Karma

12/7/00

The demon Angelus was ancient and had seen much of existence both in Hell and on Earth. It’d never known a love so hopeless, never seen an attachment so completely futile as this one it now contemplated. Suicide was a pointless exercise for a creature who is partly of the spiritual plane, or Angelus might have considered it the appropriate solution to the problem that faced the hapless lover in this case.

A thousand years and more had Angelus wreaked horror and misery upon human beings, though only for the short span of a one hundred and fifty-odd years under that name. It’d nurtured a thousand fatal loves, dozens of intense passions that bred disasters like offspring. It had itself succumbed not at all to love. Like a purveyor of finely addictive substances, it knew its well-being rested in not partaking of its own wares. And Angelus’ specialty was the hopeless love that led the lover to damnation.

The possession of the empty body of young Liam had given it a wonderful tool for its games. Handsome, brilliant, strong Liam drew in men and women alike to utterly useless devotion. How Angelus had revelled in the unconditional acceptance Liam’s face had given him amongst adoring worshippers! Combined with Angelus’ vast knowledge of the human personality and mind, hundreds had been lured to the doom of not merely their bodies, but their souls. Spike and Drusilla especially it considered triumphs, as both remained infatuated even as demons once their souls had been destroyed. Perhaps it was the influence of the flesh, perhaps simply Angelus’ great will, but Angelus suspected that the demon inhabiting William’s old shell still harbored a forbidden love of its Sire.

Angelus hadn’t known Liam’s soul until the gypsy curse brought him back to the body he had vacated even as Angelus had entered it. Liam’s mind and body had been interesting enough. Certainly they’d been useful in mastering the society it entered then as a smooth and lovely monster. One hundred and fifty years later had seen the moment when Angelus, a master demon of Hell and ancient foe to Humankind was made subject to a mere human soul. How it had hated him! It had railed against Liam, inundating him with the horrors perpetrated in his body, showing him intricate logistical reasons why all these atrocities belonged upon his head, his own responsibility.

Unfortunately, guilt had merely resulted in Liam keeping Angelus as well as himself crawling through alleyways and hiding in shadows feeding on vermin for a full century. Pure torture for Angelus, who adored elegance and indulged a very particular palate. Liam turned out to be an extraordinary soul, one that burned with a fire of righteousness that terrified and blinded Angelus. The rage that had built in the demon at such subjugation and captivity had been of volcanic proportions. Once freed, only the destruction of the world could have mitigated its anger.

It had, frankly, gone a bit insane. A strange comfort filled Angelus at the thought. Insanity was an explanation for the current state of affairs that weighed so heavily upon it. For Angel, as Liam rather infuriatingly called himself, was back. Back in control, and… back with Angelus. Insanity must be the explanation, because… Angelus was glad. Glad he had returned, glad the world hadn’t ended, and glad to be with him.

Angelus had done the one most inexcusably hopeless thing it could possibly do.

Angelus had fallen in love.

~