A/N: All i've got to say about this is that this was the hardest thing i've ever had to write. This is the first draft... I found out that i really couldn't go back and detail it, which is something it desperately needs. And i couldn't because It just... disturbed me. It's certainly not the worst thing i've ever read, by far, but the reason it affected me so much was because it all came from my head. When i go over it, i read something different from what you guys read and if i write it all down... it's all layed out for me ... and somehow, psychologically, it frightens me that i could ever see something like this.
Chapter 20 Seeing Red
Los Angeles
“The smell,” Spike shuddered, closing his eyes as the images bombarded his mind for the first time in years. And they were as fresh as if they had come from yesterday.
Droplets of deep red dripped slowly from the walls, rolling thickly down to the pool on the floor…
Spike shook his head, trying to rid himself of the picture. “It smelled like… death. Stale… moist…,” he choked up and pressed his fingers to his temple.
Closet door half opened, a miniature arm hanging out, fingers bent backwards, hand twisted… He gasped for breath and his breathing became quicker and quicker as his heart raced at record speed as he relived the most horrifying day in his life…
…………
England 1997
The first thing William noticed about the room was its rancid, stale smell. It hung in the air like thick smog and he couldn’t help but gag. The second thing he noticed was the form of his mother settled in the center of the small bed.
Her long, graying hair was braided into two neat pleats falling down either side of her head. She was humming softly to a little doll in her arms which she was rocking back and forth like a little baby. When he entered the room, she looked up at him and smiled.
“Little Will,” she crooned, beckoning him closer to her bed. He hesitantly took a step forward, glancing around the room, uneasily. Something seemed wrong about her… about the room. Her voice was too sweet, too kind, the room was too dry, the air was too… That’s when he noticed that the doll in her arms was missing a head. The stump of the neck was ripped and torn pieces of thread hung out, violently pulled and mauled. His eyes widened and immediately flickered back to his mother’s face.
She was studying him carefully with her lips stretched into a calculated smile and there was a deadly gleam in her eyes that made him sick to his stomach. Her face glowed and her cheeks were flushed red, making her look healthier than she had seemed for ages, yet the pallid flesh of her neck and arms silently screamed death. Suddenly her eyes softened and her smile dropped a centimeter and then she became his mother again. The mother that had been absent for years and his heart yearned for contact.
“Mama,” he croaked, feeling the unshed tears of a lifetime start to pour out of his eyes. He ran the length of the room and catapulted himself in her arms, begging her to hold him and comfort him as she had when he was still a little boy. As she had before he was forced to grow up.
At first, her body went rigid and she held her breath, but soon, her arms went around his small frame and she held him close to her heart, loving him in a way only a mother could.
“My Will,” her voice cracked and lost the soft, leisurely tone it had had when she had been singing. The coughing came instantly, forcing her to break apart from him.
“Ma, are you okay?” William pulled away and looked at her face, concerned. She brought up a hand to his face and didn’t say anything.
Then, casually smiling, she lifted her palm above his head and slapped him hard. So hard that he fell over the bed and sprawled onto the floor, crying out in pain and surprise. He looked up at her from his position on the floor, silently asking her ‘Why, mama? Why?’, but she didn’t answer.
Instead, the deadly smile was back on her face as she moved to rock the doll again.
“Rockaby baby, on the treetop,” she sang, gazing down at the mutilated marionette in her arms. William looked away, squeezing his eyes shut and willing the wetness to go away.
The raven-haired doll’s head was three feet from his body, staring up at the ceiling with glassy, hazel eyes. It’s painted lips were curled up in a wicked smirk and somehow, without it’s body, it seemed to sing of evil and darkness. It’s blank eyes followed William as he approached it and reached out his hand to grab it by it’s hair.
“Wouldn’t touch the baby, Will,” his mother kept up in a sing-song voice from her perch on the pillows. “Baby bites.”
The pale, porcelain of the face shone and by some trick of light, deepened it’s maroon smile and lifted it’s little nose, daring him to touch it. When William’s hand made contact, the head rolled on it’s side, so it’s face was staring out at the closet door by the wall.
…………
“It knew my secrets. It new mum’s secrets. Such a little head that contained everything,” Spike gripped the arm of his chair hard. “Such a little head… and it spilled everything.”
Dr. Travers sat, shocked at the painting Spike was unveiling.
…………
The closet door was cracked open and something white was sticking out of it. The room became staler and the smell became worse. William held his breath and dared himself to go closer, but his body refused, planting itself down on the floor. It screamed at him to run away, out of the door, out of the horror story that it was trapped in, but he wouldn’t let himself listen.
“Mama’s got a surprise for little Willy,” his mother continued and William ignored her, rising unsteadily to his feet and holding his breath as he took a little step towards the closet. His hand rose up to wrap itself around the cold, metal doorknob and pulled it open.
He clamped his hands over his mouth as his stomach lurched up and out of his throat. He fell backwards, repelled and revolted at the sight before him. Blood streaked down the closet door, pooled along the floor, seeping out. Black blood smeared along the walls, staining clothes, giving off a rancid smell.
And a small arm fell from against the wall, tumbling and rolling across the closet floor until it crept to the edge of the wooden room. A small arm that was once alive. He couldn’t scream. All he could do was choke on his vomit and back away from the gross display.
In the shadows, a miniature torso of a little girl was propped up, sitting as still as can be as if frightened of the outside world. It didn’t move. It just rested itself against the wall, neatly, trickling blood onto the ground.
“She was a bad girl,” his mother sighed, sadly, turning to stare at William who was fixated on the horrid sight. Something inside him wrenched and his heart dropped to his feet. Emmy… Emmy…
“.. Emmy…” he gasped, coughing when he choked on his tears and wiped the bile from his mouth. No… His mother laughed at him and tossed the doll to the side.
“Emmaliene was very bad,” her voice taunted him from behind and laughed. “She thought William would come and save her! And do you know what I said?”
William couldn’t answer and she supplied for him, “I said, Why, Emma, what gives you such an idea as that? Little William is at school! He doesn’t want to save you! And then, oh this is too much, and then… she said that it didn’t matter. That you said you would always save her! Isn’t that ridiculous?” She laughed again and hiccupped. “Oops,” she brought her hand to her mouth and giggled, “pardon me.
“And William, you’ll never guess what she said next! She said… “ her voice grew louder and she raised her arms for dramatic effect, “She said that you LOVED her!”
The cackling went hysterical and she bent over from the apparent hilarity of it all. William whirled around, eyes wide, mouth open, but his voice caught in his throat. “You… you…” he sputtered, mind spinning in opposite directions and all he could see was a blur.
“I… I…” she mocked him, tangling her hands in her braids and threw her head back, laughing still, “what did I do, my dear? Why, I did what a mother should do!”
“No!” he screamed, finding his voice again, but it went away and the rest of his sentence came out a whisper, “you.. you killed her…”
His mother shook her head, smiling sympathetically, “No, I didn’t, darling,” she sighed, “you did. You killed her.”
He stood there, shocked, with tears streaming down his face, dripping down the collar of his shirt. He swallowed, tasting the awful metallic tinge of blood in his mouth. No. She kept shaking her head, sadly.
“You should have been there, dear,” her voice was full of resignation, but soon the wonder overtook her, “It was quite a party. Oh, the angels and the devils above all came together and we sang as one, darling. It was marvelous. And poor Emmy… all she could talk about was love! Oh, the irony, the irony! How disillusioned she was! Thinking that something like love could save her! Tell me, my dear, did you plant this horrid idea into her head? Hm? Answer me, William.”
“It’s true,” his voice cracked and his eyes clouded over. “It’s true! It’s not a horrid idea, it’s the truth – “
“Oh goodness,” his mother cut him off, bringing frail hands up to her chapped lips. “Don’t tell me you haven’t learnt! How could I call myself a mother! My love, you are dreadfully wrong.”
She smiled bitterly at him and moved slowly to climb out from under the covers. “You see, love doesn’t save anybody. It never has and it never will. It only kills!” she raised her voice and at the same time, moved her arms out from behind her back, revealing a sharpened knife she was clutching with her dear life.
“No… mama please,” his heart raced even faster and he whimpered, terrified. She screamed, a loud, unhumanly scream that rang to the core of the very earth as she raised her arm up. The knife gleamed under the dim light and the crusted blood and before William could dash away, it was struck, quick as a rattlesnake, sudden as a pouncing tiger.
His mother slashed at his face as hard as she could, but in her weakened state, managed to only knick his left eyebrow, stunning him. William immediately fell backwards and hit his head against the open closet door, disturbing it and making something fall and roll out.
“Love murders!” his mother screeched, pulling her hair with frenzied hands and her eyes widened, shifting back and forth. “It twists and turns and pulls and yanks and kills you until your insides are out and your head is off, it burns and sizzles you until your very skin rots off your barren body! William, love does not save – it only haunts.”
He didn’t have time to comprehend the object now lying next to his hand or the words reaching his ears. All he could make out was the deadly knife shuddering in a waving fist and that it was coming closer and closer to him.
“No, mama, please, no…” he cried, trying to back away from her, away from the knife.
“William, I must do what I am about to,” her voice softened and she sounded almost compassionate. “I have to save you. I have to save you like I saved Emma. I have to save you, I have to save you…” she repeated to herself over and over again, trying to convince herself.
William saw her fall to her knees and the knife clatter to the floor, falling from her hands as she brought them up to cover her face.
“Save you… save you… save you…” she chanted and William took a timid step towards her.
“Mama?” he asked, reaching out to touch her, but she jumped back.
“No, William, run!” she shouted, then screamed a blood curdling scream and William ran.
He ran and didn’t look back. He ran all the way into the kitchen and that was when the world became black and he felt himself tumbling to the floor. The last thing he heard was the shrill cry of his mother as she brought the knife into her stomach and stuck it into herself for the sake of love.
Because love did not save, it did not protect, it only brought pain. Love was the world’s number one serial killer.
A/N: As i've said before, it needs a lot more detail. I planned to intensify Emma's mutilated body in the closet, but i found that i just couldn't... at least not right now. Hopefully, you guys understand ...
On a brighter note, all the chapters after this will be much lighter. And give it 2-4 chapters before Buffy and Spike see each other again...
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Thanks for the support and the reviews... they've made me feel a lot better.