My Angel by Dark Will
Her ignorance is amusing. Or it would be if it wasn't killing me. She is a slayer. Chosen to fight the baddies, ghouls and all of the other monsters under the bed. Yet she manages to ignore the things going right under her nose. She refuses to admit that men are cruel.
She doesn't know about all the men that hurt women everyday.
Women like her.
Women like me.
Men like him.
She doesn't notice. She will when he hurts her.
And he will hurt her.
She doesn't care. She hurts when he hurts. And he will hurt.
Because I will make him pay.
I will make him pay for everything he has done to me.
Because while she lives in blissful ignorance, I'm forced to live in the real world.
And while in Buffy's-land-of-fluffy-bunnies Angel is an amazing hero searching for redemption, in the real world he is the same drunken bastard her was two hundred and what crap years ago before he was turned.
Because men like him are the ones that make people like her into people like me.
Pom-pom princess turned into bitchy ice queens.
I'm here now. The bitch at her master's beck and call. Only this time I'm going to fight back. Making sure I everything I need, I adjust my leather collar and pull my black leather shirt down as low as it can go. It rests just above the bottom of my ribcage.
I hate the way he has me dress. Just the collar and the top I mentioned along with a black-lace thong and hooker boots.
I go and lay on his bed, in the position he always orders me into, with the semi-comforting knowledge that this will be the last time I will ever have to wear these damned cloths, no matter the outcome.
I have to do this for all of the Scoobies.
So none of them will die because of their leader's ignorance.
"Look at you. Lying on the bed like some fucking Sleeping Beauty waiting for your prince to show up. Well, he's not coming." He pauses when I wince. "Do you know why? I've drained him dry. And I'm here in his place." Tears begin to fall, and I choke back the sobs that threaten to immerge form my throat.
God, I hate him. He always knows what to say to effect me.
"Or should I say princess?" He asks. I tense.
He doesn't know. He can't know.
"Maybe I should _name_ the woman my bitch is so hot for."
Oh, god, he knows.
"I wonder what Willow would say if she knew you were screwing her best friend's boyfriend? Bet you would hate you." I begin to shudder violently. Angel just laughs. The motherfucking bastard loves this.
He loves the power he has over me.
He loves the fact that I hate him because of the power he has over me.
"Let's find out, shall we?" He says in a tone that makes me wary. He pulls the curtain that he has put up, and behind it is the girl I've been in love with since I first saw her.
Angel has her bound and gagged. I have always believed that if I ever got up the courage to tell the redhead how I felt, Willow might just say she felt the same way.
Dogboy had broken-up with her a month ago, saying that even though he loved her, they couldn't be togeather because she was in love with someone else.
And while everyone in the Scoobie gang thought he meant Xander, I hoped it was me. But it didn't matter now. Even if Willow _had_ felt something for me, it's gone now. I just lost it. And I know I'll never get her back.
I glared at him, unable to see the disgust I know is in Willow's eyes.
Because she thinks I've betrayed her best friend.
Because she thinks I've betrayed my best friend.
What she doesn't know is that she was my _only_ friend.
And now I don't even have her.
But at least I know that it _was_ me that she was in love with. Because when I finally get the guts to look into her beautiful eyes I know the one thing I've been trying to figure out for a month.
She thinks I've betrayed her.
But tonight I am going to show her that it's her I love. Not some slobbering drunk that makes me bang him every night. I get up and to go to my beloved Willow.
But he gets there first.
I watch in horror as he drains her.
No, I take that back. He doesn't drain her. He leaves her with just enough blood so that she will be alive for a whole, what? Five minutes? He drops her, and walks over to me.
But I'm not taking anymore shit from him. I slap the bastard and run over to my love.
By the time I get to her, she's practically gone. Her eyes are glazed over and she has stopped trying to move. She's given up. I'd seen it in so many other's, you'd think I'd' have gotten used to it.
I thought I had.
But to see it in her
"Willow" I say, softly, and for a moment, I think she's already dead. But I feel a slight pressure on my hand, and I see she has placed hers over mine. "I love you." She finally looks at me, strait in the eye. And she is smiling.
"I'm so tried." She whispers as the air becomes harder for her to take into her lungs.
"I love you." I say as I caressed her face.
"Me, too. I love you too." She murmurs, oh so softly. "I-" And her hand falls to the ground. I close my eyes and feel Angel push my shoulder.
Hard. It's all I can do to stop myself from trying to kill him then and there.
"You bastard! I scream, hot tears rolling down my face. He just laughs.
That's it. No more miss nice Slayer. I throw a punch at him, but he just laughs it off.
I can't hurt him. I've had my Slayerness for a whole year, where he has been around for more then two hundred.
The bastard drags me too my feet and glares at me.
"You know you're going to pay for that, right? Tonight I am going to slam into you so hard, so fast, that you're going to bleed so bad that if you weren't a Slayer, you'd die.
I just spit in her face. He hits me hard, that I fall onto the ground, smashing my head on the stone floor. I try to lift my head up and it hurts so bad.
I can see her body. It hurts too much to see her lying there, lifeless, so I turn over and use most of however much strength I have left to knock him over.
Then I painfully turn back look at her peaceful face.
She looks like she's sleeping.
I can remember watching her lying on her bed after patrol, before retiring to my 'master's' bed.
She always looked so peaceful.
She always looked so content.
She always looked so I don't know, happy.
Like the world belonged to her. And it probably would have if she wanted it.
She was such an innocent angel.
She was my angel.
"I love you, Red."
And then I feel his hands on my head.
And it's then and there that I know I'm going to die.
I just hope that wherever I'm going, I won't feel this burning rage or remember the sorrow that comes with watching the one you love die.
I hope I never have to remember what it feels like to watch my angel die.
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