The figure stood and watched the people walking through the streets
of the town, smiling to himself. The smile was predatory, dark, and the
people that passed him gave him a wide berth, He was aware of them,
everything about them, from how fast their hearts beat, to how they felt.
It wasn't the warmth he felt from the young lovers walking toward him, or
the satisfaction of the man across the street after a particularly good
meal that made him smile. It was the fear. All of them felt it, to
varying degrees, no matter what else they might be feeling. Since he'd
arrived, he'd often gone out walking, just to touch that fear, and, where
he could, encourage it. It was perfume to him, and the entire city smelled
of it.
The sun was just beginning to sink beneath the horizon, and there were still preparations to be made before he could rest. He turned, his steps taking him back toward his rooms at one of the local hotels. He cut a striking figure, clad from head to foot in black, and carrying himself like royalty, like someone used to wielding power. More than that, though, were his eyes. When he'd been younger, they'd been deep brown, but now, the color had deepened to the point that they appeared black in all but the brightest light. The effect they had on people never failed to please him. Another couple passed him, their quiet chatter tapering to silence as they watched him. "Evening," he said as he passed them, his tone cheerful, and flashed them a smile. The woman stared for a moment longer, then looked away quickly.
He chuckled to himself. He found he truly loved the city, even if it was called Sunnydale.
---
Spike felt the call, even in his sleep. Something pulled at him, tearing him from his dreams. He slowly opened his eyes, half expecting to see the phantoms that had been chasing him, but even his enhanced eyesight couldn't pierce the darkness that lay coiled in the basement of the school. Again, he felt something tug at his mind, and he came fully awake, pushing himself up off the floor. He could almost hear a voice, urging him out into the night, but he shook his head, violently, trying to ignore it. It felt cold, and cruel. Something in him was repulsed by the feeling, but something else, something darker within him, responded to it.
"No," he said, pressing himself back against the cool concrete wall. "NO."
The call came again, stronger, and he heard the voice. "Join me," it said. The voice held the promise of pain and blood and a hundred other things that made him afraid. One hand balled into a fist, and he slammed it into the side of his head, the flash of pain briefly blocking out the voice. Again, and again he smashed his fist into his head, until he could no longer hear the voice.
He froze in mid-motion. He felt and heard nothing, but he waited. When he was sure whatever it was had stopped, he expelled the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and sank to the floor.
---
The vamp Buffy was fighting froze, and cocked its head to one side as if it was listening to something. Buffy thrust the stake into its heart, and it crumbled to dust without so much as a change of expression. She was exhausted, her patrol had turned up a total of four vampires, two of which had been older and more experienced than she was used to. She looked forward to heading home and taking a long, hot shower, but decided to make one last stop before that.
The school was dark, even the janitor had left for the night, and Buffy let herself in using her key. She made her way through the halls, and down the stairs into the basement. Feeling along the wall, she found the light switch, and flipped it on. The flourescent bulbs flickered to life, bathing the lower hallway in a cold, white light. After giving her eyes a moment to adjust, she continued on.
She found Spike curled in the corner of his room, staring blankly at the wall. "Spike?" she called, waiting before she moved toward him.
He pushed himself up quickly, his eyes wide with fear. He stared for a moment, his entire body tense, before he asked "Buffy?"
"That would be me."
Spike relaxed for a moment, but tensed again, asking "Are you real?"
"The last time I checked, I was," Buffy said, taking a step toward him. She reached out, and touched his arm, asking "Do I feel real?"
Spike smiled. "Real," he said, nodding his head.
"Glad you think so," Buffy said with a grin. "I just wanted to check and see how you're doing."
"Better now. Bad earlier. Very bad," he said, his face clouding as he remembered the voice.
"Bad dreams?"
"No, more than dreams," he said. "Something bad is coming."
Buffy frowned. She was getting pretty good at understanding Spike's moods, and it seemed that whatever was bothering him was worse than usual. "What sort of bad?"
"Don't, don't know. Heard it calling me. Wanted me to go to it. Couldn't, couldn't go, wants bad things. Done too many bad things already, can't do anymore. I won't do what it wants. I can't."
Buffy squeezed his arm, trying to reassure him. She thought back, briefly to the vampire she'd fought earlier, and how it had frozen during the fight. Slowly, she asked "Can you tell me more about it?"
---
He lay in bed. The calling had taken a lot out of him, but he'd expected that. He was sure the majority of Sunnydale's darker inhabitants had heard him, though, so he was satisfied. He knew the second calling would be easier, and was looking forward to the steps that would come after it.
He rolled over, looking at the woman who lay in bed next to him. He checked to make sure the binding spell he'd used was still in place, and relaxed it a bit. Her face went from the seductive look she'd been giving him when he'd cast it to one of pure terror, and she turned her head to look at him. She struggled briefly, but the spell kept her arms and legs motionless. Her mouth opened, but the spell prevented her from screaming as he said, "You know, prostitution is a dangerous trade. But, please believe me, I'm not going to do to you whatever it is you're thinking right now."
"You see, what I have in mind for you is much, much worse."
---
A/N: Just a teaser, I'm afraid. I'll hopefully be posting the next chapter later today, as well as the next in the untitled story I started so many months ago. There's a third story I'm working on, and I may post the first chapter to that laterl, after I do some editing. So many ideas. So little time to actually get them written. *sigh*
As always, please R&R. Let me know if you like it, let me know if you hate, but either way, let me know. Oh, and if you hate it, let me know why ;)
The sun was just beginning to sink beneath the horizon, and there were still preparations to be made before he could rest. He turned, his steps taking him back toward his rooms at one of the local hotels. He cut a striking figure, clad from head to foot in black, and carrying himself like royalty, like someone used to wielding power. More than that, though, were his eyes. When he'd been younger, they'd been deep brown, but now, the color had deepened to the point that they appeared black in all but the brightest light. The effect they had on people never failed to please him. Another couple passed him, their quiet chatter tapering to silence as they watched him. "Evening," he said as he passed them, his tone cheerful, and flashed them a smile. The woman stared for a moment longer, then looked away quickly.
He chuckled to himself. He found he truly loved the city, even if it was called Sunnydale.
---
Spike felt the call, even in his sleep. Something pulled at him, tearing him from his dreams. He slowly opened his eyes, half expecting to see the phantoms that had been chasing him, but even his enhanced eyesight couldn't pierce the darkness that lay coiled in the basement of the school. Again, he felt something tug at his mind, and he came fully awake, pushing himself up off the floor. He could almost hear a voice, urging him out into the night, but he shook his head, violently, trying to ignore it. It felt cold, and cruel. Something in him was repulsed by the feeling, but something else, something darker within him, responded to it.
"No," he said, pressing himself back against the cool concrete wall. "NO."
The call came again, stronger, and he heard the voice. "Join me," it said. The voice held the promise of pain and blood and a hundred other things that made him afraid. One hand balled into a fist, and he slammed it into the side of his head, the flash of pain briefly blocking out the voice. Again, and again he smashed his fist into his head, until he could no longer hear the voice.
He froze in mid-motion. He felt and heard nothing, but he waited. When he was sure whatever it was had stopped, he expelled the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, and sank to the floor.
---
The vamp Buffy was fighting froze, and cocked its head to one side as if it was listening to something. Buffy thrust the stake into its heart, and it crumbled to dust without so much as a change of expression. She was exhausted, her patrol had turned up a total of four vampires, two of which had been older and more experienced than she was used to. She looked forward to heading home and taking a long, hot shower, but decided to make one last stop before that.
The school was dark, even the janitor had left for the night, and Buffy let herself in using her key. She made her way through the halls, and down the stairs into the basement. Feeling along the wall, she found the light switch, and flipped it on. The flourescent bulbs flickered to life, bathing the lower hallway in a cold, white light. After giving her eyes a moment to adjust, she continued on.
She found Spike curled in the corner of his room, staring blankly at the wall. "Spike?" she called, waiting before she moved toward him.
He pushed himself up quickly, his eyes wide with fear. He stared for a moment, his entire body tense, before he asked "Buffy?"
"That would be me."
Spike relaxed for a moment, but tensed again, asking "Are you real?"
"The last time I checked, I was," Buffy said, taking a step toward him. She reached out, and touched his arm, asking "Do I feel real?"
Spike smiled. "Real," he said, nodding his head.
"Glad you think so," Buffy said with a grin. "I just wanted to check and see how you're doing."
"Better now. Bad earlier. Very bad," he said, his face clouding as he remembered the voice.
"Bad dreams?"
"No, more than dreams," he said. "Something bad is coming."
Buffy frowned. She was getting pretty good at understanding Spike's moods, and it seemed that whatever was bothering him was worse than usual. "What sort of bad?"
"Don't, don't know. Heard it calling me. Wanted me to go to it. Couldn't, couldn't go, wants bad things. Done too many bad things already, can't do anymore. I won't do what it wants. I can't."
Buffy squeezed his arm, trying to reassure him. She thought back, briefly to the vampire she'd fought earlier, and how it had frozen during the fight. Slowly, she asked "Can you tell me more about it?"
---
He lay in bed. The calling had taken a lot out of him, but he'd expected that. He was sure the majority of Sunnydale's darker inhabitants had heard him, though, so he was satisfied. He knew the second calling would be easier, and was looking forward to the steps that would come after it.
He rolled over, looking at the woman who lay in bed next to him. He checked to make sure the binding spell he'd used was still in place, and relaxed it a bit. Her face went from the seductive look she'd been giving him when he'd cast it to one of pure terror, and she turned her head to look at him. She struggled briefly, but the spell kept her arms and legs motionless. Her mouth opened, but the spell prevented her from screaming as he said, "You know, prostitution is a dangerous trade. But, please believe me, I'm not going to do to you whatever it is you're thinking right now."
"You see, what I have in mind for you is much, much worse."
---
A/N: Just a teaser, I'm afraid. I'll hopefully be posting the next chapter later today, as well as the next in the untitled story I started so many months ago. There's a third story I'm working on, and I may post the first chapter to that laterl, after I do some editing. So many ideas. So little time to actually get them written. *sigh*
As always, please R&R. Let me know if you like it, let me know if you hate, but either way, let me know. Oh, and if you hate it, let me know why ;)