Author's Notes: Takes place immediately after Becoming Part II, although AU. Seasons Three through Seven never happened. I decided to write this just in time for Halloween. As for how many chapters this story will be written for, it will probably be lengthy. Sorry that it's so short. Next chapter will be longer. Happy Halloween!
Prologue.
Darkness and fire encased his surroundings. The heat was so torturous that countless blisters were developing on his cold skin, even though it had never occurred in the 242 years of his existence. He spent countless years trapped, imprisoned in the harshness of this dimension, his wrists and ankles bound and chained by the rattling of cast iron, but even in his vampiric state he had never gotten used to the inhuman temperature. It was Hell itself, and he had finally believed the descriptions of what it was supposed to be like.
Demons arrived, and they left, and they beckon to him, but his only response was utter ignorance to those that didn't matter the least. Any salvation that remained left in his body was kept in the deepest recess of his mind. His Slayer. But along with that came disappointment that she had not attempted to rescue him. When the feeling became much too strong for him to hold back, he growled, enough to startle those that passed by.
With disappointment itself came the unending fear. He was aware of what was transpiring. It was why he was here, he discovered not long ago. He knew what was happening to him although he loathe it. His soul, inch by inch, was disappearing. He could feel the power of Angelus residing beside him, attempting to take over. He felt the hollowness engulfing him, reaching into his unbeaten heart.
Each day it was a battle to keep the goodness of him above the surface, but those days were now far and in between. It was a struggle to remind himself of the good he had done, more importantly, the love that he still had for his beloved.
These days, it was coming to a point where he was close to stop caring all together. And then, the pain formed, etched in his stomach, reaching to his upper chest. He was coming. And there was nothing that Angel could do. It was out of his hands.
The Slayer line, and his love, were now in danger of extinction. All in the hands of the one with the Angelic Face.
Himself.
