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Hope this next chapter isn't too disappointing, I tried my hardest to write some 'good' torture but it didn't quite come out the way I wanted so I deleted most of it. I will work on the parts I edited out, and maybe bring them in later as a flashback. But for now, here's chapter two =)
Quotes taken from Innocence
All italics surrounded by *stars* are thoughts
Italics surrounded by 'single quotation marks' are flashbacks.
Big thanks goes to shadowsbabe for correcting the many mistakes in this chapter after its first posting on EF. =)
He had considered just killing her.
It would have been easy as she lay struggling beneath him with his cock still imbedded in her tight, virginal pussy.
But where was the fun in that? No, he was going to have his fun with the little Slayer that was now chained to his bed. He was going to punish her for ever making his soulful counterpart feel like he belonged; like he was human.
She had made him weak. Angelus chuckled; now he was going to return the favour.
He sat a few feet from the bed in one of Angel's more comfortable armchairs, watching the Slayer who was now staring into space. He hated when his victims did this, went off to their ‘happy place' where he couldn't touch them.
But she would be back, if he left her alone for long enough she would come back down and he could resume their play-time. Until then he had time to look around ‘Angel's' apartment, he snarled angrily at his refrigerator filled with pigs blood, which again he blamed on the tiny Slayer and of course, the soul.
He also found more interesting things hidden away, such as cigarettes and expensive bottles of his favourite alcohol. Which had surprised him immensely, while trapped inside Angel he had not been privy to everything Angel did, sometimes he would find himself completely blocked out. Seems like Angel had not been able to kill off all the bad habits he had picked up as human and his time as Angelus.
Not that it mattered now. Angel was gone, and if the souless vampire had anything to say about it, the soul would never be restored. With a satisfied smirk at the thought, Angelus grew tired of waiting.
Standing abruptly he made his way over to where the Slayer lay. Leaning over her, he brought a hand up to caress the side of her face in a gentle manner.
As though sensing the violence had stopped, Buffy's eyes flickered towards his face. Her eyes held so much hope, Angelus felt like weeping...with mirth. After swallowing a few times she attempted to speak.
"A-" Buffy's throat was so dry from her screams before she couldn't finish. She was in a haze so deep she had trouble not falling back into a comatose state. Everything was so confusing.
Tonight was supposed to be a night she would always remember, and she knew she would but for all the wrong reasons. After Angel's pained screaming he had changed, he had become the monster she had always worried he could be.
She had pleaded with him to stop. Begged him to listen. Screamed until her voice was hoarse.
Yet he had carried on abusing her, uncaring of her blood, that now coated the sheets around her, of the fear that rolled from her body. Well actually that he seemed to enjoy, which only made her cry harder.
She had been dreaming of this night for months, she had day-dreamed about it even longer. In her dreams they had always made love gently, professing their love for one another, and then as she fell asleep he would hold her close telling her how much she meant to him.
If she wasn't so dazed and confused she may have laughed at that thought now. Tonight had played so differently to what she had expected that she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up to find it had all been a horrible nightmare, but the pain that seared through her young body told a different story.
Sometime during his continuous raping, she had drifted off. She went to a place where she could imagine none of tonight existed and she was safe.
But now she was staring back into the souless vampire's vicious eyes, and she was terrified. More terrified than she had ever been before, even on her first patrol she had not felt the coil of fear now spiralling outwards through her body, starting from the pit of her stomach.
"Ah ah ah" Angelus chastised lightly, he was really getting a kick out of playing with this girl. "I told you to be quiet...unless you feel the need to scream of course. That I don't mind at all." His face twisted into an ugly smirk that chilled her.
"Now what should we do, hmm? We've got...well I've got forever, you've got until I get bored." Chuckling darkly at the fear in her eyes, he just loved that look in a girl: terrified.
"Y'know, I might not kill you... I could turn you, how would you like that Buff? I could make you insane first like I did with Drusilla. Did Angel ever tell how I made that sweet, young girl suffer before I sired her? I could do the same to you..."
Angelus laughed harshly when the fear he felt coming from the girl before him increased ten-fold. So Angel had told her, another thing Angelus hadn't been privy too. He decided not to dwell on it at the moment; he had much more...interesting pursuits to follow.
He pulled a wicked looking dagger from the bedside table, Buffy saw it was the same one he used on her earlier, only now it was encrusted with her blood.
Slowly Angelus dragged the blade across her stomach, watching her precious blood weep from the deep cuts he made. Mesmerized by the sight, he was oblivious to her whimpers of pain. After finishing the three long cuts that travelled diagonally across the plane of her flat stomach, he bent down to lick up the blood he had released from her body.
All Buffy could do was lie there and weep softy and wonder: why?
Wheeling round the table to where Drusilla was lying, while she stared interestedly up at the ceiling, he leant forward, placing his forearms on the table, watching his Sire with an indulgent smile. "Are we feeling better, then?"
"I'm naming all the stars" She spoke softly; Spike felt a stab of guilt when he wished fleetingly that she would act normal every now and again. It wasn't her fault she was like this, that blame lay directly at his grandsire's door.
"You can't see the stars, luv. That's the ceiling. Also, its day" He didn't know why he felt the urge to point this out, it wouldn't make any difference. He sometimes thought that maybe if he tried to carry on a normal conversation it would make up for her lack of sanity; it never did. His Sire would always bring the talk back round to pixies, dollies or more recently she had been speaking of a sunlight that would burn him if he wasn't careful. Which to him made no sense, why would he go off and 'play in sunlight' as she had put it? He knew he liked to live dangerously, but that was taking it a step too far.
Returning his attention back to the vampire that had held his heart for over a century, he realised she had indeed returned to talking about the stars that only she could see.
"I can see them. But I've named them all the same name." The female vampire tilted her head towards her attentive Childe. "And there's terrible confusion."
Suddenly Drusilla's earlier episode came back to him, she'd had a vision pertaining to Angel. Or as Spike preferred to think of him: The Great Poofter.
"Did you see any further? Do you know what happens to Angel?" He pressed gently; he had a feeling whatever happened would not please him, considering the evil smile that Dru had painted on her lips after the vision had passed.
"Well..." Clearing his throat, Angelus began walking into the room. "He moves to New York and tries to fulfil that Broadway dream. It's tough sledding, but one day he's working in the chorus when the big star twists her ankle."
"You don't give up, do you?" Spike spoke exasperatedly; he just couldn't believe the ponce was simple enough to come back here when he knew about the Judge. He almost laughed at his stupidity; almost. But as he still wasn't sure what Dru's vision had shown her, so he cautiously kept a lid on his mirth.
Angelus approached the vampire duo slowly. "As long as there's injustice in the world, as long as scum like you is walking..." He cast his gaze down to the wheelchair that Spike occupied, sniggering lightly. "Well, rolling the streets... I'll be around. Look over your shoulder. I'll be there."
He stood looming over the blonde vampire, until Spike smirked."Uh yeh... Angel, look over your shoulder."
As Angelus turned around the Judge reached out to place a hand on the newly-soulless vampire's chest. With a look of concentration the Judge began trying to burn away the humanity in Angelus, and the vampire with it.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Spike's sat back with a satisfied smirk, ready to enjoy the show.
Looking back over his shoulder, the brunette vampire replied in a strained voice, "Well, y'know, it kinda itches a little."
Spike's gaze flew to the Judge. "Don't just stand there. Burn him."
"Gee, maybe he's broken." Angelus joked.
Spike growled, "What the hell is goin' on?"
Behind him Drusilla's eyes widen in realisation, her mouth twisting into a wicked grin.
"This one cannot be burnt." The Judge released the vampire he had intended to burn. "He is clean"
Looking confused Spike continued, "Clean? You mean he's..."
"There's no humanity in him." With that the Judge walked away, leaving two soulless vampires staring in awe, and the other smirking at their stunned expressions.
"I couldn't have said it better myself" Shrugging nonchalantly, while trying to suppress his mirth.
"Angel." She whispered his name like a reverent prayer, which riled Spike.
And Angelus' reply just about made his blood boil."Yeah, baby. I'm back."
After making friendly with the newly returned vampire, Spike had wheeled his way through the factory to his room, playing what Angelus had said and the conversation that followed over and over in his mind.
‘Ahh sweet Buffy, not much for the torture but she is one hell of a screamer.'
‘Come again, mate?'
‘Well, she was before I gagged her, there's only so many ‘please', ‘stop's and ‘no's a vampire can take after all.'
Spike could still hear the older vampire's dark chuckle.
‘So, let me get this straight, you had the chance to off the annoying chit and you didn't?'
‘Nah, I let the little whore live. Where's the fun in killing her, when I could torment her for everything she made m- Angel feel?'
Spike had heard the slip, but he had decided to ignore it for now, it would do him no good to rile the wanker up when he was confined to a wheelchair, whereas Angelus was at full strength.
‘You left her alive? Where?'
He had hoped the curiosity that coloured his voice didn't raise Angelus' suspicion. But at the time he wasn't even sure why he wanted to know so badly, it had just seemed important.
He needn't have worried; Angelus was too far gone in his boasting to even notice Spike's curiosity.
‘Where else? His apartment, I wonder if she'll wake up calling for her soulful lover boy. That happened the first few times, and each time I got to personally crush the hope in her eyes.'
And the ugly smirk was once again planted on his face.
Spike had forced a chuckle, but the information made him feel sick to his stomach, which surprised him. Since when did he give a damn about the Slayer?
He had taken to his room shortly after that, as the sight of Angelus and Dru fawning over each other was another thing that made him want to heave.
Reaching for his cigarettes, Spike lit one up, inhaling slowly and savouring the effect the nicotine had on his frazzled nerves. Once he felt calm enough, he thought back to Angelus' prattle about torturing the young Slayer. And although he felt angry as hell at her for his current predicament, he could not help the swell of empathy he felt for her. He too had suffered at Angelus' hands, back in his fledgling days.
And now because of her he might have to again.
*If the silly bint had just kept her legs shut, he w-*
For some unknown reason he felt guilt stab at him. He blamed the Victorian gentleman buried deep inside for the guilty feeling he now had. He had every right to blame her.
As he thought about the Slayer, he wondered if she was still at the Poof's apartment. From how Angelus had described her condition when he had left her and from his own experiences, Spike guessed she would be.
Promptly crushing his cigarette into the wall, he spun his chair around to face the door. What could he do? How would he be any help at all, in the state he was in? He growled low in his throat, a state caused by the Slayer who he was willing to go to, to what...? Help her? Kill her in her moment of weakness? He didn't know. All he knew was that he had to find her.
*Preferably before Captain Forehead decides to have another go.*
Cursing not only the tiny blonde but also himself, he wheeled to the door.
As he rolled his chair through the main part of the factory he saw Angelus and Dru, to be exact he saw them screwing each other silly on the table. That was quick, he thought to himself, not allowing his hurt to show. He ignored them and carried on towards the door.
Suddenly Angelus' head popped up from where he had been biting into Dru's neck.
"Spike, my boy." His voice full of glee, clearly relishing in the fact that Spike had caught the show he had orchestrated especially for the blonde vampire. He carried on fucking Spike's Sire into the table as though it were nothing, which was probably true for the elder. "So responsive, isn't she?" Drusilla chose that moment to let out a long moan, clawing her nails down Angelus' back, leaving deep, red scratches that would last for days.
Chuckling in delight, both at Drusilla's increasingly loud moans and Spike's obvious hurt, he returned to suckling hungrily her neck, yet keeping his cold, yellow eyes locked with Spike's.
Feeling his own eyes mist up, he angrily shook himself tearing his gaze away from Angelus who was now pounding fiercely into his Childe.
Spike violently wheeled his chair to the exit; he heard the older vampire's infuriating laughter follow him out into the night. He knew his Sire had always loved her ‘Daddy' but to see it again after so many years broke his unbeating heart.
Finally outside, away from the sounds of Drusilla's throaty moans and Angelus' maddening laughter, he allowed his bitter tears to fall. How? After more than 100 years of giving her everything she ever wanted, how had she just laid down and opened her legs for another vamp. Not just any vamp either, no she did it for the one Spike despised most in this world.
Yelling out his frustration, he threw his fist at the nearest thing he could find. Which happened to be a wall. As he stared at the blood seeping from the messy wound that now adorned his left knuckles, he started chuckling hysterically.
Suddenly he remembered why he had left the factory.
It was all her fault. She had released Angelus from his soulful prison, therefore she was the one who would pay for his misery over seeing his Sire willing throw herself at the overgrown buffoon. Nodding his head sharply as though coming to a silent decision, he knew what he had to do.
*Bitch is gunna pay.*
Angrily he wheeled himself as fast as he could to Angel's apartment, it took him a while, and many colourful curses were directed at his current handicap and the girl whose fault it was.
But finally he was there, panting unneeded breaths at the exertion of wheeling his chair as fast as he had.
Carefully manoeuvring himself down the dark corridor of apartments, he caught the heavy scent of blood. And not just any blood, it was the Slayer's blood. A sharp tingling spread through his upper body like wildfire, his demon fighting to get to the surface in the excitement of smelling Slayer blood for the first time in years.
Growling softly, the vampire continued down the narrow passage until he came to the door he was certain the Slayer lay behind. Reaching out for the handle, he gave it a sharp twist and let the door swing open.
His eyes rolled back in his head as soon as the full intoxicating scent of Slayer blood hit him like a freight train; he felt the bones in his face start to shift but pushed the urge to vamp out down swiftly.
*Concentrate, you pillock*
Opening his eyes again, he rolled carefully into the room, reaching out to slam the door shut behind him. He wasn't sure exactly how injured she was, and if she was expecting Angelus' back she could possibly have a stake at the ready, depending on how fast she healed.
He needn't have worried.
He found her stretched out on the bed, chained by her wrists and ankles and left completely spread-eagled and vulnerable. The sheets beneath her almost black from the blood that was still weeping slightly from her barely healed cuts. Her mouth was covered by a thin piece of black fabric that acted as a gag.
Before going any nearer, firstly he checked for any possibly weapons, which he realised a moment later was pointless; she was barely in any position to attack when she was so securely bound. He made sure he had a tight rein on his demon, the smell of her blood was heavenly to him, and the scent would only increase in potency the closer he moved.
When he was certain his demon was under control, he began to move closer to the bed on which she lay. The wheels of his chair squeaked slightly as he approached, causing Buffy to gasp sharply and start murmuring through the gag. He hadn't even known she was awake.
"Plea', plea', plea', no, no, no, no, nononono." Her whisper became more distressed and urgent the nearer he came to the bed, her words were muffled by the gag but he knew exactly what she was saying. "Plea', not again, no, no, no..."
Before he had the chance to rein in his sympathy, he felt his unbeating, long-dead heart go out to her. Angelus had really done a number on her. Without realising it, he must have spoken out loud.
All her murmured pleas stopped abruptly. Before her almost child-like voice spoke again, whispering hoarsely through the black fabric.
Then the next thing he knew she was sobbing her broken teenage heart out into pillows as she turned her head away from him to face the wall.
He would not comfort her. He wouldn't.
Instead he reached for the keys he saw lying on the bedside table.
When Buffy heard the soft clinking of keys, her sobs ceased and she turned to look at the wheelchair bound vampire before her.
Leaning over, mindful to not fall from his wheelchair, he unlocked the chain from her left wrist, then from her left ankle. Whenever his cool skin came into contact with her warm flesh she would flinch, which didn't surprise him in the least; after all the girl had spent most of her night being sadistically raped and tortured by a vampire.
With that thought he suddenly realised something; the Slayer before him was completely naked.
For some unknown reason he reached down to pull the thin blanket up over her, it wasn't that he wanted to save what was left of her tattered dignity. Or so he told himself, he just didn't want to have to look at all the wickedly tempting blood that painted her body the most delicious shade of red.
*Yeh, that's it. I don't give a rat's arse about the Slayer's dignity.*
He snorted softly, knowing he did care, but what he couldn't figure out was why.
Shaking his head as if trying to disperse his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the Slayer. Reaching out again, he loosened the material covering her mouth, mindful that his cool skin never made contact with hers. When the gag came loose enough he pulled it gently over her head and threw the fabric as far away from them as he could.
Clearing his throat, caused her to flinch violently. So he forced himself to speak softly; wouldn't do to frighten her. He thought back a few weeks to when all he wanted was to have that sort of reaction from her. "Pet, you're gunna have to unlock the rest of the chains yourself..." He spoke slowly and clearly.
Slowly she reached out with a shaky hand, passing the keys to her gently, Spike watched as she fumbled with the lock on her left wrist, hissing in pain whenever her body stretched too far, or moved suddenly.
Finally she released her wrist from its tight shackle, grunting softly in exertion from the small action, weakened by blood loss and the emotional upheaval of the night. Her left arm, numb from being chained in the same position for god knows how long, flopped down with a soft *thump*. She didn't move immediately, just breathed slowly in and out through her nose, trying to push the bile down that had risen in her throat.
Now after everything she had been through, she was going to die.
Now after believing that maybe she would survive this awful night, she realised she wouldn't.
Not only in physical agony but emotional too, she channelled all her love to the people she would be leaving behind. Her Mom, Giles, Willow and Xander all at the forefront of her mind, she accepted what she knew was coming, only praying that it would be quick.
Steeling herself against the tears that flooded her eyes, ignoring the burning and constricting of her throat, she spoke in a cold, firm voice.
"Just do it, Spike."
For a moment he looked perplexed, and then it hit him. The Slayer thought he was here to kill her, and she had decided to give up the fight. For some reason he felt a white hot rage build within him.
The tiny, thoroughly abused girl lying on the bed in front of him had given up, she was by far the best Slayer he had ever had the pleasure of fighting, and yet she had easily accepted what she assumed was to be her fate.
He growled low in his throat, "M'not here to kill you, Slayer." He tried to keep the anger he was feeling from smothering his voice, reminding himself of the helplessness and vulnerability he had felt after one of Angelus' many torture sessions.
Surprise and hope blossomed on her bruised, beaten face. Before the steel mask swiftly slammed back down, hiding her emotions from the blonde vampire. "You're lying." She glared at him as much as she could from beneath her black, blue and swollen eyelids.
"Listen, pet. If I'd have come here to kill you, you'd already be dead. An' I certainly wouldn't have bloody unchained you." He let out a shuddering breath, before forcing the words from his mouth. "I'm...I'm here to help you."
Finally she turned her face fully towards him, emotionless mask gone. "Why?" Again her voice sounded so child-like Spike felt the need to hold her close and-
*Whoa, where the bloody hell did that come from?*
Looking away from her questioning gaze, he wondered silently why he was doing this too. It made no sense, he hated her, hated everything she stood for. She was the gnat in his ear. The gristle in his teeth. The thorn in his side, for fuck's sake! So why did he feel the strong urge to protect her? Suddenly he had an idea; while it was perfectly truthful he knew the Slayer would probably accept it and stop asking questions he didn't know the answers to yet.
"Because I can't take Angelus' down by lonesome, can I? I figure, the enemy of my enemy is my friend," He paused, a ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Well ‘friend' might be pushing it, but you see where I'm goin' with this...right?"
Nodding hesitantly, Buffy knew that he wasn't telling her the full truth, but as she relaxed back into the pillows of the bed where her whole world had turned upside down she could feel sleep calling her, dragging her under slowly.
"Does that mean if I fell asleep right now...you won't try and kill me?" Her tired voice murmured, clearly already on her way to dreamland.
"No, Slayer." He chuckled softly, and when she finally slipped into a welcome unconsciousness he spoke quietly again. "You're safe with me."
Mouth agape with horror at the truth with which he had whispered his admission, he wheeled backwards, faster than he had thought physically possible, across the room.
The back of his wheelchair hit the wall with enough force to almost dislodge him from where he sat. Yet his eyes remained on the small figure lying on the bed.
He stared at the sleeping girl intently. She had one dainty hand wrapped around the thin sheet covering her broken, battered body; she pulled it tighter to her, snuggling her head deeper into the pillows. Her nose scrunching up momentarily before her entire face relaxed as she fell deeper into her seemingly dreamless slumber. Spike thought he had never witnessed anything quite as adorable in his life.
Shaking his head at the thought, he muttered almost silently:"What the hell is happening to me?"
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