Mastery
by ComedyofErrors
BSV note-warnings for torture, rape and graphic imagery
Chapter 8
"...Come inside! The shows about to start/ guaranteed to blow your head apart/ Rest assured you'll get your money's worth/ The greatest show in Heaven, Hell or Earth..."
Spike rolled carefully down the hallway. The floor was smooth in most places, but some of the seams could jar the coat across his lap, and he needed it to hide the crossbow. He paused for a moment at the entrance to the dining hall. He could sense the presences in there. Angelus and Drusilla. Minions. And Buffy.
He entered, staying to the side, out of the main floor, and hopefully beyond Angelus's notice. The minions stood about three feet in from every wall, lining the space. Angelus was in the middle. Spike could just see him through the ranks. He was standing still, trying to look impressive and casual. Dru was with him. Spike moved quietly up to the head of the room, toward the fireplace wall. He maneuvered into the dark corner it provided. He liked having his back to a wall at times like this. And there was a wide gap between the minion line and the fireplace that gave him a good view of the center square. He schooled his features to remain slack and uninterested, for that moment when he looked up and saw her.
It made sense, Buffy supposed, that because everyone else in the Mansion was here to witness Angel finally killing her, Spike would be too. His unique signature had registered with the slayer parts in her. They'd fought often enough for her to isolate it. Funny. If any vampire in this room were going to be the one to kill her, she would have bet on Spike.
Even when Angelus showed up, she didn't think it would be him. He tormented her, killed people she loved. He would break her, not kill her. Well, he'd succeeded with the first part. And she was ready for the second. It was the most calming thought she'd had this week, that knowledge that this was it. She was going to die. She didn't think she'd go to hell, but it would be worth it to get away from Angelus.
She turned her head slightly, from her position beside the mantle, still in chains. There was Spike, in the corner. His eyes flashed as he stared back at her. She watched them roam down her body taking in everything. Torn clothes. Blood. The cuts that let the blood out. His eyes worked back up to her face, and linked with hers. She could see something lingering behind them. Something powerful.
Fury. That's what it was. He must not have seen it going this way either. Maybe he could still kill her. She was all exposed. Be nice if he had a crossbow.
He wasn't wearing his coat. He looked smaller without it. They'd both fallen so far. She wondered if he'd miss her. He'd been fun to fight. Maybe she had been too.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Angelus spoke, enjoying his role as ring master. "You all know that I made a new childe, Buffy." The minions nodded. Angelus looked at the ground, apparently shocked by what he was about to relate. "She is here tonight, in chains, because she has disobeyed me." Sounds of disgust from the crowd. "I know that all of you are loyal, and that it is hard for you to believe such a thing. A childe, not yet a week old, trying to escape its Sire? Monstrous."
Buffy listened to the sounds of assent, and murmured outburst against her. It was just Angelus's big build up. It wasn't her fault that she was a bad childe. She was supposed to fight vampires. It wasn't like she'd been disobedient constantly. Well, kind of.
"Some would say that I have been benevolent in having let her live this long. But I think she could be a good vampire, if only she would submit fully, as every childe should. And so, tonight I will give her a final chance to prove her loyalty to me. Bring them in."
Something cold and heavy landed in Buffy's stomach. This wasn't part of the plan. Prove herself? No, he was going to kill her because he had finally decided she wasn't worth keeping around. This was going to end. Now. And bring who in? Oh, God...
Humans. She smelled them before she saw them. Rich and warm, the demon part said. Food.
Now she was scared. She knew. She knew the minute they entered the hall what Angelus wanted from her. A kill. Her first kill, as an offering to him.
It was a group of about twelve. A couple young families. Two mothers hugging their elementary school children, the fathers trying to be protective, but just as scared. A few teenage girls. Some younger than her. They huddled together in the middle of the open space, and the minions that had made way for them moved back to block the exit. Buffy thought about history at Hemery. She didn't remember the teacher's name. But she remembered the pictures of the Christians being thrown to the lions. That was what this was. And Buffy was supposed to be a lion.
Angelus turned toward her. He was smiling. "Now Buffy, I'm going to unchain you." He walked over, and unhooked her arms and legs. Her raw wrists ached in the cold air. She sank slightly, unused to supporting herself. And tired, and hungry. So hungry. She glanced at the people before her. They were looking back at her too. In horror. She was the kind of monster they feared. Not a victim like them. She was the one that was supposed to suck the life from them and their children.
"The task is a simple one, Childe. All I ask for is a kill. One kill, drink its blood, and prove that you are more than you have shown yourself to be. That you can think outside yourself. That you can think of your family. Of your sire. Please Buffy." He leaned toward her, and spoke a convincing plea. "I don't want to lose you. I lost you once, when you took away my soul. Don't make me lose the only opportunity I have left to be with you."
Buffy began to cry. She knew it was a lie. This wasn't the Angel she had loved. This was the monster. He was using her, trying to dominate her. Twist her beyond recognition. But it was such a nice lie. She wanted to die. She wanted to be loved. She wanted the suffering to end. He wasn't going to kill her. Not yet. He was giving her another chance.
Because her knew she couldn't take it. Yet another chance to torment her. She sank to her knees, put her face in her hands, and continued to weep.
Angelus forced his smile into a frown. It was hard, but he managed. "You're making me angry Childe. This is a pitiful display. And it's not going to get you out of doing your duty by me."
She ignored him. It was wrong to ignore her Sire, but even worse to listen to him.
Angelus marched over to the group of victims and grabbed a man. In his late twenties, slightly balding, with glasses. He through him down before Buffy. "Kill him. Drain him. Be forgiven."
Buffy looked up from her hands, straight into her enemy Sire's eyes. "No." Her lips shook, and she pressed them together to stop it. She was glad that she had sounded firm.
Angelus picked the man up, and tossed him to Drusilla. "Have fun, sweetheart." Dru giggled, and obliged. She pulled his eyes out with her long nails, one at a time, and ate them. Then she tossed the screaming future corpse to the nearest rank of vampires, who proceeded to drain him from multiple bites.
Buffy watched his family wail. His wife grabbed her children, and held them tight, shielding their eyes as best she could. She looked at the man's body as it sunk to the floor, limp and lifeless. The empty eye holes reminded her of a movie. She wondered which one. She wouldn't be seeing it again. Angelus was saying something, but she didn't listen. She heard him stride toward her, and felt him jerk her head up. The pain felt right. She'd just witnessed her first live mutilation. Nothing like pain could be out of place here. "Choose a victim."
She stared at him. Did he really think her answer had changed? It wasn't like he wasn't going to kill them all without her help, later. "No. N-O." The backhand to her face was not surprising. It hit the still healing 'A' carved there, and it broke open again. She watched him toss the other man to the crowd as well. See. Getting the job done on their own. No need to bother her. Her demon was enjoying the smell though. It smelled heavenly. Not Sire's blood, but still. Blood.
Angelus pulled a girl from the group, about twenty two. Dressed in a pretty blue skirt, that was promptly ripped from her body. Next went the thong underwear. He forced her onto the stone ground, and unfastened his pants. He raped her. Buffy looked away. More screaming. She'd been there. She sent all the sympathy she could to the girl. But it wouldn't stop the death. She sensed the moment that Angelus bit her neck. He ripped it open, barely drinking, and let her flop helplessly as the pool spread. She died. The minions laughed.
"Ready yet Childe? Ready to join the fun? Ready to let your demon out to play? You smell it. You enjoy it. The fear, the blood. It is what you are now Buffy. It is what you need. You are a demon. Do your duty." The former slayer fixed him with a glare. Pure hatred. He took that as the 'no' it was meant to be. He grabbed a younger girl, younger than Buffy herself. He cast her beside the most recent corpse, in the blood. He stripped her and surged inside, and yes, she was a virgin.
Buffy heard the girl shriek, and smelled the fresh blood that came when Angelus broke through. She had stopped crying. There were no more tears to be shed.
It continued. Each death more gruesome than the previous. The mothers were gone. Skin shredded, and their children covered in gore. The teenagers raped and sodomized. One of the children dismembered while living. The night passed, until only the youngest, and previously the most innocent remained. The air reeked of sex, blood, and fear.
Angelus, coated in blood and various other fluids, grabbed one of the remaining children. He shoved the quivering boy into Buffy's arms. She looked at him. He was dressed in blue, with little sneakers. He couldn't have been more than four. Brown haired, with deep brown eyes. He didn't fight to get away from her, thought she knew that she was in game face. He curled into a fetal position in her lap, and sucked his thumb. He must think the devil had him. Looking up at Angelus, she decided that the devil had them all.
Angelus sighed. "This can all end Childe. Right now, if you want if to. I give you that power. Fulfill your duty to me, and I will see that these others meet there end without pain. You know that they are going to die tonight. Why make it worse than it has to be? Just one life. A few pulls on the neck. That's all I want."
Buffy looked at the corpses. He was right. This needed to end. And if she could ease the deaths of those that were left, she owed it to them for letting this monster out. She looked coldly at her Sire, where he stood above her. "Them first. Kill them first, quickly, without hurting them. Then I'll do it. You know that I keep my word."
Angelus sneered and laughed. She was going to do it at last. He shot a quick look to the minion behind her, out of sight of almost everyone. The one that had the video camera. One of Spike's more intelligent decisions had been to film the Slayer. Nice of him to leave the camera lying about where someone with a similar use for it could find it. He looked back at the girl, and nodded. "Very well." He walked over, and broke the necks of the children. He looked to her.
Buffy looked at the tiny boy in her lap. She put her hands on either side of his face. He didn't seem to feel it. She twisted. She heard the sound, and saw the eyes go dark.
He was dead.
"Now drink."
"Never." She picked the body up, and laid it on the ground. She arranged the little limbs to be straight. She stood unsteadily and walked over to Angelus. She looked him straight in the eye. Then spit. It landed on his face, and he roared in anger. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her from the ground. He carried her out of the banquet room into the entry way, before the doors she had tried to escape by the other night. The minions followed.
Angelus dropped her, and she did not bother moving. "Childe, you have disappointed me for the last time. I cannot have you here to corrupt those which are loyal. I hereby renounce your creation. You are no Childe of mine."
Buffy screeched as the wound on her neck opened and bled. His bite was gone. She felt the emptiness inside her. Her Sire had abandoned her. He wasn't going to kill her. She wasn't worth that. He was just tossing her aside. He didn't even care that much.
Angelus turned to his minions. "Go all of you. Sleep. This night has seen the end of my youngest childe. Forget her, and let us be restored to hunt again tomorrow."
He walked to Dru, and they left without looking back. People wonder how artists can part with work they are so proud of. Artists only complete their task by letting their work go, to be judged. It is only failures that they hide away for themselves. Angelus felt no sense of failure here.
_______________
Spike did not follow when the crowd left the dining room. He stayed at his chosen post and waited. It was so very tempting. The smell of it had been working on him for the hours that they had been here. To get out of the chair and on to his knees. To lean over and put his face into. In that pool of human blood coating the floor and drink. Feed. Be well again.
But he couldn't. There was another, equally strong smell that made him want to heave. Whenever the bloodlust became strong he remembered the faces of the little girls. Rape was an abomination. These children hadn't deserved that. And even if the situation were different, he was not prepared to take Angelus's leavings.
He thought briefly of the little boy. He hadn't been tainted by the carnal nature of the vampires around him. He was fresh. He would make a meal...
But no. Buffy wanted it this way. He would respect her wish in this. He wasn't a fool. Life with her was going to be difficult. As a former slayer she would frown on killing. Might even stake him for it. Certainly stake the minions. Hell, he'd been drinking pig's blood for months. And only a little at a time. He'd give anything to be full, even if it was from slop. And maybe she wouldn't object to a murderer now and then. Plenty of those about. Rapists.
That just brought him back to the now. Poor Buffy.
He heard Angelus's speech outside. Drama queen. But it was what Spike had been waiting all this time for. He had freed Buffy to hurt her. So that she would have nothing to fall back on. The girl could not bring herself to go back to her family and friends. They might have been able to handle her being a vampire. But she had blood on her hands. Never mind that it was a mercy killing, and that those children would have been dead anyways. He hoped that Buffy could forgive herself. He'd work on that.
She was alone now. Completely, for the first time in her life. Being the Chosen One did not compare to being a cast off. She had had a purpose. Now she was dirt. She had betrayed the greatest trust placed in her: to protect humanity. It was no coincidence that Angelus had taken her to the front door before dropping her. He wanted her to lay there, broken, until the sun rose. She would realize how very inviting it looked. She would raise herself up, proud and determined, and walk outside. End the abomination she saw herself as.
The minions dispersed, gradually. After an hour, Spike maneuvered the wheel chair forward, avoiding the blood-slickened spots on the stone. He went cautiously up the hall. He saw up ahead the guard he had expected. Angelus wanted to make sure that his plan didn't go awry. Buffy might be made of stronger stuff than he anticipated.
Or in this case, she might have help. The guard had not heard his approach. The Powers be thanked for well-oiled wheels. Spike pulled out his crossbow, and silently loaded it. He drew a bead on the back of the sentry. And then there was no sentry; just a pile of dust at the corner.
Spike hooked the crossbow strap around one of the handles on the back of his chair. He could sense no one up ahead but Buffy. He rounded the corner, and there she was. The tableau was moving.
Buffy lay where she had been dropped. She stretched out parallel to the door, facing it. She had pulled her legs up to her, and wrapped her arms in front of her. A few tears, from who knows what reserve, had leaked out. So had some blood, from Angelus's marks. She didn't have a plan. She knew she was being watched. She just wanted to be here, on the ground. The cold stone was real, and firm, and reassuring. She felt as though she were waiting for something.
She heard the sentry dust. So Spike did have a crossbow. She had never been more grateful. He cared. He cared enough in his own misery to come and find her. He would make things better. This wasn't about her being his third slayer. This was about a decent end to a worthy enemy. He rolled right up behind her. His hands reached down and grasped her between her arms and her body.
She stiffened for an instant, then relaxed. She wanted whatever he was willing to give. Death, or taunts, it didn't matter. It meant that someone found her worthy of notice. He pulled her up, and into his lap. He draped his duster, that soft, comforting leather around her shoulders, and pulled it underneath her. In a moment it was a little cocoon. Surprising. Then he leaned down, and kissed her neck. Oh, he wanted a taste? Well, that was fine. Ah, there. Fangs through the skin. Felt so much better than when Angelus and the Master did it.
Spike was as gentle as he could be. Her other scars would fade of their own accord. He needed to place a new one on her neck. He sucked delicately for a few moments. It tasted more wonderful than he'd imagined. Then he tilted her head toward him, so that she could see his eyes. "Orphan. I hereby claim thee to be my Childe, to protect, to cherish, to teach, as though first remade by me."
Buffy stared in shock at the face of her savior. He wanted her. Not just to rule over her. No, she could see it in his face. So open, so loving. He wanted her for his family. Maybe for himself. He wanted her to be strong. He would protect her. His eyes promised it. She smiled as he caressed her face with one fine, white hand. He brought her face up to his neck. "Drink Buffy. It makes this final."
She wavered. "I don't know how. Angelus just opened his wrist."
"Feel with your lips along the neck. Find the artery between the muscle and the throat. Then let your teeth down into it."
She obeyed. Spike tried not to worry about just how wonderful her lips felt. That wasn't what either of them needed now. Her fangs entered on target, and she took a couple shallow sips. She licked instinctively at the drops that welled up as she removed her mouth. Spike shivered. Buffy noticed, but was too tired to consider it. She was falling asleep, and gave in. She snuggled nest to her Sire. He arranged her against his chest, and began to move again.
He approached the door cautiously, so as not to disturb his drowsy cargo. He pushed it open, and was greeted by Alexa. She smiled at him, and he smiled in return. The van he had ordered was there, backed up to the entrance. He wheeled over. Chris and Alexa together lifted him, Buffy, and the wheelchair into the back. They jumped aboard and pulled the doors shut. Spike watched out the back window as the Mansion receded.
After a while the van slowed, and entered a driveway. His driveway, his garage. Once the garage door closed, he and his charge were lifted down. Morrie presented himself immediately, and Spike thanked him for his services. Spike handed Buffy over to Jacob. She protested sleepily at being removed from her Sire's grasp, but Spike couldn't carry her up the stairs to the loft. He'd have enough trouble getting there himself.
He managed the stairs, slowly, methodically. Alexa had taken charge of Buffy, placing her in the bathroom. With Spike's help, she stripped the tattered clothes from the girl's body, and put her in the tub. Spike washed her hair, while Alexa tended to the rest. Soon his childe was rinsed and dried, and wrapped in a soft white robe. Alexa carried her to the bed, which Morrie had turned down.
Jacob brought blood for Spike, and he drank greedily, until he was sated. The minions bid goodnight, and shut the door when they left. Spike was exhausted by this time. He looked at his bed. Buffy was fidgeting slightly. He kicked off his boots, then lay down beside her. She immediately rolled toward him, and cuddled close. Spike put an arm over her, and tucked her head beneath his chin.
They slept peacefully.
*****
Thanks to my reviewers and readers!
Thanks ever so to Oracleholly for the AWESOME banner. Lyrics at the end are from Emerson, Lake and Palmer
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