Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters… it's all so sad. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own it all.
A Dish Best Served Cold
The spell was wearing off and his first awareness was of the smells.
Smoke. Herbs. Unwashed bodies.
Sounds were next; unfamiliar voices… low and speaking a language other than his own.
Romanian.
Angelus opened his eyes and knew he was in a Romany camp. And that he was in very deep trouble.
"Filthy gypsies. " he hissed as he struggled to sit up. The ropes that bound him shouldn't have been any trouble but the effects of whatever spell they had used to bind him were still lingering. He set to shifting and pulling, trying to work his hands free, all the while glaring at those nearest him.
"Turn me loose and I'll kill you quickly." He growled.
"You waste your voice on us, Beast." An old man sitting by the fire said. His speech was thickly accented and soft. "You will remain as you are until we are finished." He stood and slowly walked to where Angelus was sitting.
The vampire frowned as he was forced to look up at the old man. "You think so do you? Well then, let's get on with it. You haven't staked me yet so what's it to be? Torture?"
The old man nodded. "Yes. Torture. You will know true torture and torment."
Angelus grinned. He could feel his bonds loosing. It was only a matter of time.
"I already know all about it." He told the man standing before him. "I doubt there's much you could show me that I'm not already a master of."
A crowd was growing around them. Behind the throng he spied a wagon. In the back was something covered with a cloak. He laughed as he realized what it must be.
"You could ask your girl there about that. Of course she's probably not much of a talker just now. She was a pretty good screamer though."
The old man's face blanched white and his mouth tightened. "You will pay for what you have done!" he said. He turned and said a few words in Romanian. The crowd broke up and an ancient looking woman approached. She regarded Angelus with cold eyes.
"Omul nu trãieste sã mãnânce, ci mãnâncã sã trãiascã." She said softly. "Eat to live, not live to eat. The vampire does not understand this."
For a moment Angelus simply stared at her. Then he threw back his head and howled his laughter.
"Is that ALL you think I did to her?" He let out another peal of ugly sound. "You think I killed her for food?" Clearing his throat, Angelus lowered his voice slightly. "I'll let you in on a secret: I wasn't even hungry."
His laughter began again and only increased when the old man swore and spat at him.
The bonds were very loose now and he felt his strength returning.
The old crone nodded. "Yes, I know. As I said."
She turned to the man. "You are sure this is what you wish to do?"
He nodded. "Yes. He will know what torment truly is for what he has done to my family."
The crone sighed. Reaching inside the bag at her side, she withdrew an orb.
Angelus fidgeted, working the last loop around his wrists free. He eyed the orb warily as it began to glow.
"What…?" he said.
The old woman was chanting. The low rhythm of her words struck a chord of fear inside him.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
The old man smiled grimly. "Torment and torture, Beast. You think you know but you do not. Not yet. But soon."
Angelus struggled desperately. The bonds finally gave and his arms were free. He stumbled to his feet.
The orb was glowing fiercely, a small sun in the darkness.
The light enveloped him and he sank to his knees.
For a moment, there was only confusion.
"What…?" he whispered, staring at the people in front of him. "What… did you do?"
The old woman put the orb back in her bag.
"Your punishment, vampire. You did evil without care, without remorse. Now remorse is all that you have. You have now come down to where your victims are."
Angelus stared at her uncomprehendingly. "I don't understand."
"A soul. You have a human soul. eºti ceea ce mãnânci." She told him, eyes still cold.
"Now, you are what you eat."