Title: Monster
Author: BlueLight
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Blurb: Spike flees from Buffy but encounters a monster from his past. Pt 2: The Hunt: Spicy, forced, no people, laughing, growling, desperate, smelling the blood and BAD SPIKE! (Later redemption promised)
Acknowledgement: Thanks to LadyStarlight for her advise and editing.
Distribution: Fine, just let me know where.
Reviews, constructive criticism requested.
Feedback: Please. So I learn what works and what doesn't.
*******************************************
The Hunt
Once she was out of the door he stopped counting.
And started looking around the diner. Found a half eaten box of chicken she had evidently brought for lunch. "SPICY!" Oh, nice girl, he thought. Lunch and fun.
He sprang over the counter, carrying the chicken with him. Made fast work of it then threw the box down. He went out on the street, into the dark to listen. He could hear her about four blocks down, running flat out, down the echoing street. He remembered a grocery store, gas station, fast food place not too far from her. That wouldn't do. She was trying to spoil his fun.
He ran like the wind. Like a vampire on the hunt. Came up behind her silently. Turned into an alley and then through a cross alley, leaping over an abandoned sofa, around piles of old tires, past drifts of bottles lining the alley like shiny stones. Then to the next street she would cross. Then flew to the corner and slowed and stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass him. She skidded to a stop then, breathing heavily, both of them exposed by the corner street light, its glow cloned in a dozen puddles. She sprinted across the cracked gray asphalt river, its white lines fading into the worn surface. He moved with her. Staying between her and where she wanted to go. He closed the distance between them, forced her back, herded her into the old industrial park with its decaying buildings, some half fallen down, some structurally sound but locked and dark since before she was born. He drove her back into the dark. Into desolation.
Everything was going so well. The area was ideal. The cluttered alleys. Broken sidewalks. Empty buildings. No people. Perfect place for a hunt. Every place she turned he got in front of her. Grinning. Enjoying the chase. No one to interfere. No place for her to go. No way for her to escape.
He drove her this way and that, rushing at her, then backing off, laughing then growling. Coming up in front of her so suddenly she would crash into him, terrified. Chip wouldn't fire for that. Playing like a cat with a mouse. Letting her see his demon face when she slowed, morphing back to his human one when she started to go frozen with terror. He was in no hurry. Her eyes were wide with fright, the whites visible all around the irises. Blondie looked this way and that, looking for help, looking for some place worth running, some place safe or safer. She collapsed against a light pole, rust running up its dented gray surface like a leafless red vine. He let her rest a minute, alone in the light, while he circled just outside it, keeping to the shadows.
She was winded, panting, whining a little, crying in fear as she hung there, circling the pole to watch him as he circled the light. Her face was red and mottled, snot running from her nose, tears on her cheeks, her mouth open, trying to pull in more air, to catch her breath so she could run again. Desperate for life.
He felt a brief moment of …pity. Pushed it out of his mind. She was his prey. Wouldn't hurt her to run a little. She was lucky he couldn't kill her. Though he knew if he had been on a real hunt he would have done it already. She would have suffered little. Little pain. No more than a moment of fear. He didn't draw his kills out. He wasn't Angel. Or Darla. Or Dru. He ate because his demon demanded it. Not because it gave him any joy. No more than the hunts he had avoided during his life.
Her breathing was less labored now, her heart slower though still racing. She turned and ran down the middle of the street, as though being in the open might keep her safe. He silently ran up behind her and touched her on the shoulder. She screamed, flinched aside and, turning, ran to the left, through the gate of an old chain link fence, rusted and sagging, a swathe of white plastic hanging from it, fluttering in the wind like a ghost.
He trotted behind her, giving her some room, across an old parking lot, gravel, broken concrete, grass or dead weeds growing from every crack, glass shards shinning like wet blood. Stiff brown weeds slashed her legs as she stumbled through them. He could smell blood trailing from the cuts. She reached the fence at the far side of the parking lot. It looked rusty but it was tall and intact with wicked razor wire sagging from its top. Trapped. He could see her desperation increase as he approached her. He let his demon face slide into place and charged.
***************************************************
FeedBack: Reviews or constructive criticism requested. Hell if you hated it and found it unreadable I need to know that too. Or how do I get better.
Author: BlueLight
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
Blurb: Spike flees from Buffy but encounters a monster from his past. Pt 2: The Hunt: Spicy, forced, no people, laughing, growling, desperate, smelling the blood and BAD SPIKE! (Later redemption promised)
Acknowledgement: Thanks to LadyStarlight for her advise and editing.
Distribution: Fine, just let me know where.
Reviews, constructive criticism requested.
Feedback: Please. So I learn what works and what doesn't.
*******************************************
The Hunt
Once she was out of the door he stopped counting.
And started looking around the diner. Found a half eaten box of chicken she had evidently brought for lunch. "SPICY!" Oh, nice girl, he thought. Lunch and fun.
He sprang over the counter, carrying the chicken with him. Made fast work of it then threw the box down. He went out on the street, into the dark to listen. He could hear her about four blocks down, running flat out, down the echoing street. He remembered a grocery store, gas station, fast food place not too far from her. That wouldn't do. She was trying to spoil his fun.
He ran like the wind. Like a vampire on the hunt. Came up behind her silently. Turned into an alley and then through a cross alley, leaping over an abandoned sofa, around piles of old tires, past drifts of bottles lining the alley like shiny stones. Then to the next street she would cross. Then flew to the corner and slowed and stepped out in front of her just as she was about to pass him. She skidded to a stop then, breathing heavily, both of them exposed by the corner street light, its glow cloned in a dozen puddles. She sprinted across the cracked gray asphalt river, its white lines fading into the worn surface. He moved with her. Staying between her and where she wanted to go. He closed the distance between them, forced her back, herded her into the old industrial park with its decaying buildings, some half fallen down, some structurally sound but locked and dark since before she was born. He drove her back into the dark. Into desolation.
Everything was going so well. The area was ideal. The cluttered alleys. Broken sidewalks. Empty buildings. No people. Perfect place for a hunt. Every place she turned he got in front of her. Grinning. Enjoying the chase. No one to interfere. No place for her to go. No way for her to escape.
He drove her this way and that, rushing at her, then backing off, laughing then growling. Coming up in front of her so suddenly she would crash into him, terrified. Chip wouldn't fire for that. Playing like a cat with a mouse. Letting her see his demon face when she slowed, morphing back to his human one when she started to go frozen with terror. He was in no hurry. Her eyes were wide with fright, the whites visible all around the irises. Blondie looked this way and that, looking for help, looking for some place worth running, some place safe or safer. She collapsed against a light pole, rust running up its dented gray surface like a leafless red vine. He let her rest a minute, alone in the light, while he circled just outside it, keeping to the shadows.
She was winded, panting, whining a little, crying in fear as she hung there, circling the pole to watch him as he circled the light. Her face was red and mottled, snot running from her nose, tears on her cheeks, her mouth open, trying to pull in more air, to catch her breath so she could run again. Desperate for life.
He felt a brief moment of …pity. Pushed it out of his mind. She was his prey. Wouldn't hurt her to run a little. She was lucky he couldn't kill her. Though he knew if he had been on a real hunt he would have done it already. She would have suffered little. Little pain. No more than a moment of fear. He didn't draw his kills out. He wasn't Angel. Or Darla. Or Dru. He ate because his demon demanded it. Not because it gave him any joy. No more than the hunts he had avoided during his life.
Her breathing was less labored now, her heart slower though still racing. She turned and ran down the middle of the street, as though being in the open might keep her safe. He silently ran up behind her and touched her on the shoulder. She screamed, flinched aside and, turning, ran to the left, through the gate of an old chain link fence, rusted and sagging, a swathe of white plastic hanging from it, fluttering in the wind like a ghost.
He trotted behind her, giving her some room, across an old parking lot, gravel, broken concrete, grass or dead weeds growing from every crack, glass shards shinning like wet blood. Stiff brown weeds slashed her legs as she stumbled through them. He could smell blood trailing from the cuts. She reached the fence at the far side of the parking lot. It looked rusty but it was tall and intact with wicked razor wire sagging from its top. Trapped. He could see her desperation increase as he approached her. He let his demon face slide into place and charged.
***************************************************
FeedBack: Reviews or constructive criticism requested. Hell if you hated it and found it unreadable I need to know that too. Or how do I get better.