Prompt 364 - Dystopia - Dystopia - See William the Bloody - BTVS - comlodge

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Title: Dystopia - See William the Bloody

Author: comlodge
Charachters: Spike
Genre: Fiction - Angst - One Shot
Words:  685
Rating: M - Potty mouth Spike in action
Prompt: tamingthemuse Dystopia
Disclaimer: Charachters belong to someone cleverer than I. Just having a free for all play with them. The sandbox is big enough for all of us.
Summary: ATS S5 Spike is sick of being a ghost and feeling sorry for himself...

He wandered the night lit halls of the almost empty office building. Angel’s pet humans had long gone and the great wanker himself was off somewhere that Spike could give a fuck about. He was probably snogging wolf girl, if the hot and heavy looks were anything to go by. Not that the bird would be in any sort of mood for much of that. Not after being offered up as the main course at an all you can eat buffet.

Humans! The bastards could teach any demon a thing or two on the practice of evil doing. He was wandering through the halls of evil inc, run by humans for demons. Nope, mankind had never needed any help from demon kind to bring woe to the world. They did it themselves, too bloody well.

He’d kill for a fag and a jack. Drain the life of a pile of virgins just to be able to cop a feel. Of anything. He was past sick of this non-existence but he knew he’d no right to complain. Not as if he didn’t deserve whatever punishment was meted out to him.  His soul knew he deserved this, deserved every bit of pain the past five years had brought him.

He’d never really thought about what would happen to him, after he wore the bauble of death. He’d been pretty sure that he was going to dust. That’d been the thing though. He’d thought he would simply cease to exist. Vampire equals undead, unsouled so nothing to punish. Demon just doing his job, wasn’t he?

Except now, now when he disappeared, he knew. He knew he wasn’t going to simply cease to exist; to be done; to be wherever the hell he’d been, for those too brief, nineteen days of being not here. No, he saw the chains, felt the fire, the barbs, and the pain. That hadn’t been in the handbook on 101 Ways to Get Your Soul Back. Nothing mentioned about being damned to hell by the very thing you were laying your unlife on the line for.  Bloody PTB’s, must have had a good chortle at the stupid vampire giving up his last chance of utopia for the exact opposite. They must’ve laughed themselves bloody sick, at one stupid, bloody, William the Bloody seeking out his very own dystopia.

Not as if he hadn’t been living in the state of bloody dystopia since the day he set foot in Sunny hell. He punched at the wall beside him and found himself free falling several floors. Fuck! He was never going to get used to this. Fuck, fuck, fuck! FUCK! He ended on the floor of some sub-basement. Again! He sat up and leaned against the wall. He felt the tears prickling the corners of his eyes. He was so bloody lonely and had no idea what to do to save himself.

When had his unlife become this bloody hell he was living. He groaned at the thought.  Fucking poet, poking his head out again. Prague. Prague had led to this. Dru and him had been living the dream. Fucking, fighting, feeding. Vampire utopia. Bloody mob of humans put paid to that by nearly killing the love of his unlife.  He’d brought her to the hell mouth, cured her, lost her to daddy, made a bargain with the enemy and his slide began.

Why was it his fault that he loved his women with all his heart? He gave them everything. He changed for them. He tried for them. He turned his life around for them. He died for them. He didn’t get the girl. All he got was toasted and bloody ghosted! He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and pulled himself to his feet.

“Not going to sit around broodi..., um, moping. Forehead’s probably back now and in need of some reminding of what’s real in this world. Mightn’t be able to do much in this existence but at least I can keep him on the straight and narrow.”

He shrugged his shoulders and started off to do his duty.