For someone who had once been the most feared vampire in all of Europe
Angelus showed a distinct lack of common sense, in my opinion. It was probably
his artistic personality; everything had to be a drama for the new Master of
the Hellmouth. He was far too obsessed with tormenting Spike, not that watching
the souled vampire try to protect his little concubine didn’t have its own
intrinsic entertainment value. By all accounts the irksome faux blond and the
irritating former construction worker had been like oil and water before
Angelus killed the Slayer, though I never had the opportunity to witness it
myself. I left Sunnydale behind long before Spike became a permanent member of
the Slayer’s inner circle.
Ordering his grandchilde to violently claim one of the
Slayer’s oldest comrade’s in arms was amusing, watching the actual event in a
room full of bloodthirsty demons, even more so. The scent of the Scooby’s fear
was intoxicating. Lord knows, even when I was human there were days I wanted
the little pillock put in his place. It was also plain that it was devastating
to Soulboy, which was something I was certainly always willing to endorse.
Their suffering was as delicious as any blood I’ve tasted. Leaving them alive
after the fact however, just wasn’t a sound strategic decision.
Though I must admit I did enjoy watching Spike carry out
Harris like some swooning maiden. It still was not worth the risk, which I made
clear to my Sire, despite the thrashing I knew it would earn me. It seems that,
even then, I wasn’t so different from my human self after all.
While keeping the girl did provide some extra measure of
control over Drusilla’s childe, the fact was that William the Bloody was and
always will be unpredictable. It’s his nature. It unfortunately made
anticipating his next move problematic, if not nearly impossible. For every
given situation there are ten different ways in which Spike might respond and
generally at least seven of those make no earthly sense. His newly acquired
soul did not appear to have changed that one bit. I must say in his defense
though, it’s no so much that Spike’s actions didn’t make any sense it’s, that
frankly, they most often only made sense to him.
There are of course some hard and fast rules when dealing
with Spike. The first of which being that he would do anything for his loved
ones. You only have to look at his century long relationship with Drusilla to
corroborate that statement. In the case of Buffy Summers it meant protecting
her younger sister with a single minded devotion rarely seen in any creature,
let alone a vampire. This dedication apparently did not end with the Chosen
One’s death, but became ever more potent. After both of the deaths William the
Bloody had borne witness to, actually. This meant of course that Spike would
never stop trying to find a way to free himself and
the girl, which in my estimation made him very dangerous.
Spike is above all ruled by his emotions, though the trait
does seem to have calmed imperceptibly with the addition of his soul. Sire
doesn’t see it; the blond vampire is as always belligerent and disrespectful
toward him. He still sees him has the wild fledge he tried to shape in his own
image. He clearly believes that his grandchilde only obeys out of fear, for the
Scoobies sakes. He’s of course correct in part, but if one watches Spike
unobserved you come to see that a great deal of his behavior is an act, a
persona that William the Bloody has been cloaking himself with for years.
He is for one, far better educated than I had previously
expected. He’s also a keen observer of human and demonic behavior. He uses
those skills to manipulate situations to his advantage and the loud-mouthed
undead punk rocker guise to keep others from realizing that he’s doing so. He
lulls his adversaries into thinking that he’s not a threat. He’s quite the
little manipulator.
It was probably fortunate for all concerned that there is
one part of the Spike façade that was not contrived; the vampire has the attention
span of a gnat. If he could have held his focus on any given thing for more
than five minutes he would have been a much more effective adversary for Angel
and Buffy. If not for all of his uncontainable energy, the irritating demon
would probably have taken over the world or at the very least the Hellmouth by
now.
As much has Spike’s concentration can be described as
fleeting, he is also obsessive in his own way. Despite multiple failures he
will keep going until his goals were met. His short term plans might often fall
through, but the shorter vampire is probably the most tenacious individual that
I’ve ever encountered. This was why I so adamantly advocated dusting him. The
last thing anyone needs is an erratic enemy that doesn’t know how to give up.
Now The Council’s actions I could easily anticipate five
moves ahead. Steeped in their centuries of traditions, they where as they
always had been highly predictable. It’s why they’d never understood Buffy
Summers effectiveness as a Slayer. Even though I was once trapped by the same
rigid thinking, I could see how useful the Scoobies had been. After all the
proof was in the pudding as it were, Buffy had lived an absurdly long time for
a slayer. Of course, in there lies part of the problem, the Watchers’ Council
has always found 16 year old girls so easy to control. Conveniently after a
slayer passes, a brand new super powered little girl pops up to replace her.
That is until my dear Faith showed up. How unfortunate that
the slayer line seemed to run through the dark slayer and not Buffy Summers.
After Buffy sacrificed herself for her sister, no new chosen one was called. It
must have sent the old boys into a right dither. The slayer controlling the
line of succession safely locked away in a Californian maximum security prison
for the next 25 years or so, quite stubbornly refusing to bow to any of their
pathetic attempts to eliminate her. She never said anything to Angel on his
many visits, as far as I know, but as I said they are infinitely predictable.
At any rate, seeing as no new slayer was forthcoming,
Travers and his sycophants had been forced to concede that they would have to
rely on the Summers girl. How surprised they must have
been to realize that the little girl they expected to so easily regain control
of was now a head strong woman. I almost wish I had been there to see her
demand Giles’ back pay.
With no new slayer at their disposal I had no fear of those
fools. I knew it would take them the better part of the next decade to argue
changing their methods, much less mounting an attack against us. Seeing how
effective the Slayer’s bunch had been they could have worked on replicating the
feat. Trained witches and half demons to form ready made ‘Scooby’ units for
future slayers. But this of course will never happen, there are years of
tradition to uphold after all. Not an original thinker in the lot, except one.
Sadly, he was the one that worried me.
If we’d dusted Spike and killed Xander and Dawn as I
suggested, I’m fairly confident that the wretched man would have happily stayed
in England doing whatever it is he does there. Possibly drinking himself into oblivion, maybe returning to the Council’s
embrace in an effort to annoy Travers to death, either option would have suited
me just fine. Keeping them alive gave him hope, some tiny part of his precious
Slayer that he could get back. It would eventually bring his focus unto us.
Rupert Giles is enough of a self involved prick that I was
sure we had some time before he removed his head from his own arse and stopped mourning his precious Slayer. Eventually
though, he would remember his captured friends and make some sort of ridiculous
attempt to rescue them.
What worried me was that Spike knew this as well. Rupert has
none of Spike’s problems holding his focus and is an excellent strategist. Even
though the two of them loathed each other, in this endeavor I knew they would
cooperate. They would do whatever needed to be done to save the girl. Giles was
eminently suited to doing whatever needed to be done.
Such a fuss being made over one teenage girl, not even a
slayer at that. Looking at her just after Angelus had taken her on; I couldn’t
see anything really spectacular. She was tall and thin, not the petite sort of
woman that my Sire normally seems to be drawn to. Her features, in particular
her mouth, seemed altogether too large for her face. She wasn’t unattractive
though. She had really quite lovely big blue eyes. Tall and reed like she
reminded me a bit of my darling Fred, though even at that age it was plain to
see that Dawn had been blessed with larger tits.
Of course there was also her youth and innocence. Angelus
did so enjoy corrupting purity, making a mockery of it in fact. He kept the
girl dressed up like an indecent school girl for months. In addition to all of
that, of course, was the fact that she was Buffy’s sister. Probably would have
deflowered the girl on her sister’s still cooling corpse if he’d thought of it
at the time. Just so the hated soul would have the memory should the bothersome
thing ever show itself again.
That of course was no longer likely. We’d taken measures to
make sure that would never happen again. It was after all why he’d turned me.
So that he would have someone to worry about those details for him, so that he
could concentrate on what he does best, tormenting his victims. Angelus had
always considered torturing his subjects the highest art form. Sire had lost
perspective last time he’d been out. He’d been out of control, his rage at
being confined behind Angel for over a century overwhelming him. It
had occurred to Angelus just before he was to begin slaughtering me that I
might be of some further use to him. That he could heed my counsel, much like
his souled counterpart had done.
For me not much had changed, aside from being liberated from
my pesky mortal conscience. The only thing that upset me really is that he’d
turned Winifred. He’d let me play first though. I’d shown her the
error of choosing Charles over me.
Of course while Fred had suffered for hours at the hands of myself and Sire, she had eventually been turned. I know that
my desire to see the jezebel killed was emotional. I realized that even then. I
think I wanted her still even in the infancy of our dark family. I could see her usefulness has well. There had been cases
where her knowledge had been nearly as useful as mine during our time with
Angel Investigations. But while Winifred had her scientific skills and I had my
occult knowledge, Charles was merely muscle and minions were in no short
supply.
I know that it probably sounds hypocritical, but I was very
pleased that Angelus had let Winifred and I keep him. Unlike the others though,
I knew no one was coming for Gunn. Charles had turned his back on his old followers
when he’d come to work for Angel and they had pretty much washed their hands of
him. He fought me so hard in those early days, though he did seem to prefer my
company to Winifred’s. He’d always come back from her rooms in worse shape then
when he left mine.
I distinctly remember sitting on one of the recliners in the
den as she handed his leash to me one day about a week after Spike had claimed
the boy. I was still so young then. Hadn’t been out of the grave more than a
couple of months at that point, far too young to have a pet, but Sire liked to
indulge us. I think he also enjoyed making us share him, watching us fight over
him like children over a favored toy. That is after all what he was. Only
unlike Alexander, Charles had no official claim on him. Only my presence or
Winifred’s protected him from the minions. Though Doc, as some of the minions
had taking to calling her behind her back due to her penchant for performing
gruesome experiments on her meals before finishing them off, had a tendency to
loan him out to various male minions. She liked to watch them use him. Another
reason he preferred my company.
I made use of him and I wasn’t always gentle. I occasionally
hurt him, but tended to simply prefer something warm in my bed and around my
cock. Once I’d gotten tired of taking out my anger on him over Fred’s choice, I
was relatively kind, as long as he didn’t fuss.
That day I could tell that Winifred had been indulging. His
back had been covered in welts and bruises and he’d reeked of at least a half
dozen minions. She’d brought him to me half naked, only wearing skimpy shorts.
My eyes flashed gold for a moment as I’d growled accepting the chain from her
dainty hand. I’d stopped just short of slipping unwillingly into my true face
something both she and I knew my Sire would have punished me severely for.
“There you are Pryce, I got him all primed for you. I’ll see
you in a couple of days Baby, be a good boy for Master,” the dark haired
vampiress had cooed, bending low to kiss his kneeling form. She’d cuffed him
when he couldn’t quite suppress a shudder.
“Winifred,” I’d warned. She’d smirked at me, looking over a
leather clad shoulder, before walking away. I’d reached down and petted him as
he’d subconsciously leaned into my leg.
“Poor Charley. Who would have thought that she’d end up being the most
vicious of the pair? Maybe she hasn’t forgiven you for sitting by and doing
nothing while your protector here and I raped her,” Angelus had taunted
laughing, idly fondling one of Dawn’s breasts. The mortal had stiffened against
me. “Better hope that Pryce doesn’t do something to piss me off. I might have
to give you to her exclusively.”
Brilliant. I wasn’t like Angelus and Winifred, or the rest of the
childer in the court for that matter. I am a vampire. When I got hungry I ate
someone, but I had absolutely no interest in the mind games the others seemed
to delight in. Even I had had to admire what my sire had just done, twisting
the knife in the vampire hunter’s heart reminding him that he was seeking
comfort from one of the very creatures that had tortured and killed the woman
he had once loved, playing off his guilt all the while threatening to take away
his only source of safety and security.
We’d tied him to a chair
and left him to watch as we defiled and tormented Fred. Charles had virtually shredded the flesh of his
wrists and ankles trying to break free that night. He still bears the scars.
He’d initially only been kept alive as a first meal for Winifred. I’d hurt him
in those long hours before she awoke, forced myself into him repeatedly without care or
preparation. Yet she still
frightened him more than me. She hadn’t wanted to kill him straight away; she’d
wanted to play virtually unheard of for a newly risen fledge.
The hunger is all consuming. I hadn’t even thought as I made my first kill. I’d
had one focus only: Blood. Not her though, she’d wanted to make him scream
first. That’s when Angelus had decided that we could keep him.
I was brought out of my reverie by Charles. He’d started
trembling slightly against me. He’d looked exhausted and I doubted that she’d
let him sleep. He probably hadn’t eaten either.
“Did she feed you, Charles?” I had asked rubbing the back of
his neck.
“No, Master.” Oh how he’d hated saying that. Gunn had never
been submissive by nature, but he’d been both tired and hungry that day. It had
taken some time, but he’d eventually learned that some battles just weren’t
worth fighting. When faced with a choice between starvation and his pride,
keeping up his energy level was more important.
I had called over to one of the minions and ordered him to
get Charles something to eat. Pushing his head into my lap I’d told him to rest
until the food came. He’d barely resisted. He’d fallen into a light doze in
seconds.
Spike had chosen that moment to stroll into the room. His
gaze immediately went to the teenager perched on Angel’s lap. She’d been has
always scantily attired. Upon seeing his disgraced grandchild Angelus had slid
a powerful hand under the tiny pink plaid skirt his pet was wearing. She’d
squeaked in surprise, but otherwise didn’t move.
“Spike, It’s not polite to stare.
Didn’t I give you your own Scooby to play with?” The larger vampire had
smirked, before violently claiming Dawn’s mouth. The blond vampire had looked
has though he was barely suppressing a growl.
“Doesn’t smell like it,” a cheery voice had remarked. “It
doesn’t seem fair that Pryce and Winifred get a pet and even Spike gets a pet,
but that I don’t. Especially when he’s not even using him,” the youngest member
of our dark family observed.
“Red does make a valid point,” Angelus had mused. “You’re
not following through with our agreement William. Maybe I will turn him over to
my girl.”
“He’s been too torn. I’ve let him heal that’s all,” the souled
vampire had replied.
“Such a generous master, I’ve fucked my dirty girl plenty of
times in the past week. You like having Master’s cock inside you don’t you
sweetheart,” our clan leader had leered, taking care to make the movement of
his hand between her legs more obvious.
“Yes, Master,” She’d whispered back eyes downcast. She had
begun to respond to his touch, I had been able to smell it from where I was sitting and I
knew that Spike must have been able to as well.
“If I don’t smell him all over you tomorrow I turn him over
to the minions. Are we clear Will?” the older vampire had warned.
“Crystal,” Spike had snapped back, turning and leaving the
room in a huff. Just then a simpering little minion, that I hadn’t recognized,
had returned with a tray for Charles. I’d shaken his shoulder needlessly,
knowing full well that he’d woken the moment Spike had arrived and voices had
begun to rise. Unhappily he’d begun eating from my hand, too starved to risk
losing the meal.
“But Daddy, Why can’t I have him? I’m so bored” Red had
chimed in petulantly.
“Hush, Princess. You don’t want Spike’s sloppy seconds. You
want a pet, we’ll get you one. We’ll go to the cells and get you one,” Angelus
had soothed. I’d been inwardly pleased by their departure. My pet had needed to
rest badly and after they left I’d had no reason to linger. I’d casually fed Gunn the
rest of his meal, not wanting to seem too eager to leave in front of the
minions before giving his lead a quick tug and leading him out of the room.