Prologue
Subsistence is all that has been; all that will flourish and subside in the layers of memoirs infecting his psyche consistently. These so called recollections of the past screening prolifically upon the backs of his eyelids in illumination of shadow and hue; shades anecdotal. Scenes of grotesque horror and gore lingering around him, cursing him for all he has done-and all he will do.
So now as he rest inertly against the scape of a battered mattress, sheets discolored and blemished with signs of past use, use he really didn't want to go into detail about. His throat revolted and strained while tears ran swift from his jaded sockets-another night he was left disturbed, always woken up by the resonance of his own rasp screams filling the air around him. He would never be in solitaire, because she refuses to let him crawl into a hole and waste away. She wanted payback.
One lie. That's all it took to obliterate two years of friendship and warrant a beating that left him close to being paralyzed for life. One lie.
He shook his head frivolously at the thought as he rose into a sitting position, shaded orbs darkening vaguely as he gazed around the room left in disarray. One more night before he returned back to a place he hasn't seen in years-back to the place where he died and was left an emotionless shell, hollow within. He was so not looking forward to what he had to do.
He had kept in contact with Giles in the midst of his absent-the only one who believed he did the right thing and stood by his side while the others scampered off and hid behind the sanctimonious slayer, believing everything she said without even giving him a chance to defend his actions. Not that he had too. His actions were unmistakably right and conscious and he would not express regret for them. Never. So with little keeping him tied to Sunnydale, he left. Told no-one but Giles where he could be reached and just left-doubt anyone really cared anyway.
But after receiving a call from Giles that everyone was in peril and his assist was needed indefinitely-He was on his way back. Outside the town limits actually, not able to enter just yet. He needed one more night. One more night to gather himself before going back to face them all-to face her.
And all the while he listened to the namelessly voices in his head that were telling him this will only end horrifically.
Subsistence is all that has been; all that will flourish and subside in the layers of memoirs infecting his psyche consistently. These so called recollections of the past screening prolifically upon the backs of his eyelids in illumination of shadow and hue; shades anecdotal. Scenes of grotesque horror and gore lingering around him, cursing him for all he has done-and all he will do.
So now as he rest inertly against the scape of a battered mattress, sheets discolored and blemished with signs of past use, use he really didn't want to go into detail about. His throat revolted and strained while tears ran swift from his jaded sockets-another night he was left disturbed, always woken up by the resonance of his own rasp screams filling the air around him. He would never be in solitaire, because she refuses to let him crawl into a hole and waste away. She wanted payback.
One lie. That's all it took to obliterate two years of friendship and warrant a beating that left him close to being paralyzed for life. One lie.
He shook his head frivolously at the thought as he rose into a sitting position, shaded orbs darkening vaguely as he gazed around the room left in disarray. One more night before he returned back to a place he hasn't seen in years-back to the place where he died and was left an emotionless shell, hollow within. He was so not looking forward to what he had to do.
He had kept in contact with Giles in the midst of his absent-the only one who believed he did the right thing and stood by his side while the others scampered off and hid behind the sanctimonious slayer, believing everything she said without even giving him a chance to defend his actions. Not that he had too. His actions were unmistakably right and conscious and he would not express regret for them. Never. So with little keeping him tied to Sunnydale, he left. Told no-one but Giles where he could be reached and just left-doubt anyone really cared anyway.
But after receiving a call from Giles that everyone was in peril and his assist was needed indefinitely-He was on his way back. Outside the town limits actually, not able to enter just yet. He needed one more night. One more night to gather himself before going back to face them all-to face her.
And all the while he listened to the namelessly voices in his head that were telling him this will only end horrifically.