summary: you wouldnt believe me if i told you now, what i can tell you is i
will work hard this becaurse i want plent of reviews, buffy will come back
and it wont take me that long to write this, and as for this chapter i want
to give people a taste and tell you that it only introduces spike as how i
think he would be by himself for a hundred years
disclaimer: ill see you in court joss
i would like to know where my writing goes thanks
A CENTURY OF WANT
He slowly walked the streets he had so long defended, watching and waiting for little more than a century, these narrow pathways and side streets all looked different from a different time, they where overgrown with weeds, the streets cracked from the heat of the California sun.
It all looked so strange every time he walked down them, every time he left the house he expected them to half heartedly to be the same, to look the same, but they never did. They had aged, he had aged and so had this cursed town.
No one lived here anymore, no one had lived here for more than a century and in that century he had felt nothing except loneliness and love, now a pathetic love, a love for a girl who had died more than a hundred years ago and had never returned his affection.
His love now ran deep, he had nothing else, nothing but regret, love and a promise, the same promise that kept him here in Sunnydale defending the world from the other big bad's from opening the gateway to hell itself.
In all his years here he must have saved the world a countless amount of times, all of it for her, and for himself, it was that promise that kept him what he was, although it was a hazy definition what he was, his memory, his promise, regret and love gave him clarity and helped him destroy and burn anything and everything that entered this town.
He was its soul inhabitant now, there was no-one left, nothing but him and a ghost town that was riddled with action a hundred years back, and to every turn he took, at every building he looked at memories half as old as himself flooded back, walls no longer looked decayed, dust and sand from the desert disappeared as did all the corpses of various demons that littered the streets, he was a phantom in his own mind, he would look at a room and not see it for what it was now, a shallow decayed and deprived hollow thing but what it was then, when he had things good when there was light in his life. He looked on as events and people long dead took centre stage in his mind, and things unravelled themselves, mistakes, joys and grief all played there part.
He was no longer what he was, but he was sure he was less, a century ago people had called him spike, William the bloody, now no one called him anything.
He was as old as his grandsire was when he had come to this god forsaken place, and he wondered if he felt the same as he did now when he had come, probably not, there was hope in his sires world there was none in his, he was going to hell he new it and he wouldn't delude himself into thinking that there was something better for the likes of himself, and so when the day or night finally comes he would never embrace it, he would fight and claw his way for life no matter how empty he was, he still allowed himself to carry out the one thing that he still and most probably would ever give a shit about, his promise.
Over the years, all those years which seemed like a millennium, all of the scum had crawled out of the wood work, vampires like himself, demons, devils and cults all wanting to open the hell mouth, and each time he had been there, he had been there for her, as he should have been there a century ago.
That night had tortured him, he lived it over and over again, every night in his dreams, how he had protected her sister, how he had defeated that demon and prevented the girl from being cut and saved the day and prevented his love from taking a swan dive from two hundred and fifty feet, and that is how he had saved the world again and again, she would have sacrificed her own life again and again and so would he, her life was worth so much more and so in his mind it was she who stood by him spurring him on to do what was right, just as she did, but it wasn't for her, it was for his promise to her.
But reality came crashing every night, he woke up and he was in the exact same place he had been for a century, living with the consequences of what really had happened that night. He couldn't stop Dawn from being cut, he couldn't prevent that bastard from throwing him of that tower and yet he still had a nagging arduous feeling inside telling himself that he could have stopped her from jumping.
Years had passed and all those faces where long gone, Xander, Giles, Anya, Willow and precious Dawn, all where gone, six feet under, but he was still here. He was the only one left who new of the long battles with the forces of darkness on the hell mouth, even the vampires he once new where gone even Drucila. Angel had even regained his humanity and had aged and died. Out of everyone he was the last to go, and he suspected that he still had a while yet, a very long while.
He had defended this town for a very long time, and he had his scars, a while back his face had been slashed and scared leaving him marked forever, his body had wounds from copious amounts of torture and abuse, yet he still dressed the same with the same long leather jacket he took from the second slayer he had killed, he didn't know why it just felt right, no one had come near him in so long he had no idea of the outside world.
Occasionally though, some came. Come to wake him up from his nightmare as they saw it, some even came to worship him as some sort of vampire messiah, vampires, some young vampires came and told him that they admired him telling him that they thought he was the perfect embodiment of what a vampire should be, recluse, not willing to trust others, and have there own territory that they would defend to the death. These demons that admired him where executed on the spot, this behaviour and willingness to be alone went on for so long, that neither man nor beast dare enter the town, its inhabitant they thought was crazy, insane and definitely not someone to be toiled with or associated.
Only a few new what made him do what he did, some of them thought they could exploit his love, some even brought women who looked almost exactly like buffy, but they weren't, they may have been young and innocent and everything inside him begged to be with them but they weren't Buffy no one was her, no one. Soon the only people who came where the fanatics, the people or demons who's own religion demanded them to open the mouth of hell, and these where the only people our William ever dealt with, for another very long time.
And so he talked to no one and dealt with his pain that was so, ever so bitter sweet.
Demons littered the streets, he had killed hundreds and no longer could be bothered to bury them and so he left them to rot in the streets.
And that is how life had been for spike for a hundred years after Buffy's friends and her sister had left sunnydale, not long after them everyone on Sunnydale had left, either that or they just where swallowed up by the world. And after the last people where gone, no one came into sunnydale and left alive.
He had worked with Buffy's friends all summer, the summer after her passing, they had a robot that looked exactly like they girl his heart died again and again for, he even felt bad looking at the poor thing, the thing that reminded him so much of his one chance for true happiness.
Then the armies of hell had found out, he wasn't exactly sure how but they had, and they came in there gangs, and groups and cults. First it was a motor cycle gang full of world class scum, they had expected to be able to be able to defend the town and the people, but without the slayer it was hopeless they had no way to defend themselves, and it was there, at that moment in time that he knew what his empty fate would be.
He had told Dawn to go and live with Giles in England, he knew watcher boy would look after her like she was his daughter, and with no hell mouth she didn't need much protecting, the others did the same, they all went there separate ways except Willow and Tara who moved to Los Angeles to help angel.
He had wondered why he had not heard from any of them, but he knew they had there own lives, and he had his fate, to deal with the slime of civilisation and to dream of a girl, one beautiful and wonder us girl and wonder for all eternity, what…what could have been
disclaimer: ill see you in court joss
i would like to know where my writing goes thanks
A CENTURY OF WANT
He slowly walked the streets he had so long defended, watching and waiting for little more than a century, these narrow pathways and side streets all looked different from a different time, they where overgrown with weeds, the streets cracked from the heat of the California sun.
It all looked so strange every time he walked down them, every time he left the house he expected them to half heartedly to be the same, to look the same, but they never did. They had aged, he had aged and so had this cursed town.
No one lived here anymore, no one had lived here for more than a century and in that century he had felt nothing except loneliness and love, now a pathetic love, a love for a girl who had died more than a hundred years ago and had never returned his affection.
His love now ran deep, he had nothing else, nothing but regret, love and a promise, the same promise that kept him here in Sunnydale defending the world from the other big bad's from opening the gateway to hell itself.
In all his years here he must have saved the world a countless amount of times, all of it for her, and for himself, it was that promise that kept him what he was, although it was a hazy definition what he was, his memory, his promise, regret and love gave him clarity and helped him destroy and burn anything and everything that entered this town.
He was its soul inhabitant now, there was no-one left, nothing but him and a ghost town that was riddled with action a hundred years back, and to every turn he took, at every building he looked at memories half as old as himself flooded back, walls no longer looked decayed, dust and sand from the desert disappeared as did all the corpses of various demons that littered the streets, he was a phantom in his own mind, he would look at a room and not see it for what it was now, a shallow decayed and deprived hollow thing but what it was then, when he had things good when there was light in his life. He looked on as events and people long dead took centre stage in his mind, and things unravelled themselves, mistakes, joys and grief all played there part.
He was no longer what he was, but he was sure he was less, a century ago people had called him spike, William the bloody, now no one called him anything.
He was as old as his grandsire was when he had come to this god forsaken place, and he wondered if he felt the same as he did now when he had come, probably not, there was hope in his sires world there was none in his, he was going to hell he new it and he wouldn't delude himself into thinking that there was something better for the likes of himself, and so when the day or night finally comes he would never embrace it, he would fight and claw his way for life no matter how empty he was, he still allowed himself to carry out the one thing that he still and most probably would ever give a shit about, his promise.
Over the years, all those years which seemed like a millennium, all of the scum had crawled out of the wood work, vampires like himself, demons, devils and cults all wanting to open the hell mouth, and each time he had been there, he had been there for her, as he should have been there a century ago.
That night had tortured him, he lived it over and over again, every night in his dreams, how he had protected her sister, how he had defeated that demon and prevented the girl from being cut and saved the day and prevented his love from taking a swan dive from two hundred and fifty feet, and that is how he had saved the world again and again, she would have sacrificed her own life again and again and so would he, her life was worth so much more and so in his mind it was she who stood by him spurring him on to do what was right, just as she did, but it wasn't for her, it was for his promise to her.
But reality came crashing every night, he woke up and he was in the exact same place he had been for a century, living with the consequences of what really had happened that night. He couldn't stop Dawn from being cut, he couldn't prevent that bastard from throwing him of that tower and yet he still had a nagging arduous feeling inside telling himself that he could have stopped her from jumping.
Years had passed and all those faces where long gone, Xander, Giles, Anya, Willow and precious Dawn, all where gone, six feet under, but he was still here. He was the only one left who new of the long battles with the forces of darkness on the hell mouth, even the vampires he once new where gone even Drucila. Angel had even regained his humanity and had aged and died. Out of everyone he was the last to go, and he suspected that he still had a while yet, a very long while.
He had defended this town for a very long time, and he had his scars, a while back his face had been slashed and scared leaving him marked forever, his body had wounds from copious amounts of torture and abuse, yet he still dressed the same with the same long leather jacket he took from the second slayer he had killed, he didn't know why it just felt right, no one had come near him in so long he had no idea of the outside world.
Occasionally though, some came. Come to wake him up from his nightmare as they saw it, some even came to worship him as some sort of vampire messiah, vampires, some young vampires came and told him that they admired him telling him that they thought he was the perfect embodiment of what a vampire should be, recluse, not willing to trust others, and have there own territory that they would defend to the death. These demons that admired him where executed on the spot, this behaviour and willingness to be alone went on for so long, that neither man nor beast dare enter the town, its inhabitant they thought was crazy, insane and definitely not someone to be toiled with or associated.
Only a few new what made him do what he did, some of them thought they could exploit his love, some even brought women who looked almost exactly like buffy, but they weren't, they may have been young and innocent and everything inside him begged to be with them but they weren't Buffy no one was her, no one. Soon the only people who came where the fanatics, the people or demons who's own religion demanded them to open the mouth of hell, and these where the only people our William ever dealt with, for another very long time.
And so he talked to no one and dealt with his pain that was so, ever so bitter sweet.
Demons littered the streets, he had killed hundreds and no longer could be bothered to bury them and so he left them to rot in the streets.
And that is how life had been for spike for a hundred years after Buffy's friends and her sister had left sunnydale, not long after them everyone on Sunnydale had left, either that or they just where swallowed up by the world. And after the last people where gone, no one came into sunnydale and left alive.
He had worked with Buffy's friends all summer, the summer after her passing, they had a robot that looked exactly like they girl his heart died again and again for, he even felt bad looking at the poor thing, the thing that reminded him so much of his one chance for true happiness.
Then the armies of hell had found out, he wasn't exactly sure how but they had, and they came in there gangs, and groups and cults. First it was a motor cycle gang full of world class scum, they had expected to be able to be able to defend the town and the people, but without the slayer it was hopeless they had no way to defend themselves, and it was there, at that moment in time that he knew what his empty fate would be.
He had told Dawn to go and live with Giles in England, he knew watcher boy would look after her like she was his daughter, and with no hell mouth she didn't need much protecting, the others did the same, they all went there separate ways except Willow and Tara who moved to Los Angeles to help angel.
He had wondered why he had not heard from any of them, but he knew they had there own lives, and he had his fate, to deal with the slime of civilisation and to dream of a girl, one beautiful and wonder us girl and wonder for all eternity, what…what could have been
