Chapter seven
Internal struggles
Left standing behind on the sidewalk as the man drove off, the scent of blood dissipating in the air, Angel finally managed to get the upper hand in his eternal struggle with his demon.
It was not a constant battle, of course. That would have made him insane, and had in fact done so for a while shortly after he'd been cursed with the soul. No, most of the time, the demon was dormant, almost sleeping. Almost, and oh so easy to wake.
Over the years, Angel had learned to recognize the situations that would wake it, and avoid them, or at least be prepared for the struggle to resume when it woke. Unfortunately, he didn't always get an advance warning, and tonight it had gotten a bucket of ice-water in the face, and woke roaring, to find him unprepared. The rich smell of fresh, human blood had hit him straight in the face as he walked with Gunn and Fred, and if the source of it hadn't driven off, the demon might very well have managed to take control long enough to rip his throat out.
Almost dragging his girlfriend behind him as he approached Angel, Gunn was in no mood to wait for an explanation. An explanation that Angel couldn't provide. He needed their trust in order to keep fighting, and revealing his tenuous hold on the demon would erode that trust, maybe even destroy it. And so he concealed his struggle behind an impassive façade as he listened to his friend.
"Ok man, what the hell was that all about? You go chasing after that guy without as much as a word, and now you stand here making like a statue staring after his car. What's he done to make you loose your cool like this?"
"He smelled of blood, Gunn. Human blood and guts. Like he'd taken a bath in somebody's intestines before going for a walk. I wanted...I want to know why."
"And you're sure you're not just confusing that with the latest in after- shave, man? Because I've got to tell you, bathing in intestines, not likely to draw in the ladies, if you get what I mean?"
"It draws them in quite nicely if it's theirs. And no, I'm not mistaken. I know that smell. Trust me."
Both Gunn and Fred flinched briefly, and Angel almost shuddered at his "joke". His sense of humour always deteriorated when the demon was awake. And remembering that the demon spoke from experience really didn't make the comment any more amusing.
"Did you mean draw them in as in..draw them in by.? And is that a very disturbing image, that I really wish I'd not seen? And you know that smell, and you don't know him, so how are we going to find him? Did you get the licence number, because I might be able to track him down by it." Fred had obviously realized what he meant, and was desperate to get away from the subject.
Angel gladly allowed her to do so. "Yes, I got the number. And I really hope you can. So, perhaps we should call off the night out, and get to work on tracking down that guy?"
Nodding their heads, his friends mutely agreed to his suggestion. And during the uncomfortably silent drive back to the Hyperion, Angel brooded as he contemplated his demon and its corrupting touch on his life, even when bound by his soul.
Authors note: Sorry for the short chapter, but finals have caught up with me, as well as a bit of writers-block. Next chapter will hopefully be longer. And please, if you like the story, leave a review.
Left standing behind on the sidewalk as the man drove off, the scent of blood dissipating in the air, Angel finally managed to get the upper hand in his eternal struggle with his demon.
It was not a constant battle, of course. That would have made him insane, and had in fact done so for a while shortly after he'd been cursed with the soul. No, most of the time, the demon was dormant, almost sleeping. Almost, and oh so easy to wake.
Over the years, Angel had learned to recognize the situations that would wake it, and avoid them, or at least be prepared for the struggle to resume when it woke. Unfortunately, he didn't always get an advance warning, and tonight it had gotten a bucket of ice-water in the face, and woke roaring, to find him unprepared. The rich smell of fresh, human blood had hit him straight in the face as he walked with Gunn and Fred, and if the source of it hadn't driven off, the demon might very well have managed to take control long enough to rip his throat out.
Almost dragging his girlfriend behind him as he approached Angel, Gunn was in no mood to wait for an explanation. An explanation that Angel couldn't provide. He needed their trust in order to keep fighting, and revealing his tenuous hold on the demon would erode that trust, maybe even destroy it. And so he concealed his struggle behind an impassive façade as he listened to his friend.
"Ok man, what the hell was that all about? You go chasing after that guy without as much as a word, and now you stand here making like a statue staring after his car. What's he done to make you loose your cool like this?"
"He smelled of blood, Gunn. Human blood and guts. Like he'd taken a bath in somebody's intestines before going for a walk. I wanted...I want to know why."
"And you're sure you're not just confusing that with the latest in after- shave, man? Because I've got to tell you, bathing in intestines, not likely to draw in the ladies, if you get what I mean?"
"It draws them in quite nicely if it's theirs. And no, I'm not mistaken. I know that smell. Trust me."
Both Gunn and Fred flinched briefly, and Angel almost shuddered at his "joke". His sense of humour always deteriorated when the demon was awake. And remembering that the demon spoke from experience really didn't make the comment any more amusing.
"Did you mean draw them in as in..draw them in by.? And is that a very disturbing image, that I really wish I'd not seen? And you know that smell, and you don't know him, so how are we going to find him? Did you get the licence number, because I might be able to track him down by it." Fred had obviously realized what he meant, and was desperate to get away from the subject.
Angel gladly allowed her to do so. "Yes, I got the number. And I really hope you can. So, perhaps we should call off the night out, and get to work on tracking down that guy?"
Nodding their heads, his friends mutely agreed to his suggestion. And during the uncomfortably silent drive back to the Hyperion, Angel brooded as he contemplated his demon and its corrupting touch on his life, even when bound by his soul.
Authors note: Sorry for the short chapter, but finals have caught up with me, as well as a bit of writers-block. Next chapter will hopefully be longer. And please, if you like the story, leave a review.
