So just to clear things up, Buffy is not coming because she is too involved with the Immortal. More will be explained later, that's all that is important now.
Chapter 16. Part 1.
Spike tensed as Aries approached, twirling a wicked looking knife in his hands, sharp edges glinting in the slight light that peeked through the painted windows.
Preparation for the ritual had begun an hour ago, minions and warlocks parading in with their fancy magical components. He had no idea what this ritual entailed and was becoming increasingly concerned and apprehensive.
"How does it feel, knowing that you are the cause of the end of the world? Does your filthy soul ache just thinking about it?" He trailed the cold tip of the blade down his stomach as he spoke, gazing at the pale pink imprints left on his skin.
Spike felt a surge of rage at his confidence and a trickle of doubt concerning his team. "You won't get away with it. Others are coming, going to kick your ass. And just wait till I get my hands on you, you'll be dust in seconds. There's no way you're gonna win."
He laughed dryly and stopped toying with the knife. "I already have." Aries violently shoved the dagger into Spike's abdomen, grinning gleefully as it lit up, glowing with a red tinted aura.
Spike squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, mentally calling out to Willow, hoping he could use the connection the same way she could. But nothing happened and the drone of the warlocks began, swelling and growing until the walls vibrated with the hum of their voices.
His wound was throbbing with a hot intensity and he felt his energy being drained, like the knife was literally sucking the life out of him.
Just then, as the droning climaxed, the door burst open and the dozen extra minions that were guarding the door charged. But they were flung back, landing in a pile of growling and snarling bodies.
Willow emerged from the door, hand thrust out in front of her, her typically red hair tinted white. She was the essence of power, everything about her demanding respect and fear. Gunn and Wes appeared at her side, equipped with a sword and axe.
Aries hadn't taken his eyes off the circle of warlocks, still droning unfazed. A small red orb of light was starting to form in the middle of the circle, pulsating with power and spreading outwards at an alarming rate.
Gunn and Wes raised their weapons and right away decapitated three vampires before they got to their feet. They beat the rest back, Willow casting holy water into the air, simmering the vamps skin.
She left the men to finish off the remaining ones and scuttled around the edge, laying a book open on the floor and kneeling beside it. Fred followed the same path but skirted around the boxes behind him. She clutched a cross to her chest and nervously glanced about while hastily creeping along.
"Spike, oh my gosh, are you alright?" She eyed the blade impaled in his gut fretfully.
He tried to find the strength to talk, but everything was gone. He could barely keep his eyes open. The warmth that once encompassed the wound now spread through his body, a pleasant numbness he wouldn't mind slipping into.
"Spike? What's wrong, can you talk?"
She moved forward, almost flush against him to look at the cord that binded his hands together. He gathered the strength to talk from the cross that got alarmingly close to his precious region, the tiny amount of leather not able to protect him from the dangerous symbol.
"Fred, Fred dear…the knife, get the knife."
She looked horrified at the thought of having to yank the dreadful thing from him, but complied anyway. He took a breath and tried to stabilize himself. In one quick movement, she yanked the blade out, blood gushed from the wound, but it didn't hurt as he thought it would. His entire body was warm and tingling, enticing him to just close his eyes and leave the horrible place where his sire tried to kill him and the second love of his unlife didn't know he was alive.
Even though the knife was out of his body and lying on the floor, it still smoldered bright red and the portal continued to expand.
He must've spaced out because all of the sudden Fred was standing on a small crate and holding her light jacket to his wound while examining the cord that binded his hands. She frowned and pulled some bolt cutters from the bag she carried with her.
Although she struggled some, she managed to snap the thick metal cord but let him fall to the ground. Spike tried to care that he was lying face down, but couldn't, he also tried to care that Angel was looming behind Fred predatorily.
In a swift dangerous motion, he had her encased in his arms, neck bared to the side. She trembled and fumbled for the cross but it clattered to the floor.
"Angel, Angel please stop. Please, you don't want to do this."
He laughed threateningly, eyes dancing with darkness that captivated Spike. He had never seen this sire. This was a completely different side of him, an uncaring completely callous demon. He watched as Angel ripped into her neck, sucking the life from her while not breaking the stare.
No joy. There was no joy. Angelus loved killing. He loved inflicting pain and would draw it out as long as possible. But this version was just out to hurt, out to hurt anyone without taking any joy. Like he was empty.
Spike growled and surged to his feet, smoothly vaulting over the crate and knocking them both to the ground. Fred rolled to the side, hopefully out of danger.
Inadvertently, his demon had surfaced and now took control, beating the shit out of Angel, who didn't care. He didn't care. Everything that made his sire was gone, leaving nothing but a shell. He could not infuriate him, could not hurt him at all, he was too far gone.
Spike felt sadness tearing at him, that his sire could not hold on to any shred of himself, when he could, even inflicted with his hard earned soul, he had stayed strong enough to survive.
Without realizing it, Spike had lost focus of the battle around him, still pounding Angel's face until a bright golden light shot from Willow into Angel, the extreme force of the magic throwing him yards back from his sire. He landed with a hard thump, jarring his already injured body.
Angel laid still for a few moments; eyes closed and face peaceful like he was sleeping. Spike slowly got to his feet, wincing but ignoring the hot pain, and cautiously approached Angel. He kneeled beside him, afraid to touch him and looked to Willow helplessly, not knowing what was happening to his sire.
She looked drained, trying to recover from the powerful magiks she performed. He knew it must've been hard; the only known way to recover a soul is with the orb of Thesula, which she didn't have. The witch shrugged and held up a finger to indicate she needed a minute to recuperate.
He looked back at Angel, surprised when he was met with deep chocolate eyes.
"Spike? What…" He wiped the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand, confused. He looked over to Fred's motionless body lying on the floor and his eyes grew wide in realization. "I didn't, did I?"
"She'll be fine mate. Now get off your ass, we've got the world to save." He helped Angel to his feet and took him over to Willow.
"Red, you alright?"
She nodded, looking at Angel quizzically. "It worked?"
"Seems so. Good job. Now take of him for me, would ya?"
He took Angel's arm and pulled him closer to Willow before running off to kick Aries' ass. He assumed the bloody portal would stop opening as soon as the damn knife was out of his gut, but that didn't seem to be the case.
He cast a concerned look in the direction of Gunn and Wes, but they seemed to be handling the crowd fine, the numbers already dwindling below seven.
Spike spun the enthralled Aries around, punching him square in the jaw and delivering a tough roundhouse kick that knocked him to the floor. He moved on to the gang of warlocks warily, chanting with their arms in the air and eyes closed.
He wasn't sure what the repercussions of taking them out would be, but right now anything looked better than the destruction of the world.
ooo what's gonna happen? I dunno......