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A/N: The lyrics at the end of the chapter are from Burn, by The Cure.
CHAPTER 4: Every night
The blond man tossed and turned on the small, uncomfortable bed. As usual, he was restless and caught in the nightmare. Always the same. His past was haunting him through his sleep and he couldn’t escape. Prisoner of the cold building during the day, prisoner of his dreams at night. ,
His heart was racing, the blood pounding in his ears. His palms were clammy. The hallway seemed to stretch out indefinitely in front of him. The lights seemed dimmer than usual… his vision blurry.
He wanted to get there fast and get it over with. Quick. The way you remove a band aid. One swift motion so it doesn’t hurt too much. And at the same time, the closer he got from the bedroom door, the more he wanted to turn on his heel and run away. As far away from this place as he could, and never come back to this God forsaken place.
The laughter and sounds of passion were getting louder. He did not want to relive this. He did not chose to come back here. But somehow, he did. Every time he relived it, he couldn’t remember exactly what happened next, but somehow he knew he had been there before and it wouldn’t be good.
He put one foot in front of the other, as if he was caught in a play he knew by heart and had no choice but to play his part. To do everything the way it was supposed to happen.
William wasn’t an idiot. He might have been somewhat naïve and foolish when it came to love, but he knew what was going on. He had known for a long time, despite trying to repress the horrifying idea. He was now one step away from facing it once and for all and he didn‘t want to.
He stopped in front of the bedroom door, the moaning echoing in his head. So familiar. The sounds that used to make him so proud because he was the one causing them. But not this time. This time, he was standing outside the bedroom door and someone else was in there.
Taking a deep breath, William put a hand on the door. It was already cracked open so all he had to do was push to make it open slowly, with a fatality that fit the situation perfectly.
Everything was blurry. As if he was walking surrounded by fog. He saw nothing. Wasn’t aware of his surroundings. He was so deeply in shock over the scene displayed in front of him that he couldn’t even see Angel standing by the door wearing nothing but a maniacal smile. The tall man was only two feet away and yet, Spike couldn’t even realize he was there. He couldn’t see Darla either, laying on the bed with her hand between Drusilla’s legs. Her high pitched laughter seemed to be coming from everywhere. His subconscious knew they were all there, but all he could see was Drusilla. She was so perfectly clear in his sight. Her white skin glowing on the equally while satin sheets she was so found of. Her raven black hair a stunning contrast on the white satin pillows.
He hadn’t even acknowledged the deafening sharp bang. Didn’t know where it came from, or what it was. He could only stare. He stared as the ruby red spot on the snow white sheets grew larger and larger until it covered almost all of the bed. It was an eerie sight, really.
He looked down at the gun that had appeared in his hand… He didn’t know when, or how. The horror of all this took him by surprise. As if suddenly waking up. He opened his hand and the gun dropped to the floor in slow motion. Darla was still laughing.
Drusilla sat up, pointing a bloody finger at him.
“Poor sweet William. The moon and the stars played a nasty trick on you didn’t they? I hear them laughing. Naughty, they are. The night has taken you and won’t let you go play with the sun anymore because you have filthy, filthy, hands. Soiled with my blood…”
Tears where streaming down his handsome face, unbeknownst to him. “I didn’t kill you! I didn’t!”
Blood escaped her cherry red lips as she smiled, then started laughing.
“I didn’t… I didn’t…”
“Oh for God’s sake! Will you wake up, you lunatic!”
Spike gasped, trying to catch his breath. He looked around, trying to understand where he was and what was happening. His eyes finally landed on the very unappealing face of Snyder.
The little man snorted in disgust. “Some people would appreciate getting some sleep--if it fits into your schedule, somewhere between the whimpering and the yelling.”
“Shut your bloody gob, rat face” Spike spat at his cellmate.
Snyder went back to his own cot, mumbling under his breath. “Every night. EVERY single night… Freak.”
Sleep a while
You must be tired...
But every night I burn
Every night I call your name
Every night I burn
Every night I fall again
Every night I burn
Scream the animal scream
Every night I burn
Dream the crow black dream
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Chapter 5: A little motivation
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