Buffy Fic: Seeing Red
Jul. 25th, 2008 09:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
switch842Yes, folks. It's my first Buffy fanfic! Yay!!! It's from one of the monthly prompts at the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
nekid_spike community: Red looks good on him. This is what came out of that. I hope you like it.
Title: Seeing Red
Characters/Pairings: Spike/Drusilla and an OC
Rating: PG-13 ish.
Word Count: 1728
Summary: Spike and Drusilla decide to play.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, please don't sue me. I have no money, anyway.
A/N: Big, HUGE thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nikki_dichotomy for the beta and being my own personal Buffy encyclopedia. You rock, chica! This is set pre-Buffy. Round about 1899, actually. Enjoy!
Spike had been coming to this same pub for nearly two weeks now. And he wasn’t the only one. There was a young man across the room who had been making a habit of looking pointedly in his direction whenever Spike came into the place. Normally, Spike would have paid him no mind. But there was something about the young man that nagged at him. It could have been his rather blatant come-hither expression that was unusual in an establishment such as this. Throw that look at the wrong person, and you would be dead before you finished your beer. Then again, it may have also had something to do with the blood red handkerchief hanging out of his jacket pocket.
It was that color that got Spike’s mouth watering and his taste buds tingling. It would have been easy for Spike to just take him away and be done with him, but he wanted to play with this one. It had been too long since he’d last gotten to play with his food. Perhaps Drusilla would like to have some fun, too. They’d been in Dover for almost a month now. It was the turn of the century and everyone was talking progress and the amazing things to come. Spike couldn’t care less.
His mind made up, he looked at the young man and held his gaze as he stood. He then very deliberately turned and walked out the door, knowing he would be followed. He took his time and stopped at the edge of the alley next to the bar. As the young man came into his view, Spike grabbed him and pulled him halfway down the alley before throwing him up against the cold, brick wall.
"Hi, there," Spike greeted. "I figured you wanted to meet me. So, here I am. What do you want?"
The young man was shaking as Spike held him several feet off the ground. He was sputtering and flailing, though Spike held him easily. Spike sighed as he realized he would need to loosen his grip if he expected any sort of answer out of the young man.
"Well?" Spike said as he set him back on his own two feet.
"I..I…know what you are," he managed to stutter out.
"Really? And just what am I supposed to be?"
"A vam-vampire."
"What makes you think that?"
"I’ve followed you," the young man replied, growing slightly bolder. "I’ve seen you kill and what you can do."
"All right, so you’ve seen me suck some blood. I ask you again, what do you want?" Spike said growing irritated.
"I want to be like you. Please, I have nothing left!"
Spike stood there, amused at the young man’s blatant request. "Listen, um..."
"Charles."
"Listen, Charles. Do you have any idea of what you’re really asking? If you have nothing left, as you claim, why not ask me to kill you? That can be done easily enough. Why ask to be turned?"
Charles took a deep breath before launching into his story. He needed Spike to believe him.
"My wife and child were murdered several months ago," he started. "I know who did it. The officials know who did it, but nothing can be done to him due to his position. I need to hurt him the way he hurt me. And I can’t do that as a man. I need to be something more. So they can’t touch me any more than they could touch him."
Spike already knew he wouldn’t be turning this child into a vampire. He had more class than that. But, perhaps this would allow him to have his fun a little longer.
"Well, Charlie. You want to know what it’s like to be a vampire? Come with me."
With that, Spike led Charles through the town, answering whatever inane questions were asked while he looked for that evening’s dinner. He found it in the form of a teenage girl who happened to have the unlucky fortune to be caught out alone at night. Spike turned on the charm big time, wanting to draw the spineless Charles even further into his web. As he bent down to sink his teeth into the girl’s neck, he made sure to keep his eyes on Charles and watched as his eyes grew frightened when the change overtook him and the girl called out in terror. Spike only bit harder, growling as the blood rushed over his tongue and the pungent aroma filled his nostrils. This was what he loved. This rush of power, making someone feel so helpless they had no choice. It was intoxicating.
Spike dropped the girl where they were standing in the alley and stalked towards Charles, his vampire face still out for show.
"This what you want?" he asked. "Killing innocent people night after night?" Spike closed the distance between them until Charles was pressed up against the stone wall. Barely a hair’s breadth between them.
"I don’t…I won’t," Charles stammered. "Once I’m done with him, I’ll kill myself. There’s no reason for me to live after that."
"Then why should I even turn you?" Spike laughed. "Besides, you might grow to like it once you’ve tried it."
"I’m sure I won’t."
Spike stepped back and huffed out a breath. "Very well. Come with me."
Spike led the two of them to the other side of town, walking down every gloomy alley and through every creepy cemetery he could find to the crypt that he and Drusilla had been inhabiting. Oh, and it was a lovely crypt. Dark and dank and dirty with lovely dead rats everywhere. Spike loved it. He bet Charlie wouldn’t.
"Here we are," he said approaching St. Mary’s. He opened the gate and headed towards the crypt behind the church. He didn’t look back, knowing Charlie would be following him, still hoping to get his wish granted. "Honey, I’m home!" he called as soon as he made it down.
"Spike!" Drusilla called. "Have you brought me a present?"
"I have, pet. But this one’s a bit…different. Wants to be like us."
He grabbed Charles then and threw him into the room. Charles fell to the floor at Drusilla’s feet, almost breaking his arm in the process. He cried out in pain, clutching his arm to his chest.
"Poor thing," Drusilla said, crouching down to get a better look. She dragged a sharp nail along his cheek, drawing a bit of blood. "Mama has a baby in the oven, but he doesn’t know he’s about to be eaten, does he?"
"Not at all," Spike said joining her on the floor. "I felt in for a bit of play tonight, love. You up for it?"
"Oh, yes!" she cried with a big smile on her face, jumping up and down and clapping. "Been so long since we’ve gotten to play with our food. And he does look delicious."
"I knew you would approve. Now, Charlie. I’m sorry to say, you won’t be joining us. You didn’t really think I was that stupid, did you? No, don’t answer that. So, instead, you’ll be our evening entertainment."
The last thing Charles knew was something hard connecting with the side of his head.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~~+~
Throughout the rest of the night, Charles was relentlessly tortured by Spike and Drusilla. He was cut, whipped, beaten and fed on to within an inch of his life. Each time, they would allow him to recover as much as he could before starting all over again.
When Charles woke for the final time, he found he could not move. He tugged his arms and legs experimentally and discovered that he was strung up by his wrists. He heard the rattling of chains and knew he was in serious trouble. He was also naked. The cuts and welts on his body were starting to clot, making his skin feel stiff and unwieldy.
He lifted his head at the sound of laughter and saw Spike and Drusilla huddled together on the bed, their clothing clinging haphazardly to them. They looked his way as the chains clanked together.
"Look, pet. Our dinner is awake," Spike said as he got off the bed.
"No! Please don’t," Charles protested, trying to shrink away.
"What did you think would happen? We’d turn you and let you go to do your worst and then poof? I don’t think so, mate."
Suddenly, Spike was upon him, his face transformed into that of his demon. Sharp pain coursed through Charles’ body as Spike bit into his jugular. Then just as quickly, he pulled away. Charles watched as Spike walked over to what he recognized as his discarded clothing. Spike bent down and pulled something from one of his pockets. He stepped up to Charles and held the blood red handkerchief in front of his face.
"This was your problem, mate," Spike growled. "You were taunting me. Rubbing this in my face. This was where you went wrong. And now, you’re done for."
Shockingly, Spike stepped back and Charles cowered as Drusilla approached. She leaned in close and sniffed at him, trying to get his scent.
"You’re a tasty morsel, aren’t you?" she whispered. She brought one of her long nails up to his chest and dragged it down, drawing out more blood. She licked her finger and shivered at the taste. "Oh, it’s delicious. Have some more."
Spike leaned over and licked the remaining blood from Drusilla’s finger. "Tasty," he growled. He turned his attention back to Charles and bared his fangs. "Dinner time."
He lunged at Charles, letting all his fury and anger out as he attacked. He bit hard, harder than was strictly necessary and felt the blood pulse as it poured over his tongue and trickled down his chin. He was making a mess, but he didn’t care. He was pissed off and someone had to pay. When he had drank his fill he stepped back, panting, and admired his work. Charles was still twitching and blood was running down his chest. Some of it had even spattered on the wall behind him.
Drusilla’s eyes were wide with delight at the sight in front of her. "Is it my turn? He looks so yummy."
"Leave him, pet," Spike said, watching the blood drip down the body and starting to pool on the floor. "Red looks good on him."
THE END
nekid_spike community: Red looks good on him. This is what came out of that. I hope you like it.Title: Seeing Red
Characters/Pairings: Spike/Drusilla and an OC
Rating: PG-13 ish.
Word Count: 1728
Summary: Spike and Drusilla decide to play.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, please don't sue me. I have no money, anyway.
A/N: Big, HUGE thanks to
nikki_dichotomy for the beta and being my own personal Buffy encyclopedia. You rock, chica! This is set pre-Buffy. Round about 1899, actually. Enjoy!Spike had been coming to this same pub for nearly two weeks now. And he wasn’t the only one. There was a young man across the room who had been making a habit of looking pointedly in his direction whenever Spike came into the place. Normally, Spike would have paid him no mind. But there was something about the young man that nagged at him. It could have been his rather blatant come-hither expression that was unusual in an establishment such as this. Throw that look at the wrong person, and you would be dead before you finished your beer. Then again, it may have also had something to do with the blood red handkerchief hanging out of his jacket pocket.
It was that color that got Spike’s mouth watering and his taste buds tingling. It would have been easy for Spike to just take him away and be done with him, but he wanted to play with this one. It had been too long since he’d last gotten to play with his food. Perhaps Drusilla would like to have some fun, too. They’d been in Dover for almost a month now. It was the turn of the century and everyone was talking progress and the amazing things to come. Spike couldn’t care less.
His mind made up, he looked at the young man and held his gaze as he stood. He then very deliberately turned and walked out the door, knowing he would be followed. He took his time and stopped at the edge of the alley next to the bar. As the young man came into his view, Spike grabbed him and pulled him halfway down the alley before throwing him up against the cold, brick wall.
"Hi, there," Spike greeted. "I figured you wanted to meet me. So, here I am. What do you want?"
The young man was shaking as Spike held him several feet off the ground. He was sputtering and flailing, though Spike held him easily. Spike sighed as he realized he would need to loosen his grip if he expected any sort of answer out of the young man.
"Well?" Spike said as he set him back on his own two feet.
"I..I…know what you are," he managed to stutter out.
"Really? And just what am I supposed to be?"
"A vam-vampire."
"What makes you think that?"
"I’ve followed you," the young man replied, growing slightly bolder. "I’ve seen you kill and what you can do."
"All right, so you’ve seen me suck some blood. I ask you again, what do you want?" Spike said growing irritated.
"I want to be like you. Please, I have nothing left!"
Spike stood there, amused at the young man’s blatant request. "Listen, um..."
"Charles."
"Listen, Charles. Do you have any idea of what you’re really asking? If you have nothing left, as you claim, why not ask me to kill you? That can be done easily enough. Why ask to be turned?"
Charles took a deep breath before launching into his story. He needed Spike to believe him.
"My wife and child were murdered several months ago," he started. "I know who did it. The officials know who did it, but nothing can be done to him due to his position. I need to hurt him the way he hurt me. And I can’t do that as a man. I need to be something more. So they can’t touch me any more than they could touch him."
Spike already knew he wouldn’t be turning this child into a vampire. He had more class than that. But, perhaps this would allow him to have his fun a little longer.
"Well, Charlie. You want to know what it’s like to be a vampire? Come with me."
With that, Spike led Charles through the town, answering whatever inane questions were asked while he looked for that evening’s dinner. He found it in the form of a teenage girl who happened to have the unlucky fortune to be caught out alone at night. Spike turned on the charm big time, wanting to draw the spineless Charles even further into his web. As he bent down to sink his teeth into the girl’s neck, he made sure to keep his eyes on Charles and watched as his eyes grew frightened when the change overtook him and the girl called out in terror. Spike only bit harder, growling as the blood rushed over his tongue and the pungent aroma filled his nostrils. This was what he loved. This rush of power, making someone feel so helpless they had no choice. It was intoxicating.
Spike dropped the girl where they were standing in the alley and stalked towards Charles, his vampire face still out for show.
"This what you want?" he asked. "Killing innocent people night after night?" Spike closed the distance between them until Charles was pressed up against the stone wall. Barely a hair’s breadth between them.
"I don’t…I won’t," Charles stammered. "Once I’m done with him, I’ll kill myself. There’s no reason for me to live after that."
"Then why should I even turn you?" Spike laughed. "Besides, you might grow to like it once you’ve tried it."
"I’m sure I won’t."
Spike stepped back and huffed out a breath. "Very well. Come with me."
Spike led the two of them to the other side of town, walking down every gloomy alley and through every creepy cemetery he could find to the crypt that he and Drusilla had been inhabiting. Oh, and it was a lovely crypt. Dark and dank and dirty with lovely dead rats everywhere. Spike loved it. He bet Charlie wouldn’t.
"Here we are," he said approaching St. Mary’s. He opened the gate and headed towards the crypt behind the church. He didn’t look back, knowing Charlie would be following him, still hoping to get his wish granted. "Honey, I’m home!" he called as soon as he made it down.
"Spike!" Drusilla called. "Have you brought me a present?"
"I have, pet. But this one’s a bit…different. Wants to be like us."
He grabbed Charles then and threw him into the room. Charles fell to the floor at Drusilla’s feet, almost breaking his arm in the process. He cried out in pain, clutching his arm to his chest.
"Poor thing," Drusilla said, crouching down to get a better look. She dragged a sharp nail along his cheek, drawing a bit of blood. "Mama has a baby in the oven, but he doesn’t know he’s about to be eaten, does he?"
"Not at all," Spike said joining her on the floor. "I felt in for a bit of play tonight, love. You up for it?"
"Oh, yes!" she cried with a big smile on her face, jumping up and down and clapping. "Been so long since we’ve gotten to play with our food. And he does look delicious."
"I knew you would approve. Now, Charlie. I’m sorry to say, you won’t be joining us. You didn’t really think I was that stupid, did you? No, don’t answer that. So, instead, you’ll be our evening entertainment."
The last thing Charles knew was something hard connecting with the side of his head.
~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~~+~
Throughout the rest of the night, Charles was relentlessly tortured by Spike and Drusilla. He was cut, whipped, beaten and fed on to within an inch of his life. Each time, they would allow him to recover as much as he could before starting all over again.
When Charles woke for the final time, he found he could not move. He tugged his arms and legs experimentally and discovered that he was strung up by his wrists. He heard the rattling of chains and knew he was in serious trouble. He was also naked. The cuts and welts on his body were starting to clot, making his skin feel stiff and unwieldy.
He lifted his head at the sound of laughter and saw Spike and Drusilla huddled together on the bed, their clothing clinging haphazardly to them. They looked his way as the chains clanked together.
"Look, pet. Our dinner is awake," Spike said as he got off the bed.
"No! Please don’t," Charles protested, trying to shrink away.
"What did you think would happen? We’d turn you and let you go to do your worst and then poof? I don’t think so, mate."
Suddenly, Spike was upon him, his face transformed into that of his demon. Sharp pain coursed through Charles’ body as Spike bit into his jugular. Then just as quickly, he pulled away. Charles watched as Spike walked over to what he recognized as his discarded clothing. Spike bent down and pulled something from one of his pockets. He stepped up to Charles and held the blood red handkerchief in front of his face.
"This was your problem, mate," Spike growled. "You were taunting me. Rubbing this in my face. This was where you went wrong. And now, you’re done for."
Shockingly, Spike stepped back and Charles cowered as Drusilla approached. She leaned in close and sniffed at him, trying to get his scent.
"You’re a tasty morsel, aren’t you?" she whispered. She brought one of her long nails up to his chest and dragged it down, drawing out more blood. She licked her finger and shivered at the taste. "Oh, it’s delicious. Have some more."
Spike leaned over and licked the remaining blood from Drusilla’s finger. "Tasty," he growled. He turned his attention back to Charles and bared his fangs. "Dinner time."
He lunged at Charles, letting all his fury and anger out as he attacked. He bit hard, harder than was strictly necessary and felt the blood pulse as it poured over his tongue and trickled down his chin. He was making a mess, but he didn’t care. He was pissed off and someone had to pay. When he had drank his fill he stepped back, panting, and admired his work. Charles was still twitching and blood was running down his chest. Some of it had even spattered on the wall behind him.
Drusilla’s eyes were wide with delight at the sight in front of her. "Is it my turn? He looks so yummy."
"Leave him, pet," Spike said, watching the blood drip down the body and starting to pool on the floor. "Red looks good on him."
THE END
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Date: 2008-07-26 05:26 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-26 05:28 am (UTC)