A/N: Sorry it took so long to update. As Im writing this, Im also writing another story, which I'll hope you'll all enjoy. So, I'll be bouncing from this story, to the other. :) Oh, and I didn't want to get into detail with the death, because I love the characters so dearly, but I promise, there will be more description later on.

"You don't know me anymore, Wills."

"Buffy, I know you're the same inside, don't do this.."

"Do what? Have fun?"

Buffy looked around and smirked, slightly baring her fangs. Scarily, it reminded Willow of one person;

Angelus.

"Buffy..how did this happen? Who did this?"

It seemed as if that hit her hard. A low growl came from deep in her throat, advancing slowly on Willow.

"Why don't you take a guess. Who wanted me all for himself, for so long?"

"...Spike.."

"Kee-rect! How'd ya guess?"

Buffy licked her fangs and inhaled deeply, loving the smell of Willows fear. Willow hadn't realized that Buffy had died, and invited her back into the house.

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Buffy sauntered up to her house, ready to do whatever it took to bring as much pain and heartache to her so-called 'friends' as they brought to her when she was taken from heaven. But then again, after this night, heaven wouldn't mean a thing to the late Buffy Summers.

Once she reached the front door, she gave it two knocks, remembering the discussion her human self had with the ones who lived in the house with her.

"If either of us forget our keys or for some reason cant get into the house, knock twice and wait. That way, we'll know its one of us and we wont have to as 'Who is it?'. Okay, girls?"

Buffy, Dawn, Willow, and Tara all nodded, agreeing.

Buffy never forgot.

Knocking twice, as she remembered, she heard a shout, spouting 'Come on in! Its open!'. With a smart ass smirk, she opened the door and walked in, loving how easy that seemed to be.

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"Buffy, please. This isn't what you want."

"What do you know what I want?! You know nothing!"

Again, Willow had hit a sore spot. All of her friends thought that they knew what Buffy wanted, what Buffy needed. They knew nothing in her eyes, and they would all finally find that out.

"Buffy, you're my best friend. Please...I can give you back your soul!"

"No! I don't need one. We've already got Angel–..."

That was it. Her ingenious plan came to her at the moment, because of her own words. Once she was done with and in Sunnyhell, she'd go to Los Angeles, and wreak havoc there also.

Evil was a beautiful gift the good got.

"Im done talking. Its time for the big finale."

And before Willow knew it, she was flat on her back.

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When Willow woke up, she knew she wasn't at home, and she knew she wherever she was, the one who kidnaped her, didn't realize she was awake. Her eyes watched, intently, the scene before her. Buffy was flat on her back, grunting as Spike hovered above her; his pelvis slapping painfully against hers. For some reason she was being submissive; Willow only assumed she had to be submissive because Spike had sired her, and not the other way around. It was obvious, to both Spike and Willow, that Buffy wasn't enjoying the intercourse she was receiving. It was also obvious, that for that particular reason, Spike was making it as painful as possible for Buffy. Willow felt for her friend, even though, she was dead and tried to kill her. In Willows eyes, she was still her best friend.

Her Buffy.

Once Spike climaxed, inside of her, Buffys eyes moved over to Willow, seeing that she was awake. Moving her eyes back down, Buffy, just then, had realized that she had her hands curled up into fists. When she released her hands, she bled from her palms, but didn't care. Spike finally realized also that Willow was awake. His head turned to her and a smirk crossed over his features. She knew it was her death wish; waking up.

It would all be over soon.

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Willows lifeless body laid against the wall, waited to be tossed away. Buffy sat there and stared at the body, pleased with herself. The small redhead had gone through so much, and by her best friends hands.

Buffy did everything. Spike just watched.

She made Willow scream out in pleasure and pain; confusing the girl of her friends intentions. That was until she finally gave in and drained her of whatever blood she had left in her petite body.

Buffy looked over and admired the handy work she did on Xander, Giles, and Dawn. They were the ones that mattered, and they were the ones that paid.

It turned out that the basement of Spikes crypt proved to be a very roomy torture chamber. All her friends were down there, each of them tortured differently, but all dead.

She stood from her crouching position, and looked around for Spike.

He was asleep on the floor; naked.

She grimaced, looking away. She hated what he made her. She hated what she was. She would make him pay. Better yet.

She would make Angelus do it for her.

Walking up to the top floor of the crypt, she searched around for his car keys, which she found non too easily. Snatching them from his discarded pants pocket, she ran out the crypt and got in his car, heading for Los Angeles.