Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait. I just wanted everything to
perfect.
***********************************************************************
Chapter Two: Blow Hope to Terror
***********************************************************************
"What if a keen of a lean wind flays
screaming hills with sleet and snow:
strangles valleys by ropes of a thing
and stifles forests in white ago?
Blow hope to terror; blow seeing to blind
(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)
—whose hearts are mountains, roots are tree,
it's they shall cry hello to the spring..."
-E. E. Cummings
His skin was still twitching. The last trial had left him emotionally
shattered. Patience my ass. It was more like a full on mind fuck.
Good thing this one was easier.
He lost himself in combat, pounding out his fury and fear into the flesh of
the demon twins, searing his pain into their bones. And repaid in full,
branding him as well, marking him with their fists and horns. This is what
he was good at, this was what he was born to too.
'Born to slash....and bash....and bleed....like beautiful poetry....'
He howled in defiance, ripping the head off first one, then the other
demon. Easy as pie. Bastards hadn't been much of a challenge. He wondered
if this consituted a rest period.
He kicked one of the heads toward the center of the cave, spitting out a
mouthful of blood, before following with the other.
"Right then. That was a bloody doddle and a piece o'piss..." He dropped
the head and sank to his knees. He was exhausted, bleeding and bruised, but
he wasn't going to give up.
"Got any more ruddy tests, ya ponce? I'll take anything you throw at me.
If it'll get me what I need to take care of the Slayer, give her what's
coming to her.....you just bring it on.
Bring on the whole...."
He trailed off. The floor of the cave seemed to move, undulating in a
shiny black wave that rushed toward him. More mind fucking, was it? He
tensed, straightening up....
The wave suddenly came into focus, and it wasn't a wave at all. Thousands
of little black shapes, all bunched together and pushing toward him.
"Bloody hell..." he whispered, not knowing what part of what trial this
would be, but fleeing in abject terror wouldn't pass him, would it? Let the
bastard do what he will.
He twitched as the first beetle touched him, crawling up his torn pant leg,
hundreds of its brethren following, swarming up his body en masse, flowing
over him. He jerked his head back, trying to keep them off his face, but
they seemed to know that was where he did not want them.
He was covered before a second had passed. They nipped at his wounds,
trying to dig under his flesh, tiny legs crawling under his pants, through
the tear, rooting through his hair. He began to get dizzy, the sensation
like drowning, only not in water, but in FUCKING BUGS, as one paused at his
nose, before pushing its way in, tearing the soft flesh...
He choked, his eyes flashing open, staring at the cave ceiling in the
flickering light. He slammed them shut again when a beetle nipped at his
eyelash. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't even twitch,
and there were beetles crawling around INSIDE him....
He wasn't aware he had passed out. His first thought upon waking was 'Oh
God, I failed...', but failing couldn't hurt this much, could it? His entire
body burned, marking the path the beetles had trod. His next realization was
that they were still inside him, biting away, pulling at vulnerable flesh.
He had the overwhelming urge to rip his own skin off and dig them out one by
one.
Feeling like some strange junkie, he found his way back to his knees,
trembling, fingers twitching to dig into his own skin, gagging at the
feeling of foreign bodies moving around within his own.
"You have passed the third and fourth trials, vampire."
He forced himself to look up, and responded through clenched teeth.
"Yeah? Gonna do anything about this nasty side effect?"
"In due time. I am here to make you an offer, now."
Spike blinked. An offer?
A rumbling chuckle rolled from the shadows.
"You can choose to continue, and gain what you seek. Or we can reward you
from this point. We will remove your handicap, and the love for the woman
in question."
Suddenly, Spike saw two paths stretched out before him.
One, blood flowed like wine, the world trembled at the sound of his name,
death, carnage....
The other, showed him a lonely man, sitting alone, screaming his sorrow to
the sky....
"What?" He gasped, confused. "You can't make me choose that."
"We can. And we will. Choose, vampire."
The beetles paused in their morbid explorations; the whole world, it seemed,
held its breath.
He gritted his teeth, nearly weeping for joy at the sudden stop to the
squirming inside him.
"Give me...what I need...Gotta be what she deserves..."
"So you choose to continue?"
"Bloody right I do, you stupid..." His voice trailed off, into a biting
scream, as the beetles went into a frenzy, desperate to escape the confines
of his body.
They ripped out of him, swarming back into the darkness, leaving bloody
trails in the sand.
He coughed as the last one crawled from between his lips, falling backward
onto the cave floor, the high ceiling spinning with pain. Blackness
consumed him, and the world faded once again....
'Shhh.....It's alright.' A soft hand, tending wounds. 'You're doing it.
You're almost there.'
So achingly familar, that touch. The same touch that had cleansed the stab wound
and set his bones after the long fall from the tower....
"Tara? Am I dead?"
'Not yet....'
The world came back into focus. His eyes fluttered open, the shadow
passing over him in the flickering torchlight.
"You have endured the required trials."
He licked his lips, tasting his own blood. Could he even speak...?
"Bloody right I have..."
Seems he could. Not going to do this stretched out like a corpse. The
victory of raising an arm elated him, followed by an ever greater one of
pushing himself to his knees, swaying slightly, but damned if he didn't stay
upright. He coughed, and spoke again.
"So, give me what I want. Make me what I was..." he drew a cleansing
breath. "...so Buffy can get what she deserves."
The demon shifted again, moving closer.
"Very well."
Its over. Bloody. Over. Finally.
"We will return your soul..."
The demon's hand reaches out, pressed against his chest, and...
Fire. Burning, screaming, living through his veins. The bastard's double
crossed me! He's burning me alive....
His head fell back and he screamed, light filling his eyes, burning his
vision, melting his bones, and oh god, the pain was too much, he wasn't
going to survive this...
But then, he'd been dead for awhile, hadn't he?
The crushing sensation, the feeling of something being poured into a space
that didn't fit it, and suddenly his own skin was too tight, and he couldn't
see for all the brightness....
And the world came crashing back with the scent of charred flesh and dead
blood. He fell back with a thump, boneless, staring up at nothing. Nausea
twisted in his gut. Oh the pain....
Funny, he still wanted to dig through his own flesh, though the beetles
were long gone.
I'm fine, he thought, fine. It's nothing. Just a soul.
He rolled over onto his side, vomiting up what was left of the meal he'd
had back in Sunnydale, and passed out for the third time.
perfect.
***********************************************************************
Chapter Two: Blow Hope to Terror
***********************************************************************
"What if a keen of a lean wind flays
screaming hills with sleet and snow:
strangles valleys by ropes of a thing
and stifles forests in white ago?
Blow hope to terror; blow seeing to blind
(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)
—whose hearts are mountains, roots are tree,
it's they shall cry hello to the spring..."
-E. E. Cummings
His skin was still twitching. The last trial had left him emotionally
shattered. Patience my ass. It was more like a full on mind fuck.
Good thing this one was easier.
He lost himself in combat, pounding out his fury and fear into the flesh of
the demon twins, searing his pain into their bones. And repaid in full,
branding him as well, marking him with their fists and horns. This is what
he was good at, this was what he was born to too.
'Born to slash....and bash....and bleed....like beautiful poetry....'
He howled in defiance, ripping the head off first one, then the other
demon. Easy as pie. Bastards hadn't been much of a challenge. He wondered
if this consituted a rest period.
He kicked one of the heads toward the center of the cave, spitting out a
mouthful of blood, before following with the other.
"Right then. That was a bloody doddle and a piece o'piss..." He dropped
the head and sank to his knees. He was exhausted, bleeding and bruised, but
he wasn't going to give up.
"Got any more ruddy tests, ya ponce? I'll take anything you throw at me.
If it'll get me what I need to take care of the Slayer, give her what's
coming to her.....you just bring it on.
Bring on the whole...."
He trailed off. The floor of the cave seemed to move, undulating in a
shiny black wave that rushed toward him. More mind fucking, was it? He
tensed, straightening up....
The wave suddenly came into focus, and it wasn't a wave at all. Thousands
of little black shapes, all bunched together and pushing toward him.
"Bloody hell..." he whispered, not knowing what part of what trial this
would be, but fleeing in abject terror wouldn't pass him, would it? Let the
bastard do what he will.
He twitched as the first beetle touched him, crawling up his torn pant leg,
hundreds of its brethren following, swarming up his body en masse, flowing
over him. He jerked his head back, trying to keep them off his face, but
they seemed to know that was where he did not want them.
He was covered before a second had passed. They nipped at his wounds,
trying to dig under his flesh, tiny legs crawling under his pants, through
the tear, rooting through his hair. He began to get dizzy, the sensation
like drowning, only not in water, but in FUCKING BUGS, as one paused at his
nose, before pushing its way in, tearing the soft flesh...
He choked, his eyes flashing open, staring at the cave ceiling in the
flickering light. He slammed them shut again when a beetle nipped at his
eyelash. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't even twitch,
and there were beetles crawling around INSIDE him....
He wasn't aware he had passed out. His first thought upon waking was 'Oh
God, I failed...', but failing couldn't hurt this much, could it? His entire
body burned, marking the path the beetles had trod. His next realization was
that they were still inside him, biting away, pulling at vulnerable flesh.
He had the overwhelming urge to rip his own skin off and dig them out one by
one.
Feeling like some strange junkie, he found his way back to his knees,
trembling, fingers twitching to dig into his own skin, gagging at the
feeling of foreign bodies moving around within his own.
"You have passed the third and fourth trials, vampire."
He forced himself to look up, and responded through clenched teeth.
"Yeah? Gonna do anything about this nasty side effect?"
"In due time. I am here to make you an offer, now."
Spike blinked. An offer?
A rumbling chuckle rolled from the shadows.
"You can choose to continue, and gain what you seek. Or we can reward you
from this point. We will remove your handicap, and the love for the woman
in question."
Suddenly, Spike saw two paths stretched out before him.
One, blood flowed like wine, the world trembled at the sound of his name,
death, carnage....
The other, showed him a lonely man, sitting alone, screaming his sorrow to
the sky....
"What?" He gasped, confused. "You can't make me choose that."
"We can. And we will. Choose, vampire."
The beetles paused in their morbid explorations; the whole world, it seemed,
held its breath.
He gritted his teeth, nearly weeping for joy at the sudden stop to the
squirming inside him.
"Give me...what I need...Gotta be what she deserves..."
"So you choose to continue?"
"Bloody right I do, you stupid..." His voice trailed off, into a biting
scream, as the beetles went into a frenzy, desperate to escape the confines
of his body.
They ripped out of him, swarming back into the darkness, leaving bloody
trails in the sand.
He coughed as the last one crawled from between his lips, falling backward
onto the cave floor, the high ceiling spinning with pain. Blackness
consumed him, and the world faded once again....
'Shhh.....It's alright.' A soft hand, tending wounds. 'You're doing it.
You're almost there.'
So achingly familar, that touch. The same touch that had cleansed the stab wound
and set his bones after the long fall from the tower....
"Tara? Am I dead?"
'Not yet....'
The world came back into focus. His eyes fluttered open, the shadow
passing over him in the flickering torchlight.
"You have endured the required trials."
He licked his lips, tasting his own blood. Could he even speak...?
"Bloody right I have..."
Seems he could. Not going to do this stretched out like a corpse. The
victory of raising an arm elated him, followed by an ever greater one of
pushing himself to his knees, swaying slightly, but damned if he didn't stay
upright. He coughed, and spoke again.
"So, give me what I want. Make me what I was..." he drew a cleansing
breath. "...so Buffy can get what she deserves."
The demon shifted again, moving closer.
"Very well."
Its over. Bloody. Over. Finally.
"We will return your soul..."
The demon's hand reaches out, pressed against his chest, and...
Fire. Burning, screaming, living through his veins. The bastard's double
crossed me! He's burning me alive....
His head fell back and he screamed, light filling his eyes, burning his
vision, melting his bones, and oh god, the pain was too much, he wasn't
going to survive this...
But then, he'd been dead for awhile, hadn't he?
The crushing sensation, the feeling of something being poured into a space
that didn't fit it, and suddenly his own skin was too tight, and he couldn't
see for all the brightness....
And the world came crashing back with the scent of charred flesh and dead
blood. He fell back with a thump, boneless, staring up at nothing. Nausea
twisted in his gut. Oh the pain....
Funny, he still wanted to dig through his own flesh, though the beetles
were long gone.
I'm fine, he thought, fine. It's nothing. Just a soul.
He rolled over onto his side, vomiting up what was left of the meal he'd
had back in Sunnydale, and passed out for the third time.