Title: Bliss Kill
Author: Elka
Email: [email protected] (Does it work? Who knows? I'll deal
with it in the next decade or so.)
Post Date: 01-15-00
Rating: R/NC17
Part: 1 of ?
Distribution: The regulars.
Disclaimer: Joss is the blood on my knife.
Spoilers: My own season four verse. You'll see.
Feedback: I'll play Regis and give you a million dollars.
Author's Notes: Someone called me a kitten. Grr. Dagney - Bitchy? Giggle. Not bitchy, just evil. Diana - Save the world. Kylia - My most favouritest mail whore. Inell - Who keeps abandoning me.

-----

Cold fingers wrapped tightly around her neck, sharp nails inserting
themselves into her flesh one at a time, slowly, painfully.
She bit her lip in pain as the smooth, warm blood dribbled
down her skin.

"L-leave me alone." She whispered.

He leaned in close, sending a bone-chilling murmur through
her eardrum. "Don't want to, luv."

"I'll scream."

"And I'll rip out your throat."

Willow paused. "What do you want?"

"To see you and your little friends die one by one. Thought
I might start with you."

Spike pulled her tiny body roughly against his, rubbing his
erection against her back. The hunt was a powerful aphrodisiac.
She squirmed to get away, his nails just slicing further into
her. She relented.

"Why me?"

"Cos, I liked you best." He spun her around, taking a lick
at the blood flowing from her neck. "Now, lights out."

Before she could blink, his fist rained down on her skull,
knocking the consciousness out of her. She fell like a rag
doll into his arms.

Spike grinned down at his prize. "Never get tired of doing
that."

-----

The rusted metal dug into her wrists, her flesh was raw from
her painful struggles. Every movement caused the chains to
sound a reminder of the hell she'd fallen face first into.

Willow's eyes roamed her new prison. The walls were flawless
rock, like marble, minus the shiny. They were a dull midnight
black with tiny specks of pale stone dotting the surface like
the eyes of past victims, stupid innocents that had fallen
prey to a tempting face and a set of coolly delivered lines.

Willow could already see her death etched on the wall.

"So, pet." Spike addressed her, passing a blood caked knife
from hand to hand. "Would you rather die very slowly or excruciatingly
slowly?"

"Excruciatingly slowly." Sarcasm.

A smile passed over his lips. "You're going to die and you're
making jokes?" He ran the sharp blade down the front of her
shirt, slicing the material in half. He let the remains hang,
barely covering her naked breasts.

The redhead gathered her tattered courage, determined to go
down fighting. "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

Spike chuckled. "Do you really think that applies?"

"No."

"Makes sense." He sneered, ripping the shirt from her body.
The cold air hit her instantly; she cursed her body's betrayal
to the surrounding nature.

"Prick."

Spike grabbed her jaw with a powerful grip. "Watch your mouth,
you whore."

"I'd rather be dead than be your whore." Willow glared evenly.

He opened his mouth to counter, but was silenced by an agonising
scream from somewhere within the compound they were in.

Her strength diminished and a tremor slid through her. "Who
was that? Where are my friends?"

The knife poked her level stomach, threatening to break the
surface. "How noble. Worrying about saving your friends instead
of saving yourself."

He flipped the knife over with a quickness, plunging the dull
handle into her abdomen. She shrieked in pain.

Willow breathed in deeply, trying to regain her composure.
Her cold stare married his amused one.

She spat in his face.

"I'll save the entire fucking world before I save myself."

******
Part 2:
 

The crack of the whip was more painful than the actual connection of leather
to flesh. Her back was raw and bleeding from the near-constant lashes that
rained down on her skin. Her lips leaked blood and saliva from the hours of
biting them to control her own screams. She flinched only when his cold
tongue attacked her wounds, licking deep into the cuts, pulling out the
sweet, warm honey of her blood. He bit the scars to quicken the flow down
his throat.

Spike had become intrigued by the girl. He had intended to bring her into
the tunnels, torture her, then kill her. Maybe gut her. Or just a plain, old
dismemberment. Live dismemberment, of course.

But now he had more than he had bargained for. He wanted to keep her alive,
but not too alive. He wanted her to feel as much pain as she could bear. And
then he would kill her. Mangle, then kill. She would feel the pain he had
felt.

The vampire abandoned the whip. He spun her around, her wrists twisting in
the shackles. She refused to look him in the eye.
This angered him.

Spike grabbed her jaw between four fingers, the fifth pressing in to her
throat.

"Look at me." He snarled.

"We helped you." Willow breathed. "And this is what I get?"

"And you thought I'd smile sweetly and prance away when I got my teeth
back?" He pushed her head away. Her skull snapped into the wall with a
sickening crack.

"Where are my friends?"

"Who cares."

"I do."

"I don't."

"Fuck you."

Spike whirred around, shoving his knee into her abdomen. She doubled over as
far as the chains would allow her to. She didn't make a sound.

Willow's silence, her indifference, her lack of reaction to his abuse
infuriated him. He already hated the world, but she was giving him a reason
to hate her seperately.

Letting his obsession with her quiet defiance be seen wasn't an option. He
reached behind his back slowly, bringing out a small, sharp blade. He held
it up in the dimly lit cavern, letting her eye the sharpness.

The thin line of blood he drew from the contour of her face, made him harden
in anticipation. The sight of it, the smell, it's presence. He leaned
forward to take it in with his tongue. He could feel her shiver beneath him,
but he pulled away. He didn't want her going soft on him now.

Red locks tumbled to the floor around her, a few strands clinging to the
drying blood that spotted her body. Spike had found that disfiguring his
victims always made it easier. Especially ones as beautiful as Willow. Her
hair was removed in bits, then in chunks. The carefully cut and tended style
nothing but a memory of what once was.

She held no reaction. She simply stared blankly past him, looking as if she
were trying to seperate herself from the fiery hell he had thrust her into.

He forced her eyes to his, silently threatening her to keep her gaze. She
stared into the glowing yellow before her.

"Go to hell." She whispered.

Spike scratched the surface of her left cheek with the knife. He ignored the
saltiness streaming down her face as he carved her skin.

He turned away when he was finished, dropping the knife on the scattering of
hair and leaving.

Willow's tears stung the fresh scars. Every drop of moisture burning her
inside and out. She knew what he had done. She could feel every stroke of
the blade, every twist of the cool metal. She knew she would forever have
the mark embedded in her skin.

Forever suddenly seemed so short.

She hung her head, relaxing her screaming muscles.

The blood on her face began to dry.

In the shape of a W.
******
Bliss Kill (3/?)

"I hate you!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, her throat hoarse and
dry. She kicked her legs fiercly, blindly thrashing at the emptiness
surrounding her. "I hate you. Hate you...hate you...hate..."

Willow repeated the words over and over again until her face was white with
fury, her muscles limp from the constant struggles. She just wanted to be
let out of her chains and laid down so she could die in peace. She refused
to fall under the hand of that monster.

Spike stepped in the room casually. He'd heard her. He had savoured every
word, every ounce of pain that had fallen from her cracked lips.

"Go to hell." She managed through her dying voice.

"You first, pet."

His features began to shift slowly. He didn't force the change; he wanted
her to witness the true power of his demon. His fangs elongated, pushing
against his lips, pushing out to finely sharpened points. Razor sharp and
hungry. His forehead crept down the bridge of his nose, adjusting the shape
of his face. The piercing blue eyes were the last to morph, widing and
losing their coldness, they glowed like a yellow hell.

Willow drew back against her chains. She had seen vamps before, plenty of
them, but never had they taken her so completely. She was frightened beyond
words and emotions, but couldn't look away. Something about the situation,
his dominance over her fighting, the way he stared at her. The fire.

Spike approached slowly, drunk with anticipation. Thoughts of sinking his
teeth in her warm neck swam around his head dizzily.

He rested a hand on her shoulder, forcing her head to one side. Her wide
green eyes never left his. Her face was unreadable, all emotion and feeling
had fallen away from her.

The hungry growl came from deep within him. It sounded as a cry for his
wanting, his needing for this girl. His swollen member throbbed painfully.
It was much denied. There was a deeper passion that needed to be fulfilled.

His tounge passed over her flesh like silk. She melted under it's coolness.

One thought flooded Willow's mind. Just one word repeated itself over and
over in her head like a broken record.

"Fight...fight...fight...fight...fight..."

She wanted to make one of her free legs lash out against him. She wanted so
bad to hurt him. She wanted him to go away and let her drift away with the
tranquility she deserved.

Spike's lips wrapped around her curves, suckling the skin that seperated him
from her flowing veins. She couldn't stop the moan that escaped.

Willow sunk against him as his teeth broke the surface. She was despaired.
Her hope was lost.

Spike adjusted his stance to keep his balance. The warm nectar trickled
smoothly down his throat. His head spun and his knees weakened.

The feeling of him inside her made her soar. Willow danced among the stars,
hair of fire streaming behind her for miles and miles on end. Her perfect,
unbroken skin wrapped around strong bones like satin. She jumped from planet
to planet, barely touching the heavenly surfaces.

His other hand found the back of her neck. He held her close to him as he
drank, pressing her bruised and bleeding naked body to his. He could feel
her heat through the old leather that encased him.

Spike's resolve dropped to the ground sharply. The two fell together against
the hard, stone wall. Not even the cold rock soothed the fire raging inside
of Willow.

She could hear the violins waltzing around her. Their tune was slow and
quiet at first, but it's tempo increased rapidly, keeping time with her
pounding heart. The sweet symphony ripped through her. The rest of the
orchestra began to play.

Willow's eyes shot open. She stared breathlessly past him. Blinding white
blocked her vision as her head snapped back.

Spike pulled his teeth out of her neck, pressing his body harder against
hers. He froze, delirious. His face reverted back to it's human disguise.

The vampire took one last lick at the wound in her flesh before turning to
leave on shaky legs.

Willow's consciousness slipped as the throes of her orgasm subsided.

-----
Bliss Kill (4/?)

Spike forced the cup to her lips. She turned her face away, refusing the
liquid.

"Drink, goddamnit. Drink." He threw the mug at her knees. It smashed into a
million pieces, sending shards of sharp glass flying into her skin and
beneath her feet. "You're not going to starve yourself."

Willow silently cast her eyes downward, focussing on the brillinatly
coloured flecks of glass.

Spike shook her angrily. "I brought you here to kill you. That means I say
when you go, I say why you go, and I say how you fucking go."

She shut her dull green eyes tightly, trying to remember what it felt like
to be happy.

She didn't even hear him leave, but she heard him return. An extra set of
footsteps forced along beside his.

Spike slapped her. "Open your eyes."

Willow relented.

"Xander!" She cried, her voice barely rising above a hauntingly strained
whisper.

He nodded, look worse than she did. Her best friend appeared to have gone to
hell and back, running into Satan himself on the way. She struggled with his
sight. He was bone thin. Standing shirtless, she could count his ribs. His
skin was a ghostly white as if his blood had been drained, leaving just
enough to pump through his now eratically beating heart. A blood-soaked
cloth was tied around his throat.

"Xander. Oh, Xander." She sobbed, only dry tears falling from her eyes.
"Xander."

Willow shook the chains, trying to reach for him.

"Xander can't talk anymore." Spike relayed in an amusing tone, a smile on
his face. "He had a bit of a problem with mouthing off."

He savoured her shock, every drop of it.

"No problem a knife couldn't fix." He added.

Willow fell ragged against her shackles.

"He can live." Spike went on. "If you want him to, that is."

She regarded him coldly. "What do you want?"

"You. Let me turn you. You'll live with me forever. Be my slave, my willing
slave, for all eternity." He leaned forward to shove a sneer in her face.
"Love me."

Xander shook his head frantically. "No." He mouthed over and over again to
her.

Willow avoided Xander's soundless pleas. She took a laboured breath.

"Fine." She bowed her head in submission.

Spike smiled triumphantly and stepped toward her, placing a possessive hand
on her bruised abdomen.

"I'll be your slave. I'll be your whore, if I have to." She continued. "But
I will never, never love you, you monster."

The vampire chuckled.

And he didn't stop until the screams of agony had ended and Xander's spine
was snapped in two.

-----
The walls spun around the girl rapidly. She shook, her entire body
convulsing into tremors. She went from chills to fever in a matter of
moments and back the other way again. Her throat was parched, her skin a
sickly yellow, devoid of any healthy content. She ached. But not on the
outside. She was beyond pain, there was nothing left. She was a dead body
with a dying soul.

Her heart heaved in her chest.

Willow sobbed for the countless time since she had been chained up. She
couldn't even remember how long it had been. There were no windows, just
black stone surrounding her.

The tears rolled down her naked body like a flood. She was bruised, scarred,
and constantly bleeding. Her lack of response to any of Spike's abuse had
just made it worst. Whenever he came to her cell, she pulled herself inside,
shutting everything down. She'd pretend she wasn't even there, that she was
just floating above his head like an angel trying to figure out how to help
this poor girl.

But he would leave and everything would be as it was.

Willow prayed she would go to hell. It would be better. It would be a rest.

"Stupid little whore." Spike clasped his hands behind his back as he strode
in the room. "Crying all over yourself. No wonder you were such a loser and
the wolf dumped you. Too busy feeling sorry for nobody but yourself."

She savoured the silent moments in between his verbal molestations.

"Speaking of the wolf..."

She broke free from her abyss to raise her eyes to his.

Spike continued, amused at how easy it was to get her attention if he really
wanted it.

"He has a scar. A little one. On his left ankle." He leered at his own
evilness. "Isn't that right, pet?"

She choked out an answer. "Where's Oz?"

"Oh, I have him. Of course. I have them all. Well, not the librarian. Killed
him. You want to know how?"

"You're going to tell me anyway."

"Did it slowly. I know how much he meant to you. And the Slayer. It was kind
of sweet how he died. Well, not really. I broke him. First his legs. Then
his arms. Then I opened a vein in his neck and tied him up. Took him a bit
to die. Loss of blood can take awhile. It all just flowed out. He got a
little delusional at the end. Started talking to himself and such."

"Let me see Oz."

"You realise it's a full moon, don't you?"

"Good. He'll kill you."

"It's not quite sunset yet."

"Show me that he's alive...I'll-I'll do something for you."

As payment for her life, Willow was forced to do things for Spike. He always
asked demeaning and humiliating things of her, but if it meant a chance to
see Oz, she would do it in a heartbeat.

-----

Oz was led in in chains. He had shackles around his hands and ankles. His
eyes flickered when he saw Willow. He reached out for her, only to be pulled
back by Spike.

Spike held a gun to his head.

"Hey Will." Oz mustered.

"Oz..." She teared.

"It's going to be okay."

"No."

"Yes. It is. It's coming."

"It's time?"

Spike glanced between the two of them. Oz froze, his body shaking slightly.

The chains snapped from his ankles and wrists.

The vampire fell backwards, dropping his weapon.

The wolf tore after Spike, catching a mouthful of boot. Spike clawed for his
gun, but Wolf-Oz was on him, his teeth sinking into his neck. He started to
rip the flesh.

Spike plunged the barrel of the gun into Oz' fur. He got a solid kick in,
giving him the upper hand. He ignored the blood that gushed painfully from
his shoulder.

The chained Willow distracted the wolf, he crouched low, ready to pounce
her.

Willow chanted the words loudly, using her failing strength to push them out
clearly.

Oz' human form began to slowly take over again, pushing the wolf out. He
dropped to the floor, retrieving the second fallen gun while Spike froze in
surprise.

He recovered quickly, spinning around, barrel aimed.

Oz flipped to his feet, gun in hand.

Standoff.

They stood glaring at each other, fingers poised on triggers.

-----