THE DESTROYER'S JUDGMENT

The warm stench of death wafted across his face as his eyes lifted slowly open. Huge sweat covered hands gripped around his abdomen, almost cutting off his air. Like a boa constrictor. The space before him was blurry, but he saw the eyes. Red, peering at him, unblinking.

He coughed, feeling dizzy.

"Angel!" Spike called.

He was backed up against the Gothaim, plastered against it, just out of the wing radius of the thing that had Angel in the air.

"You have been here before," it growled, its eyes narrowing as its lips peeled backwards into a disgusting leer.

"Spike..." he whispered, but it sounded more like a wheeze.

Couldn't get enough air into his lungs. Not with his abdomen crushed between the thing's fingers. Couldn't breathe...

The beast's index finger pressed against his forehead, and Angel shut his eyes. Waiting for his fate. He remembered this... He remembered this with such haunting clarity that he started to shiver.

YOU ARE NOTHING.

A claw raked down his cheek, biting into the skin like acid as it left a streak of new blood behind it, but he was running out. He wouldn't bleed much longer... The dizzy, mushy peace that was descending over him like a warm, fleecy blanket told him at least that much.

YOU ARE NO ONE.

But suddenly, he was sent tumbling to the ground. Like a broken toy. Tossed out. No good. He gasped as waterfalls of blackness cascaded before him, and not the blackness of the landscape, either. The scent of brimstone wafted into his nostrils. The evil, rotting stench of death. Fire.

YOU ARE NOTHING.

The large creature let out a wail, a terrible, screeching wail that grated over his ears like nails on a chalkboard. Harpy. Piercing.

YOU ARE NO ONE.

Collapsing into the sooty, craggy earth, he clasped his hands weakly over his ears, but his one arm was too messed up. He couldn't get a good grip. Couldn't even flex his hand. He felt his innards roll, threatening to spill out in a heaving torrent of vomit.

YOU ARE NOTHING.

Wind swam across his face as the creature's flapping wings beat harder. He could hear the thump, thump, thump, as they reached their apexes and fell once again. Black. Rotting feathers fell to the ground in a torrent of sooty snowflakes.

"YOU ARE PURE! YOU CANNOT BE HERE..." It boomed.

The air rattled around him with vibration, practically sending him into convulsions. His chest felt like it was turning to goo. It felt somebody had turned on an industrial-sized subwoofer and left it at max volume.

"WHAT POWER HAS SENT YOU HERE?"

Angel coughed, stumbled onto all fours. "We fell..." He coughed again.

"WHAT POWER?" It demanded.

"None..." Spike said, practically spitting with vehemence.

Angel was relieved that Spike answered for him, because he didn't think that he could muster the strength to speak anymore. Wheezing and choking in the growing oppressiveness of the atmosphere, he collapsed back to the ground. The blood loss was finally getting to him. The world began to blot in front of him. He blinked, noticing for the first time that his damaged arm was still weeping copious amounts of blood. Drops of the sticky, coagulating fluid fell to the blackened earth like rain.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The creature growled again in frustration, and Angel rocked under the force of it. Earthquake. "YOU HAVE BEEN PURIFIED."

This was a good thing, Angel took it, because the dark, hulking beast looked rather unhappy. The leer was gone. It stood, arms outstretched as a white glow began to develop at its fingertips, wings spread outwards in the flaring light like Phoenix rising.

Angel blinked and started to shake as the earth began to rumble. A huge golden portal spiraled outwards into the black air, tendrils of light clawing apart into the brimstone atmosphere like spider webbing.

"Spike..." he called, trying to stumble to his feet. The first few attempts nearly sent him sprawling again, but he managed to wobble into an upright position. Spike leapt forwards from the obelisk, the fear in his eyes completely undisguised as it dripped unbidden like tears.

The creature laughed and slapped the blond vampire back into the Gothaim. "THIS ONE IS NOT PURE. HE STAYS."

"No," Angel whispered, grunting as tears of pain came to his eyes.

"I RELEASE YOU FROM THE ABYSS. I CANNOT KEEP A PURE ONE."

He felt the air around him tingle and morph, and bubble. "NO!" he screamed hoarsely, launching forward like a cheetah, desperation driving him where strength could not. He was dematerializing. He hurt. All he had to do was let go... Be released. The portal was sucking him in.

He resisted, moving towards his childe with heaving, shaky, faltering steps.

Spike, seeing Angel's intention, leapt atop the back of the creature, gripping at the charred hollow between the massive black wings. The creature spun around, pivoting on a clawed foot. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Flames spewed from its gnarled hands and smote Spike to the ground, who rolled, flailing, to put the licks of fire out before they incinerated him. Angel kept running, gaining an inch or so at a time against the terrible force pulling at him, pulling him back toward the glowing portal.

"Will, grab my hand!" he called, wheezed, barely.

But Spike heard it.

The big demon stepped on Spike's legs, claws sinking into his calves like knives, but Spike still reached out, muscles shaking and straining as he tried to give himself more length. "Sire..."

Their fingers brushed.

But that was all.

Spike reached back and clawed at the foot that held him down, snarled, let his demon forth. Bit at it wildly. The creature roared in pain and lifted his foot reflexively as Spike came back with blood oozing and black from his lips. Bony, molted wings swung around like wrecking balls. Spike ducked, barely in time as he tripped and scrambled forward like a gecko across the torrid rocks.

The beast clawed Spike's back and dragged him backwards, scraping against the flesh with an audible tearing sound. Spike wailed, but, with shaking muscles, he launched out again, ripping himself from the demon's claws, leaving strips of his skin behind.

He stumbled forward.

The beast belatedly grabbed his foot, but it was too late.

Screaming. The beast was screaming.

Angel felt Spike's frantic hand clasp his, and then he succumbed to the whiplash as it pulled him backward into a bath of white light.