Subversive

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters nor make any money off of them.


I hit the dark cell bars as hard as I could, peering into the thin moonlight that provided the only light source for where I was. I stalked around the cage like a tiger, angry and frightened at once.

“Hey!” I yelled. “Let me out of here! You can’t keep me locked up in here forever! I won’t be your prisoner forever!”

Footsteps sounded from somewhere in the distance, down a long hallway by the sound of it. I couldn’t see anyone, but I could sure smell them. It was the scent of blood and excrement and sulfur, and it was approaching. I choked on the smell, backing away from the bars to find a great empty space behind me. Whatever was on the other side of the bars, I was sure that I did not want it near me.

My feet stopped just shy of the edge of the room, where it dropped off into a long and endless chasm. I reached out and grabbed hold of the nearest object. It was something slick and I nearly released it on contact. Gasping for breath, I looked up to see dark red blood running down the length of a very long sword. I screamed as I realized I had just cut my hands to ribbons.


I opened my eyes, startled to see the lights on in my room. Glancing up at the clock, I noticed that it was nearing noon, the brightest part of the day. I blinked, trying to calm the racing of my heart that was like a long distance race in my head. Speaking of my head, I realized that I could use some Tylenol. Soon.

Wesley touched my arm and I jumped. “Are you all right, Eva? Did you have another bad dream?” His soft voice had a way of soothing me at least a little, helping to ground me when I felt as if I was about to jump off the deep end.

Taking a deep, slow breath as I managed to keep my right eye open as much as I was able. I was just thankful I could open it at all. I met Wesley’s gaze, so concerned, so compassionate and ready to jump to my aid. It had taken me a long time to realize that anyone could look at me like that and actually mean it.

“Yeah,” I said softly, retreating quickly behind my defenses. “Another nightmare.”

Wesley adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through his short brown hair, a nervous habit, although I never saw him nervous. He always seemed so sure of himself, especially around Fred. I supposed it was partially his British composure that made him so steady. He had stayed with me almost ceaselessly the past few days. The others had come in shifts. I found his presence reassuring and calming, although it did nothing to quell the nightmares.

“Well, it’s over now. Everything is as it should be, is it not?”

Such a proper Englishman. I realized it was one of the things I liked best about him.

I shrugged half-heartedly, staring at my feet poking through sandals. I was dressed in loose cotton pants and a cotton sweatshirt, ready to go home, which I would be doing just as soon as Dr. Harris stopped in to give me the official okay. My neck and throat were still bandaged, although the swelling was starting to go down. My rib cage was heavily taped up and my back was a mess of tape and mild bracing. The stitches would be in for at least a week or two, although happily the gashes were beginning to heal, or at least they weren’t gushing blood. My wrists were still bandaged slightly, and my right hand was taped up with band-aids. I looked like a partial, sloppy mummy, but I was leaving. I’d been given every shot, every antibiotic for preventative medicine they could think of. Oh, and I hadn’t had a hysterectomy. Lucky me, I guess.

Sure didn’t feel lucky. I’d felt myself falling deeper into darkness ever since I had awoken twelve days ago. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, not even to Angel or Spike. There had been no luck yet in finding Stanley Howard, and I suppose that that more than anything else had drug me down into the dark. At this point I was drowning, locked in a stupor where I shut everyone out; if they left me alone maybe it wouldn’t hurt, maybe I wouldn’t feel. If I didn’t talk about it, it wasn’t real, no matter what the injuries said. If only I could burn the memory out of my head. It still left me feeling cold and empty, no matter how many painkillers they gave me. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t even denial; it was repression and acknowledgement colliding to keep me silent and distant.

Wesley touched my arm, ever so gently. “Eva, are you sure you don’t want to tell me about it?” he asked carefully. “Or anything, for that matter. I would be more than willing to listen if you wish to simply talk. I want to help you however I am able.”

“No thanks, Wesley. No one can help me.”

A knock at the door prevented Wesley from saying whatever he had planned next. Dr. Harris entered, offering a friendly smile. “Hello, Eva. How are you feeling today?”

The question was beginning to annoy me. I wanted to shut out how I was feeling, to just be left alone and to ignore everything else around me, especially what was in my head. I said quietly, “Ready to go home now.”

He nodded and began listening to my heart, checking my vitals. “Everything’s looking good. I hear you haven’t been eating much.” He looked at me pointedly.

I blinked. “Not very hungry.”

“Well,” he said, as if preparing for a long speech. “It’s important that you try to eat more. You’ve lost quite a bit of weight, and you’ll need to keep an eye on that. I don’t want you relapsing, especially after the transfusions.”

After a moment more, he continued. “I do still recommend that you find someone to talk with, Eva. After going through something this traumatic it’s much healthier to have an outlet you can confide in.”

I nodded once, not looking at him. “Thanks, Doc. Can I go now?”

Dr. Harris sighed heavily, replacing his stethoscope around his neck. “Yes. Here are your prescriptions. You’ll want to have them filled right away. I will expect you to come in for a check up in about two weeks. In the meantime, I want you to rest. Take it easy. And eat.” He turned to Wesley. “You may need to make sure that she eats on a regular schedule. Sometimes patients feel they can do it on their own, but they tend to be stubborn.”

I bristled. Talking as if I wasn’t even there, as if I were a risk to myself.

Wesley seemed to pick up on my anxiety and quickly said, “We’ll make sure she gets back on her feet and does what she needs to take care of herself.”

“Good.”

I accepted Wesley’s assistance in helping me off the bed, grimacing from the soreness of muscles abused and then left unused for days. His grip was strong, comforting even, as he helped lower me into a waiting wheelchair. “Thanks, Doc,” I said quietly, shaking his hand.

As Wesley began pushing me out, Dr. Harris said, “Take care of yourself, Eva. We‘ll see you soon for therapy.”

I tuned everything out as we ventured down the hall. I listened to the squeaking of the wheelchair, the constant murmur of voices and the buzzing of machines as if the hospital itself was alive. The air was chilly and smelled of every combination of medicine, which made it slightly sickening. I stared straight ahead, unfeeling. It wasn’t as if I was ignoring it all; nothing seemed important. Everything was white noise and pointless.

My system was still a little groggy from the painkillers and I thought it was pulling my mind down as well as my body. As we went into the elevator, I heard Wesley ask, “Are you all right there?”

I nodded once, gripping the arms of the chair since I had nothing else to do. “Where’s Spike?”

He sighed, a small sound that I heard nonetheless. “I’m not sure. Since it’s daylight I thought that both Angel and Spike were supposed to be meeting us at the apartment. I don’t know if they were planning on meeting us up here, but I was planning on taking you home. Spike will be staying with you at your apartment, is that right?”

I shrugged. “I guess.” I winced as sharp tingles broke through my face and I touched my bandaged nose. My back and ribs were still bothering me quite a bit; sitting in the wheelchair was uncomfortable, but a marginal improvement over the debilitating hospital bed that zaps the strength from your limbs.

As we proceeded into the lobby, I blinked against the bright light. My right eye hesitated, sticking a little as I tried to keep it open. Wooziness swept over me and I swallowed back a wave of nausea. I couldn’t quite look at any of the strangers around me, yet I couldn’t help eyeing them all anxiously, paranoid. As if at any moment I would see one of the vampires who had attacked me and they would come after me again. It didn’t matter that it was broad daylight; vampires could always find a way as long as they were out of direct light.

“Don’t worry, Eva. We’re almost out of here, and then we’ll get you comfortable.”

“Hurry,” I whispered. I could see the darkness that wasn’t there, the darkness of danger that screamed at me no matter what the time of day. I was just anxious to get to my own home, where supposedly I would be safe. Safe? When he was still out there somewhere?

Wesley came to a stop as we came to the parking garage. I glanced up at him in alarm. “Wait. What--what’s going on? What are you doing?”

He stood before me and draped a necklace over me. A large cross. “Just in case,” he explained, placing a second cross around my neck. “I want to make sure you’re protected, although I don’t see much chance of anything happening now.” He took out a vial of holy water and splashed some of it all over me. I startled from the cold water. He pressed the rest of the vial into my hand. “Hang on to this.”

When he had finished, Wesley once again began wheeling me through the parking garage. I clutched my bag and the vial tightly, looking around. It was reasonably well lit, especially during the day, although we were on a lower level of the garage. There were shadows everywhere, hiding places for the dark and deviant creatures of hell to come from. Lots of cars. Being out in the open was extremely intimidating. I wanted to hold my breath and close my eyes until it was over.

At last Wesley brought me to a stop beside a blue town car. He hurriedly unlocked the door, then reached for my bag and set it inside.

“Wesley?”

He paused. “Yes?”

“Why do you seem to be in such a hurry?”

He blinked, his glasses reflecting the yellow lights around us. Extending a hand to help me move, he replied, “If the vampires who attacked you are still around, I think we both would prefer as expedient a departure as possible. Don’t you?”

I nodded, accepting his hand and moving wearily into his car. It smelled faintly of musk and sulfur. I decided I didn’t want to know why. The soft leather of the seats was cool and cushy, a refreshing seat from everything else. It almost made me forget how stiff I felt and how tense I was becoming with every moment.

As Wesley jumped in the driver’s side and started the car, I reached over to buckle my seatbelt. I looked up for one second, and in that second my heart stopped. The vampiric face of the scruffy man, Stanley Howard, the Carver, was grinning at me with bared fangs. He stood just a few feet from the car, stretching his muscled arms. That second ended as he swung forward and the window broke in a deafening crash.

I screamed and threw my arms up in defense. Wesley yelped. An arm came through the open window and grabbed my shoulder. I screamed again and struck out at the arm grabbing at me. He pressed harder. I raised my other hand and threw the vial of holy water at him.

He howled and released me, smoke rising from his body. As I stared at him in horror, I saw how his face was burnt, deep gashes carved out of his flesh from the water, and there was a smoking imprint of a cross on his hand. He scowled at me, tilting his head to the side as he growled.

“Wesley, drive!” I shouted.

Wesley fumbled to put the car in gear. As he began to accelerate, a second vampire appeared and broke out the window behind Wesley. He startled and I looked back to see the vampire holding the wheelchair. It was the one with the wife beater. A cold, sick line of fear poured down my spine. I couldn’t breathe. I was struggling to keep conscious as images raced across my mind.

Before Wesley could punch the gas again Stanley Howard grabbed the door and pulled. In a shower of glass and whining metal the door ripped off its hinges and he tossed it aside as if it were paper. He turned towards me with a maniacal laugh.

I leaned over Wesley and stomped on his foot. We lurched forward. “Goddammit, just go!” I shrieked.

“Hold on!” he shouted as we skidded forward and around a corner. My heart was hammering against my chest. I turned around to see Stanley cutting across the lot, preparing to dive towards us. I clutched the seat with white knuckles, my blood pounding in my ears. I was a moment away from rocking back and forth while muttering to myself.

“Wesley,” I whimpered, grabbing his arms with my nails. I looked up just in time to see a third vampire running directly towards us with something large in its hands. “Oh, no…”

The car lurched as the vampire and whatever he held hit the windshield. I covered my head with one hand, struggling to keep a grip on my seat. I dug my feet against the floorboard to steady myself and I could feel sharp pains rush through my back and ribs, and I knew that I had torn my stitches, opening the wounds. I braced myself as the car hit the wall, coming to a screaming halt. My head bounced forward, whiplash threatening to make me vomit.

Wesley grabbed my arm. I looked at him. He had a long cut on his head and blood was running thickly down his face. Out of breath, he began to say something, when his eyes widened and he shouted, “Eva--NO!”

I glanced over my shoulder just as Stanley Howard grabbed my arm. I screamed, hanging on to Wesley as best I could. He easily ripped me away, dragging me out of the car screaming. I struggled and cried out at the top of my lungs as I scraped over glass and metal, tearing open my pants and skin beneath it. I reached out to try to strike at him but I couldn’t touch him. My arms weren’t long enough,

Stanley laughed and grabbed my neck. He began to smoke again. He frowned and looked down. The drops of holy water were falling on his hand and he was just about to touch one of the crosses. “Damn crosses,” he snarled, jerking away.

Gasping for breath I looked over at Wesley. He was trapped in the car, pinned. Faltering I began to move away, unsure of where to go but knowing I had to go, go, just get away from there.

“Eva, just go!” Wesley shouted. “Get out of here!”

Stumbling, I began to move.

A fist hit my face, knocking me sprawling to the ground. I choked on blood and lack of oxygen. My head broke into a screaming headache. I swallowed hard, tears filling my eyes as every bone in my body jarred.

The hand grabbed my throat and pulled me to my feet. I was choking as he held me up to examine me. He scowled at me, staring at the crosses. With a growl he tore them off me in one quick move, though he burned his hand in the process. Turning back to me he smiled grotesquely.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, peering at me with his deformed face. “I knew I’d lost my meal somewhere, and now here you are, all ripe for the picking. Healed up some, have you? Not for long, sweetheart.” He bared fangs at me, leaning in close enough that I could smell he had already fed on someone. I clawed at his hand but couldn’t move him, couldn’t pry his fingers off of me. He tore off the bandages around my neck and threw them aside, leaning in to smell my wounds.

He laughed, a low sound of amusement. “You smell afraid. You know, I had big plans for you before. You were gonna be a real piece of work, but that son of a bitch pet vamp of yours had to go and spoil it all.” He squeezed a little.

Black spots were forming in my vision. There wasn’t enough air. I sputtered, desperate for a clean draw of breath as he held me up so my feet dangled helplessly above the ground.

He touched my face, drawing a grimy finger down my cheek and making me shake. “Remember how it felt with me inside you? How I just got inside you from every way and fucked you like a little bitch?” He made a low growl, his face inches from mine. “Too bad we can’t do it again. Looks like I’m just gonna have to settle for a quick meal. Don’t worry, baby. I can make you scream all over again.”

Baring fangs, he tore into my neck.

I screamed as he fed.

He latched onto me like a rottweiler, hard, brutal, and draining me as quickly as he could. I was losing feeling in my toes, my legs, my fingers. I made feeble attempts to slap at him but it was worthless. My eyes rolled back into my head as my heart sped up, then began to slow down in the way that only impending death can make it.

All of a sudden he pulled back with a growl. I was limp, looking down to see an arrow piercing his back. He lowered me to the ground as he turned around while keeping his grip on my throat. I moved my arms uselessly.

“What the…” he stared. I saw Angel holding a crossbow and reloading it. Spike was striding forward rapidly with a large axe in his hands. His face was twisted in focused rage, his eyes burning as if the fire of hell was residing there.

“You!” Stanley roared. He began clutching my throat tightly again. I gasped, drool sliding down my face. “You best stop there, boy. The closer you come, the worse it’s gonna get.”

“You got that one right,” Spike snarled.

A second arrow caught him in the throat. He stumbled and released me. I fell to the ground in a limp pile, curled up in a minor fetal position. I forced myself to roll away, at least a little as I coughed explosively and tried to blink away the black stars that were still in my vision.

“Eva, move!”

I tried to roll further away but I could barely crawl, barely reach out into space. I glanced up to see the vampire in the wife beater suddenly approaching. Angel ran forward and knocked him to the ground. The vamp leapt up and knocked the crossbow from Angel’s hands and landed a solid punch to Angel’s face, knocking him backwards. Angel shifted into his demonic face and snarled. He grabbed the vampire with both hands and threw him onto the top of a car. The vampire tried to get up but Angel twisted his arm. He pulled a stake from his coat and drove it into the vampire’s chest. With a howl the vampire burst into a cloud of ash.

I was shaking and couldn’t stop, still trying to regain the ability to breathe. I watched as Spike dove for Stanley, wielding the axe expertly. He attacked with a ferocity I had never seen in him before. He back handed the vampire, knocking him down with the axe handle. Stanley rolled out of reach and kicked Spike in the chest, sending him staggering backwards.

“You know I’m gonna kill you,” Stanley taunted, moving in a slow arc towards me. “And I’m just gonna take your girl and pick up where I left off. By the time I’m done with her, there won’t be enough left to fill a shoebox.”

Spike glowered at him, gripping the axe more tightly. The curved double sides glinted menacingly as it moved through the air, as if it were itching to be buried in something. “Wouldn’t be too sure about that, mate,” he answered, staring hard at the vampire. “You’ll have a right hard time of getting to her once I’ve got hold of you.”

Stanley laughed, a sharp, twisted sound that sent chills down my back. “Well, that’s just about enough to make me stop. You’re just foolin’ yourself, man. She’s just a little whore, and I’m gonna do what whores get. Did she tell you she liked it?” He grinned, watching Spike’s face with malicious glee. “Did she tell you how she screamed for me? Oh, I forget. You got to watch me fuck your bitch.”

The air seemed to crackle with the restrained power that was leaking from the vampires. I could hardly look at Spike as he growled, his face turning demonic. His voice was filled with imminent rage as he said, “I’m the one who goes home with her, regardless of what you’ve done to her. Now that you’re here, though, you won’t be going anywhere else. Every single thing you did to her you’re going to feel as I tear you limb from bloody limb and show you what I’m doing.”

“Big talk. Let’s see if you can handle the real deal.”

He lunged and struck out at Spike, missing both time. Spike spun around and struck once, deflected his next blow, and swung the axe. It barely missed Stanley, giving him the opportunity to grab Spike by the neck and driving him into a car hood. Dazed, Spike was then thrown several car lengths down and finally rolled to a stop.

When Spike looked up he was glaring so heatedly it made me cringe. It was the full force of demonic hatred focusing on one point. He stood up quickly, ready as ever as the vampire approached him.

Stanley Howard paused and looked at me, his mouth widening in a sick grin. I swallowed hard and started to back away, fear roiling inside me. He tilted his head and stepped towards me. “Aw, don’t you worry darlin’,” he said. “I haven’t forgotten about you at all. Just lookin’ at you brings back good memories. I think maybe your boyfriend would like to see me inside you again. Last time must’ve made him so hot, so how about we show him again? Only this time, I‘m gonna turn you into one of us, and you‘ll be my bitch forever.” He lunged for me.

I screamed and threw myself backwards just as Spike tackled him with a deafening roar, rolling them both away from me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Angel beating the shit out of the third vampire, hardly letting up for a moment. I felt helpless, paralyzed. I couldn’t move anymore, could barely breathe. I looked up to see Spike throwing Stanley through a windshield and beating him mercilessly. He reached behind him and grabbed a bottle, dumping the contents on the vampire. Stanley screamed, steam hissing up from his body. He kicked Spike away, tearing himself out of the shards of glass and quickly rolling away.

Spike spun around and brought the axe down, where it clunked into the car hood. Stanley snarled and struck out, obviously disoriented, but was able to hit Spike in the back and the side, sending him sprawling to the ground. He reached down and grabbed Spike by the throat, fingers tightening with every moment. Spike gasped and snarled, swinging his legs before landing a solid kick to Stanley’s kneecap. Stanley howled and dropped, releasing Spike and allowing him to spring to his feet. Spike grabbed Stanley’s arm, set a knee to his back, and pulled as hard as he could. A sickening snap and squelching sound filled the air, followed by a murderous howl. A moment later there came a thick wet sound like tearing wet carpet off a sticky floor. A scream.

I covered my mouth, my stomach dropping out as I saw Spike holding up the vampire’s left arm. I froze, unable to scream or to move. It was just there and I couldn’t stop looking at it.

Tossing the arm aside Spike grabbed the vampire’s throat and jerked him around. “I told you, you sodding shit,” he snarled. “I will take you apart limb from limb before I let you touch her again. Now I’ve started with just the one, but I’m not feeling ready to stop there. Not until we’ve gotten a few things cleared up.”

He reached for the axe and held it to the vampire’s throat as Angel approached. He held out a long chain, dangling it at his side. I scooted back until I leaned against the car. I wanted to help Wesley, but I couldn’t look away, couldn’t stand up. I was rooted to one spot and couldn’t move.

Spike backhanded Stanley, then grabbed him and slammed him into a sitting position on top of the car. “Angel.” The one word was a command, one that would not be disobeyed and they both knew it.

Angel tossed out the chain, holding one end himself. Together they chained the snarling vampire to the car, making certain that he could not break through it. The look on Angel’s face was hideous, an enraged calm that was channeled into what he was doing and there was almost a tangible heat
coming off his body that I could feel from my position on the ground. As Stanley threw himself against the chains, Angel backhanded him, then grabbed his hair.

“Fight all you want,” he said, voice even and deadly as a blade. “There’s no way you’re coming out of this undamaged. You think it‘s a good time to rape women, to kill them and bring them back just for your fun? We‘ll see how much fun you think it is now.”

The vampire howled, still struggling. “You think you can hold me?” he snarled. “What do you think you’re gonna do, boy?”

Angel chuckled humorlessly. “This.” He punched the vampire in the face, over and over again until blood dotted the car and Angel’s clothes.

When he let up, Spike turned to Stanley. “You,” he snarled, bending over the vampire with a long blade. “You deserve nothing--” slash -- “less”-- slash-- “than what--” slash-- “you did--” slash-- “to her. I will make sure that you feel everything that you did.”

He paused, leaning in close. “You’re just a baby. You think you know what pain is, what torture is? Meet the blokes that invented it. See, you hurt my girl. She‘s asked me to show you what torture really is, and believe me, mate, it‘s my pleasure to grant her wish.”

I couldn’t see what happened as both men bent over the form. The vampire’s screams echoed throughout the parking garage. I covered my ears as my skin began to crawl. I remembered his voice, his touch, every bit of him. I squeezed my eyes shut, my entire body beginning to shake. If I listened beyond his screams I could hear my own in my head.

Glass crunched beside me. I jumped, shrieking and throwing myself to the side as I prepared to fly for my life.

“Eva, Eva! It’s all right, it’s just me.”

I looked up, panicked, to see Wesley crouching down beside me, reaching out to the car to steady himself. Blood was running down his face, his glasses lopsided on his face. He looked from me to where Angel and Spike were torturing the vampire.

“Are you all right?” he asked, touching my shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

I blinked, staring at him for a moment, uncomprehending. He tilted my head and looked at my neck. “God,” he grimaced. “He’s torn open your neck.” He tore a piece of fabric from his shirt and pressed it to my wound. “You’ve lost a lot of blood again. You may need another transfusion.”

I turned my gaze back to the mess at the car. The vampire was screaming. Spike was yelling. There were more squelching sounds and I knew something horrible was happening. For a moment I wondered why no one else had entered the garage, why no one had called the police.

Wesley took my arm, slowly pulling me to my feet. “Come on, Eva. I’ll get you out of here. We need to have you taken care of before you bleed to death.”

Standing on shaky legs I shook my head. “No,” I said, voice shaking. I needed to stay. I had to hear, had to see what was happening to the creature that had taken my innocence.

“Eva, please. You need medical attention, and there’s nothing you can do here.” His voice was firm and pleading.

Spike’s voice carried over the screams and the flailing of limbs against the car. “…Like that? You think that’s what she felt when you did this?” A loud crack filled the air.

Angel said, “See, you never had the time to really understand what torture is. I learned all about it when I was young. All these women, all the men that you’ve hurt, they can’t hurt anymore. But you can.”

I watched them, saw Stanley’s legs twitching and kicking. I began moving forward very haltingly, as if I could hardly bare to move but it was no longer in my control.

“Eva,” Wesley began.

“Help me over.”

He sighed heavily, and I felt his gaze on my face. “They know what they’re doing, Eva. There’s no need for you to go over there.”

Swallowing hard and coughing against the pain, I winced. “I need to see it,” I said through clenched teeth. “I want to--see him suffer.”

After a few moments, Wesley took my arm and began guiding me over. “I don’t think this is a good idea. You have no idea what they’re capable of, what you may see.”

My face was aching. My lips were puffy and stiff, cracked and bleeding. I could still taste blood in my mouth. My neck was killing me, aching. My nose was bleeding. Looking at the vampire chained to the car, hearing his screams, it sparked a rage inside of me, warming the cold pit that had been living inside of me for days. The warmth helped, it was something to fill the emptiness.

As I stood in front of the car I stared at the scene before me. Angel stood on the left side, one hand yanking Stanley’s head back and the other was covered in blood. Spike was digging in the vampire’s belly, blood flowing everywhere. His coat was splattered with it. Stanley’s face was nearly beaten in, his eyes barely slits in his face a mask of red and purple. His bare chest was a mass of torn flesh, and I thought I saw ribs. His missing arm lay on the ground, abandoned and forgotten.

Something turned in my stomach. I frowned. Deep down I knew I should be appalled, horrified by the scene and what they were doing. I should have turned away and run screaming. Mass torture was not something I was accustomed to seeing. And yet… it was gratifying. It felt right, like pure and clean justice. After what he had done to me, what he had planned to do to me, this seemed well deserved, and maybe even a shadow of what he really deserved. I didn’t have a mind for torture. I couldn’t have imagined this kind of stuff.

As Spike pulled his hand out I saw something glinting faintly in the dark blood, something metallic although I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. I thought for a moment that it might have been wire. Or perhaps a cross. I gasped slightly, transfixed. Angel looked up. He froze when he saw me, his intense concentration breaking into a blink of recognition.

“Spike,” he said, and nodded in my direction.

Spike turned. His eyes locked on me and he startled, his face in human form. I hadn’t expected that. I had expected the demonic. “Eva. Love, just stay back, all right? You don’t need to see this. Just let us handle this.”

I stared at him for a moment, blinking. I felt cold inside, despite the rage that had sparked inside of me. It was only getting worse, threatening to swallow me whole. “I didn’t need any of it,” I said helplessly. “I didn’t want any of it. But it still happened… It still all destroyed me.”

He sighed, a flash of compassion marring the violence in his face. “Baby, I know. I also know that you wanted torture. I just don’t think you need to watch.” He shook off a hand and blood sprayed the floor.

“Wesley,” Angel said. “Can’t you get her out of here? Take her back inside the hospital?”

“I tried. She wanted to come over and watch.”

All I could see was the vampire, Stanley Howard, cut open and in excruciating pain. He was staring at me even though he was barely able to open his eyes. I could still feel him, his fangs tearing into me, his nails slicing strips of flesh from my body, his ungodly cock violating and splitting me, damaging me forever.

Swallowing hard, I moved out of Wesley’s grasp and clutched my arms tightly. My legs were reluctant to work, but I forced myself forward. The drugs in my system had long since faded away and I felt the splitting pain that was running from my neck all the way down my back. I felt the cuts on my legs and arms, new wounds mixing with old wounds. No matter how much blood there was, it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. The thought wasn’t rational, it wasn’t me, but it was true.

I moved beside Spike at a limp, staring down at the mess without looking away. Spike touched my arm gently, trying to move me back. “Eva, you sure you want to be here? Is this what you want?”

I met his eyes. He was looking at me intently, searching my face. I nodded slowly.

“All right then.” He grit his teeth, shaking out his shoulders and taking a breath. Turning back to Stanley, he grabbed the vampire’s hair and turned his face towards me. “Now I want you to look at her. Look at this girl and remember what you did. She is why you are where you are now. Every mark, every touch that you did to her is what you’ve gotten back. I know what you were planning. I know that you were going to bloody ruin her. She will live on, she’ll be beautiful. She’ll always be beautiful. But you…” He leaned in closer. “Let’s just say you won’t be winning any contests. I could always finish up, let you die now, crush this spike through your head. But what’s the hurry? They didn’t call me William the Bloody for nothing.”

Stanley hacked and coughed, moaning as his chest heaved. He was barely recognizable now. But I knew him. I probably always would. I looked down to see the axe lying on the hood of the car. The blade itself had very little blood on it, as if it hadn’t been used, only left in the splatter. It seemed to be singing to me, willing me to pick it up and use it. My blood was pounding in my ears in a way it never had before. I could feel energy prickling at my fingertips, chasing away the black stars and giving me a surge of invigoration.

“Baby?”

I reached forward slowly and picked up the axe. It was heavier than what I thought, the handle worn and battle-weary, but it was well taken care of. God only knew how old it really was. I had to use both hands to keep it steady as I tested its weight, letting it fill me. Strangely enough it felt good to hold, if not a little unbalancing. I felt powerful, vengeful.

My eyes flicked to Stanley again and fell on his crotch. Hatred surged through me in a blast of powerful emotion. Painful memories that my body was reacting to, my lower body screaming in pain as I felt the shadow of what had happened. I hated him, hated what he had done, and what he had planned to do. Nothing could compare to the complete violation that he had done with the one thing every man had in common. He had destroyed me, destroyed what I had come to appreciate and love as intimate.

I heard his taunting laugh in my ears, his hands on me. I could see the lust of sadism in his eyes.

Hefting the axe, I pulled it up behind me in a high upswing. Spike jumped away from me. I felt myself scream as I lowered the blade in a rush. It stuck in his crotch. Blood sprayed my face as he screamed and his body went rigid. I jerked to pull it out, but the blade resisted, only pulling out when I tore it out with a sickening sound. Hefting the axe in both hands again, I seethed with cold fury. He was all I could see, all that was in front of me. Hatred coursed through me like blood, filling and replenishing me and giving me strength unlike anything I’d ever had.

I paused, staring at his chest. There was a gaping hole there, a messy darkness that was red and black and transfixing. I could see inside of him, bloody, frozen in death but still appearing to give him life. Just there… it had to be his heart. My eyes flicked over his face. He was out of it, probably on the verge of a coma, or whatever the hell vampires got. It took a lot to kill a vampire unless you did it quickly. The boys were taking their own sweet time. It occurred to me that I could do a lot of things. I didn’t have to depend upon Angel or Spike to do the dirty work for me. There lay my assailant, the monster, at my mercy now. He was writhing in pain, but the world was white noise, everything boiling down to just him and me and pain.

Raising my eyes slowly as I adjusted to the soundlessness I saw Angel talking to me, but I couldn’t hear anything, not even the wind rushing through the garage. White noise, total and all encompassing.

You don’t have to do this.

Yes I do. I’ll never be free if I don’t take some responsibility. It’s mine.

Let her have her revenge. It’s her right. She deserves to do what she wants.

It’s too much for her. She’ll break.

No I won’t. I’m already broken.

I let the axe slip from my fingers and fall to the hood of the car, into the puddles of blood. I raised my splattered hand. I was trembling, but I was also focused. I had all the time in the world to make my decision and act upon it.

My eyes met Stanley’s. As broken as he was, as damaged and on the brink of death, he managed a smirk. I could see laughter there, resistance and sick humor, as if he were pondering what he would do to me next. He wasn’t trembling as much as before. His lips moved and his voice echoed in my head. “Little girl plays big,” he gasped out. Suddenly he spit at me. Blood and saliva hit my cheek. I jumped, startled as Spike hit him and his head snapped back.

I could feel a part of myself snap and break. My face twitched into a snarl. “Motherfucker,” I hissed.

I thrust my hand inside his chest. He groaned, body arching and his legs kicking wildly, spasmodically. Angel held down his body so he couldn’t move anymore. I dug my way into his flesh, warm and cold, growing colder, past flesh and bone, deeper until I was drowning in gore. The putrid smell of innards choked my nostrils, but I delved in deeper relentlessly. I knew it was there, just past the skin and bone, past the remaining duties for the night.

Then I found it. It was slick, almost pulsing against my hand, very wet and strangely warm, even though it hadn’t been used in a very long time. Something like satisfaction crept through me. I gripped the muscle hard and stared into Stanley’s face until he was all I could see and I was all he could see. He was choking, struggling to reach me.

“No,” the garbled noise was distinguishable enough from the rest of his pain-filled noises. “Don’t…p-please…”

Begging. I had reduced him to begging. There was something satisfying in that knowledge, although it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside of me. If anything it made it worse.

I blinked, meeting his gaze. I felt my heart beating quietly and quickly, adding to the white noise surrounding me. I was completely detached, almost watching through someone else’s eyes. Tears fell down my cheeks, scorching my cold flesh. “No mercy,” I said softly. “Just fun.”

I pulled as hard as I could. My arm came flying out of his chest, fingers gripping his heart tightly. His mouth opened in surprise just before he deteriorated, each feature disappearing as he exploded in a cloud of dust, filling my nostrils and slowly blowing away as if he had never even existed.

Gone. He was just gone.

I looked at the wet heart filling my hand, struggling to beat, and then I realized it was actually heavy. Suddenly it too exploded into ash, and all I was left with was a hand dripping with heavy, red blood. I stared at the liquid, watching it fall away and each drop sounded like thunder. I could feel it running down my face, cooling with each moment and staining my skin.

All the sound came back in a rush and bombarded me. The pounding of my heart, the whisper of the wind running through the garage, the voices of the men around me. I flinched, startled by the intensity of it. Trembles ransacked my body all the way down to my toes and wouldn’t stop.

Just as I felt myself beginning to slide towards the ground, Spike grabbed my arms. “Eva.” He helped lower me down before I fell, leaning against the car to keep me upright. He knelt in front of me, hands on my arms. “Eva. You all right?”

I stared blankly at him, eyes hurting with the tears that were burning to come out in a flood. He was looking at me with a slight frown, eyes focused and concerned. I felt empty and white, hanging in the balance somewhere between living and dying. Glancing up at the car and the blood still running down the sides and gathering in pools on the ground, I knew that I had crossed a line. I had gone somewhere I had never been before, and I had broken something, created something scary. There was a dark hole that I had just stepped into and it threatened to swallow me whole.

Looking at Spike again I saw his face etched in worry, brow furrowed and eyes still on me. There were flecks of blood on his skin and in his hair, marring his pale visage in a startling contrast. He was like a stranger to me, beautiful and horrible, terrifying and vengeful, concerned and compassionate, in front of me but a million miles away. I knew he was touching me but I couldn’t feel it.

I could hardly breathe. My chest felt as if it were about to explode like a balloon. The emptiness inside me was starting to give way to a torrent of emotion. I felt it coming like a tidal wave, knew it was going to overwhelm me and I knew that I was powerless to stop it. I wanted to run. I had to outrun it. I couldn’t let it take me away.

I fought to stand up, but Spike held me down and kept a firm grip on my arms. “Woah, there, love. What are you doing? You need to sit down.”

Shaking my head violently I struggled against him, his fingers like pincers on my arms. “No,” I gasped, willing my body to get up and move. “I have to go, I have to move…”

“You’re not,” Spike said firmly, keeping a tight hold of my arms and leaning over me to keep me down. “You need to sit here. You’re safe now, Eva, let me take care of you. The last thing you need to be doing is to be running all over the place.”

I slammed my head against the car, hardly aware of the ache it produced. I managed to get myself half-standing before Angel and Wesley came running forward. “No,” I whimpered. “You’ve got to let me go. Please, just let me go…”

“No,” Spike said softly, pinning my arms against his chest and forcing me to continue staring up at him. We were so close I could see every pinpoint of blood, felt the muscles working in his chest and arms. I felt claustrophobic.

“Eva, calm down,” Angel said, moving closer slowly. “You just went through something very traumatic. It’s hard, I know. Just calm down a second, honey, let’s get you sitting down.”

Pain of unreal proportions began to crash over me in hard-hitting waves, stealing the breath from my chest. It was my last chance to get away, to try and run away from it. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want any of it. I couldn‘t face the pain, the images, the feelings of it all.

“NO!” I screamed. I snapped inside, again.

I jerked myself upwards, bringing Spike with me. Throwing my arms up I kicked Spike in the chest and sent him staggering backwards. I spun and stumbled out of his grasp, trying to run towards the distant exit and the bright sunlight shining through. Wild desperation made me falter. Angel reached out for me and I fought, slapping at his grasping hands. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!”

He wrapped his arms around me in a tight bear hug and lifted me off the ground until my legs were flailing in the air. “Eva, stop, listen! Just stop for a second!”

“Let me go!” I screamed, struggling against his strong arms.

“Angel, let her go!” Spike said.

Hesitantly Angel loosened his grip. I slid down under his arms and fell to the ground. Clawing at the pavement I stumbled into a half-crawl, unable to get back to my feet immediately. Everything in my body was screaming in pain, telling me to either run or collapse and embrace my horrors. I pushed myself, halfway to my feet. Tears were choking my throat. I couldn’t let them out because then it would all be real again, it would all be true.

Arms grabbed me tightly. I shrieked, turning and twisting in Spike’s grip. I howled and screamed, struggling to get away as he said my name over and over again. Trapped. I had to face my demons. Denial. No, had to stop.

Suddenly I looked at my hands and something clicked. The blood was dark and thick, falling in droplets to the ground and staining my skin. I could feel it on my face then, the stains dripping down my skin. And inside I felt a sense of horror that had been hiding the knowledge of taking a life with my bare hands. Even though the body was gone and technically hadn’t been alive anyway, I had still taken out his heart. Me. Just me. I had reached into his gaping chest and pulled out his heart.

I stopped struggling as true horror began slipping over me. I could feel his fangs tearing at me, willing to rip me to pieces and drain me dry. I could feel him violating me with a malicious pleasure that had rooted itself under my skin and send little messages into my brain.

A whimper escaped my lips as I stopped struggling and began to see, really see what had happened.

He had taken me in every possible way. He had taken what made me a woman and what made me alive and twisted it. He had done it with such disregard and perverted pleasure, and he was going to do it again. He would have, without a doubt.

Tears slipped down my cheeks and I began to shake, slowly at first, then violently until it was uncontrollable. The air was poisoning me, filled with the stench of blood and sweat and fouler things invading my nostrils. Sobs. I choked as I began to sob without restraint. My chest was aching with the power that had built itself up over the past week and now the waves were beginning to take me, to encompass me without reservation. I sagged like a doll, Spike’s arms being the only stable thing to keep me from falling on my face.

I screamed, not in frustration or anger, but from grief: pure, unfiltered grief. It came out long and tortured, burning all the way out. I couldn’t scream enough to get it all out, it was so deep inside of me. My legs buckled under me and I felt Spike lower me to the ground to sit, broken and limp. I bent over, tears burning my face and my throat. My body was heaving, unable to keep up with the intensity of what was happening. I was still weak from the first attack, degraded by the second, and now completely detached from the reality of what I’d done. I was as deranged as he had been.

Montages of blood and fear rolled over the backs of my eyes. Flashes of silver blades and glistening fangs. I could feel the bruises, the marks, the wounds, the tears in my flesh. I felt them as sharply and deeply as if they were burning and had opened up all over again. I saw him coming for me, saw him standing over me and tearing me apart. I saw my blood spilling onto the floor in an ever extending circle of gore.

I was rocking back and forth, staring at the ground. I found Spike’s arms still around me and I clutched at him, nails digging through his coat. I was sightless, could have been formless if I hadn’t felt such pain radiating through every pore until it reached the limit of my flesh, trapping it inside of me. Rivers were falling, threatening to devour me, but I couldn’t stop them. All I could do was let them take me away.

Weak. I was so weak, and I knew it. The world knew it too, or he would have never attacked me and won. I was a snack, a plaything. He’d known that. Now I was a broken toy. All I wanted was for the earth to swallow me whole and make it end. Maybe then the pain would stop. I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. Death could be release, something to make me still and quiet and unfeeling.

Then I realized I was clinging to death. Death still walked, still felt, still acted and thought and loved. Strangely enough, Death wasn’t much different than me. The realization made everything sink a little lower. After all, if death was the same damn thing, then what the hell was the point?

I felt Spike pull me against him so my face rested against his chest. His arms held me tightly, unwilling to let me fall away, to let me run anymore. I couldn’t turn away, I just leaned against him as the sobs became a little quieter but still tore through my body. Beneath the quaking tremors I felt exhaustion threatening to overtake me.

He was stroking my hair, humming quietly so his chest vibrated against my cheek. There was something soothing about the tune, something that was breaking through the mindless darkness around me. I couldn’t place it. At least it was strong enough to get through the screaming static that was filling my head.

Whimpers were replacing the sobs. I stared at the garage through heavy tears, my mind refusing to digest anything else, like why there was still so much blood with no body, or why no police had arrived. I couldn’t comprehend, as if I were still stuck with only white noise to surround me. Suddenly I realized that I was cold. No, not cold. Freezing. Ice. I couldn’t move my hand to touch my skin, but I also knew the numbness was growing.

Swallowing with great difficulty I shut my eyes, struggling to breathe evenly. It was quiet now. I was quiet. Spike’s tune was still humming in my ears, comforting. I wasn’t sure I wanted comfort, wasn’t sure I wanted anything but to grieve. But I was tired, so very tired of crying and hurting and running. I wanted it to stop now.

“Come on, love.” Spike’s voice startled me, even though it was barely above a whisper. “Let’s go home.”

I didn’t have the strength to object, but I also couldn’t move on my own. Spike seemed to sense this and gently helped me stand. The world was fuzzy and I felt dizzy all of a sudden. Spike pulled me close and lifted me off my feet, holding me like a doll close to his body. I blinked and saw Angel and Wesley approach. Their faces were trying to be blank, but when I saw their eyes I saw infinite horror, pain, commiseration, pity.

Angel said quietly, “Come on. We’ll take my car.”

Wesley glanced at me, then looked back at Angel. “She may need to see a doctor. Her wounds are open and she‘s lost a lot of blood.”

“We’ll figure something out, Wes.”

I felt very small and light, almost invisible. Spike had no trouble carrying me. Without another word we moved as one. I cast a glance once more to the glistening pool of blood. It looked black to me. No bodies. Not even the ash of his body remained anymore; the wind had taken care of that. As Spike stooped to slide me into the back seat of Angel’s car, I realized that I couldn’t feel anything else. I never wanted to again. Emptiness was my fate.

The car doors closed and Spike was nestled beside me, holding me close. My chest was tight and black dots were sparkling across my vision.

“I can’t see,” I whispered, and let myself go down the long dark tunnel that had reached out for me.