Spike: Prologue
Spike Voiceover
Bloody hell. I can't believe her. Buffy actually thinks I died for her! Her! The
worthless little Slayer. Pfft. She thought she was so, so special. The Slayer standing in
front of all these Potentials sayin' all this bollocks about war and how we were going to
win. Foolish, that's what she was—is. She was so bloody ignorant. She didn't know what
side she was on. But in the end she was right. We did win. She saw the world in blacks--
being evil—and whites—being what they called "good. She was wrong. The First was a
mix of blacks and whites; a sort of dark gray, charcoalish color.
I had once been in the sea of white hats. That was before his—Angel's, that is—
horrible, horrific stench entered my nose, interrupting the wonderful aroma of Buffy's
perfume. No I have to stop thinking of her as mine. She belongs now to that terrible
goody-goody Angel. Then, as Buffy dropped that amulet into my hands, I was the only one
who recognized it for what it really was: The Amulet of Rasen. It had belonged to Rasen,
a 17th century sorcerer who was sired by none other than the infamous Henrich Joseph
Nest, a.k.a The Master, whom Buffy had slain seven long years ago. After being sired,
Rasen hid from what he was, killing only old people who would've died anyway, though
their blood always tasted like rotten apples. It is said to have taken Rasen six month to
assemble the amulet, doing all the work including acting as a blacksmith: sculpturing it
into the shape of an elaborate diamond, carving intricate details, then putting spells on it.
The spells were all what the daft people and demons who called themselves "heroes"
would call black magic. The legend goes that the amulet gives misconception to those
who wear it. But if the person or creature was a vampire who had ceased sucking blood,
the amulet gave misconception to everyone around him or her. The amulet also made the
wearer somehow or another die a supposedly heroic death, only to come back to the
mortal plane, if in a demon infested location. I say the Hellmouth bloody well qualified.
I used that to my advantage. I wore the amulet to the Grand Re-Opening of the
Hellmouth, as I had come to call it in my mind. I was the only one who noticed the flaw in
Buffy's plan to save the world. Willow would be able to pull the whole bollocks-filled idea off.
Y'know, making every girl who might have the power of the bloody Slayer have it? But there
would be consequences. Bad for her, good for me. That whole thing with Tara and Willow and
the oh-so-bloody annoying Troika would be repeated again, minus what's-his-name, Warren,
and Jonathan and Tara. Willow would go evil again, wrecking havoc on Andrew and his limited
edition Boba Fett figure that lost value when the bloody bloke took it out of the package. Even I
unfortunately know that.
I was the only one who sensed Willow's eyes go black and her veins shoot out of her
face. Not to mention her hair going from the infamous red that earned her the nickname,
courtesy of yours truly, Red, from an awesome seductive black. She would help me, I knew.
But first I had to undergo dying, coming back, and getting my solidness.
Then I saw his face. Angel. One with the Angelic Face. Angelus. I tried to fight him, but
I realized I was not solid. Fred went on for a few weeks trying to make me solid again. She tried
because she liked me. Well I resented her. Finally, I said the hell with this. I went to the nearest
payphone and called Red, or Black now. I guess I can't help calling people nicknames. I rarely
called Buffy by her born name, most of the time going with Slayer. And that friend of hers, what
was his name, now, Alex? Alexander? Xander? Xander! That's it! Anyway, most of the time I
ignored the bloody idiot.
This is where my story starts, I guess…
End Spike Voiceover