Battle Scars


by Noctiluca




~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let me break it down till I force the issue We miss your face and you know I wish you Would come back down to the Dalva Bar You tell them That's just my battle scar... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The breaking of a human neck makes a strange and satisfyingly painful sound, but there is something peculiar and surreal to it that I could never really trace. Sometimes the eyes will keep staring at you afterwards, looking directly at you, and you can feel them watching you as you turn around and walk away. Sometimes you can still feel the blood pulsating in the veins under the grip of your fingers for one or two seconds after the heartbeat has stopped. I wonder if that's the time it takes for the soul to leave the body. This time, this one horrid time, I was the one who couldn't let go, and those two seconds of hesitation was the time it took me to realize what I had done. **** The monotone sound of the windshield wiper annoys me to no end and I wish the rain would stop, but it keeps pouring down, hammering against the car windows as if trying to break the glass. My fingers wrapped around the cold wheel painfully tight to keep my hands from shaking, I drive along a deserted highway without even knowing where it leads. Not that I'd care at the moment. It's the least problem that I have. On the seat next to mine there's the heavily bandaged body belonging to my childe, the bandages stained with dried, dark blood smelling of pain, covered up to his shoulders with the black leather duster to keep him warm. His head has sunk down on his shoulder and despite being completely battered, swollen, and bruised, Spike sleeps soundly like a little boy, too exhausted to even wake up for a moment when I had carried him outside to the car. Sometimes he moans a little in his sleep, and his eyelids twitch in pain, and every time my head spins around to look at him, making sure that he's okay. Well, as okay as you can be after having been gang raped and beaten to an almost unrecognizable mass of bleeding flesh anyway. The merciless voice in my head keeps singing: "What have I done? What have I done? What have I done?", repeating it like a silent mantra, and there's a desperate chuckle frozen in my throat thinking that maybe it's all that's keeping me sane and going for now. I just couldn't bare it. I just couldn't bare the pain to see my childe like this. I couldn't bare to know that Spike hadn't been able to defend himself when they had held him down and fucked him up the ass so hard it had torn the delicate flesh at his anus apart, looking like somebody had rammed a baseball club in there or worse. I couldn't bare to know that they had violated him in such a way, that his handsome face had been smashed into an agonizing mask of pain. I couldn't bare the thought of all the other things they must have done to him to cause such wounds. Thinking of it, I have to close my eyes for a second to fight down the burning, angry tears that spring to them. To cry would be a relief, and I will not allow myself that. Not now, not after what I have done. "They deserved it," the demon in me whispers. "Just look at him, look at his face! This isn't the deed of human beings, of the race you fight so hard to protect every day and night. They were animals. You couldn't let them get away with it. You know what you did was right." But I know that it's a lie. There is no excuse for what I have done. And there is no absolution. What I have done has changed everything, and no matter how far I run, I will never leave the demon behind that possessed me tonight. Because this demon wasn't Angelus. It was me. ***** It hadn't been hard to find them. As soon as I entered the dark, smoky bar, I knew this was the place. The room still smelled of sex, sweat, and blood, the smell mingling with the stench of piss, alcohol and cigarette smoke. I had taken a long look around, scanning their faces, and it took me less than a second to decide that all of them would go down tonight. There was not one single soul among this scum that called themselves human beings that deserved to be spared. Not the two totally plastered women giggling in a corner, not the big, hairy barkeeper, not the pool players... No, especially not them. You didn't need vampire-keen senses to see the blood stains on one of the billiard tables, or to notice the remains of the fight still scattered on the ground. But still they behaved like nothing had happened, sipping their beer, smoking their cigarettes. And the jukebox in the corner was innocently blaring Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird". I clenched my fists. Angelus was roaring inside of me, wanting out. And I allowed it. This time I used him, his strength, his hatred, his rage, I let him out only so that I could enjoy it more. The first one met an easy death when I grabbed him and snapped his neck. I caught the pool cue he had been holding in his hand before his dead body dropped to the ground, and, with one quick motion, stabbed it through the chest of the man next to him. The stabbed one stared at me with disbelief as he went down to his knees, the man's mouth opening for a scream that never came, that drowned in blood running down his chin before he hit the ground. I heard the familiar noise of a knife being opened with a *click* behind me and smiled, slowly turning around. By then, the adrenaline rushing through my body mingling with a seething bloodlust had me in a state of raging ecstasy, and no one or nothing could have stopped me now. I was dimly aware of the jukebox beginning to play "Highway to hell". I grabbed the hand of the man with the knife before he could even react, and with my other hand pulled the bastard closer to me by the hair. He fought hard, but there was nothing he could do as I slowly brought his hand that still held the knife to his throat and stabbed it in. With a gargling sound a mixture of saliva and blood came out of his mouth and colored my hand with beautiful crimson that seemed to fit the occasion so perfectly. Some fucker behind me had decided that it would be a good idea to smash a chair against my back. I didn't agree. He ended up with the leg of a chair in his stomach, pinning him to the ground. Four and counting. There were at least fifteen more left, and I licked my lips, hungry to take them down. No, make that thirteen. Two of them had just left the room in a panic, running out the back door. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed the hairy barkeeper, who looked like a close relative of King Kong, pull out a gun from under the bar. I grabbed whoever was next to me, some blond slut, and shielded my body from the shots with hers. The barkeep fired at least six bullets into her before her realized what he was doing. That was when all hell broke lose, and the rest of the patrons either ran for the door or rushed towards me. I blocked a blow when someone smacked me over the head with a pool cue from behind. I hit the ground but rolled over and was back on my feet in a second. I rammed my fangs into the neck of the next guy I could get my hands on and ripped his throat out, spitting a piece of bloody flesh into the face of the next attacker. He tumbled backwards in shock. Sensing movement behind me, I spun around and managed to grab the man before he could crash a bottle of JD on my head. I lifted his body and smashed him onto the edge of a pool table. The frail neck broke with a desperate little sound that was music in my ears. I looked around, waiting for the next attack, wanting more, needing more. The room was empty. There was just one more left, an enormous, big guy, taller than me, just staring at me, sizing me up, seemingly untouched by the bodies covering the ground around me, their wounds staining everything with crimson puddles, mingling with the dirt on the ground. He just stared at me for a long moment, and then he let out an angry roar and lunged. Unable to duck in time, I was pulled down with the massive man, who immediately smashed his fist into my face. Again. And again. I struggled to get my hands free under the heavy weight of his body and managed to block the next blow with my right arm, and used my left fist to punch the bastard in the face, the impact knocking his head to the side. I rolled over and jumped back to my feet, spinning around before the giant could get up, my boot connecting with his stomach. He growled in pain. I grabbed him by the hair to straighten his body, so that the tall man's face was exposed and unguarded from the heavy blows I landed with my other hand. The big guy managed to grab me and yanked me away, sending me flying into a pool table, the pool balls jumping over the edge of the table and spreading all over the floor. There was a wisp of the man's hair still in my fist. I let out an angry hiss and climbed back to my feet just in time to grab his fist aiming for my face and yank the giant's arm up behind his back. He howled in pain, even more so when my knee connected to his balls. Big bastard went down to his knees, tears springing to his eyes. I grabbed him by the balls and stood him back up, staring straight into his eyes. And then I unzipped his pants and grabbed his enormous cock, ripping it off with one quick motion. He didn't scream, he was too shocked to. He only gasped, looking like a helpless fish stranded on land. It was the last thing he could do before I cupped his head with my hands and snapped his neck. ***** It's three a.m. now, and I'm still driving down the same fucking road. Dawn is coming soon, and I hope that we will reach the next motel in time. At least it's not raining anymore. When I had started the car and headed out of Sunnydale, I did not care where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get away from this city, from where Buffy was, Buffy who had believed in the good in me, who had made me believe in it too. It wasn't love that had brought me back from hell, something evil had done it. It had sent me back to find my way home, and it seems that now I have. For the first time, I can not blame Angelus for what I have done. But why did I do it? Why did I throw away all those bitter years of regret and agony, all those years I have struggled against the demon inside me for ten minutes of raw bloodlust? I did it because I love my childe. Because when I look at this bruised and bandaged face resting on the seat beside me I know that this strong and beautiful vampire is a part of me. And I will never, ever allow anyone to hurt him. It seems to be a simple observation, but the truth is that somehow I could never accept it until now. Me and this demon that lives inside of me, we are one. Now we truly are. I know that Angelus chose me because I am capable of doing what I did tonight. I know that what I did was wrong, and while I can wash the blood off my clothes, I will never be able to wash it off my hands. I have killed them all. And I do not regret it. I look at Spike as I pull over to a motel by the road. My childe's wounds have already started to heal, his left eye looks better now, as does his lip. I stop the car and trace a light finger over the soft curves of his mouth, wishing I could simply wipe away the pain, or the feeling of shame that wouldn't let him look into my eyes when I took care of him tonight. Suddenly my boy seems to smile a little in his sleep, and I wonder what he is dreaming of. I know first thing he'll do when he wakes up today is tell me that he hates me. I can't help smiling at the thought of it. I just hope that I'll find a way to make it better, to make him forget what has happened last night. A little half-smile steals on my face and I bend down to place a gentle kiss on my childe's lips. I'm pretty sure that I will. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Let me break it down till I force the issue You never come around and you know we miss you Well nobody took your pride away That's something people say Back down the bully to the back of the bus Cause it's time for them to be scared of us Till you're yelling, how we living cause you got the ball Then you rock on, baby, rock on, you rock on ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~The End~

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