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In the Third Mouth of Satan
"A heavy thunder broke through the deep sleep in my head, so that I started up like a person who is waked by force, and, rise erect, I moved my rested eye round about, and looked fixedly to distinguish the place where I was. True it is, that I found myself on the brink of the woeful valley of the abyss which collects a thunder of infinite wailings. It was so dark, deep, and cloudy, that, though I fixed my sight on the depth, I did not discern anything there."
- Canto IV, �The Divine Comedy: The Inferno�, Algiheri Dante
"Then you know it�s a guided tour of the underworld. The nine levels of hell."
"Yes, descending, concentric rings based on the severity of the sin."
"You know, I always forget. At the very bottom of hell, in the ninth circle, the devil's frozen in ice, right? He's got three heads, three mouths, and these mouths are reserved for the worst sinners. I can�t remember, who is in the center mouth? What was his name? The one person in all of human history who was deemed the greatest sinner. Who is it?"
"Judas Iscariot."
"Right. The worst spot in hell is reserved for those who betray... So don�t pretend you�re too good to work for us."
- "A New World"
"I'm starting to like you, Wes. But don�t go making more of this than it is. I'm not one of the doey-eyed girls of Angel Investigations. Don't be thinking about me when I'm gone."
"I wasn't thinking about you when you were here."
- "Tomorrow"
* * *
I want to kill her. I want her to feel a knife slip through her layers of skin and muscle, then into the trachea, perhaps even the esophagus, as though layers that had spent years of life being built were butter. And she, more than anyone, I thought, deserved it.
Except for me. I deserved it. I'd stolen Angel's son, and for nothing. I had nearly destroyed a healthy, strong slayer, and turned her evil. I had nearly killed and raped my best friend and would � be lover. And she had rejected me for a man I had loved like a brother.
Lilah had been right, that night she came to me holding in her hand Dante's Inferno. I have never needed it. I have always been in the inferno, since birth. I am lying in the third mouth of Satan, as Judas is. He is here beside me tonight, I think, as I lay and pant and exert energy on this horrible bitch of a woman, in the bed too short a time ago I was confined to.
I hate myself for my weakness. I hate this. I hate her. This is what I am spending it all on, all the hatred, discomfort, the fear, everything that has happened recently � I am using it all on her. It is flowing into her, just as I am.
I am not thinking of her, while this happens. I swear it by my life. I forget her. She is just the cipher for which all of my life is streaming into. But as far as I am concerned, it is not her that I am sweating on, that I am inserting fluids into, that I am begetting and committing the unholy act on.
In fact, I am thinking of someone that, before now, I had never thought of fornicating with. I had thought her too pure and innocent and loved her that way.
I am thinking of Fred beneath me, moaning as Lilah is, whimpering and begging me for more. I am thinking of Fred, squirming and wriggling.
I am thinking of Fred, clutching her throat as I did Lilah's at the bar, and I am thinking of making her mine as only men can.
I feel remorse immediately after thinking it. But I cannot take back the thoughts � and so I don't even try. To me, Fred represents Angel Investigations. She represents what I could have had and what I want and what was taken from me.
And why shouldn't I punish her for that?
It is Fred's body I push harder to the mattress, Fred's that I am bruising with sprawling hands.
It is not Lilah's face I see. It is Fred's.
I'm going to kill Lilah.
And then, when I think that, I know I have crossed the line. I can never cross back over. I want to kill Lilah. I want to take a knife and stab it into these unrevealed breasts. I want to take a rope and tighten it around her pretty little neck. I want to hit her until her smirk disappears from her face.
She really is quite pretty when she stops sneering, you know.
Fred was wrong. When I attacked her, when I was poisoned with Billy's blood�it was not something that changed me. No. It was something that had lied in wait within me. And whatever that was has been unleashed.
I speak of vessels � it is Lilah who has become the unlucky vessel for this new me.
Yes, I am in Satan's third mouth. I am sealed there � no Angel or Gunn or Cordelia or Fred to save me now. I am locked here, and no one can get me out.
It doesn't matter. Because Lilah is bringing me further in. And I am not resisting.
It doesn't matter, again. Because for the rest of my life, I will lie. It's not her, my enemy here beneath me, wriggling in pleasure. It is whoever I want it to be. Whoever. It is Fred and Cordelia. Faith or Buffy. The girl who rejected me in high school. The girl who refused to date me in college.
So long as I don't think it's Lilah.
I'm not a part of Wolfram and Hart
I'm still good.
I was a Watcher. I fought the good fight. I fell in love. I had a family and I had friends.
I'm still good.
I'm still good.
I don't need Lilah. I don't need anyone.
But how can I be good when it's all my fault?
No. Don't think that. You aren't in bed with Lilah, you're in bed with Fred and you are in love and you are still working for Angel and �
Yes. I'm still good. Please?
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