Title: Formatia Trans Sicere Educatorum
Author: iridescentZEN
Rated: Mature (dark!fic)
My Pairing: Willow/Angelus
My prompt: What if nobody had been around to save Willow when Angelus had her in the hallway?
Note: My whichwillow livejournal community fic. Dark fic, character death and a lot of it.
It was Angelus' lucky night. Willow was alone in the hallway when he cut the lights. The teenage girl reeked of anger, sadness and resentment. In other words, she smelled like any other teenage girl. Though Willow's wounds were fresh, the salt of her tears still lingered in the air. It was like she was an eight ball for a vampire without that pesky risk of overdose.
Buffy's cute little best friend. Unassuming, painfully awkward barely-there at all Willow. How would she taste? Like vanilla, bland, and forgettable? Or would she be spicy and powerful causing him to wash her down with another human just to take the edge off? "Willow," the trick was in the normalcy of his tone. Her name was a statement and not a greeting, which was usually how Angel addressed her.
They were never really friends. Or Angel wasn't really friends with her. Surprise, surprise. The soul was boring and afraid of intimacy. Angelus smiled wolfishly in the dark hallway. Guess the idiot had good reason. One little trip to paradise and it was back to Hell for soul boy.
"Thank God you're okay. Did you see Buffy?" There was genuine concern in Willow's voice.
"Yeah. What's up with the lights?" Angelus knew that he was at least partially shielded by the darkness and that Willow couldn't see his true face. Not with human eye sight. When she didn't reply, he tried a different tactic, "Willow, come here. I've got something to show you."
Willow came forward like a cobra dancing for a snake charmer. "What is it, Angel?"
"It's amazing," he continued, selling the lie like a pro.
Willow was adorable. Like a baby chick. So fluffy, and innocent one day, chicken salad the next. She was wearing a blue sweater, a short skirt with black nylons and tennis shoes. Angelus hoped that she wouldn't be wearing any of those for long. What terrible apparel to die in.
Blindly, she walked to him. Angelus felt like she was taking her sweet ass time to get there. So, he finally walked forward in full game face, showing her the yellow eyes of the demon. That strange morph of the beast and the ridges on his forehead that told a tale of vampire evolution.
"Angel!" Willow's heart started to pump like she was running a marathon, reminding Angelus that he was starving.
Before she could utter another protest, before another squeak escaped her soft lips, he covered her mouth with his hand stifling the noise and he brought his mouth to her neck and tapped a vein. It was so sad having to muffle a scream. Screams needed to get out, needed to warn that the shell was in danger, needed to excite evil beings into a murderous frenzy.
When he finally broke free of her neck and raised his head to look at her face, he realized he very nearly suffocated her to death. It wasn't his intention to accidentally kill her. Removing his hand, he watched intensely as the mottled red of her skin around her mouth went pale like the rest of her.
"How did you ... " she trailed off, leaving her question hanging.
What a rude, inconsiderate dying girl.
Fortunately, Angelus knew what she was going to ask. "Formatia trans sicere educatorum."
The pipes ran freely then, big fat globules of salt that could lie as much as his face. He licked the tears from her cheeks, enjoying the way they tasted mixed with her blood. Taking a step back, but still keeping his hold on her, he admired his handiwork. Her limpid green eyes shining bright with a glaze of pain.
Oh, he couldn't. He wanted to. But he couldn't. Not there. It wouldn't be right to get murdered in a hallway. It would lack artistic flair, take away from the vision that he wanted to perfect for Buffy and her soldier lapdogs. They needed to know who they were messing with.
Jenny was the first to fall victim to Willow's willing fangs. Ironically enough, in the hallway of the high school. It was okay though. It was Willow's art, a rough sketch. Angelus watched like a proud papa as Willow drank her fill, not allowing escape as Ms. Calendar jerked against the iron arms that held her.
Angelus faked tears, wiping at his eye and said, "You never forget your first."
Jenny's dead-weight thudded boneless to the linoleum floor. Willow seemed rather dismayed by the fact that the woman was no longer moving or well, breathing.
"What's the matter? Got a little humanity still lingering inside?" Angelus leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.
"No," she snapped. "I was just wondering who was going to teach her class."
"Stop thinking. Just act."
The intelligence that beamed from her eyes while she was alive had been replaced with a calculating malevolence that Angelus wasn't expecting. The intelligence was still there, and she had so much to learn, but she was a promising, eager pupil.
Exhaling slowly, he reached into his pocket. "Oh, one more thing."
The orb of thesela was nothing but a paper weight now. Angelus let it drop, listening to the shatter like it was music to his ears.
"Let's go." It wasn't a suggestion. It was time to go back to hot wheels, and the crazy one. It was never a good idea to leave those two alone for long.
They left Jenny Calendar in a puddle of her own blood. There was a crucifix that had done little other than hurt their eyes two feet away from her.
Willow threw a rose on top of the teacher's corpse. Angelus made certain that she signed it first.
To Giles, Love Willow.
Xander was a little more complicated. Now that what was left of the Scoobies knew that Willow was dead. She rose for the ashes like a dark goddess, all innocence left at a crime scene that would never be discovered or processed.
Xander made it too easy.
They were outside of his house.
"Xaaander," Willow sang, "come out, come out where ever you are."
Angelus admired her lithe form while she taunted the meal that was once her best friend. She was wearing a black fitted v-neck tank top, a pair of boot cut jeans with a pair of boots that she had stolen from her last meal. Turning her ended up being a wonderful idea. Of course, Angelus would rather see her in leather, but Spike's influence was strong.
To their surprise, Xander simply walked out the front door of his house.
Willow hugged him. Even more surprising. Xander hugged her back, his eyes screwing shut tightly with emotion.
"I'm gonna kill you, Xan."
Xander took a deep breath. "I know."
Willow pushed him away. "Don't you want to try and kill me first?" The question was asked with girlish innocence. "I can just turn to dust. Poof. Problem solved."
Angelus growled. "Enough with the conversation, Willow. Kill him and let's go."
"If my world's going to end," Xander's expression was solemn, brown eyes fixed on hers, "there's no where else I'd rather be than with you."
Xander's body was left outside the Summers' front door. Just for kicks, Angelus rang the door bell, and he and Willow headed back for the factory before it was opened, and their present revealed.
They were lucky enough to still be in range to hear the anguished cry of the slayer.
Ha. Special delivery, bitch.
Giles was better. The watcher put up a worthy fight that had Angelus' face burning for hours as the bone and skin regenerated after being burned with a flask full of holy water. Willow hadn't made out any better. She got a stake to the ribcage. Only a fraction of an inch kept her from being turned into a pile of dust.
The slayer would get concerned eventually, and make her way to his home to find Giles just as empty as Xander was. Torn throat, blood, all the same old goodies.
Angelus was sure that this would break her. That finally, he would be able to take her down, and get revenge for the bad taste in his mouth that was Buffy's lingering kiss. Angel's humanity was a stain, and Angelus didn't like stains.
Oh, finally Buffy Summers had snapped. They seemed unable to find Joyce Summers, but they located Buffy at the Sunnydale Nuthouse. Welcome to crazy, Buffy. Population: you.
The trail of corpses led all the way to room 302. Interns, doctors, maintenance. All staff and roaming patients were corn husked. The shell taken and discarded for the sustenance inside.
Buffy's eyes widened marginally when she saw them standing in front of her door. If she was scared, she didn't voice it. Of course, judging by the odor emanating from her she was drowning in lithium, and pretty content to die that way.
"A crazy slayer. I love those," Angelus confided to Willow, who stared at her former friend with curiosity.
"Where's your perk, Buff?"
At the sound of Willow's voice, Buffy closed her eyes tightly.
"It's not a bad dream. I'm really here." Willow made her way to Buffy, eying the tubes and wires that were running through her friend.
"Will," Buffy spoke hoarsely, her throat sore from disuse. "I'm ... I'm sorry."
Willow stared into Buffy's hazel eyes with her own. "Aw," she chided, "don't be sorry. This is great. You know, when Angelus got me it was because I was in a public school. My love for learning actually got me killed. Well, that and you." With a cool gaze, Willow watched as Buffy's eyes filled with tears. "Formatia trans sicere educatorum, Buffy."
"She's a great student," Angelus told his enemy, this teenage girl with more power than anyone should have. Willow was a great student. "There was so much untapped knowledge about the demon world." His mouth turned up in a smirk. "Of course you know our Willow. She was just ... dying to learn."
They stood across from one another, each on one side of the slayer's bed. She was weakened by her stay at mixed nuts farm, and she was easily overcome. They both drank freely; her blood was an elixir like no other and the drugs pumping through her only enhanced the flavor. Coppery slayer life-essence swam through their dead systems like high voltage, making every deadened nerve ending alive again.
Angelus broke from the slayer's neck, tearing himself away from her and her blood. "Something is not right." He shook his head as if trying to clear the fog.
"I feel it too." Willow gave Buffy an accusing glare. "What did you do? My tongue is all tingly!"
"I've finished it," Buffy was elated, a dopey smile was plastered across her face.
Willow and Angelus' skin started to itch.
"What did you do?" Angelus demanded to know.
"Killed you, like you killed me," Buffy inhaled with difficulty, everything was a little fuzzy but she needed to see this. "Angel, Willow. I loved you guys. I'm sorry."
As their skin began to flake, Buffy cried, the tears flowing freely. When they finally crumbled to dust, Buffy closed her eyes and rested peacefully.
For eternity.
Dead like them.
Free like them.
End.