Epilogue
Angelus smiled as he surveyed the nightlife of the dance floor at The Bronze. The young adults of Sunnydale were oblivious to the fact that a deadly predator walked amongst them. Even though dressed from head to toe in black, Angelus still blended in with the young crowd while he wore his human visage.
But Angelus wasn’t human. He was a demon… and he reveled in it. He let his primal urges drive him. He enjoyed hunting and killing humans in order to satisfy his thirst for blood. He believed it was the sole purpose of their existence. Humans were a source for sustenance and of little use for anything else.
Yet… there was another part of him that craved for the destruction of the human race as if it were a drug. He wanted nothing more than to have every living thing on the planet utterly destroyed save for the demons that populated it. Such an act would be his ultimate victory and display of power over the human race.
And power was something Angelus was accustomed to having.
Especially over these pathetic things...
As his eyes moved over the crowd he hoped the Slayer would turn up. He wanted to torture her. After what he’d suffered through last night… he really wanted to torture her. He could still recall the way he’d been forced to feel. The more he remembered… the greater his urge was to find her. He scanned the face of every blonde haired girl. He hadn’t found her yet. Then again, he could always sense her presence. He could always tell when she was near.
What an advantage to have… that and the fact I still look like her 'Angel'. She drops her guard because of it and it lets me get close enough to kill her.
Angelus couldn’t help but grin. He knew her days were numbered. Her death was inevitable. Slayers never lived that long. Most of them never made it to the age of twenty.
I’ve killed a few to make sure of it.
It went without saying that it was the ultimate sport to take one down. Slayers were naturally stronger and more resilient, yet their greatest weakness stemmed from the fact that they were still only human. They could die just the same as any mortal.
And tonight is just as good as any for the Slayer's death. She’s usually here with those idiot friends of hers. Those wannabe Slayerettes that'd like to think they're useful.
Angelus’ eyes impatiently scanned the crowd again when suddenly he halted in his tracks. He felt himself catch a breath of air. For a brief moment he thought he caught a glimpse of… her.
Not the Slayer.
It was the only other significant blonde of his immortal existence that Angelus thought he saw.
"Darla?!" Her name escaped his lips in a barely audible whisper as his eyes strained to get a better look at the woman. She was darting in and out of the crowded dance floor. Deep down a part of him longed for her to be his sire. That maybe the memory he had of Darla's final death… was instead a dream. Yet, when the woman turned toward him it was obviously… not her. But the resemblance, in some ways, was amazing.
At least to Angelus.
The woman's hair was pinned up and a mass of blonde shoulder length curls tumbled down around her face the same way in which he'd seen Darla wear hers back in the old days. But this girl had neither Darla’s beautiful eyes nor her mischievous smile that Angelus had grown to adore.
His mind briefly reflected on the distant past. To the days in which his sire had taught him everything he knew about being a vampire. To Darla’s surprise, Angelus in turn had taught her a few things as well. The memories of their journeys together and all the evil deeds they’d committed brought a smile to his face.
We were quite the vicious pair.
Darla and he had been a formidable team back then. The Master had been very pleased with the two of them… especially of Angelus. When the day was to come for The Master to rise, Angelus was to have sat at his right hand. Darla had gleamed with pride the day The Master announced it. Angelus could clearly recall the way his sire had looked on him and smiled. But it was the memory of later that night, when she’d privately given him her approval, that he remembered more than anything else. He’d felt a fire between the two of them that night that’d never before existed.
It was the moment that Angelus had marked as his new beginning. From then on he’d set out to be the most vicious creature he could possibly be. He’d wanted to be feared by both human and demon alike. He’d wanted his name to be known across the continents.
Of course, he did accomplish what he set out to do… at least in the beginning.
But fate intervened.
Darla and he had been traveling together through the Romany countryside. They'd decided to stay over in the town of Borsca for a few nights, to sample the taste of the locals. Darla had found him a gypsy girl and had her all tied up like a present for his birthday. He remembered how she had watched as he'd killed the girl. Yet... how was either of them to know what vengeance the gypsies would call upon Angelus for killing one of their kind? The memory of having his soul restored… made him shiver inside.
But those days were long gone.
And…Darla as well.
He could hear Spike’s voice in his head suddenly. ‘Last I recall he staked his own sire.’ Angelus hated the fact that he’d lost control of himself at the mere mention of Darla’s name. Yet… he couldn’t help himself. The fact that he’d been the one to give Darla her final death did bother him. It was one of the greatest sins he could’ve committed among his kind. But what really bothered him even more than her death… was the fact that he’d done it for the Slayer.
To save the Slayer’s life.
When, in fact, he should’ve helped his sire to kill the Slayer. The two of them together would’ve been more than a match for the young girl. They would’ve taken turns drinking the Slayer’s blood. Instead, he’d staked Darla… from behind.
Like a coward…
It almost made Angelus laugh. ‘Angel’ hadn’t had the nerve to kill Darla while facing her. He’d still had feelings for her, however remote they’d been at the time. ‘Angel’ had barely resisted her temptations that night. He’d almost given into their old fire. Killing her had been the hardest thing ‘Angel’ had ever been forced to do. Angelus could recall the look of betrayal on Darla‘s face when she’d turned to see who’d driven the arrow through her heart. His name had been the last thing to leave her lips.
It haunted him.
In more ways than one.
Darla had been many things to him. For nearly a hundred years she’d been his companion, mentor, and lover. And now… she was nothing.
And he felt nothing for her.
Angelus leisurely flirted with the woman who vaguely resembled his sire. He bought her a few drinks, danced with her a few times, then convinced her to leave the club with him. In a dark alleyway not to far from The Bronze, he made sure to kill her slowly. He took his time with her, making sure she realized what he was and that her death was inevitable.
Perhaps, because of her resemblance to Darla, he’d felt a need to take her life. That maybe she didn’t deserve to walk the earth while he was on it. Then again… he was hungry and it mattered little why she died, only that she satisfied his thirst for blood.
Angelus wondered the streets of Sunnydale lost in thought until he realized he was walking down Revello Drive. He then found himself standing in front of the Slayer’s house. He shrugged then silently he climbed up the tree to the second story of the house. From his perch he peered into the Slayer’s bedroom. To his mild surprise, Buffy Summers was home. She was still wearing her patrolling clothes as she crossed her bedroom.
Angelus kept to the shadows as he watched Buffy. She took a ring out of the drawer of her nightstand and stared at it for a long time. She then collapsed on her bed in tears. Every now and then he could hear her whisper ‘Angel’ in between her sobs. She curled up in a fetal position and clutched a pillow to her chest.
An amused smile crept up the corners of Angelus’ mouth. He knew what ring she’d found. When he’d had a soul he’d given it to her as a gift the night of her birthday. The memory of what he did to her afterward made his stomach turn. Just the thought of kissing the Slayer, much less ‘making love’ to her, repulsed him. Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, he was grateful for that night.
After all… she set me free.
He glanced down at his right hand and stared at his own claddagh ring. He still wore it, if only to remind the Slayer of who he used to be. The heart was pointed outward now. He’d changed it the night he was ‘reborn’ into the world. Angelus didn’t belong to anyone. He didn’t feel… love.
My heart doesn’t beat anymore. Love is a weakness. It’s useless.
Angelus remained in his perch and silently observed Buffy as she cried. He felt a wave of pleasure wash over him as he bore witness to her pain. It was exhilarating to watch her cry in torment over him. Her suffering brought him a level of pleasure that was not unlike the thrill of killing.
Buffy collected herself after a while and put the ring back into her nightstand drawer. She got up and changed into her pajamas then crawled into bed. For a moment she stared directly at Angelus. He briefly thought that she could see him… until he noticed the distant look in her eyes.
Probably remembering how I use to visit her up here… outside her window. God, I was really pathetic! How could I ever have chosen her over Dru?
Buffy let out a deep sigh then she turned her light off to go to sleep.
Angelus edged a little closer to the window now that he’d more shadows to work with. He stared at her sleeping form for hours. He memorized the way she looked, the way she breathed, and the way she moved beneath the sheets as she slept. His every fiber desperately longed to get into her room, to sit by her on the bed, to be near her…
So I can torture her… slowly… make her suffer for what she did to me. I want to savor it. Drive her insane with guilt and remorse. Do to her what was done to me… only much worse. I want her to feel the weight of all the lives I’ve taken since she slept with me. Only then will I begin to have my revenge on her.
Angelus kept watch over her until he realized that the twilight hours were upon him. He forced himself to leave the Slayer’s house. It was useless for him to be there anyway. He couldn’t get inside. She’d found a way to reverse his invitation into her house. He would have to wait until they crossed paths another time.
Perhaps… tomorrow night while she patrols… I’ll pay her a visit.
As Angelus walked back to his mansion, he let his mind drift with thoughts of what he would do to Buffy Summers when they next met. The Slayer and he would have a reckoning soon. Of that he was sure. And Angelus would prevail. With Spike and Drusilla to back him up, he knew the Slayer didn’t stand a chance against him.
Her defeat will be my greatest accomplishment since Dru.
Angelus smiled to himself.
And I always get… what I desire.