Pairings: *takes a deep breath* S/Ceily S/D S/Aus S/Aus/D Aus/W S/B S/W and finally A/S/W. Whew. Damn Spike gets around.
Disclaimer: I don't own these people. I just want them to have sex. That's all this amounts to. Don't sue me, I'm broke.
Summary: The story of Spike's life from his mortal years, until after Season 7 of Buffy. Yeah AFTER. We all know by now he's coming back. Oh yeah, this is all in his point of view. First person sex, here we come.
Spoilers: Anything and everything pertaining to Buffy. That also includes the book "These Our Actors" (which is if you didn't know a sanctioned Buffy novel centering on Spike and Willow).
Authors Notes: I have no life. I have no beta reader. Much thought and research has sadly enough gone into this. The book mentioned above, isn't the greatest book in the world, but it is highly enjoyable and offers a written version of Spike's making and the early time following it. Anything mentioning his making is taken from here. Uhm yeah. This one's for Taku and Usi who got wide eyed at the pairings list.
Feedback- PLEASE!!
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~Part: 1~ An Introduction
December 7, 1879-
Hey Red,
Spike here.As if you couldn’t bloody well tell.Who else calls you Red?I’m writing from London, and am planning on stayin here for a few months.You can write back to this return address, and you know you will be writing me back, right luv?I’ll tell you more about my new flat in another note.
Now, on to the purpose of this package.Don’t worry, it’s not a shrunken head this time.I found these the other day while cleanin’ out one of my old storage holes, and thought of you.We’ve been talkin’ about my past quite a bit lately and these, well luv, these are my past or accounts of them.Yeah, I kept journals all these years, and if you tell anybody about it, I’ll…torture you for a few hours if you catch my drift, pet.
Anyhow.I hope these bloody books quench your thirst for this crap so that the next time we’re together we can put that mouth of yours to better uses than talking.
Until then,
William Hart III (aka: Spike, the Big Bad)
~x~
Willow put the letter down and looked at the box that sat before her.When she had first received the package, she had been wary.Spike had sent her several… amusing things in the past.Little trinkets from his recent travels that he thought she would like, or scare her shitless.But the letter that had been attached to the top of the plain cardboard box had ailed her fears of what lay within the box.Of course there could be something else in there….
He had first written a year ago, apparently getting her address from Angel.No one knew how he came back, and apparently only she and the Los Angeles crew knew that he did.Hearing from him had made her so happy, and when he showed up on her doorstep a week later, she was happy enough to sleep with him.
Willow still blushed at the memory of their night together.Before The First, she would have never dreamed with sleeping with Spike.Well, okay, to be completely honest she did dream about sleeping with Spike.She dreamed about it quite often in fact.But, once again he had been in love with Buffy and she had been gay.Apparently him being really dead changed something in him, and when he had shown interest in her she had shown interest right back and they had ended up doing the nasty right there on her sofa.Then the floor.And then her bed…and in the kitchen…
Anyway, he had left a week later, but not after assuring her that he would be back.His last night with her, she had pumped (Did I just say that?)him for information about his past (before they moved on to the more literal pumping of course).Sure, she had read the Watcher’s Journals back in high school, but she had always wanted more information on the past of the peroxide blonde’s past.Especially after the whole thing with the theatre.
She was happy that he had remembered their conversation and sent the journals.No matter how old she got, she always tended to doubt her self worth, and this proved he cared just a bit.
Willow opened the box and began removing the numerous books that lay within.Some of the books were old but in good condition.At least it seemed he had taken good care of his memoirs.The type of books varied as well.Some were leather bound, and others were your regular old 69cent spiral notebooks.Willow carefully opened the front covers of each and arranged them on the floor in front of her.They dated from 1879 to 2003.That surprised her.How had he gotten the last one out of Sunnydale?
It was of no matter.Willow made herself a hot cup of tea and turned on her reading lamp taking the first of the books into her lap, deciding she had might as well get started.By the amount of books before her, it looked like she had a long road to travel before she would finish.
~Part: 2~ The Beginning; A Glimpse At the Mortal
December 7, 1879-
I have read in one of the new journals from the post that writing one’s thoughts helps the creative process.So I, William Hart III have taken it upon myself to write the world around me as I see it, in hopes that I will be able to gather my thoughts and be able to more eloquently describe what it is I feel in verse.This form of writing is very new to me, for outside of poetry I have never written a thing aside from the occasional letter, and my schoolwork of course.
Now to gather my thoughts, which is the point of this whole exercise.Thoughts.Whenever I close my eyes to think, her face haunts me.I can’t seem to get her out of my mind, be it day or night.I write, of course, about my dearest Cecily.Whom else would I think of with my entire being?She is my sun, my moon, and all of the stars in my heaven.She is my heaven, I love her with the cockles of my heart.
Not that she returns the gesture.I have no delusions that she does.I doubt she even realises that my poetry is meant for her.I love her for her beauty and her personality, not her intelligence after all. Oh bad me, I shall not speak ill of my love.She is quite intelligent.It is only that her friends think me an anorak*.With all of that against me, I am still assured that all of my pining will pay off and Cecily will fall to my charms.I am a patient man.I can wait.Though I hope that it won’t be long, I will be turning twenty-two this coming year, as she will be eighteen. Marrying age.
Yes, well.I hear mother calling me for dinner now.I suppose this has been enough introduction into my life, my love.I shall continue my thoughts at a later time.I can see that this will be very beneficial. Until then.~William
December 31, 1879-
It has been quite a while since I have sat to write.We are dawning on a new decade tonight, and instead of being with my love at a party, I am here, alone.Well mother is in the house but she offers no comfort to my young heart.I was not invited to the gathering tonight.Overlooked, once again.It anguishes me more, that the aforementioned party is being held at the home of my beloved. My own heart has betrayed me to the boredom that sets in at this very hour.
I would have liked to kiss her.Brazen, I know, but still the same.They say if you kiss your love on the stroke of midnight on New Years that you will be together forever.Alas, she had denied me that chance yet again. She still denies me at every turn.I wonder how much longer will I be able to contain myself?
Perhaps thinking of something other than my love will make me feel better?But as I have said before, she is all I can think about.Some ale then, to soothe the dark thoughts that ail me.I normally do not allow myself to turn to drink for comfort, but for some reason, on this night, I cannot help but do so.
Here’s to the New Year.That is what the lower class says to welcome the new year as they lift their glasses and make a toast.Though I will not admit this to anyone, the lower class intrigues me.They have a way of speaking and acting, so unlike the way I have been taught.I suppose their behavior is supposed to disgust me.With their drinking and dirty habits, gambling, lack of educations, and vernaculars, it seems to disgust everyone else.Yet it only seems to fascinate me.I find it amazing that two completely different cultures can exist in the same city as they do here in London.I’d like to make a study of it some day.Perhaps learn their slang and live like they do for a while, free of the social restraints wealth has placed upon me.
I doubt I will ever have the chance to do so.It would cost me any standing I have with my dearest Cecily, and I dare not do anything to upset that.Being free is only a dream.One that I fear I will never realise, and it’s just as well that I don’t.I am enough of an outcast as it is.
Now enough of this brooding and on to something more productive.I believe that I shall write down a verse or two in dedication to this new year.May it be better than the last, filled with love and luck for all.~William
January 10, 1880
The winds of change are blowing, I can feel it in my bones.London seems to be in a bustle, there is movement everywhere you turn.I have never seen the frozen winter streets this busy before in all of my years.I believe more has turned with this new year than just the century.Something in the minds of every mortal has changed.There is a type of revolution upon us.It is quite exciting.
I have gotten no further in my quest to win Cecily’s heart.It seems to be a never ending battle.I went to the theatre today to see her.Yes, it seems foolish to waste money to attend a play only to watch a girl that isn’t even a part of the cast, but I assure, that I did end up watching a bit of the play as well.It was a very well done production of Shakespeare’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”I was quite enthralled with the lead actor, he played Oberon very well.
Of course I quite literally ran into Cecily and the intrusive Lasher after the play.He seems to live to embarrass me in front of the love of my life.At once I thought I could be friends with the buffoon, but now I find that it is an impossibility for he seems as take with the innocent Cecily as I am.
My poetry has gotten better.I know I do not gather my thoughts here often, but it is enough to keep me straight.I believe the latest of my works will do me great justice in my quest for love.Well it will if I manage to finish it.I need a word that begins with the letter e…
Enough!I am getting nowhere.I will spend tonight out I do believe.The white lined streets of London are quite a site.It is almost poetic looking at the skyline at night.The dark sky twinkling with the stars framed by the smoking flatblocks* of London and illuminated by the light from taverns and inns.Yes, I will walk through the park and treat myself to this sight and hopefully be inspired.Perhaps I will once again run into the object of my obsessions… She enjoys the view as much as I.We are very alike, my love and I.Now if she would only see that.I bid thee goodnight. ~William
~Part: 3~ Beginning of the End
January 11, 1880
My thoughts are running rampant this morning.Despite my foolish behaviour at the theatre last night, I have received a post inviting me to a musicale at my dearest Cecily’s home.My heart is overjoyed at the prospect of such an invitation.I shall have to compose a verse just to honor my love and this occasion.Not that I do not compose such verses or my love at all times, but today my joy engulfs me.
I shall win her tonight.I will swoop in with my lyrical grace and my words shall astound her so that she is weak in the knees and she shall fall into my arms faint, but I shall revive her with the gentlest and most tender of kisses.Yes, I suppose it will go something like that.
There is a shortness to this note but I must prepare myself.I must be the perfectly trimmed knight for my ethereal princess this evening.~William
~Of the Beginning~
~Interlude~
Willow closed the almost completely empty notebook.Why had William moved on to another one after filling only a few pages of the first?That didn’t really make all that much sense.Willow’s heart went out to the mortal Spike had once been.Unrequited love just plain stank like big smelly socks.And no matter what he was still so optimistic that he would win her affections.
She could see bits of William and Spike.Every so often some of the most beautiful words would flow from the normally brash blonde’s mouth and make Willow melt.He certainly had a way with words, no matter what version of himself he was being.
Eager to figure out the mystery of why the first journal stopped so abruptly, Willow picked up the next book.She immediately figured it out.Young William had died.
~End Interlude~
January 26, 1880
Forgive me for not writing later that night as promised.Might we just say that my plan didn’t go exactly the way I had thought it would.Well, I must be completely honest and say my plan was a complete failure, but I gained from the outcome just the same.Made out like a bandit, I did.
Fifteen nights ago my life completely changed.I see now how much of a blind fool I was.It’s no wonder I was the laughing stock of society.I look upon my actions now and completely agree with the people I hate.A right pounce I was.I am bound and determined to turn myself around, now that I have this second chance at life.
And those that mocked me will never know what hit them.I’ve got good plans for the lot of them.If Angelus will let me out of his sight long enough to take care of them.
I suppose I should say exactly how my life completely changed, for memories sake.Well, I’ve become a vampire.Yes, the fairy tales all seem to be true, and I’ve joined the ranks of the creatures of the night.
You see, I went to that party with my plans and my heart on my sleeve.All that I found there was humiliation.It stuck me to the core.She said I was beneath her.My poor heart just couldn’t take it.I have always had a flair for words, but I can think of none, even now, that can describe what I felt.The love of my life pushed me into the waiting arms of death.
And what a death it was.If Cecily was the love of my life, then Drusilla is the love of my death.If my heart was still beating, it would beat for my dark goddess, but it was my dark goddess that took that heartbeat away along with the blinders that had been shielding me from the way things were.
Drusilla took the pathetic weeping mass that was me, and made it possible for me to start anew.She was the first thing I laid my eyes upon after rising from the grave, she is the only woman I want to lay my eyes upon again.She didn’t push me away.Said I was her handsome knight.We shagged right there on my grave.
I would have never even imagined doing something as lewd as that in public before, but now it doesn’t matter.Nothing like social constraints matters to me anymore.Only Drusilla, blood, and revenge enter my mind now.Well shagging does have the tendency to enter as well.
I’ve spent the past fifteen days pondering what I’ve become, and of course spending a bit of time in the underworld, as I have wished to do before.I’m reforming myself.Slowly, yes, but into something greater just the same.Paired with my demon I will be unstoppable.The future holds nothing but greatness for me.I can see the trail paved by the blood of those who oppose me.
Angelus says I will get myself killed before long.He doesn’t enjoy having another man around I suppose.He’s the one that turned Dru. Drove her daft as well.He’s taken it upon himself to teach me ‘the ways’ of being a vampire.Tries to make me stay cultured, but I’ve had enough of that in my life.
Darla is the last member of our little family.She made Angelus.The woman reminds me too much of Cecily for comfort.She is always looking at me with this distain, well when she’s not completely ignoring the fact I exist.She’s the oldest out of all of us, but she’s weak.She’s let Angelus dominate her, and that just rubs me the wrong way.
Despite all of that, I rather like having this ‘family.’ Makes me feel wanted I suppose.I cannot really tell why considering all but Dru treat me like I’m inferior.I’ll prove them wrong someday though.And it will be someday soon, just you mark my words.
That reminds me.The name is Spike now.Dru said William wasn’t a good enough name for her handsome knight.Lasher said he would rather have a railroad spike shoved through his head than have to listen to another one of my poems.I carry one with me now.For his sake, let’s hope he doesn’t meet me in a dark alley one night. ~Spike
~Part: 4~ Enroll Now!- Angelus’ School of Torture for Young Vampires!
January 31, 1880
Guess whom Angelus and I ran across tonight?I’ve found nothing leaves you quite so satisfied as a spot of torture.
We were in the Red Bear talking.I don’t get it but the pillock has taken quite the interest in me.I’m not quite sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing, after all he did drive my dearest Drusilla insane. I guess I’ve proved my usefulness to him. Anyway, let’s get on with the story of one of the most satisfying nights of my life.
About the time we exited the pub, Lasher and his group crawled pissed (Isn’t it wonderful?I’ve been spending so much more time with the lower-class lately.It’s simply thrilling to be able to learn such vernaculars.And there I go spouting off like a pansy again.) from one of the cheaper pubs in the area.
The first one I killed was Roth.He’s the one that managed to brass me off first.He was still laughing when I grabbed him.They all were.But by the time I was finished with him, the whole lot of them was scared shitless.The fear in them made the entire act all the sweeter.It made the blood sweeter.
Gladham was next, and was to be followed by Saunders, but I had to merely snap his neck because Lasher decided to try to make a run for it.I left Angelus to deal with the last of the group, Widgeon, as I followed Lasher.As I said before I had a special mode of death picked for him.
I tracked him around London until a few hours before dawn.The fool didn’t realize that the entire time I had been driving him to where I wanted him to go- the railroad yard.I got there before him, of course.Now this is an event that I want to remember for the rest of my life, so I’m making sure not to leave a single detail out.
“Angelus, might you hold this fellow for me?”I knew he was there, of course.He moved from the shadows with the fluid grace I’ve come to associate with my grandsire, and quickly held Lasher up by the throat.
“Happy to oblige,” Angelus stated smirking at the man that was within his grasp.I just sat and watched until Lasher began turning purple.I didn’t want him to die to early into the game.Where was the fun in that?
“Now then, I’d rather not have him dead, please.”
Angelus shook him a bit before putting him down, “Such a shame.The other one was quite tasty I thought.”
I hopped up from my perch grinning at the both of them.I silently wondered how much longer it would take for Lasher’s eyes to explode in his head.They certainly were buggered out at the moment.
A plan had already formed in my mind. “No, it will be his decision if he lives or dies tonight.”I smiled again as Lasher gurgled. “Why Cyril, you don’t think I’m completely uncivilized because I’m a vampire, do you?I’m crushed.”I walked around him then knelt at the railroad tracks.I managed to pull out a spike, and don’t think that was easy.
I taunted a bit more, before I finally got to the enjoyable part.His thoughts about hearing my poetry were about to come true. He pissed in his pants when he realized what I had planned. “I think my new situation may have improved my poetry,” I started.“I’ll give you a choice, old man.And I warn you, there’s only one right choice here.You can listen to the new poem I’ve written, or I can shove this railroad spike through your skull.Understand?”My only answer was a moan, but Angelus got a proud look on his face.
“You may have some potential, boy.”Well that made me feel great.I can’t understand this need I have to impress Angelus, but it’s there, and his comment had helped to make my night.It was that, and the blood, and Lasher pissing in his pants.That makes one complete night for William the Bloody.
I kind of like that.Has a ring to it.The bastards used to call me that.William the Bloody Awful Poet.I think it’s poetic justice that I go by that when killing them.
I was telling of Lasher’s death.He was finally able to mumble out, “The poem.”
I had hoped he said that.“I’m sorry,” I said.“I don’t happen to have a new poem on me.”He tried to fight me, but I rammed the spike right through his temple and out the other side.I licked a bit of blood from the wound.Worst blood I’ve ever tasted.I looked up at Angelus and grinned.“I should have known all his taste was in his mouth.”
After that we went out and took a couple of whores home for Darla and Drusilla as usual.She was quite proud of me, and wanted to hear all about it. She’s in one of her dazes again.Angelus and Darla keep telling me she will just get over it (and she does) but I can’t help but let it worry me.She is my dark goddess after all.
Which leave me to now.I think I’ll read a bit.Maybe go down to the pub. ~Spike
February 7, 1880
Been a bit, and I’m not going to write much.Just a few things I want to get off my mind.Angelus took Dru into his room tonight.It’s obvious what he’s doing to her and I hate it.I’m the one that should be doing those things to her not him!Bloody pillock gets what he wants when he wants it.
I learned that the hard way the other night.Had the broken ribs to prove it.I don’t remember how I displeased him, but I did and got a beating for it.The man has mood swings worse than any woman I’ve ever come across.I have a feeling him taking Dru tonight is to punish me for whatever the hell it was I did too.He knows how to hit where it hurts.
I’m learning from him.I don’t know if he realises it or not, but I am.I watch him, how he kills.Someday I’ll use it against him.The wanker won’t know what hit him either.
I’m going out now.I can’t sit here and listen to my goddess’ moan anymore.I’ve discovered I can still get pissed.I think that’s what I’m gonna do.Go get pissed, maybe find a nice whore to keep me occupied.Anything to get out of here and away from the sounds of shagging.
~Spike
~Part: 5~
February 14, 1880
It seems fitting that I write of the demise of “the love of my life” on today, St. Valentine’s Day. There is a certain sense of irony to it. Even though she’s not dead yet, so I can’t really call it her demise. Perhaps the beginning of her demise because, I’ll get her soon. Enough of that though, it makes me sound like a poof.
See, I just wanted to kill the bint, but Angelus had to plan. And of course we had to follow that damned plan. So I had the extreme joy of going to the parties I didn’t really like all that much before, and flirt with girls a really didn’t like all that much before either. So, a bit of it was fun. And yeah, the look on Cecily’s face was kind of worth it.
But the girl’s blasted father kept interfering! Now, I know the man isn’t normal. I’ve known since before I died. And he knows what vampires are. He just had to bugger everything up! I could have had her that first bloody night if it weren’t for him, and of course Angelus and his stupid plans.
So I get to go to more blasted parties. To romance shy young girls, to make them feel sorry for my oh so poor broken heart. This is taking too long; much more of this stupid plan will drive me insane. Just thinking about it makes me angry. I’m off to find Dru. She always makes things better. ~Spike
February 25, 1880
She’s dead. You’d think I’d be the happiest vampire around. But, I’m not. I’m more pissed than anything. HER DEATH WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE! I knew her damned father was going to cause more trouble. So, now I’m sitting here in pain without the satisfaction of Cecily’s blood on my hands. I had so many chances, but the oh great one had his stupid plan.
I went through his whole romancing thing. Girl after girl on my side, thinking Cecily wretched for ever throwing my love away. It worked too. But in a moment of insanity or something of Angelus rubbing off on me I decided to leave the chit alive, that I would kill her slowly.
She wasn’t in my possession long before dearest daddy sent out the search parties. It seemed he had quite a few demon contacts (Angelus tells me that’s because the bastards tastes in sexual partners ran a little towards the darker side of things), and managed to send them all after us.
Angelus starting forming another bloody plan almost right away. I didn’t even know about it until it was upon me. Can’t the iron* ever just be impulsive. So, he got Darla to lure Addams to our home.
For the sake of saying it one more time. I really hate Angelus.
Now, back to the point. After hours of waiting for great-grand-mum to show back up, we finally get to put the new plan into action. Touching and kissing Cecily was so much different than touching and kissing Dru. Yes, I had to seduce the girl. Quite a bit of fun there actually, but I almost lost myself in her. I may not “be” William anymore, but I still have the memory of the great love I felt for her. Fortunately, that memory was overpowered by my wish for her death.
I had her there, at my mercy when Addams, her dearest daddy, burst right in and managed to throw me right onto the stupid iron candlestick holder. That is why I am currently in pain. Dru got me off, and started babbling about how Addams couldn’t see and couldn’t hear and that I should just watch.
Well, long story short, the bastard staked his own daughter, and took from me my kill. Just thinking about it makes me even more brassed off. She was supposed to be mine. My kill. Addams escaped by jumping out the window all while promising vengeance.
Now, we’re headed to France. Darla decided she wanted to go see Paris. Truthfully, I don’t care where we bloody go. As long is it isn’t here, where the memories will haunt me.
She was supposed to be mine.
~Spike
~Part: 6~ Interlude and Plot Bunnies
Willow was startled from her reading induced trance by the harsh ringing of her phone. In seconds she went from complete stillness to a frantic rush to grab a bookmark to save her place and then make a mad dash for the phone. She made it after the fourth ring, just in time to save the caller from having to answer to her machine. "Hello," she sputtered, trying to catch her breath.
"Willow? What's wrong why are you gasping?"
"Angel?" Willow briefly stopped to think on the date. No, it wasn't time for their weekly call. Something had to be up.
"I had to run for the phone. Now, what's up? Not that you have to have a reason to call me or anything, but you normally call on Friday and well, it's Tuesday and—"
"Stop and breathe, Willow," Angel ordered, his tone sounding amused. Of course his tone was amused. He was always amused when she babbled, and now she needed to stop babbling mentally as well because she was missing what he was saying, "—if you would come down for a few days to help us with it."
"Of course I'll come and help you Angel, I'm due for a trip anyway."
"That's great because I've already made train reservations for you."
Willow smiled into the receiver, "You knew I'd say yes….wait. A train?"
"Erm. Yes. There were no available flights. I'll have—No Spike you can't—Not now—You'll have your chance to—Go away William! Don't make me-- Err sorry about that Willow. I'll have the information about the times e-mailed to you. I'm really sorry if this is an inconvenience."
Willow couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of what had to be going on in L.A. "No problem at all Angel. I'll see you in a few days then?"
"Of course, little one. We're looking forward to seeing you."
Willow blushed, "Oh! And tell Spike that I'm enjoying his package! Bye Angel!"
"Alright. Goodbye Willow."
Willow hung up the phone and stretched. She had been reading for hours. Spike's story just had her so enthralled. The train ride to L.A. would certainly give her time to read more. Speaking of reading more, she moved to pick up the journal that she had been reading before the phone call but stopped short. She had better pack and get her information before she lost herself in the life of Spike again. And eat. Food was of the good.
~Meanwhile in L.A.~
Angel smiled and turned to Spike who was sulking in the corner as he set the phone down, "She's coming."
Spike scowled, "I gathered that ya poof. Now why in `ell wouldn't you let me talk to `er?"
"Long distance bill, besides she'll be here in a few days, you can talk to Willow all you want then. She said to tell you she was enjoying whatever you sent her." Angel explained sitting down at his desk. If anyone had told him that Spike would be living with him again after almost a century, he would have called them insane. But he and his grandchilde had come to an understanding over the past couple of years. A mutual intrest of sorts.
Willow.
"I'm glad. She say anything else `bout me?"
"Nothing at all. Now if you don't mind I have work to do."
Spike knew when he was being dismissed, and didn't mind it all that much. The less time he had to spend in the company of the great poof, the better. He smiled to himself as he lazily walked out of the room. Soon Willow would be with him again. She'd know more about him than anyone other than himself had known before. He liked that notion. Sharing his journals with her was one of the best ideas he had ever had. It would make his mission much easier as well. His mission to convince Willow to stay with him.
~End L.A.~
Willow sat down amid the journals once again, feeling refreshed. Her train would leave in the morning. Until then she could most definitely continue reading. She was very curious about what happened to Spike in France. She gently removed her bookmark from the tome then found her place.
April 10, 1880-
~Part: 7~ Downtime
April 10, 1880
It's been a couple months since I've last written, but even with eternity on my hands, I feel that time is short. That and I've been too bloody pissed to write straight. Drusilla has been in Angelus' bed every night since we came to this God forsaken place. I know he's keeping her just to torture me. Show me who is boss. The bloke is all about dominance.
I don't know what I was expecting from Paris, but this isn't it. This is bloody awful. If I am getting anything out of this trip, it's the reaffirmation that I hate the French. They're a bunch of prissy berks*. There's only three things you can do around here. Hunt. Shag. Or get bloody pissed.
Darla has gotten even more bubble-headed since we arrived. She keeps going on about how "The Master" is here and how we should be attending the court soon, and on and on and on. Whoever this master is, he's sure got her in a tizzy. I have the feeling that the only reason we haven't gone yet is because Dru made a big deal about how the stars said I'm not ready yet. She gets completely uncontrollable whenever the matter is brought up.
She's been a bit worse for wear lately. Must have something to do with Angelus bedding her every night. I know that would drive me to insanity. I don't dare say anything like that aloud though. Crossing him lately has meant a straight out beating. Despite what he says, I'm not stupid, so I have been staying out as long as possible and keeping my mouth shut around him. I may be getting used to the pain, but that doesn't mean I like it.
It's evident that the only one of us that is happy here is Darla. ~Spike
April 24, 1880
Well, I now know why Angelus has been so pissy lately. It's all of Darla's chatter about the Master. The bastard's jealous. I'm still cracking up over my realization. The face he made when I told him about it was well worth the beating I got for it.
It also appears that we will be paying a visit to this Master and his court. Angelus received a summons to it last night, and once again his anger gets taken out on me. I think he needs to find a new hobby. This violence thing gets old really fast.
This summons thing is causing me more than Angelus induced pains as well. I have to wear a bloody suit. Darla insists. A suit! I haven't worn one since I died, and had never planned on wearing one again. Just isn't me anymore. But Darla insists, and what Darla wants, she eventually gets, so I have no say in the matter.
Well, sun's down. Time to go drink. ~Spike
April 27, 1880
I'm writing this rather close to the last time I wrote, but that nigh was the most bloody fun I've had in a good long time, and I want to write it down before the memory of it passes in a drunken haze.
I went out to the nearest pub and got a few drinks. Well, then some prissy ass French poof walks right up to me and insults the Queen. It was a deliberate bait I tell you. Vampire or not, no bleeding Frenchmen can insult the Queen and get away with it. I broke his neck.
His buddies got all mad and attacked me, and before long it was a full out brawl! I went around drinking blood and snapping necks. Everyone was so caught up in the rumble that they didn't even notice when the random person dropped dead. The thrill of the fight was almost as good as the hunt! The only thing better than violence is shagging.
Which I also got to do. When I got back to the house Darla and Angelus were otherwise engaged so I had Dru all to myself. Afterwards she went all loopy again and starting going on about how the stars had told her there was a change coming and that I had better be careful.
I hate it when she gets like that. It just ruins the effect of really great sex.
Since that night there's been no talk of visiting masters or anything. And Angelus is in a really good mood. The git is smiling entirely too much. I know he's got something in the works. It's impossible for him to just be happy. Well I take that back. He's happy when torturing people. Stupid poof.
Speaking of the bastard, here he comes now. I don't like him seeing me writing. Always asks if I'm writing more of my "bloody awful poems." So that's enough for now.
~Spike
~Part: 8~ Down in the Underground
June 6, 1880
We finally went to see the master. Nobody ever found it well enough to explain to me that we are part of a bloody clan! I know Angelus didn't tell me just so that I would get myself into trouble.
Instead of me getting into trouble, I got him into a bit. Well, maybe I did get myself into a tiny bit of trouble.
We left the house right at sunset, and went to this bloody big crypt. It wasn't anything much to look at until Darla opened a hidden door which lead underground. It was a huge cavern that had been fashioned into a sort of unholy cathedral, complete with ribbing carved into the ceiling to simulate rafters. It was great and all, but a bit superfluous if you ask me.
There's that bloody poet in me again.
There were other vampires everywhere. And I do mean EVERYWHERE. I never imagined that there were this many vampires in the world, let alone one clan. Makes you feel kind of small. They were all done up in fashion's best, not one looked worn or ragged.
There had to of been well over two hundred vampires in that room!
There were mortals there too. They were chained to the walls and in cages, just waiting for some random vampire to get hungry and end their life. I have to say that had to be the best thing about this whole party. Free food. Some of the mortals chained to the walls were covered in deep cuts that oozed blood into golden goblets, which were passed to waiting vampires.
When I looked closer at all of the people in the room, I could see mortals in the crowd as well. They were dressed up like the vampires and seemed to be serving a particular vampire. After we got home I talked Darla into explaining to me that these mortals were pets to the vampires they hade been serving. She went on to blather about how she couldn't fathom why vampires kept pets. Angelus grunted and interjected that some just like the warmth of a nice ample mortal.
When we finally reached the floor of the main area the room went completely silent. Music stopped and everything as the crowd parted to let us through. Of course, I had no idea what the fuck was going on. How was I supposed to know Darla was the master's favored childe. It's not like anyone tells me anything.
Just ahead of us in the middle of the room there was a raised dais that had two big chairs on it. They were practically bloody thrones. The smaller of the two was empty, but in the other one sat the ugliest bugger I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. His face alone is enough to give me nightmares, and that's saying quite a lot.
Angelus elbowed me when he caught me staring. He lent over and growled at me as we continued to approach, "This is the master, boy. Keep your eyes adverted if you want to survive tonight."
Why in the hell does he have to call me boy al of the bloody time? He must do it to brass me off. I did what he told me to though. I have no death wish, now that I've just discovered immortality… well somewhat immortality anyway. We kneeled down in front of the shriveled bastard as he starting going on about how pleased he was that his favorite childe and her "family" had finally come to visit. Then he pulled Darla up to sit next to him.
That's when things started to get a bit more interesting. Right as Darla's bum hit the chair a light growl echoed through the room. The master just laughed as everyone turned to look at the source. There was a tall chit in the corner, obviously a powerful vampire looking at Darla with extreme displeasure written all over what was a right beautiful face. She had long curly red hair that was so dark it was nearly black, and bright green eyes that were flitted with the yellow of her demon. Body to die for that was all prettied up in the garb of a queen. Jewels and such sparkling all over. I swear the only person to ever turn me on as much is my dark princess, who was giggling and singsong-ing "Auntie, Auntie, Auntie's come to play. We must have tea! Such fun!"
The chit slinked down from the corner and curtsied in front of the master and Darla. And though Darla obviously missed the… gesture… the red-head made, I didn't and it was great. I decided I liked this chit right then and there. Anyone who had the galls to slip that kind of stuff around the "all –powerful and important master" is good in my book. Besides. Angelus caught the gesture to and it brassed him off a bit.
Shriveled-and-Undead must have caught too because he broke into more laughter before reprimanding the chit. "Ariana. There is no reason to be so ugly. Now Darla and I are going to go catch up, after all it has been so terribly long since she has graced us with her presence. Why don't you stay and enjoy the remainder of the party, my love." With that the old bugger that we had come to see to begin with, carted Darla off and we were left with the still silent room.
Ariana, whom I now know as the master's mate (according to some stupid fuck I talked to when we were there. Angelus says Shriveled-and-Undead just thinks they're mates, that she tricked him) and first childe, looked around the room and just said, "Well?" And the party started full force again.
As soon as things were going again she beckoned us to… Damnit. Angelus is calling for me. Stupid bugger knows I'm busy. I'll have to finish this later. The bastard sounds pissed about something. This is bound to be a long night.
But before I close, I think I'll write down an interesting little tidbit from my time in the court; The master isn't really the one in control. Ariana is.
~Part: 9~ More Boring Stuff (But Don't Take My Word For It)
December 12, 1880
I don't have time to finish the bloody story from six months ago. I don't have the time to write much of anything really. Angelus has us moving out again.
Things have changed since the last time I was able to write. My little killing spree at that bar drew some attention, and the police were trying to hunt down the notorious William the Bloody. I, of course, enjoyed the publicity. Made me feel all manly. But Angelus was getting increasingly paranoid. First the bastard forbid me to hunt, but even that wasn't good enough. Besides it was driving me nuts, which drove him nuts, which in turn earned me several beatings (that the wanker got off on, bloody poof).
The police tracked us down following HIS trail and we had to flee to an empty mineshaft just outside of the city. The poof was to proud to just go to Shriveled and Undead, like we are getting ready to do now. No, he had to stick us in a mineshaft then beat me for it like it's my fault he's such a pansy (he got off on that beating too).
And I'm still not allowed to leave. I've been in this stinking tunnel for three months. THREE MONTHS. I used to sneak out on occasion but Angelus caught me and then chained me to the wall for a week.
But finally we're moving on, off to stay was Crispy (my newest nickname for the master) for a bit. Ariana'll let me hunt and Angelus will be too busy being jealous of the master all the time to even notice.
Well, time to stop. I have to lug Dru's dolls to the carriage , and they're bleeding heavy! ~Spike
February 14, 1881
Angelus is walking funny. I wonder what the master did to him. Judging from the look on the bastard's face, whatever it was wasn't pleasant. Almost feel sorry for him. Almost. I'd feel sorry for him if he weren't such a right bastard all of the time.
Though it seems we've bonded a bit. I don't piss him off as much, and he actually teaches me things. It's a good trade off I suppose. Keeps me from being chained up as much. Right now he's teaching me about this chit called the slayer. He had mentioned her when we were in the mines, but hadn't elaborated until now.
See, the slayer is a girl born once every generation to kill off vampires. She's given super powers to help and is the greatest single threat to our kind. Killing one is a great honor in the clan. Angelus claims to have offed one (I don't believe him though) and Ariana does too. I haven't asked Darla (she's off shagging the master), and Dru just giggles and goes on about taffy whenever it is brought up.
The point is, I'm bound and determined to kill a slayer. Two even. Maybe then all of these pompous buggers around here will give me the time of day.
Angelus says that the current one is in Russia. Maybe if I bug him enough he'll move us. From the tender way he's treating his ass I'd say he's about ready to leave anyway. ~Spike
February 28, 1881
I have spent the entire bloody day having a sodding tea party with Dru. I couldn't have been asleep for more than an hour (after a particularly fun torture lesson with Ariana. The chit knows her bloodletting) when she pounced on me singing, "My dark knight must come and drink with me and my pretties!"
I groaned, but let her drag me off to her room where she had all of her dolls all set up. I knew this was a bad idea from the start, but I can't deny my princess anything. So I sat there and humored her ALL DAY LONG. All she did was babble on and on about her dolls and the stars like she normally does.
At one point Ariana poked her head in and out right laughed at me. I laughed as Dru tried to drag her in too, but Ariana escaped saying "Later my little one, my lord speaks of the Hellmouth again," then left.
Dru giggled again before serving me more tea, "The stars say that the mouth will eat the master right up one day. Just like cherries it will. I like cherries. Spikey may I have some?"
This was really the point that I stopped listening to her and started thinking. Most of the time we had been staying with the clan Crispy has been going on about this Hellmouth thing. I think that he's planning on opening it, but Ariana keeps bringing up some other matter to keep him distracted.
I don't know what is so important about this thing, but everyone that actually talks to me thinks opening it is a bad idea. Ariana has been grumbling about it to Angelus and everyone else for at least a month.
Angelus is most definitely ready to leave. I heard him arguing with Darla about it a few nights ago. Seems she's rather happy here, though I don't see why. I mean she's shagging Crispy whom seems more interested in buggering Angelus, which is why Angelus is ready to leave.
Oh, and that slayer in Russia is dead. Some demon killed her. Pity. I swear the next one is mine. ~Spike
~Part: 10~ The Scourge of Europe
July 23, 1881
Things have been bloody great lately. As soon as we got out of that cavern, Angelus decided we should go out and kill half of Paris. I kid not. I really think it has something to do with making it impossible for the master to stay there, but hey, who am I to disagree with a little bloodshed. Okay, a load of bloodshed.
We didn’t just stop with killing a bunch of people. Nope, we set things on fire and ran amuck and all sorts of fun things. I got to try out some of that torture I learned. It was great, and the best part. We’re still doing it. We left Paris about three months ago, but the killing hasn’t stopped. We’re just going through Europe, and leaving a wake of destruction behind us.
This one chit that I tortured in the two we were in three nights ago just screamed and screamed. It was great. Well until it actually started giving me a headache, but then I just cut out her tongue and watched her gurgle. I don’t think anything is more amusing then watching someone gurgle.
I was going to just let her bleed to death, but Dru called me to bed, so I just killed her. No human is worth missing bed time with Dru.
But God, I never thought I could be this happy! The carnage, Dru, everything is just so bloody WONDERFUL! I can’t stop thinking about it. In fact I can barely sit still I’m so excited that we’re going out again tonight. I love the feel of the energy running through my veins almost as much as I love the sound of their screams.
Oh! I can’t stand sitting here anymore! I have to go do something. Kill something! I’m sure there’s something still alive around here. There has to be. Change of plans, Dru’s awake, I can think of a better way to expend this energy than killing. ~Spike
October 31, 1881
O Hallows Eve kind of sucks when you’re undead. You’d think it would be the perfect night to go out and wreck havoc, but it’s like the one night of the year all things unnatural stay in.
I’m bored to say the least. We’re somewhere in Germany now, still killing as we go and such, but I’m not as excitable about it as I was. I still love it though. Now the challenge is coming up with new and more creative ways to kill. I’ve began experimenting more with the railroad spikes I used to kill Lasher.
It seems like so long ago that I was that poofy little snot that lived with his mother in London. I haven’t even thought about writing poetry at all in the last year. Now that I think about it though, maybe I should write some poetry. I think I may have changed drastically in that department.
Her screams they called
Like a siren’s song
Calling me closer
Begging me to do her wrong
My knife it gleamed
In the pale moonlight
She cowered in the corner
The room heavy with her fright.
I had no mercy
Drawing out each stroke
She died within the hour
And for that, I’m a decent bloke.
And now we know how bored I am being cooped up in here tonight. I’m writing bleeding poetry again. Ah well. Death and blood is so much better than that love crap I used to blather on about.
I wouldn’t trade my new life for anything. The power, the killing, the sex, the everything about being a vampire is addicting. It’s been nearly two years you know. Since I died, since I took my revenge, since I became Spike. I was thinking about throwing a party, but what’s the point? We party every night.
Except for tonight. Damn I’m bored. ~Spike
January 11, 1882
Happy death-day to me. Angelus keeps telling me that two years is nothing to be proud of, but from what Darla tells me, most fledglings don’t make it two months so I think I’ll be proud of myself.
We’re heading south again. I think the great poof wants to go to Ireland for a while, his homeland. Why, I have no idea. I myself would rather not see my home ever again. There’s so much else in the world to see. Of course I think he’s already seen most of it, but I haven’t so there.
I think Darla’s trying to convince him to take us into Asia for a spell. Something about silk. Trust her to only want to go somewhere for the cloth. I hear in China they have a different way of fighting. I’d like to pick it up. Give me some leverage over the regular punch and tumble fighting that I face. Not that I need that leverage. I kick ass and take names.
It’s time for me to go get my birthday present from Dru now. ~Spike