AN: Ok, so here's chapter 4. I apologize for the delay, and I promise next chapter will be posted this week. As always, title is a song by Marilyn Manson and quote at the beginning another song by Avenged Sevenfold. Thanks to my betas Slaymesoftly and Legen and to Behind Blue Eyes for her wonderful ideas. Thank you!! Btw, go read her new fic "A link is forged" if you haven't already, 'cause it's great.

Please, review, I'm begging you! I want to know if anyone is still following this story.



 

CHAPTER 4: “ I Want To Kill You Like They Do In The Movies ”  

Take the time just to listen
When the voices screaming are much too loud
Take a look in the distance
Try and see it all
~Buried alive , Avenged Sevenfold~




   He wasn’t sure how long he remained lying on the dirt floor, shaking with pain and confusion his newly received soul had caused. At first there was the physical pain of the invasion, but after a few moments (hours, days maybe?) it became a dull ache in the back of his mind. It was then that he noticed the first effects of the soul connecting with his self. While his demon tried to rebel at the intrusion, there was a part of him that welcomed the soul like a long lost friend.
In these few moments of clarity, he experienced a feeling of completeness he had never felt before. And then all hell broke loose.

Because there were voices.

So many voices of so many people he didn’t even remember. Voices without faces swirling around him, blaming him for so many different transgressions and demanding retribution for things he had done. Worst of all he heard, saw, and felt every single death he had caused; heard every single neck cracking, saw every single fear-filled gaze, tasted every single last drop of blood.
He felt guilt, a gut wrenching sensation like nothing he had ever felt, and it was too much.
He didn’t know how or when he grabbed his duster and crawled out of the cave, how he went back to civilization, nor how he managed to sneak inside a cargo ship. The only thing his brain was capable of processing was that he needed to get back. To get back home. To get back to her.

While he got closer and closer to North America, his sanity began to slip away from him. Once the voices and the pain got too strong, the man in him, his human side, surrendered and hid behind the demon, trusting it to protect them from the guilt. When he finally reached the American coast, there was nothing left of his former self. He had no name, no memory; he was just a feral demon following his instincts.

And his instincts were guiding him to one place: Sunnydale.  


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It had been three really long weeks.

Buffy sat on the back porch and sighed. Glory hadn’t shown up, but they knew the day of the ritual was drawing near. Time was short and they didn’t have a plan, except killing Dawn, and that was so not happening. They needed something more, a better plan, more weapons, and stronger people protecting Dawn…

And Spike had left town. She was completely sure of that. The night after finding his crypt abandoned, she decided to go looking for him. The first stop was, obviously, Willie’s. Even after punching the bartender a few times, he still insisted he hadn’t seen Spike and had no idea where to find him. After a few more punches, she decided to believe him. She perked up when she saw Clem, a loose skinned demon that she had seen hanging around Spike’s place a couple of times. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more information either.

“Look, Slayer, I really had no idea where he is but, please, don’t slay me for telling you that, okay? If Spike hasn’t been by his crypt in weeks, and I can tell you he didn’t came to play kitten poker one single time either, it’s possible he skipped town altogether. God knows he would be better far from here, let me tell you.”

It was pretty clear he had left, but she couldn’t help but wonder why. Sure, she had rejected and punched him, but it wasn’t like him to just leave at the first sign of trouble. It wasn’t like this was the first time she had gone for his nose, either. But there was something different this time.
Now she knew he loved her.

Not long ago she had finally reached the conclusion that Spike, somehow, was different from the other vampires. For some reason, he had more control over his demon and it was obvious he could feel deep emotions; he used to love Drusilla, after all. So that was why she was beginning to believe that maybe he loved her and, well, it was nice to think that someone could have feelings of such a depth for her. Even if she didn’t love him back.
Although she had to be blind not to notice how hot he was and—

She wasn’t going there, in fact, she wasn’t even thinking about him anymore. Yep, not thinking about the hot vampire anymore.

Yeah, whatever you say. You know you want him—

Shut up, subconscious.  

Ah, denial is a nice place to live.

After three weeks of intense thinking and way too much prompting by her mother and sister, she had decided to give him a chance. Not in the romantic sense, of course, but to give him an opportunity to show how he had changed and maybe someday become allies or even friends. It wasn’t much, but it was all she could give at the moment and, anyway, it didn’t matter because he had left. Just like every other man in her life.  

Not like he was a man or anything, but still… With a deep sigh, Buffy stood and walked back into the house.


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  Unbeknownst to the now sleeping slayer, a feral creature was barging into town. The vampire didn’t recognize anything around him; the streets, the buildings, they didn’t hold any significance to him. He moved around blindly, keeping himself hidden in shadows, apparently looking for something.

Suddenly he stopped, sniffing. There was something he recognized; it wasn’t even a smell, it was the echo of a smell. A memory so deeply imbedded in his brain that even in his addled state he could remember a wisp of it. Vampires. Family.
Following the memory or the scent, he found an old mansion and went inside. He looked for a place dark enough for him to hide and wait. For what? He didn’t know.  


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Two days later, the Slayer was walking back from her nightly patrol, when her ‘spidey’ sense went off.

She stopped in her tracks, it wasn’t the usual ‘vampire!’ feeling she got when patrolling. It felt as if there was a master vampire nearby and something else, she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Deciding to investigate a bit before going home, she followed her slayer senses until she was standing before the old mansion on Crawford Street. The very same mansion Angelus had ‘purchased’ three years ago.
Pushing the memories of Angel to the back of her mind, she went inside and continued looking for the mystery. She found the source of the vampire tingles from behind a closed door on the second floor. As soon as she entered, she spotted a figure huddled between the bed and the dresser, trembling and looking miserable.
She was about to dust the pathetic looking vampire, when she recognized the platinum hair and the duster wrapped around him.

She couldn’t help herself and gasped, “Spike.”

At the sound he raised his head and looked at her realizing he wasn’t alone in the room. As she met his eyes, she took a step back in surprise. It wasn’t that he was in game face; it was that the yellow eyes that stared at her were cold and held no recognition in them.

She realized her mistake in entering the mansion when a feral vampire tackled her to the floor and buried his fangs in her neck.


TBC...