Long Hard Road out of Hell

Title: Long Hard Road Out of Hell
Author: claudia6913
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: W/A
Summary: Angel’s feelings and what thoughts he can have. This is a response to Gabrielle’s ‘Willow/Angel Challenge’ on NHA Forums.
Distribution: Vampyre Haven, NHA, SoG, TSFA, and anywhere else I post. All others just ask and you shall receive.
Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own the characters. Those are owned by Joss and Co. I seek no profit from the use of anything here.
Warning: This fic is now extremely graphic in nature. Please be warned.
Feedback: Of course! ghoztstarz@yahoo.com
Author’s Notes: The title was taken from the song ‘Long Hard Road out of Hell’ by Marilyn Manson from the ‘Spawn’ soundtrack.

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Chapter 6

Trying not to smile at his luck, Angel looks at her as she makes her way to him. ‘Just a little closer,’ he thinks, ‘then she will be within my grasp. Free, free to make them pay.’

Willow steps a little closer and Angel makes his face a mask of confusion. She gets down on one knee to be eye level with him. Studying him, she reaches out a hand tentatively, letting it hover just centimeters above his cheek. Looking into his eyes, she sees the brief flicker of recognition that she’s been looking for since she found him. A huge smile breaks out on her face and she throws herself into his arms.

“Oh Angel!” she cries. “I knew you’d remember. Oh, it’s so good to have you back.”

‘Perfect,’ he thought as he enfolds her in his arms. “Willow,” he says tentatively, and she nods enthusiastically, still holding him. His grip firms and he stands with her still in his arms.

‘Take her,’ the strange voice says, the one that sounds so much like himself. ‘Take her and make her pay.’ The plan forms in the still somewhat hazy mind of Angel as he starts to move with Willow still in his arms. Atst sst she is unaware of their movement, being so caught up in the moment, but then she sees they are moving towards the stairs and tries to let go. Realization hits her, hard and fast.

“Angel, let me go,” she says, pushing at his chest. Fear starts a slow course through her, making her palms go sweaty and her face pale. She doesn’t know what is going on, or why Angel won’t let her go. This is just not something she expected to happen, not to her, not with Angel.

Inhaling deeply, he can smell the fear that has started to roll off of her in tantalizing waves. He almost groans. It has been so long since he’s been able to inhale that sweetly tangy scent. It sings to parts of him that haven’t been stirred in centuries. All of her wriggling isn’t helping matters either. ‘Nice,’ the voice says. Angel is inclined to agree, she is nice. They have reached the stairs and he starts his way down. Willow redoubles her efforts and begins to kick at him as well.

“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?” Willow asks with some venom in her voice. ‘This is all my fault,’ she thinks. ‘I should have known better. He’s just come back from hell for crying out loud. Stupid!’

“Surprise,” Angel says in answer to her heated questions. She stills, and some of her anger dissipates.

“Well, you can put me down. I can walk you know,” Willow says with some trepidation. She is still unsure about his motives, butls als a little better that he can actually understand her and answer her questions. Even if they are one word answers. It shows progress and Willow can’t help but feel a little uplifted by that.

“Slippery,” Angel says. He doesn’t dare let her go. This is his only chance to ‘make them pay’. He hasn’t quite figured out who they are yet, but he is sure she knows and will tell him…one way or another.

There is a small hallway shrouded in darkness at the bottom of the long staircase. There are doors on both the left and right side in the middle of the hall. He has thoroughly searched both of these rooms when he came down earlier. There is a dampness to the hallway and the slight smell of something moldy. It is colder down here than up in the main room, and a slight moistness to the walls and ceiling. Angel goes to the door on the right. It is a small room with an empty, rotted bookcase on the left side and a rusted candelabra on the right. A well-worn, wooden box filled with old dolls sits in the far right corner. He walks straight to the far wall in just a few strides. Carefully, he feels for the loosened stone and pushes it back and to one side.

Willow is blind in the dark, but hears the stone being moved and the scraping of wood on stone off to her left.

“What is going on Angel?” she asks. Now she is not so sure she wants to be here. Something is wrong. She can feel it in her gut, like something is twisting it up and pulling.

“Surprise,” Angel replies once more. He turns and waits for the rotted bookcase to move. It reveals a doorway, which was hidden before. Angel now moves with a purpose. ‘Free to take her,’ the voice whispers to him. He looks around, now in game face, for the darkness here is too thick for him to see with his human-like eyes.

Angel looks around with what would be considered, by anyone who could see it, a feral grin. Some memories of this room come flooding back to him in waves of blood and screams. He barely registers the hidden door sliding back into place. The ten foot by fifteen foot room was set up by Angelus when he had inhabited this house. It had once held jewels and other such valuable items, along with some furniture that had been removed and brought into the main part of the house.

What there is now is a nice four poster bed standing in the far right corner, the chains still hanging from it. There is a table in the mi of of the room set up with restraints and a small unit off to the side that was designed to hold certain…instruments that could be used on whoever was unfortunate enough to find themselves on that table. Chains hang from the ceiling in the far left corner of the room, and a cross with restraints similar to the table stands against the wall. Different-sized whips and other torture implements hang from various spots along the same wall.

Angel stands there and takes it all in, reveling in his space. ‘Make them pay,’ the words keep playing over and over in his mind, and the more he hears them, the bigger his smile gets.

“Angel, put me down now!” Willow yells. She is growing anxious and fearful, blind as she is in this room. Fear creeps up her spine slowly, like something slick and wet. An involuntary shiver wracks her body and she hears Angel chuckle low and deep. This does nothing to relieve her tension at the situation she finds herself in.

“Ok,” Angel says and walks towards the bed. He is not worried about her getting out of his grasp now. He knows she can’t see a thing, and even if she could, she wouldn’t know how to get out of here. Only he knows.

He approaches the bed and sets her down on her feet, but keeps one arm around her waist as he grabs for one of the manacles that hang from the bed. She struggles in his arm, but doesn’t break loose.

“Let me go!”low low screams, anger tinging her voice. “I don’t know what you think you are doing, but Buffy won’t let you get away with it!” She is shocked that her friend could do something like this to her. ‘What is wrong with him?’ she wonders frantically.

‘Buffy…Slayer,’ he thinks. ‘Must make her pay as well.’ His memory comes back in a brief flash. A sword fight, glints of metal and blonde hair, then pain…excruciating pain, then a kiss as she says she loves him just as she slices through his heart with her sword, then…hell.

Angrily he grabs for an arm that is close to his and roughly puts the manacle on. The loud click tells him it is in place and he checks to make sure her hand can’t come through it. She is small and delicate and mustn’t be allowed to accidentally escape. Willow pounds wildly with her free hand on his chest.

Angel grabs the hand that is hitting him and climbs onto the bed, dragging her with him. With the other manacle he fastens her arm in place and looks at her. Her arms are held securely above her shoulders, not tight, but not loose either. She struggles to break free of the chains, an exquisite look of anger and pain on her face that Angel appreciates. He didn’t expect her to lay back and take it, nor did he want that. Such righteous indignation she has at being chained up.

“Be thankful you are somewhat comfortable,” Angel says, startling Willow and making her stop her struggles. “I was afforded no such luxury in hell.”

Willow’s mouth works like a fish until she can get her vocal cords to work. “What?” she asks in a weak voice.

“The bed,” he says by way of explanation. She is silent. Slowly he gets off the bed and searches in a small end table that is next to the bed for some matches. He finds them and checks to see if they have been affected by the dampness. Finding them dry, he lights the small candle that is on the table. It gives a weak light to the room, barely lighting only the immediate area, but it is enough.

Willow gives a small gasp as she sees the room come to life in front of her. She can’t believe it. Angel has brought her to some sort of torture chamber.

He clambers back onto the bed and watches Willow’s reaction to the room. It is everything he has hoped it would be. Fear and disbelief make a dance across her face, before finally giving way to shock.

“I take it you like it?” Angel says. He loves the smell of her, so potent and strong. It calls to him like a song. He leans in closer to her, putting his face in her neck and inhales. The soft scent of her skin mingled with her fear is almost irresistible to him. He has to fight for control. Not wanting to kill her right away, he reigns himself in. There are so many plans he has for her and it would not be advantageous for him to kill her…not right now at least.

“I don’t understand…Angel?” she asks, shrinking away from him.

“It’s all coming back you know…everything,” Angel says. He is looking at the pulse point in her neck and watching hungrily as it jumps. “Hell.”

“I’m so sorry Angel. I…I didn’t know! I swear to you I didn’t. Please, please don’t do this. Look, we can talk, ok? I mean, just…just please don’t do this,” Willow babbles, tears making long streaks down her face.

“Shh,” Angel crooned, placing a finger on her trembling lips. He leans into her and places his lips where his finger was. She is startled, having not expected this. When she opens her mouth to say something, he takes advantage of it and plunders her mouth with his tongue. Not an easy kiss, not soft, but rough and just a little hard, making her feel all his frustration over the last centuries. She leans into it just a little, but tries to push him away with her restrained hands.

Panting with unneeded breath, Angel makes his way down her neck, to her collar bone biting a little harder than she expected and making her gasp. His hands move along the outside of her shirt, rubbing her breasts with hard strokes. It’s almost painful to her, and she realizes what he is going to do. Willow struggles against him, only succeeding in making him laugh.

Sitting up he hooks a finger in her soft purple shirt and pulls with a downward motion, tearing the material and revealing her satin covered breasts.

“No!” she yells and tries to scoot away from him, further up on the bed. Angel just moves with her, a wild and unfocused look in his eyes. “Please don’t,” she sobs.

Angel ignores her in favor of pushing up her flowing skirt and tearing at her underwear. Willow lets out a small yelp as the material is removed. This is her worst nightmare. Something she never imagined would happen to her. Something she never believed Angel would do to her.

Running his hands up and under her body, he is lost in her, in her scent. Angel doesn’t care about her cries or pleas. He is making her pay…the only way he knows how. Her cries of for mercy do not move him. His vision is filled with her, consuming him. Her blood is so close to the surface of her skin that he can almost taste it, but he wants just a little more. How luscious it will taste when he’s in her.

Roughly he undoes his pants, not bothering to take them off. Angel is hard and ready to take her and make her his…make her pay. With an arm tucked it under her, he pulls her swiftly further down the bed, and pushes her legs open, moving in between them before she has a chance to close her legs again.

Without warning, he thrusts into her. She is so tight that he almost comes on the spot. Angel, with his girth, has stretched her and torn her. Blood is now scented on the air, sending him into a frenzy. Thrusting roughly, he puts his face close to her pulse point and shifts. In one quick movemee bue buries his fangs in her and bites down, letting her blood fill his mouth. He was right, her blood is rich and spicy and just a little more powerful then he’d originally thought. As soon as he swallows his first mouthful, he comes hard.

The last of his dead seed pumps into her as he takes just one more mouthful of her delicious blood before removing his fangs. Angel licks gently at the wound to close it.

He lays there for a minute, reveling in the ‘afterglow’. “Free,” he whispers. Sitting up, he looks at her disheveled form. She is unconscious, though he isn’t sure if that was due to blood loss or not.

Rolling over, he moves to lie next to her. He is suddenly tired and more than a little proud of himself. Settling down, he drapes an arm across Willow. ‘They will all pay,’ he thinks.