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by Athena
"My heart collapsed that day, not that I really 'ave a heart or nothing like that but I must 'ave 'aven't I? Otherwise why would I have stayed with Dru for so long, she needed me... but I needed something else, sure it took some Royal kickings of my ass to learn it but I catch on...sooner or later."
The blond man chuckled as he took a long drag on his cigarette. Blowing it in my direction, I inhaled the sickly sweet smell as it invaded my nostrils. I saw the man through the smoky haze, to say he was devilishly good looking was an understatement. But I suppose that's why I'm here, even the devil needs a witness and I've been elected.
"She was such a bitch when I first met 'er, 'attacked 'er', all spitfire and resourceful. A Slayer with family and friends, that sure as hell wasn't in the brochure. Told that to Dru once, stupid bitch..."
As he trails off I am not sure if the stupid bitch he's referring to is Dru or the other one, this 'Slayer'. The room is dark and almost always half of his face is in shadow. The butt of his cigarette almost illuminates the room, one bright burning speck in a sea of darkness.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am by no means a nice bloke and mind your manners lest I 'ave to teach you some, and believe me baby that would not be a good thing. My given name is William, last name is unimportant but for sanity's sake you will call me Master and I will call you whatever the bloody hell I please."
He seems pleased with his statement, I can live with this. He stops to light another cancer stick, it is apparent that this man is pondering something in the back of his mind. I almost crack a smile thinking about the head games he could play on a shrink. No smiling though, doubt that would be too good for my health. He's still thinking. As I take in his appearance I notice that he is different than other men that I've seen.
There are so few in my life these day though. I didn't think people could get that pale but it suites him. I almost blush thinking about it, the fine sculpted marble, like a Greek statue. Only his face isn't placid, nor is it innocent, and though I am certainly not versed in Greek art he somehow looks familiar though I know it is impossible.
"She, the Slayer mind you, she was a wild one, all passionate and soulful."
He spits out the last word.
" And oh boy did she ever hate me, cause I couldn't stand her boyfriend, her little pet on the side. But you see, he was messing around with my girl, also on the side see and then he wanted to destroy the world. That's when all things went to hell...pun intended."
He's staring at me now, like his words should have more of a meaning, like I should know exactly what he is talking about. I'm interested in his story, I want to know more, he speaks with such feeling for someone who claims to not have a heart. He's lying, about not having a heart. For some reason I know this when his eyes bore into me. He crooks his head to the side and his brow furrow together. He's waiting for something, wanting something. Something he can't find in his bottle of brandy. Clearing his throat he taps on the tape deck looking down at it and then back up at me. Oh! I quickly eject the tape and flip it over, my new 'bracelets' clanking as I more to push record.
"So as I was saying, our lovers are respectively 'aving a little slap and tickle at our expense and my slayer and I decide to team up, mortal enemies and all that rot. I know she hates me, I'm not to fond of the git myself but together we were all we had and that would just simply 'ave to do. It didn't turn out the way we planned, not by a long shot baby. I can see your curious, good. Well the bloody poof and my whore 'ave this grandiose plan for the destruction of humanity and wait you'll like this, and they honestly think I won't mind. Goodbye Manchester United, Leicester Square, dog racing, happy meals..."
He is glaring at me now and I must honestly wonder about his mental state, why should I care about happy meals with legs? He's beaming now, almost is if he can read my mind and isn't that a scary thought. His movements are so swift that I am momentarily taken off guard yet for some reason his actions do not startle me and I don't protest as he runs his cold porsline fingers through my hair. As he moves around to the back I can almost swear his face is deformed yet I still find him beautiful despite the situation. There is a lesson to be learned here but I don't know what it is. I can feel his rage behind me, coupled with another emotions, passion.
"She loved me, but not as much as she loved him and when it came time to make the choice she chose him throwing herself into him as he went to hell, may they burn together forever. Things change but not us, not demons, and I was on my slayer like a lion feasting on a fresh kill. She did not fight back, she was lost inside her mind when she died. I found that out as I sucked her dry. But that was my mistake."
Why is my heart beating so fast? Or perhaps that's what scares me, the fact that I don't feel my heart beat? That everything is perfectly calm inside. His fingers caress my neck slowly and methodically and I feel my insides melt despite my supposedly impending doom. He continues whispering softly in my ear.
"The tape 'as stopped."
I slowly reach down and replace the spent cassette. The buzz begins again and so does his soliloquy.
"Her life swept me away, her memories became my own. I wasn't expecting that you see. But she was as unnatural as I. Drinking her was my mistake. Why you ask? You haven't, but you know, and I am going to tell you anyway. Her bloody passion and love flowed into me that night and I knew what love truly felt like and that was my downfall. Because I felt her love not only for the bloody pillock who ruined our lives, and I use that term loosely, but for her family and friends...and me. My heart collapsed that day."
The last part was so quiet I could barely hear it. She had loved him? Why, it didn't seem that hard to believe did it?
"She had loved me, secretly, silently, and unnaturally. My undoing was her seeming humanity that had infected me and I suddenly felt regretful and dirty and most of all human. Me, the slayer of slayers. I am a killer pet, you know that don't you?"
And I do I really do, his words are touching me and I feel something familiar in his voice. Poor sod, lost both his women. Sod, that's a funny turn of phrase. I have dreams sometimes, for the past few months. I remember nothing before but these dreams are so weird and they are violent and I see a girl sometimes with dark hair and pale. Pale as my companion is now. She stands with a tall dark stranger with smoldering black eyes and I feel both love and hate for this dark angel. And the darkness swallows them...but these are only dreams and this, this is real. This man with his hands on my body. They tell me I'm allergic to the sun, and I starve, I eat and eat and eat and nothing ever happens and I'm always left wanting...
"I couldn't finish the job, so I fed her and in turn damned her forever. She did not remember you see, it was the wrong time and she was lost, almost like Dru and she invades my mind and I still feel her love flowing through me along with her blood. And it's bloody driving me mad and I need her...because I have no one else."
I feel queasy, and dizzy and the smoke is confusing me, those sweet smelling cigarettes. He's told his story and he's finished now. I want him to be finished now, I want to stop feeling this way so I make motion to rise but my chains hold me from going far.
"Going somewhere pet? Don't you want to say pretty please? Let me show you something."
Swiftly he lifts me on to the table pinning my body with his, I can feel his erection pressing against my thigh and his hand that had once favoured my neck has now settled upon my breast. I struggle a little then there is a knife that has suddenly appeared in his hand. I stop struggling. He tips the blade toward himself and a thin red line forms at the base of his neck near the collar bone, and as the ruby red droplets well up the strong sent of iron assaults my senses. I look at him, wide eyes I know, and he leans down with his lips so close to mine that I think he is going to kiss me. Only he doesn't and I don't know if I'm disappointed or grateful. Those satin hands caress me as his cheek comes in contact with my own gliding downward towards my neck and his blood drips onto my lips. A torrent of images flood in attempting to drown me and I can't control this unholy urge any longer. I kiss him and drink from the red fount which feels every bit my salvation and I hear him laugh as the flood of a whole other life rushes in to greet me.
And I am left wanting no more.
****
She drinks vehemently and I know now that knows, that she has remembered...
"Spike..."
She moans it, whispers it, needs it. She breaks her chains and cor the way her hands snake across my body...
"Welcome home baby."
And the tape begins to record a new conversation of the most ancient kind...
~END~
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