Vices of My Blood | By : oldbooks Category: BtVS AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 6946 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Author's Note: Warnings: Torture, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations, Violence Buffy/Spike; Drusilla/Angelus Pairing
Chapter 2
Buffy and Kendra had taken Angel to his apartment and tucked him into bed and then left to join Giles and the Scooby gang at the school library.
Angel rested peacefully for an hour before something jolted him awake. He experienced a clawing feeling as if something was ripping out his insides. He grimaced and tried to get comfortable but no position would work. He sat up and got out of bed only to collapse on the floor as the splitting pain got worse. “Oh, God, no!”
Angel’s demon roared through the pain until he was left in a trembling mass of dead flesh on the floor of his bedroom. His brow furrowed in confusion while he tried to make sense of what had just happened to his body.
After the few minutes he took to collect himself, he chuckled evilly as he stared at the ceiling. It was great to finally be free of that damn soul again. He had a hundred years of mayhem to catch up on. I wonder how Spike knew to do the ritual. I doubt he knows what he unleashed. William was always a simpleton, caring only about Drusilla’s health and how to restore it. He must have not have read the fine print of the spell using a soul as an agent to connect my body with Dru’s for the blood to pass through before it burned the soul to nothing. He smirked at that thought then frowned again at the thought of Buffy. Sure she was a hot, sexy little number. He couldn’t fault his soulful side for falling for that one. But love? Vampires didn’t normally vomit, but the thought of love made him want to choke. He had been trapped for a hundred years by guilt of his crimes over a young gypsy girl and now love of all things? What was this world coming to?
Oh, he remembered the gypsy girl like it was yesterday. She had the sweetest blood he ever tasted. She was a gift from Darla, a plaything for their bed when she got jealous of his attention on Drusilla. Ah, those were the days . . . days of excess, sexual orgies, endless bottles of blood wine, and a time where you’d think one missing gypsy girl would go unnoticed by a whole population.
But then, no one had said Darla was smart when she had stolen that girl out of the gypsy camp. The gypsies were the first he had seen of any magic. When he had finished ravaging the girl’s body until her screams had died on her lips leaving only a warm corpse that was cooling by the second, he had personally delivered her broken and torn body from hours of use and repeated sexual release to her clans doorstep and skulked away to the shadows to smirk and laugh to himself in the face of their grief. He only assumed they saw his fang marks and put a general soul curse on the vampire who had caused the girl’s death.
Angelus shook the thought away and picked himself up off the floor. He walked over to his closet and removed his duster, a swashbuckler shirt, leather pants and his boots. Once he was dressed, and hair gel applied; sure that everything was where it should be, he walked out the door in game face. He grabbed the first girl he saw, not caring to even notice that she was a prostitute, and violently bit her on the neck, draining her blood. He dropped her dead body among the garbage at the edge of the alley and walked away.
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