The Demon Detective

The Last Day of Peace

On the 29th day of the truce, the rain came. A heavy, cold rain that washed the streets clean.

Angel was in the office, cleaning weapons. Cordelia was balancing the books. Wesley was reading. Gunn was napping on the couch. It was quiet. Normal.

Then the visions hit Cordelia.

She gasped, grabbing her head. “Oh, wow. Big one. Green. So much green.”

“The heart?” Angel was on his feet.

“No… different. Like… plants. But wrong. Growing fast. In the old zoo.” She winced. “There’s a man. He’s… planting something. He’s crying. And the plants… they’re eating him.”

She opened her eyes. “We have to go. Now.”

The old zoo. Where Angel had killed Penn. It felt like a bad sign.

They drove through the rain. The zoo gates were broken open. Inside, the overgrown paths were even more wild. And something new was growing. Thick, rubbery vines with sharp thorns. They were a glowing, sick green. They pulsed faintly, like they had a heartbeat.

In the center of the old lion enclosure, where Penn had died, a man knelt. He was thin, dressed in dirty clothes. He was sobbing. He had a bag of seeds. He was planting them in the mud with his bare hands.

As they watched, a vine grew from a seed right before their eyes. It wrapped around the man’s wrist. He didn’t pull away. He cried harder.

“Sir!” Wesley called. “Step away from the plants!”

The man looked up. His eyes were empty. “I have to plant them. The pretty lady said so. She said they would take the pain away.”

“What pretty lady?” Gunn asked.

“The lawyer lady. She gave me the seeds. She said if I planted them all, I wouldn’t feel sad about my daughter anymore.” A thorn cut his hand. Black blood, not red, dripped into the soil. Where it hit, a new vine burst forth.

“Lilah,” Angel growled. He moved toward the man.

The vines moved faster. They weren’t just plants. They were guardians. They lashed out like whips. One wrapped around Angel’s ankle, thorns digging in. A cold numbness shot up his leg. Not soul-chill. A poison.

He sliced the vine with a knife. It screamed, a high, thin sound.

“It’s a bio-weapon!” Wesley yelled, dodging a vine. “Demon-plant hybrid! It feeds on sadness!”

Gunn swung his ax, cutting through thick stems. Black sap sprayed, burning where it touched.

Angel fought his way to the sobbing man. The vines were thickest around him, protecting their gardener. Angel cut and slashed. The numbness was spreading up his leg. He ignored it.

He reached the man. “The seeds. Give them to me.”

“I have to plant them!” the man cried. “The pain…”

“The pain is yours!” Angel said, grabbing his shoulders. “It’s part of you! Letting a demon plant eat it won’t help! You have to feel it!”

He shook the man gently. “Your daughter. You loved her. The pain is the love that’s left. Don’t let them steal it.”

The man’s eyes focused. He looked at his bloody hands, at the crawling vines. He looked terrified. He shoved the bag of seeds at Angel.

Angel took it. “Wesley! How do we kill these things?”

“Fire!” Wesley shouted, lighting a molotov cocktail from his bag. “They’re wet, but the demon sap should burn!”

He threw it. The bottle broke on a thick vine. The black sap ignited with a *whoosh* of green flame. The fire spread fast, racing along the vines. They thrashed and screamed.

Angel grabbed the crying man and hauled him out of the enclosure. Gunn and Cordelia helped. They ran back through the zoo as the green fire burned behind them, consuming the demon plants.

They got to the car, soaked and breathing hard. The man, whose name was Henry, cried quietly. Not the empty crying from before. Real, sad, human tears.

“They used him,” Cordelia said, furious. “They used a sad person to grow their monster plants. That’s low. Even for them.”

“The truce isn’t over,” Wesley checked his watch. “It ends at midnight. It’s only 10 PM. They broke the deal.”

Angel looked at the burning zoo. “No. They didn’t. They didn’t attack us. They didn’t send anything after us. They gave seeds to a sad man and let nature take its course. Technically, they kept their word. They just… started a problem that would blow up right after the truce ended.”

It was smart. It was cruel. It was Wolfram & Hart.

They took Henry to a hospital. Then they went back to the office. The clock ticked toward midnight.

11:59 PM.

The team sat in silence, waiting.

Midnight.

The phone rang. Loud in the quiet room.

Angel picked it up. “Yeah.”

Lilah Morgan’s voice was bright and cheerful. “Hi, Angel. Hope you enjoyed your month off. The game is back on. And we brought a new player. He’s very excited to meet you. He’s a fan of your work.”

“Who?” Angel asked, his voice flat.

“You’ll find out. Welcome back.”

She hung up.

Angel put the phone down. The truce was over. The war was back.

And Wolfram & Hart had a new “player.” Angel had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

The quiet month was over. The storm was here.