Angel's POV

In all of my 242 years, I had never felt this happy. Just holding Buffy Summers, the Slayer, the love of my existence in my arms, filled me to the brim with what I can best describe as a glowing orb of pure bliss. True happiness. Yeah, that's what I'll call it. True happiness, and with not one ounce of regret.

As I curled my arm around her small shoulders, I prepared to settle back into a deep slumber, until, a sharp jab of pain erupted at the center of my chest, crawling around in there like a bear claw. A real bear claw, like it was trying to scrape out my insides. Including my unbeating heart.

I sat up with a gasp and breathed in, forcing back the agonizingly painful sensation coursing throughout my entire being. As the feeling subsided, I sighed with relief, but it only lasted two seconds before coming back with a fiery vengeance. I launched myself off the bed and grabbed my clothes, throwing them on as quickly as my vampire strength would allow.

Pushing open the doors to the outside, I stumbled out into the rain, where the pain seemed to worsen. I fell hard on my knees and gritted my teeth, feeling my insides fight to climb out of my throat and burst out onto the pavement.

"Buffy," I moaned, trying as hard as I could to battle the pain raging on inside me. I curled my fingers in the puddle I knelt in, as if hoping against hope that something could be done by drowning my burning skin in rainwater.

"Buffy!" I cried out once more, but it was no use. What the hell was happening? Why was I feeling this way? Why...after so many years of torment, did I feel like my soul was slipping away? The clan that cursed me with it had told me that I would always live with my humanity, forced to feel the pain of every one of my victims. None of them ever told me that I would lose my body to the demon that took it in the first place.

That I would lose my soul after one night of passion.

Grinding my teeth together, I closed my eyes and prepared to fight off the demon. I wasn't going to let my merciless, psychopathic alter-ego steal my body again. He would not win. I wouldn't be lost. Not again. Not after all this time of finally getting over the constant torment of feeling the pain of my victims. The innocent people that I had tortured and, eventually, killed.

But as I thought this, I knew I was losing. Fast. I knew that as I fought harder, I lost even quicker. After one last attempt at killing the demon, that one last sorry attempt at keeping my soul inside me, I felt it get torn from my helpless hands and watched as the demon grabbed me up and chained me to the back wall of my mind, rendering me useless. Making me a prisoner in my own subconscious. A shell of the man I once was. A ghost of what used to be known as Angel.

Falling to my hands, I coughed out one last word, "Buffy." I fell hard on my elbow. "Oh no." My head bent over my neck and I felt my last ounce of control slip away, and come into the demonic hands of my demon. My other half.

Angelus.

I watched from my secured prison as he got up on his hands, once again getting used to what were my limbs. My arms. My strength. I watched as he looked up at the buildings surrounding him, adjusting to Sunnydale. The last time he had been in possession of my body, it had been 1898, nearly 100 years since I had been cursed with my soul.

"Hey," a woman's voice called out to him from behind. "You okay?" I could tell from her concern, and raspy voice that she was a human. I rattled the chains that bound me and shouted everything I could toward Angelus.

Don't! Don't hurt her! You merciless bastard! Don't do it! But I knew it was useless. I had no say. The demon ruled my body now. I was a mere shadow. A blip on the radar screens of the world. I had lost the fight.

"You want me to call 911?" the woman asked. I could feel Angelus's usual spark start to ignite. That spark was normal in his head. It usually meant one thing, and one thing only.

Hunger.

Need.

Longing for a good murder. A terrible need to snuff out the life of some random innocent.

"No," he finally answered her, standing straight up, exhaling slowly. "The pain is gone."

"You sure?" the woman asked, sucking on something. I caught the whiff of cigarette smoke.

"Yeah," he answered again, but very slowly.

He turned around with quick succession and grabbed her, bringing her harshly against his chest. He pressed his mouth to her neck and inhaled her blood as if she were as tiny as a shot glass. The blood was gone almost instantly. I could smell every ounce of her smoke-infused veins. There was nothing left in her.

Angelus enjoyed it thoroughly, and I must admit, I did, too. Human blood was one thing that I will always crave the most. I may be a shell of a man, but being a vampire, blood will always be the first priority. But its still wrong, though.

The woman dropped to the ground as Angelus released her, blowing out a plume of smoke. Looking through his eyes, seeing the sharp new focus of the world, I knew that he had his game-face on. He had gone full vampire.

"I feel just fine," he said. And you should thank me, Angel. For setting you free. He thought out loud to me as he strode purposefully into the shadows, already making plans to create mercy and mayhem in his new town.

Angelus had finally come to Sunnydale.