Don't get me wrong, I want to survive this. I will kill if I have to; I just don't want to. They are slowly killing me anyway - at least that's how it feels. I haven't seen Willow since that first day. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. I mean, she looks like Wills, but she isn't. She's empty, hollow; nothing there but a husk. I feel bad that I'm almost relieved to not have to look at her.
I spend almost all of my time in this cage. They take me out to fight in the pen and afterwards they bring me back here. Wherever here is. I wish I'd paid more attention in school, then I might know what to compare this place to. It's not unlike the Coliseum, but it isn't the same as that either.
The pen where the fights take place is disgusting. It reeks of decay and there are bodies piled up the corners. I know if I die, I won't end up there; the only bodies there are demon. No, if I die here, I'll end up something’s dinner. It's that thought, among the many others that keeps me going. I refuse to be food.
I remember taunting Spike about how biteable I am: ”moist and delicious” is what I told him. He finally sneered out that I was a real nummy treat. Gods, what was I thinking? Telling a demon, even a chipped one, that I would be a good meal is suicidal. I must remember to tell Spike that I take it back. I'm NOT biteable. No numminess at all! That is, if I ever get home.
This place is like something out of a nightmare. At night, or whatever passes for it around here, I hear the screams. The ones that aren't entertaining enough for the pens - the men, the women, hells, I think some of them are children - I hear them scream and beg for death. They won't find it. Not until they are so used up that they are no fun anymore. When they refuse to scream, when they stop fighting back, that's when they may finally find death. But then again, maybe not.
I know in my heart, that Willow was one of them once. One of the unlucky ones. It kills me. I refuse to think about it when I hear the screams. If I don't block it out, if I even once envision her screaming like that, I will go mad. I have to keep my wits if I'm going to survive this place long enough to shift.
Xander tucked his journal away just as one of the large orange-and-purple demons stepped into the room. This was not a good sign. He had already been taken out earlier to fight, and the time for fighting was long past. There could only be one reason for this visit and Xander would die before he allowed that to happen to him.
As soon as the door on his little cage-like cell had been opened, Xander charged. The demon had not expected the attack and therefore Xander caught him off-guard. As his shoulder plowed heavily into the demon’s mid-section, the demon let out a burst of foul breath and doubled over. Xander took the opportunity to make a run for the door.
Outside in the hallway, Xander paused for a quick look around. He knew the way to the pit but other than that he was completely lost. He turned in the opposite direction of the pit and ran like hell. He could hear the demon following close behind him. He ran faster, but he was quickly tiring. Weeks of being underfed and forced to fight for his very life had drained his energy, so it was not very surprising that he was soon caught.
The demon didn't seem to be all that put out by the chase, in fact it seems downright happy about it. Xander figured that the demons of this world didn't get to hunt their prey very often, judging by the calm acceptance he had seen from the humans around him. The thought sickened him. He would never surrender to this willingly.
He continued to struggle against the large arms that held him. He kicked out with his legs; he clawed and bit. It did nothing except further excite his captor. When he realised that he had been dragged into a darkened room by the thing, he screamed.
The demon began pawing him and snuffling at his neck. Xander was almost violently ill as he felt the vile tongue of the demon taste his skin. He couldn't ever remember being more repulsed than he was at this moment. The demon ripped his shirt from his chest and Xander felt hot salty tears run down his cheeks. For all his earlier bravado, he knew he wouldn't die first. He would endure this and live through it. He felt the demon’s clawed hands at the fastenings of his pants; he closed his eyes and wept with relief as the dizziness overtook him.
Xander opened his eyes to see that he was standing in a classroom. It was night-time and the room was dark, but he recognised it as being his fourth grade classroom at Sunnydale Elementary School. Was this really the same place he had been kept prisoner all this time? As a child he had often felt like a prisoner at school. Life was just full of bitter ironies.
Being careful to make no noise, Xander left the classroom and headed for the front door of the school. He didn't care if he set off the alarms; he was not staying here one more moment. He needed to find out if this world was friendly or not, and he needed to find a place to clean up. A couple of weeks under a hot shower might erase the feel of those clawed hands on his skin, that slimy tongue on his neck; the scent was still lingering on him.
Out the door and into the night he went. At first impression, this place wasn't overrun by demons, but you could never be too careful. Xander kept to the shadows as he moved towards Giles’ apartment complex. So far, he had been the one constant in every shift except the last one. He figured if he was going to find help, there would be the place to look.
Xander stopped outside the door and listened. He could hear voices inside but he wasn't sure whom they belonged to. He hesitated for a minute but finally got up the courage to knock. It couldn't be worse than where he had just been.
The door opened and a very shocked-looking Giles stood there and stared at him. He was sure he looked frightful - half dressed, filthy, covered in demon gore and blood - but he hoped that he would be welcomed inside.
"Xander? Is that really you?"
"Yeah, G-man. It's me. Can I come in?"
Giles did not ask him to enter but he did step aside, allowing Xander entrance to his home if he was able to cross the barrier. Xander, of course, did.
In the living room, five sets of eyes turned to look at him. Willow, Tara, Buffy, Riley ... and Spike. Xander couldn't quite fathom what was wrong with this picture but something was definitely off. He heard Giles talking and spun around to look at him.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?"
"I said, what brings you to Sunnydale and are the others with you?"
"Uh, no others Giles. Just me. Can we ... Can we talk in private for a minute?"
"Of course. Would you like to clean up first? You look like you've spent a week in a hell dimension."
"Two actually, but that's another story. Do you maybe have some clothes I could borrow? I think these need to be ..."
"Burned?"
"Yeah, that or exorcised."
Xander followed Giles upstairs to the bathroom and was handed a clean t-shirt, socks, and a pair of soft grey sweatpants. He smiled in thanks and then closed the door before stripping out of his soiled clothes and setting his journal on the counter. It was now the only thing he owned.
The hot water was a balm to his soul. He scrubbed himself raw with his fingernails and the soap. Every place the demon’s hands had touched received extra scrubbing. He washed his hair until the water ran cold and he had to turn it off. He dried himself slowly, luxuriating in the feel of the soft towel against his newly sensitive skin.
Once he was dressed and feeling a bit more human, he rummaged in the medicine cabinet until he found a spare toothbrush. He thoroughly cleaned his mouth and then drank about five glasses of water. Knowing that he couldn't put it off any longer he picked up his journal, tucked it into the back of his pants and left the bathroom. He knew that Giles would have questions; Giles always had questions.