"I am not here,
I think I've never been here at all,
Or ever will be.
I feel like a place where no one goes anymore." - Stabbing Westward, Why

Xander blinked and looked around him. He was back in the nightmarish landscape his mind had been during the agony of the curse. He turned again, and saw he wasn't alone here. Willow stood nearby also surprised by her surroundings.
"Willow? Is that you?" He stepped toward her.
"Of course, it's me. I'm the one dreaming here. You're the mental figment."
"Um, Will, _I'm_ doing the dreaming here. I've been here before."
"Wait a second, are we dreaming of each other? Xander, this is incredible! Do you have any idea how rare shared dreams occur? And with both of us lucid no less! I've read about this in the newsgroup I belong to." Willow's eyes were bright with excitement at the possibility before them. She walked towards him.
Then, Xander sensed _it_. His dark self, just under the surface where they were standing. He shouted to her, "Willow, don't step any closer! Get back while you can!"
"Xander, what?" she said as she took one step forward, and then shrieked. A pale, skeletal hand broke through the surface, and grabbed her left ankle. "Aaaagh! Get off of me!" she yelled as she tried to kick her foot free. She finally did, a hard kick that broke the hand at the wrist, the bits of bones connected there clattering on the hard, parched ground. She ran towards Xander, and stopped as she came up against a forcefield. She was only a few feet away from Xander, but it may as well been miles.
"Willow! No!" He rushed against the forcefield, ramming his shoulder against it, trying to break it. She tried the same from her end, but to no avail. Then, he heard it. That awful laughter. The ground behind Willow exploded, knocking her off her feet, and showering her with large clods of earth. He screamed her name, but she didn't seem to hear. From the gaping hole, emerged a corpse. It looked like Xander, if Xander had been buried for a century. Most of the flesh had rotted away, leaving gaping holes where worms had fed. Some were still running over the bones. The head was semi-intact, though only half the face remained, and that was green and pulsing with disgusting ooze. The vile thing was missing a hand, its right. It stuck its arm out toward the nearby missing appendage, and it flew up to meet the connecting limb. As the hand reattached, Xander noticed the figure was slowly re-growing flesh over its body. He fought a wave of nausea mixed with revulsion at the repulsive sight before him. Soon enough, it became the same figure that had imprisoned him before.
He smiled, and it was the smile of the devil before it would rip your soul from your body. " 'Hello me, meet the real me.' Missed me?"
Xander snorted, "You haven't been away long enough. Come back, oh say around the third millennium, and then we'll talk."
His other self sauntered toward him, a walk Xander realized, was eerily reminiscent of Angelus' evil, self-assured swagger, "Well, somebody's attitude's improved. Good, glad you're on the high horse. It'll be more fun knocking you off." He stopped in front of the forcefield, "Aww, poor baby, can't come out and play. And I've got quite a toy here." He grinned wolfishly at Willow, "She can be my new Barbie doll. Shall we do what we did to her old one?" He chuckled harshly as he went to her.
"Leave her alone!" Xander snarled. His other self turned toward him, and nodded approvingly.
"Well, well. Your real self emerges. I told you, we're alike. Come on, work with me. It'll be fun. Remember that vamp Willow? Oh man, what I wouldn't give for a piece of that ass! Mmm! Oh well, this one will have to do." He walked toward her, and lifted her up by grabbing her auburn hair.
"Let her go, or I will destroy you!" Xander growled again.
"Good boy, come on, get that rage going. I knew you had it in ya, boy! Haha!" He then turned to Willow, "Wakey, wakey princess." Her eyes slowly opened, and gasped in terror at the sight of this perverted version of her boyfriend, "Ol' Prince Charming here got a present for you." He pulled out the dagger, _the_ dagger, the Dagger of Malechior. He waved it in front of her terrified eyes.
Xander saw this with shock and horror written all over his face. He then proceeded to ram against the forcefield repeatedly, trying to force his way in.
His other self glanced back at him for a moment, "Ah-ah. You have say to pwetty please with sugar on top before I'll let you in." He wagged his finger tauntingly at him, still entwined in her hair.
While he was distracted, Willow saw her chance. Her hand shot out and grabbed his hand that held the dagger, and one swift move, drove it into his leg.
He screamed in pain, letting her go for an instance. She ran off, away from him, but also away from where Xander was by the forcefield.
"You little bitch!" his dark self snarled at her as he tore the sculpted hilt out of his leg, and he threw the dagger at her. With wicked accuracy, it plunged into her back. The reverse side of where exactly Xander had been stabbed. She turned back to Xander, surprised at what happened, and screaming in pain. She then slowly crumpled to the ground, her blood spilling out, eagerly being sucked in by the arid soil.