Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Just read it.
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Notes: This is the first in a planned trilogy of song fics. Using Linkin Park's album, Hybrid Theory. This song is Called Crawling. Every fic will have a totally different storyline.
Additional: I've been trying to post the next part of my story Little Rage for weeks now. Doesn't work. And I don't have a clue why. It's possible my computer isn't fast enough to post using the chaptering system. If this gets through, could someone please E-mail me on Scotim@MailandNews.com I'll give you my username and password and then see if you have any luck in posting the next part for me. Thanks.
*********
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
*********
"You're just as bad as them, wrecking everything you come across. Sucking the life out of everyone! You . . . You fucking maggot!! . . . Oh yeah, that's it, try to run. It won't do you any good. I'M COMING!!"
Two figures fly over the landscape, running full tilt. Slowly the back one closes in, then launches itself forward in a controlled dive, they both go tumbling. Before he can recover the chasing one is sitting atop the other one, fist raised high.
"Aaaarrgh". Smack! "Noooo!"
"Booyah!! That's what you get you piece of filth!"
*********
I look down at the glass in front of me, empty, like my life. An omen perhaps? Could this be a sign from the almighty that my time on this earth is limited? I smile slightly, the melancholy of drinking alone. It always brings me thoughts better suited to someone pressing a double-barreled shotgun to their head. Best to concentrate on something tangible.
I signal "Another drink Willy M'lad."
"Look kid," Willy is scratching his head nervously "I don't know whether that's such a good idea, I mean this isn't exactly the place you want to . . ."
I slammed my fist into the bar, hard. Causing a glass to fall off and shatter it's contents to the floor. For a second the whole place stilled. I could feel eyes bore into me from all sides, hatred pounding into me. Like I give a fuck.
"I said," my voice was hard, flat and dangerous, "another drink Willy."
"Okay kid," the oily barkeep said nervously, "I don't want any trouble."
"'Course you don't you fuckin' weasel. Now get me that drink."
Seconds later another Jack Daniel's shaker appeared in front of me, as if by magic.
"On the house." Willy said hurriedly. "Just . . . could you please leave? They know you're face around here, and I don't want any trouble with the Slayer. Imagine me trying to explain to her what you were doing here in the middle of the night, just before you got yourself killed . . ."
Willy trailed off at the glare I leveled dead in his face. It's crawling in my skin, the anger. Fractions of it leeching to the surface. Willy blanched and did the smart thing. After all, common sense is the better part of valor.
"Just leave."
Then he scurried off down the other end of the bar. Serving a misshapen figure in a cape. Another Dracula wannabe, probably scares the shit out of little children, peering through their bedroom windows. Perhaps he is the true anti-Christ making one last stop before raining fire and brimstone down on the world.
But most likely it's a demon. Down on it's luck and retreating to Willy's bar like the rest of these rejects. A real demon has no need to buy their blood, they take what they want. Only the inferior or lazy frequented this establishment.
I turned my gaze to the rest of the room. Red eyes were glowing malevolently from a dimly lit table in the corner. A group of Vampires were glaring at me, game faces in full force, sipping the latest vintage in blood out of a waiting decanter. Three junkies were huddled in the corner. Pale and shaking, sniffing their life up their noses. Their blood too tainted for even a vampire to have a go at killing them.
This place was a trash-heap of the lowest kind.
It felt like . . . home.
*********
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming/Confusing
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling/I can't seem
*********
"What the fuck did you think you were doing!? You'd do this to me!! TO MEEE!! Scum, all of you scum!! Did you think you could rip off my car and live to tell about it? Did you! Huh, DID YOU!!"
He lifts up the man below him by the hair, and looks him dead in the face. A whimpering bundle of humanity, pathetic.
"Please don't"
Thump. Crack! "Hmmmphh!"
"That's it, get down on you're knees you little fucker!"
*********
It's how I feel. I really do belong here. No-one else knows, and they wouldn't understand anyway. The burning rage that I keep inside, bottled up all the time. Hatred, envy, jealousy, lust . . . all built up to create an emotion so intense it doesn't even have a name. It has a personality.
It is me.
Everyone else, they don't have real feelings.
Not to the extent I do. Where I feel as though my insides are going to explode if I don't do something. As it's eating away at me, corroding all I once was. Wanting to bury my hand through the wall, rip, tear, rend everything in sight. It's only with a supreme effort of will, that I can show the face the world still expects to see. The mask I use to cover myself up.
Not the real me, but the facade I've created over the years. So convincing, that everyone thinks it is the real me.
Instead of that monster inside, that I let out only on occasion, for good behavior.
It feels so good to let it out, and that's what I'm going to do tonight.
I turned around in my stool, swiveling so I faced the rest of the bar. Then in a loud voice announced. "Each and every one of you in here, can get down on you're knees, and suck my dick!"
Then I turned back around, made me feel slightly better.
I may belong here with this scum, but that doesn't mean I like them. Quite the opposite in fact. What I just did was mark myself. Make myself a target. Then later on tonight I'm going to leave this place and stumble into an alleyway.
Then anyone who follows me will find out what the real me is all about. They'll think I'm a pushover, get pulled in by my facade the same as everybody else.
Then the killing will start. I can almost taste it already.
Or is that the double shot I just downed? I shrugged, who cares.
There are times I hate what I've become. I'm worse than the monsters out there because I should have free will. There's no demon screaming at me to kill and maim . . . I am the demon.
This lack of self control I fear is never ending. I don't have control, or maybe I do. Is all that's left of me the monster? Has the last of the being I once was been leeched away? I suspect he has.
I miss him sometimes, the being I now call my facade. He used to be me, until I changed.
I miss him sometimes.
*********
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
{Without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take}
I've felt this way before
So insecure
*********
"God! NO Somebody Help MEEE!" The scream echoed out around the empty street.. Sharp and resounding. Terror eating around the edges of it. But no help would come, Sunnydale residents knew better
"Don't do this!"
*********
I've had it! the pressure is too much to take, I'm going to explode! The rage in me has built up to mammoth proportions! I've felt this way before, I'm going to kill something.
I stumble off my stool, very obviously. Staggering toward the exit in the true steps of a drunk. It wasn't that hard to fake. The clientele shifted slightly as I made my way past them, and I knew eyes wouldn't be the only things following me as I left.
In front of me I notice someone entering. She's blond, and very pretty in that vacant sort of way.
A small sneer formed on her face as she saw me approaching.
"Well what have we here, if it isn't . . ."
I cut her words off with my mouth on hers. I'd always wanted to do it, and I've been informed by a reliable source it's the only way to shut her up. I pushed her hard up against the wall, kissing her savagely. Her surprise soon giving way to an equal hunger.
If you've never tried it, vampires are unbelievable kissers. Just how I like it, halfway between pleasure and pain. Her teeth opened up a few small wounds in my mouth, with the intensity of her response. Which was most likely intentional. I did it right back, biting into her lip and drawing blood.
Our tongues danced, and the taste? . . . exquisite.
One of the best things about vampires is they don't have to breathe. But then, neither do I. For years I've practiced, to control my breathing. For he who can control their breathing controls their life. Regulating it, using it as a tool, makes you invincible.
It's my one absolute.
I reached around and grabbed her low, through her jeans. Leaving no mistakes as to what I wanted.
She pulled back, game face in full force, still hot as a demon. A small animal growl escaped her mouth.
"I want you, The bathroom. Now"
I nodded soundlessly and followed her. Watching her tight, jean cladded ass sway enticingly.
Within moments I'd be inside those pants.
*********
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
*********
Blood, flying. Splattering around in a grisly circle. The crowbar raises once again. The sharp aroma of iron filling the air.
"Bleed bitch bleed!!"
Splat.
*********
I emerged from the bathroom, adjusting my clothes. A tiny twinge of guilt assaulting me at having to knock her out. Harmony was good, I'll give her that. She really knew how to use her body to her advantage, but then, most ex-cheerleaders do. They tend to be very . . . flexible.
But I couldn't have her do me like she wanted. Stupid vampire bitches always seem to bite you at the worst possible moment. It can be good under the right circumstances, but not tonight. I have other things to do. I'll look her up later in the week. Definitely want another piece of that.
I can still taste her on my lips . . .
Breathe . . .
Remember
Control.
That's better. Off to my left three vampires are watching me intently. Time to play.
To anyone outside, a dark figure of a man has just staggered out of the bathroom, looking dazed. I clutch at my neck and walk haphazardly out of the bar. The street empty and motionless. Shadows danced their grotesque patterns across the seemy stained sidewalks. Rubbish piled up in black corners.
Talk to myself incomprehensibly, stagger into a side alley and collapse into the shadows. Darkness, my brother, my friend. Sheds it's skin across me, leaving only an indistinct figure, crouched in a nameless gutter. Perfect prey.
Loud footsteps approach, and I smile under my cover. They didn't even bother with stealth, not that it would matter.
"What do we have here!" A sneering voice, "Want me to suck you're dick do you?"
"Already had that taken care of, maybe later."
A solid kick landed in my side, rolling me over onto my back. My hand is in a small puddle, slimy. A piece of wood sticking into me, from underneath. Fuck it hurts! But then, pain comes so often it doesn't even get noticed. Life is pain.
"Think you're funny!?"
I start laughing. Great chuckles, not a real laugh. But dark. There's four of them, better than I could have hoped. Maybe I'll get lucky and they'll kill me.
"Go fuck yourself you dickless moron."
He leaned down and lifted me up by the lapels of my jacket. Pulling me face to face with his sickly yellow eyes and feral snarl.
"Hummmaaannn!" his voice was throaty with rage. "I'm going to kill you!"
I rocked back and brought my elbow down savagely on his arm.
Crack!
It folded at right angles, gleaming white bone open to the night air. I spun, bringing my hand up under his chin and crushing his throat. Then floated to his side, and wrenched him down backward. His spine hitting my knee and folding. He lay there for a moment, suspended like a sacrificial victim, open the world. Then I rolled his broken form off.
Depositing it among the garbage.
"It's on"
The other vampires were recovering from the stunning suddenness of my attack. Starting toward me in anger. I rose smoothly and held my hands in front of me in supplication. Inviting the gods to witness my twisted offering.
There would soon be plenty more where that was coming from.
Death had come.
. . . and it was good.
*********
Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting/Reacting
Against my will I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting/How I can't seem
*********
Druscilla closed her eyes, picturing the visions sent to her all night even more clearly. The form on the ground has stopped moving long ago. Blood stained the street, and the figure stood still, blood stained crowbar held out to one side. Face in shadow.
Then he raised his head, a maniacal grin plastered to his face. Druscilla gasped in wonderment, and her eyes snapped open, glittering in excitement.
"Kitten."
*********
Yes! It was so good.
I let the post fight exhilaration flow through me. I felt sated. Even more satisfying than the release I got with Harmony earlier. That had been purely physical, this was more a cleansing of my very soul . . . If I still have one.
The hatred had retreated for the time being, to be filled with a pleasant emptiness.
There it is.
I see it in a reflective piece of silver.
He haunts me, against my will I stand beside my own reflection. His dark eyes look back at me. It's no more than a memory of time. His mouth is opening and closing, 'don't do this,' he screams 'there's still time to change'
But he's wrong. There isn't.
So I turn my back and walk away, it's so easy. Because now all he is, is little more than a memory.
My body is a little battered, the vampires put up a really good fight. To anyone else my injuries might seem like a big deal. Not to me though. My whole childhood has been filled with beatings that make this pale by comparison. I mean hell, nothing is even broken. Like a little tick I completely dismiss the pain from my mind. Breathing steadily.
Control.
I smiled, that was better.
Then I looked down at the sleeve of my jacket with a frown. One of those bastards had cut through the material with a knife. On closer inspection I realized the whole bloody sleeve was practically ruined. Not only by the slashes, but by the blood soaking through from the matching slashes in my arm.
I swore vehemently. Blood really ruins leather, stiffens it up something fierce.
A small sound caught my attention and I looked up sharply. Finally tracing the source to deep shadows near the side of the alley. It wasn't until I neared the source that I realized what it was.
"What a surprise!" I announced with a smile "I forgot all about you in the commotion."
The first vampire I engaged was lying there, a broken body. Eyes rolling up in delerious pain. But this brought up a problem, what was I to do with him? Hatred had leeched out for the moment, and I felt nothing other than a sense of vague animosity. I knelt down next to him.
"Boy I really did a number on you didn't I?" He was lying there like a vegetable, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Oh yeah, the throat, forgot I did the throat. Even with vampire healing I doubt you'll ever talk again . . . or walk for that matter, I pulverized you're spine."
I took one look at the arm I'd broken and winced. "God I know what that feels like. Happened to me enough times." It was a mess, not only had the bone broken, but the tendons and muscles had ripped like string.
"That arms going to have to go as well."
I thought for a second.
"You know I can't, in all good conscience, leave you in this condition. That would be inhuman." Deep in my mind I found this statement kind of funny. "but unfortunately I've lost my only stake, and I don't have vampire eyesight to find it in this darkness. What should I do?"
He moved a little and choked once again. His eyelids were fluttering loosely, and pain had turned his features into a cry for help of any kind.
"I guess there's only one thing I can do."
In front of me I held up the pocket knife that cut up my jacket so effectively. He saw it and what little sanity he had pushing against the pain made his eyes shiver uncontrollably. I raised the small pocket knife.
"Sorry."
Then I brought it down. Didn't cut through his neck straight away, it was pretty blunt. So I tried again . . . and again. Eventually it got so that I had to use the point. Hacking away at the hard bits that refused to give under the slightly blunt blade. Then all it took was a hard yank of his hair, and with a sharp 'crack' the last connecting bit's broke.
Dust scattered in the wind.
"There" I smiled at a job well done.
And it occurred to me that I am one sick individual.
*********
To find myself again
My walls are closing in
{without a sense of confidence I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take}
I've felt this way before
So insecure
*********
" . . . so pretty . . ."
A voice drifted to me on the breeze and I scanned the shadows, an edge to my breathing. A shiver made it's way up my spine. It's the presence of true evil. A darkness so stagnant it eclipses even mine.
I'm not so far gone that I can't sense it.
But I have been balancing on the edge, wondering whether to kill it . . . or embrace it. Both ways mean changes in my lifestyle, although nothing can now change my nature.
"Do I know you?"
I know the nature.
She steps out of the shadows, a goddess in making. And I realize this is the turning point I've been waiting for, for quite some time. The decision I make here will reflect what happens, do I go forward, or stall. In ways I'm happy as I am, but the longings always there.
She circles me slowly, taking in the sights.
"All tonight I've been getting a smell of utmost evil." Her dress is floating upward against pale thighs. "Imagine my surprise when the face that haunts my dreams, haunts my sight. Floats around my head."
She's waving her hands in mesmerizing patterns about her body.
"I see an iron pipe rising and falling. Blood flowing everywhere, delicious anger. And the words 'bleed bitch bleed, bleed bitch bleed!, Bleeed!! Fountaining in my brain." Her words hitched a little, "It's exciting" she circles me a little more, stopping behind me and moaning into my air. "I've got an itch."
I've never wanted anything more in my life than her.
It flashes, the first human I ever killed. The iron pipe. Raising it, blood. Yelling out "Bleed bitch, bleed!!"
She knows.
I turn around and look into her dark eyes. The lips pouting. I put a hand on each side of her waist, keeping her just out of reach. Underneath this dress is all that I ever wanted.
The dark hair, a small swell of a breast pushing against the satiny fabric.
Druscilla leans in and licks my neck, drawing a shiver of response from me.
"Are you mine?"
My hand reaches under her dress and her eyes widen a little. She's so fragile and dark, I ache for her.
"Are you mine?"
Her body presses against mine, soft and willowy.
"Are you mine?"
Her little breathy whisper brings the only response out of me.
"Yes, Always"
Druscilla smiles, so lovingly, so paternally. Then her lips lower to my neck and she bites. It hurts so much, that it's the best feeling I've had in my life. One of my hands clutches her head tighter to me. The other is buried under her dress, in that secret alcove. Playing with what will soon be mine and mine alone.
This is heaven.
*********
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
*********
I look down at the naked form pressed to my side.
I love her.
Her head is laying on my shoulder, asleep for the moment. We are one, her and me. One mind, one soul. My blood is travelling through her veins, warming her. I want to bite her, have her. She is always so beautiful, I don't know which face I like on Druscilla, her vampire face is perfect.
When we're joined it's like nothing I ever felt before.
Without even asking I knew she wouldn't take too much blood. The bite just brought us closer.
She'll turn me if I ask her.
And I'll do anything if she asks me.
The holes in my neck are proof of all we're going to be together. With her help I've let go of the last of what I was. I don't need it anymore. There will be no pretense, I'll never leave Druscilla's side again.
Even the shadow of humanity has gone.
Xander Harris is no more.
All that's left is me.
And I'm happy like I've never been.
*********
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing . . . confusing what is real
There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming
Confusing what is real
This lack of self control I fear is never ending
Controlling
Confusing what is real