Every Little Bit Hurts
By: Schehrezade
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Extreme Language,
Character Death, Rape/Attempted, Sexual Situations, Violence
Feedback: Craved in the most unbecoming manner: Schehrezade_1@hotmail.com
Chapter 2
"I can't." Buffy sniffled against his shoulder. Leaning her head
against the firm muscles and gathering strength from his presence.
"Can't what love?"
"See them...I don't think. I can't face them...not right now," she
whispered against the comforting black leather. She clutched at him,
trying to anchor herself in the maelstrom of emotions that buffeted her
from all sides. Her family was gone and he was the only constant she
wanted in her life now.
"But they're your mates Slayer," Spike ran a nervous hand over her
tousled hair, smoothing it. He tried to edge towards the double doors.
He glanced over to the small windows, hoping that one of the gits that
plagued his unlife were peering through and could come and help him.
As much as he was delighting in holding the object of his affection,
part of him worried that she needed more than he could offer. He was
used to insane and unable to care for herself in his long gone sire,
but this was Buffy. She had just lost her mother and now her sister he
was at a complete loss, he was a nurturer by nature -- but her
overwhelming grief was too much. Usually he was the cause of the grief
not someone who tried to cure it. But for Buffy he would do anything,
overcome his demon's natural instincts - change his entire nature if he
could.
"Take me away from here please, I need some time before I can face
them," Buffy plead. The thought of the Scoobies sympathetic faces and
fumbled attempts to comfort her was too much for her to cope with and
the moment. She needed some quiet time to lick her wounds and heal.
Staring up at Spike Buffy silently begged that he would understand and
take her away.
Spike looked down into her red rimmed hazel eyes and her flushed tear
stained cheeks and his heart clenched in sympathy. He nodded quietly
and pulled her to her feet. Silently he offered his arm to the grieving
girl and the two of them walked slowly down the corridor. So caught up
in their grief neither of them noticed or sensed the vampire watching
them through black shot emerald green eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"You think we should go and see where they are?" Xander glanced over at
the doors that Buffy had disappeared down. The snacks he and Anya had
collected earlier were all consumed and he was starting to wonder what
to do.
Willow and Tara exchanged a look and then the slender redhead stood.
"I'll go." Tara's words of warning still ringing in her ears the
redhead took a breath and slipped away.
Anya cocked her head, her usual ebullience gone with the spectre of
death that hung over the small group. She was confused scared and
feeling very much alone. Death she understood, something she had
offered to her victims for a thousand years, but the grief that her
humanity now cursed her with was something the ex-Vengeance demoness
had no concept of. Her fumbled attempts to understand and talk about
them had been greeted with the usual Xander silence. Her boyfriend as
usual, seemed almost embarrassed when she tried to explain her
confusion and made no effort to explain or help her understand.
The beginnings of antipathy were budding in her heart and it made her
itch, she was alone in this world. Abandoned by all that was familiar
to her, Arashmahir was a distant memory and her fellow demons now so
far from her
that she wanted to scream and rail against her sudden orphaning.
Her new family treated her like an unexploded bomb; waiting to see what
disaster her mouth would spout. Only Tara, Giles and Mrs Summers had
treated her normally and for that they would hold a special place in
her heart. And now one of them was gone and she left behind her two
daughters who Anya vowed to help in the memory of all of Joyce's
kindness and compassion. Even if they didn't want it or understand why
she offered it.
Anya glanced at the swinging door that the Willow had gone through and
sighed, that was one person she could live happily without in her life.
Willow hated her with a fire of a thousand suns, Anya was no fool and
the jealousy that the redheaded Wiccan tried to suppress was something
the sharp witted ex demon had picked up on. She also knew that whomever
Xander took to his bed would be treated with the same cruelty and
unkindness that Willow treated her with. It was disturbing that a
fully-fledged lesbian still wanted her oldest friend. Anya wrung her
hands nervously and felt even worse for her unkind thoughts, now was
not the time to think about Willow.
But little did she know.
~~~~~~~~
The first one had tasted of innocence, her blood full of an untold
power and her fear and added a taste to it that he had savoured. His
only regret was that he had not been about to sample the delights
hidden between her virginal thighs, but there had been too many
distractions.
The blond vampire would die slowly and painfully and as for the other
one who had tried to protect her sister. He had plans for her that were
making his stolen blood sing in anticipation.
This one tasted so sweet and the power simmering in her untapped depths
was something he wanted for his own. But unlike the teen, her blood
didn't infuse him with her magicks. So instead he decided to keep her
bound to him for all eternity. Biting down hard the newly risen Fledge
instinctively began to drain the struggling redhead to the point of
death.
His hands deftly stripped her off her clothes and he threw her to the
floor. His actions causing his fangs to be torn from her pale throat,
and the wound left behind bled copiously. Anointing her pale freckled
skin with scarlet ribbons that would become a familiar sight and
experience for her.
He stared down admiringly at the weakly struggling slim form pinned
beneath him.
Her small breasts shook as she tried to wriggle free; the pale coral
nubs that were tightening with her fear and the cold of the morgue made
his mouth water in anticipation. He wanted to feast on all her charms
for hours, make her scream and bleed until he remade her into a minion
that would cower at his feet and do his bidding.
His oddly coloured eyes scanned the rest of her body appreciatively;
the sparse red curls on her mound were carefully groomed and framed the
juncture of her thighs perfectly. Her soft belly shook with each
sobbing breath she took, he reached down and clawed at the white
freckled skin. He watched mesmerised at the trails of blood that seeped
from the fresh cuts. Leaning down he licked up the precious liquid and
then gripping her inner thighs he forced her legs apart. Revealing her
soft cleft to his greedy gaze. Sniffing the air around her he laughed
this one was covered in the scent of another woman; he was going to
enjoy this.
Willow's mouth opened as she tried to scream, but a cold strong hand
clamped around her throat and squeezed it tightly, cutting off her air
supply. Her captor hovered over her his hard cock seeping precum, her
gaze never leaving it, she shook in horror, Willow realised that there
was nothing she could do. All her magic spells had abandoned her the
moment he had stripped her and thrown her to the cold floor. In its
place was a terrified girl lay there defenceless—a sacrificial lamb on
the altar of the demon holding her madness.
Her fingers weakly clutched at her attacker and as black spots began to
dance in front of her eyes she weakened. Her hands dropped limply to
her sides and her muscles started to slack. The green - eyed vampire
used his free hand to part her quivering thighs more so he could slide
between them and he laid over her, his cock pressing against her.
Willow whimpered and tried to push her hands between her thighs and
cover herself in a futile attempt to prevent him raping her. But before
she could muster a tenuous defence of her virtue her captor bashed her
head hard against to floor. Pain shot down her spine and her tenuous
hold on consciousness began to falter.
Dimly she felt his hand move from her throat and down between her legs,
his thick fingers pushing into her tight channel using her own blood to
lubricate her. Willow sobbed a thin weak hand clutched pathetically at
his wrist trying to remove his hand from her.
"Now honey just relax and let me make it sooo good for you," her soon
to be rapist and murderer crooned as he rubbed his seeping erection
against her. His hips rocking back and forth, in a motion Willow
remembered from happier times with Oz.
"No...no...no...please don't do this too me..." she wept, mucus pouring from
her mouth and into her pleading mouth. Choking her as she begged
pathetically for clemency. All she received in answer was a callous
laugh and a tearing sensation in her breast as he bent down and sank
him fangs into the juddering flesh, almost tearing her nipple off as he
shook his head from side to side.
Her last memories of life were the sting of his fangs entering her
defenceless throat and the agony of his cock tearing into her channel.
Two solitary tears escaped her screwed shuteyes as Willow's chapped
pale lips moved only once before she passed out never to wake again as
a mortal.
"Tara...baby, please save me."
To Be Continued...