“VIOLENT SHADES OF REALITY”
 

             Late last night I tripped in
             violent shades of green
             1000 voiceless faces were chasing
             m                             e
             I ran through air as thick as
             g        l          u         e
             >From a thousand fucking faces that
             all look like you
             Through night as black as hate my
             spirit fled
             Through branches filled with thorns
             my eyes bled and bled
             How could I ever hope to win this
             r        a          c         e
             when everytime I close my eyes I
             see your
             f         a          c         e
             It just can’t happen here
 

             Buffy found herself in a place between the land of the conscious and the
             realm of sleep.  Dimly feeling her body had lost its’ natural warmth she
             began to shiver.  Sleepily she burrowed closer to the body next to her,
             but instead of heat she found coolness.  Unwillingly her sleep became
             more and more elusive and wakefulness more of a threat.

             A furrow wrinkled her brow as she struggled to find sleep.  She wasn’t
             ready to face reality yet.  Sleep was what she really needed.  Drifting
             again towards the sand castles of dreams, she drowsily smiled.  Aah yes,
             sleep. It was all she needed.

             After several minutes, a dream started to form from the mist-filled
             chambers of her mind.  Buffy saw herself running through a cemetery,
             being pursued by countless vampires.  She felt as if she should turn and
             fight but instinctively she knew she couldn’t because she wasn’t strong
             enough.  Why wasn’t she strong anymore?  What happened to her strength?

             On and on she ran.  Running through her neighborhood she thought
             ‘Home!  I gotta make it to my house!’ before realizing she couldn’t put
             her mom in danger.  Miserably she ran past the security of home.  On she
             ran past the high school, briefly thinking about Giles and how he’d react
             to the news of the rising of the new Slayer.

             All the while the horde was right behind her, just a few steps back.  Not
             closed enough to catch her, but close enough that if she faltered even
             once, they would be able to pounce.

             Just when she didn’t know where she could go to elude the blood-thirsty
             pack, she found herself in a thick, mist-filled forest.  Her legs felt
             leaden and her lungs felt as if they were about to burst, but Buffy had
             to force herself to go on.  The will to live, despite seemingly
             insurmountable odds, was too strong for her to give up.

             Through the endless forest she ran, tearing past skeletal-like branches
             that tore at her clothes, jumping over ancient logs that continuously
             fell in her path, and all the while still being pursued by a ravenous
             pack.  They seemed not to lose an inch, in fact they appeared to be
             gaining speed, to be gaining power from the evil wood enclosing them all.
 

             Buffy’s sleepy smile faded away as her nightmare pressed relentlessly
             upon her.  Rolling over she unconsciously sought comfort but found
             emptiness.  Panic and terror began to overwhelm her in suffocating
             waves.  Where to go?  Where to hide?

             Just when she found herself at the edge of hysteria, an enormous
             gray-stoned castle appeared in a clearing before her.  Not even daring to
             look over her shoulder she pushed her body to the limits of endurance to
             make it up the seemingly hundreds of steps.  Finally reaching the top,
             she frantically pounded on the heavy double doors, oblivious to the
             splinters piercing her skin, sobbing because no one answered.

             While Buffy fought for entrance, the pack of demons could be heard
             scrambling up the stone steps, panting with the need for her blood.  Just
             as they reached a few feet from her and Buffy felt that seconds were all
             that were left for her, the doors suddenly opened.  Whispering a devout
             prayer of thanks she rushed in, barely slamming the doors in time.

             Just like the sudden hush of a flame being extinguished the world became
             unnaturally silent.  Collapsing against the door, she looked around to
             see where she was.  A cavernous, medieval-like room with fireplaces
             blazing on three walls greeted her sight.

             Weapons from a span of centuries were hung throughout the hall.  Katana
             swords, claymores, maces, rapiers, daggers, battle-axes, shields, and
             numerous other deadly weapons silently spoke their testament to death and
             destruction.  Looking up she saw the ceiling was at least fifty feet
             above, the beams blackened from centuries of smoke.

             Hesitatingly she walked further into the room, momentarily forgetting
             about the world outside.  The hall held the whisper of the surreal, it
             seemed like something out of a dark fantasy.  It had a timeless aura, as
             if the original occupants were still there.  Cold, black marble floors
             caused her footsteps to ring loudly as she unerringly moved towards a
             raised dais near the end of the room.

             Someone was there watching her, piercing her with his gaze, but who?  His
             features were obscured by shadow, the fire casting an unholy halo around
             the enormous throne where he sat.  She knew him, but...

             Recognition dawned upon her at the same time he stood up.  All of a
             sudden Buffy realized that she no longer felt winded, but instead felt
             very, very chilled.  Looking down she saw that she was completely nude,
             her tank-top, skirt, underclothing, shoes, were all gone.  Shock caused
             her to gasp aloud.  Mortified by her nakedness, she attempted to cross
             her arms over her body before being stopped by a commanding “NO!”

             Wanting to disobey but too frightened she meekly stood there exposed to
             his emotionless gaze.  For what seemed like hours she stood still,
             knowing without being told that this is what was expected of her.  His
             gaze licked over her vulnerable flesh.  Without touching, he touched
             her.  Without breathing, he breathed for her.  There was not one piece of
             her that he did not see.  There was not one piece of her that she wanted
             to hide.

             It always began as such for them---he pursued, she retreated, he
             conquered, she yielded.

             It was as if they were the only creatures in the world.

             The energy between them halted when as if from faraway, yet disturbingly
             close, she heard them.  Small moans of hunger and salacious desire
             rippled throughout the room.  Wildly looking around her she saw hundreds
             of pairs of glowing, yellow eyes all avidly staring at her.

             Despair crashed.  Desire broke.  Instead of fleeing to safety, she ran
             right into a den of vampires.  Bitter tears clogged her throat and
             madness filled her brain.  Crumbling to the floor she curled up into a
             protective ball.  The raging noise of the damned filled her with ugly
             dread.  She was trapped.  She was going to die.  In her heart she knew it
             to be true.

             Then she heard him come for her.  Each click of his boots as he descended
             from the dais pierced her eardrums.  As the pound of his footfalls echoed
             throughout the hall the greedy, writhing forms suddenly became
             silent.  Recoiling in fear they hugged the walls, each hoping that he
             wouldn’t call for them.

             Finally he stopped right in front of her.  Without words he commanded her
             to look at him.  Tentatively raising her head, her agonized eyes looked
             into his intensely cruel gaze.  “Angel...”

             Fury flared up in his eyes before sliding away to be hidden with his
             thoughts.  “Get up slave,” Angelus harshly barked.

             Scrambling up to her feet Buffy mentally berated herself for calling him
             Angel.  How many times had she underwent the harsh punishments of his ire
             for such an infraction?

             Angelus coldly said “When will you learn how to address your master?  Do
             you think I am anything like Angel?  Do I act like Angel?  Do I fuck you
             like Angel did?”

             “No,” she sadly whispered.

             “Then understand this:  I own you.  I am all you have Buffy, all you ever
             will have.  You are mine to keep, mine to destroy.”

             “I’m sorry.  Please...”  Anguish made her voice sound raw.  “Why do you
             hate me?  Why do always hurt me?”

             Gripping her by the back of the neck he painfully squeezed until she
             cried out.  Leaning forward until his lips were pressed against her
             temple Angelus answered “Because it pleases me.  That’s the only reason
             I’ll ever need.”

             Cries of delight resounded thoughout, cries of the damned delighting in a
             mortal’s suffering.  Whimpering in fear Buffy began to futilely struggle
             against his hold.  Great wrenching sobs caused her small frame to shudder
             as the hopelessness of her situation hit her.

             This was why she had no more power, why she couldn’t defend herself
             anymore against the undead.  It was because of Angelus and her love for
             him.  Her love had made her as weak as any normal human being.

             Instead of gloating over her fear, Angelus wrapped his arms around her
             body and murmured “Sshh, sshh, my darling little girl.  Why do you fear
             this?  Why do you fear me?  You want to be possessed, you want to be
             mine.  Your love for me is far greater than it ever was for Angel.  Why
             fight it?  Give in, give in...”

             Like a hypnotic melody Angelus’ words were echoed by numerous
             voices.  “Give in, give in, give in...”  The seductive promise in his
             words stilled her sobbing.  Dragging in great gulps of air Buffy closed
             her mind to fear, doubt, to all rational thought, and just let her body
             feel.  Like the trickle of a stream leads to the endless expanse of the
             ocean, so Buffy’s body slowly awakened to her desires.

             The entire hall sensed her arousal.  The vampires raised their chant to a
             higher pitch, chanting even faster than before.  Angelus suddenly picked
             Buffy up in his strong arms, carrying her up to the dais.  Languorously
             laying in his embrace she dimly realized that he was completely naked,
             whereas he had been clothed completely in black just a few seconds
             before.

             He carefully laid her on a crimson velvet-covered altar that appeared
             where his throne had been.  Her heavy-lidded gaze ran appreciatively over
             his smooth, pale body.  She felt as if she could die just from looking at
             his impossibly wide shoulders, sleekly muscled chest, and narrow
             waist.  It was when her gaze traveled lower that her insides
             melted.  Black, curly hair surrounded his long, thick, jutting penis, a
             penis that gave her pleasure so intense that she died a little each time
             when they came together.

             The only sign Angelus gave that he noticed her lengthy perusal was the
             arrogant light in his eyes.  Slowly he climbed onto the altar, until all
             she could see was him.  Covering her small body with his large one she
             stared down into her eyes for an indeterminable time.

             It could have been seconds, minutes, hours, days, even years, but all
             Buffy felt was the desire to fall into his gaze, never to leave his
             sight.  To always be one with him.

             And still the demons chanted for her to give in to their lord and master.
 

             Her lord and master.

             “Please...” she implored once again.

             In answer he took her mouth in a brutal, possessive kiss.  It was so
             fierce she felt her tender lip split from his assault.  This only
             heightened their passions.  Hungrily he licked her bruised and bleeding
             mouth as she panted from the exquisite pleasure and pain.  Her body
             undulated restlessly beneath him, needing him so badly.

             Angelus worked his way down her body nipping and biting her sensitive
             breasts, belly and thighs until he settled between her eagerly spread
             legs.  For several moments he gazed at her pink, pouty flesh.  Buffy was
             beyond shame, she warmed under his enraptured gaze.  Though expecting his
             most intimate kiss, she stilled cried out from the sheer ecstasy of
             having his cool tongue invade her core.

             Buffy’s hands restlessly roamed her body as her vampire lord greedily
             drank from her.  His lips repeatedly closed over her clit before pulling
             away to press hot, heated kisses on her delicate flesh.  Dimly she
             thought of what a decadent sight they made:  the fallen being willingly
             ravished by the damned.

             Angelus’ long fingers penetrated her,  working her into a frenzy as the
             feelings of his mouth, tongue, and fingers overcame her.  Madly gripping
             her fingers in his dark hair, she arched her back as her orgasm crashed
             upon her body.

             Howls of delight rose from the unholy observers, many of them by that
             point already paired off in their demonic couplings.  The entire hall had
             become an orgy of hunger and lust.

             Coming down from her little death, she looked upon the masses of moving
             flesh.  Males and females, males with other males, females with males and
             other females all taking part of every perversion known to sex, yet all
             still looking at her and Angelus.  The stares no longer filled her with
             fear and disgust.  Instead she reveled in the unbridled dementia of the
             room.  They were no longer her enemies, they had become her captive
             audience.

             Softly kissing her nether lips Angelus’ hands continued to stroke Buffy’s
             damp flesh, bringing forth another cry of delight from her
             throat.  Suddenly he raised himself up onto his knees and roughly flipped
             her unsuspecting body over.  Forcibly pulling up her hips, he rubbed his
             erection against her, listening to her breathy pants, before slamming
             into her body.

             “ANGELUS!”  Buffy’s body was caught in the throes of anguish and
             gratification.  She felt helplessly pinned by his body.  The burning pain
             of his invasion enhanced the burning desire she felt for him.  Her body
             shook from the immense force of his thrusts.  Great rasping moans tore
             from her throat as her demon pounded into her tender flesh.

             Gripping the back of her head he forced her to look up at the countless
             acts of depravity that were taking place around them.  “Look well Buffy,
             see what you have caused.  You inspire that in them.”  Each word was
             punctuated by a thrust.

             Fighting back the tears caused by the overwhelming sensations, Buffy
             thrust back against him.  Humans weren’t supposed to be like animals in
             lust, but oh god she was just like an animal.  She was just as
             animalistic with her lover as vampires were about feeding and fucking.

             Pushing her head down to the altar, he continued to slap his hips into
             the rounded globes of her ass.  “You have no power over any of us anymore
             Slayer because of this.”  His hand had reached around to cup her
             quivering flesh.  “All that matters to you anymore is fucking---with me
             or anyone else.”

             Whimpering against his words, she tried to deny it.  “No,
             I...love...you.”

             Harshly laughing at her words he raised her head up her hair again.  As
             he pulled her to him, she felt as if her back would break at any
             moment.  He spoke in her ear, contempt dripping from every word.  “Slut,
             you don’t love me.  You love this.  You’re such a fucking slut Buffy---”

             “No!  Angelus please---”

             Slamming her head back down to the altar he spoke through clenched
             teeth.  “Shut-up bitch!  I know it doesn’t matter who fucks you as long
             as you get fucked.”  His all-consuming fury went through her and touched
             everything in the dark hall.  All movement ceased and the evil horde
             watched enraptured as their lord unmercifully pounded into the
             Slayer.  Her sobs of pain and unwilling pleasure clearly resounded
             throughout.

             Bringing her body up he tightly wrapped his arms around her while
             continuing his unrelenting assault.  Lowering his head to her neck, he
             bit her like a male animal bites his mate.  Waves of white-hot pain and
             pleasure radiated throughout her body.

             Closing her eyes she blindly reached above her and entwined her arms
             around Angelus’ neck.  Slamming his body in and out of her with vampiric
             strength and speed, Angelus’ grunts of animal lust filled Buffy’s mind
             and soul.  The primeval rhythm of their mating rapidly took Buffy to the
             verge of orgasm.

             Tirelessly they moved against each other until finally they both crashed
             into orgasms.  Their cries of rapture blended with the infernal orgasmic
             joy of the undead.

             It was immoral perfection.

             Buffy leaned into his beloved embrace never wanting to leave.  However,
             he had other plans.

             Abruptly throwing her off himself and the altar, Angelus coldly spat,
             “Such passion from such a faithless, weak creature.  Let’s see how much
             passion can be squeezed out of you before you get fucked to death.  It’s
             such an undeserving mercy for you, my beautiful whore.  To die doing what
             you love---would that we were all so lucky.”

             Horror turning her insides to ice, Buffy looked up to see Angelus once
             again clothed and sitting on his throne.  Wildly looking around her she
             saw several vampires slinking closer and closer to her.

             Shamelessly gripping his leg she beseechingly looked into his impassive
             face.  Finding no mercy in his soulless eyes she brokenly screamed “How
             can you do this to me?!  Please Angelus, why are you doing this to me?!”

             Leaning forward to grip her chin he growled “Because I won’t tolerate
             your unfaithfulness you slut!  Have I been your only one Buffy?  Have I
             been the only to touch you?  To feel you?”
             Her mouth moved soundlessly, trying to summon up the lie, silently
             pleading for understanding.  “Don’t bother lying, I can see the truth in
             your eyes.  You disgust me!”  Pushing her violently down from the dais he
             unmovingly watched as several males greedily covered her flailing limbs
             with their bodies.  “These guys are my favorites Buff, these are the ones
             that I hold the most dishonor for.  Only the best for you babe.”  A
             sadistic grin twisted his lips.  “Don’t think that I never cared for
             you.”

             “Oh and Buffy, say hello to my very good friend Cynthia before you
             die.”  A luscious brunette suddenly appeared from behind the throne
             clothed in shades of midnight.  Her vivid dark beauty was unforgettable
             to Buffy.  This person had caused countless hours of pain and bitterness
             for her.  She would never forget her.

             Running his hand lightly down Cynthia’s back Angelus smirked.  “I’m sure
             you remember Cynthia, don’t you Buff?”  Lustfully gazing into her equally
             dark eyes he thickly murmured “How can anyone forget such a delicious bit
             of beauty?”

             Leaning down Cynthia captured his lips with her full, glossy red
             mouth.  Greedily they devoured each other as Buffy helplessly looked on
             with betrayal and impotent fury.  Catching her venomous glare Cynthia
             pulled back from Angelus with an evil smile on her flawless face.  “I
             definitely remember you Buffy.  Please be sure to know that I’ll take
             much better care of Angelus than you ever could.”

             Indescribable torture wracked her body as the first of countless vampires
             ripped into her.  Buffy mentally shut down as she thought of her ultimate
             failure:  to fall in love with a demon, a thing from deepest pits of
             hell.  She had been right, she was going to die that night.  But she died
             from the desolation of his deadly faithlessness.

             The last thing she heard was Cynthia’s bright, tinkling laughter and
             Angelus’ cheerful request of “Oh lover, do me a favor.  Tell Angel I said
             hi, and let him know that the world is a much worse place without him.”

             Shooting straight up in her bed Buffy wildly looked around to assure
             herself it had been just a nightmare.  She saw nothing out of the
             ordinary.  Everything must have been a dream, even Angelus finding
             her.  Ruthlessly squashing a rush of disappointment, she took a deep sigh
             and shakily laid back down.

             Her approaching calm was short-lived when she heard his silky voice float
             towards her from the living room space.  Casually emerging from the
             darkness, he walked towards the bed.  He stopped at the foot and leaned
             against a post.  “What’s wrong baby?  Bad dreams?  Why would such a pure
             girl like you ever have anything bad to dream about?”

             Dropping his pose of studied ease he pinned her with a menacing
             stare.  “Unless, oh I don’t know, maybe you have something nagging your
             conscience.  Something like guilt.”  Throwing a stack of letters and
             photos on the bed he gave her a few moments to stare at the pile before
             snapping her attention back to him.  “Don’t bother lying.  I can see the
             truth in you eyes.  Bitch, I’m going to make you hurt like I’ve never
             done before.  And I’ll love every moment of it.”

             Threateningly making his way over to her, Buffy quickly jumped off the
             bed and landed on the other side.  Her dream took on prophetic
             reality.  Did the nightmare also foretell her death?

             Yeah, and all the resident demons of Hell would be making snow angels
             too.  She let him do alot of things to her, but death was not going to be
             one of them.  No fucking way.

             Facing each other they both stood tensely, awaiting the other’s move when
             all of a sudden a loud pounding sounded at the door.  Their gazes locked
             onto each other in surprise.  Buffy knew of only two people who would be
             out at this hour.  ‘Oh God, please don’t let them be out there.  Make
             them go away, before anything bad happens.’

             It was enough that her friends and family suffered because of Angelus,
             but she didn’t want anyone else to.  If there was a time for God to
             listen to her prayers now was the time.

             Or would her prayers fall on deaf ears, as they had every other time
             before?