Chapter Seven: The Heretic (The Lost Child)

Angelus grunts, a mixture of pain and pleasure, as Drusilla slowly, torturously drives into him using the same fourteen inch, stainless steel phallus Buffy had used in breaking Xander. After snatching the instrument up the insane vampiress hadn't bothered with cleaning the fledglings blood off, deciding instead that she could now bestow upon Daddy all the love he had shown her. Only this time he would be the naughty child in need of punishment.

He didn't mind. Not really anyway. Anything that would keep his princess happy he'd be willing to do.

Angelus can still see the events of the last few hours as clearly as if they had just happened. Xander falling in a heap as Buffy drops him to the floor, his body covered with smoldering burns from where the raging blonde had impaled him over and over again with the silver cross he had given her little more then a year ago- the first night they had met in fact- any place that could be covered up, his arms, thighs, chest- with the exception of the area around his heart. His face and hands she had left completely alone.

After nearly two hours he had thought she was done, that her rage had been spent and the boy broken. He didn't know many vampires that could have withstood that kind of punishment. The Master, maybe. He would have enjoyed seeing it though considering how the old blow hard had treated him during their one and only encounter.

Buffy however still hadn't felt her point, so to speak, had been driven home yet. With a cold light burning in her eyes she made a slow, deliberate, almost sinister show of stripping off her clothes, revealing her nearly perfect, still slightly sun dark body to everyone present. Opening the leather duffel bag- he had nearly forgotten about- that she had dropped from the catwalk after first arriving. What she pulls out causes just about every mouth, that was still close, to fall open. A bright, shiny stainless steel strap on dildo more then a foot in length and as thick as a large man's wrist.

Xander had made an attempt to get away while Buffy slowly, languorously straps herself up. Only the damage had already been done, his body broken. Now she needs to exert her will over him, show him exactly what it means to defy her.

The fear wafting up from him as Buffy draws closer was one of the most exotic, almost intoxicating, aromas any of the vampires had ever inhaled before. "What's the matter Xan," the tiny blonde had taunted him as she slowly circles him like a shark. "This is what you've been dreaming about. This is your shot to have sex with me, the girl you've been lusting after since you first laid eyes on me. The girl you knew you could never have, not that it kept you from acting like the possessive little bastard you are. Well you're about to get your wish, although in your fantasies you're probably the fucker and I'm the fuckee. Guess that old saying is true, you really should be more careful about what you wish for."

Xander had squirmed, he pleaded, begged, whimpered. He tried to resist, albeit feebly. None of it mattered to Buffy. Her only desire had been seeing him suffer. She swatted aside his defenses, turned a deaf ear to his cries for mercy, and took as brutally, as painfully as she could her revenge for whatever slight she convinced herself he had inflicted on her.

He groans at the sensation of his little princess sawing slowly, painfully, inch by inch into him. Whenever he had sex with any male minions they've kept over the centuries it was about domination, and he was always the one that was dominating. This was the first time anyone had ever been inside of him it was painful, it was brutal, and he was loving every intensely pleasurable second of it.

As Drusilla buries the wrist think piece of steel in his ass making him feel like he was being split in two, he wonders where Buffy had found the strap on. He never saw the tiny slayer as the type of girl to know where the sex stores are in Sunnydale. Nor did he think she would have the wherewithal to find one.

Drusilla laces her fingers through Angelus' thick mane of black hair jerking his head back roughly, painfully as drives the phallus in to the very hilt. Angelus' face contorts in pain as the agonizing sensations burns through his body. Through the haze of pain the master vampire could feel her rock hard nipples, like spear points, as they jab into his back. He can't ever recall a time he's felt her nipples so hard before.

"Feels wonderful doesn't it?" She purrs softly a moment before she licks up the side of his neck. Her face shifts slightly as she allows her vampiric features to slide into place. A second later she buries her fangs into his throat. At the same time she draws her hips back almost completely existing his anus. Only the tip of the metallic dildo was still inside him.

She holds completely still, simply hovering above him, ghost like for several minutes as she luxuriously sips at his powerful blood. Just until Angelus tries to raise his ass to bury her back inside him. At that she raises her hips to maintain her exact position.

Her can feel her lips barely move as she murmurs softly against his skin. "Impatient little boy aren't you? Can't wait to have your poor little bum punished for all your wicked ways." He had often drunk from her, nice and slow, while slamming into her, draining her almost completely back in the early years after he first turned her.

"I'm the daddy now," she growls driving the phallus back in to its hilt in one smooth stroke. "You've been a bad, bad child," she states pulling out and driving back in. "Going to hurt our little sister because she changed the game and threw out the rules without ever showing you what they were." She manages three quick, short, sharp pumps while making her statement. "Chaos swirls around her like no other, alone in her fiery darkness," she hisses shortly.

She knew it wasn't quite true. Knew there was one that was going to stand beside Buffy no matter what, just as he had stood beside her for more then a century. While there were flashes of jealousy, like quick heat lightening bursting in a cloudless sky, she knew it was suppose to be this way. That she had just been his caretaker in getting him to her little sister.

Angelus groans, pants, moans as Drusilla builds her tempo driving him into the mattress on each and every downward thrust. All the while she slowly sips his blood and he savors the duel sensations.

The large wheels of Spike's chair squeak softly as Billy Bob pushes the century old master vampire towards his room. The reason Spike isn't pushing himself is the tiny, still very nude, blood soak blonde he's cradling in his arms. A soft, contented smile creases her lips as she dozes lightly.

Spike had come in at the end of her little demonstration of what will happen to anyone who defies her, and while a few would enjoy the reaming she was bestowing upon the lanky brunette he doubts if any of them would enjoy her fingers buried into their flesh as she drives into them at a full gallop. The young vampire hadn't even been whimpering by this point. He just lay there taking it, and taking it hard.

In all his years Spike doesn't think he's ever seen anyone as broken as the whelp. He was glad he had told Angie to go and have herself a little fun for the night. This was nothing he wants his childe to see ever. He knew she would eventually, but for the time he wants to keep her as innocent as possible. He didn't know what she was like when she was alive but he could guess judging by the tough front that did little to hide her naivete.

Angelus was grinning madly while Drusilla was practically dancing with glee. Spike would hate to be the bloody poofter tonight, but knowing the blighter as well as he does he doubts Angelus is going to be complaining to much about it.

Of course Buffy had looked, still looks, absolutely incredible. The pure rapture that had been shinning in her face as she rode her one time friend into the concrete. There was a soft glow surrounding her, almost making her appear to be some kind of ephemeral being, a higher power, or some kind of dark goddess.

Billy Bob swings the chair around to push the door open and then pull the two master vampires into the room. Swinging the chair back around Spike now faces the interior of his room, the room that use to be his and Drusilla's. Back before that bloody ponce had come back on the scene. The thick body minion pushes him further into the room.

"Get out," Spike growls softly. He had been able to feel the tension building in the former slayer's body ever since dropping her tight, lithe form onto his lap. She was doing a good job at keeping it hidden from the casual observer, but sitting on top of him he could feel the slight tremors wracking her body.

"What?" Billy Bob mumbles stupidly.

Spike looks back over his shoulder at the large minion with a dangerous fire burning in his eyes. "Get the bloody hell out of here," he hisses as the vampire stumbles back a step, "fore I rip your leg off and pound you into a bloody smear all over the sodding floor."

Billy Bob stumbles back nearly falling through the doorway. "And close that buggering door behind you!" He shouts after him, a fraction of a second later the heavy steel door bangs shut behind him. Spike waits another minute making sure that nobody else is coming.

Gingerly he shifts one leg placing it on the floor. His other leg soon follows the first. With a deep steadying breath he stands up. It was the first time since the slayer had dropped an organ on him that he's done so. He thought it was rather ironic that he should be standing for the first time because of her. Over the past couple of days he had found his strength returning, his legs gaining back more and more feeling, but he still hadn't been sure if he was going to be able to stand or not.

He also knew that he couldn't allow any other vampire touch Buffy while she was like this. There was no way he was going to let word get back to Angelus that something was wrong with her.

Slowly he places one foot in front of the other as he staggers and stumbles the few feet to his bed. Each step was a slow torture as he feels his strength fade quickly, rushing from his body. Gritting his teeth he shoves the pain aside. Digging, reaching down deep inside of himself for those reserves of tenacity that he's always been able to call upon when it seems all odds are stacked against him. His damn English pride that refuses to allow him to quite or give in no matter what he faces.

He manages to keep his feet under him. Reaching his bed he places Buffy on the soft mattress a moment before his legs give out and he plummets towards the floor.

Buffy's eyes snap open as she senses Spike's distress. Seeing him falling to the floor her arm snaps out latching onto him, keeping him from hitting the floor. Holding him up for a minute the two of them lock eyes for the brief moment. Something, almost like a spark shoots between them. As easily and with as much care as she would picking up a new born child she pulls him into the bed with her.

"Just hold me," she pleads mournfully.

Spike wasn't even sure she had spoken with how softly her words had been. Not that it matters to him. He heard what he heard and that's all he cares about. Grabbing the edge of the heavy quilt he pulls the blanket up and over covering them both. Wrapping his left arm around her bare waist he pulls her nude body tight against him while his right hand softly strokes her golden hair.

Angie hums a marry little tune as she glides down the ramp. Tonight had been an extremely good night for the young vampire. She had fed plus she had gotten laid. Best of all she had done both at the same time.

It was the first time since being turned that she could say that. It had also been the first time she had been left to her own devices. Buffy was an extremely prudish person, vampire, when it came to sex mouthing all kinds of platitudes, that she only paid half an ear to, about being in love with the person before sleeping with them.

Angie however couldn't complain that much about Buffy. The tiny blonde vampiress was wicked in a lot of other ways. While their personal taste in clothes were never going to mesh she had a way of finding what went best with a person. Her own outfit reflected that, still dark, gothic, and kind of grunge, but now more stylized.

She almost felt like a sellout, but she also felt more confident as well. Which might have more to do with the fact that she is a vampire then anything else. It was just so damn hard to say no to Buffy. There was this torrent of energy she exudes that can just sweep a person up and they have trouble holding onto who they are and afterwards they can only wonder what had happened to them. Sort of like going to a party, getting so drunk that the next day you can't believe half the things you did the night before.

The one thing she had found out tonight was she could never have a long term relationship with a human. Not that she was actually considering having one, but now that she knew a couple of the problems- One, they were far too breakable. Two, they were far too snackable- it was completely out of her mind.

She had found tonight's meal at the Bronze, some twenty something year old collage student that had been buying her drinks most of the night. It didn't take much effort to convince him to take her back to his place.

The amusing part had been the fact the guy, Roger she thought his name was, had a ceiling mirror over his bed. She had made sure to keep his attention off the mirror and focused solely on her during their super hot make out session that got all the foreplay out of the way. To start he had been on top, her mouth devouring his as she smoothly, almost instinctively guided him into her. Between her fiery, passionate kisses where she nearly sucks his tongue clean out of his mouth and his rough treatment of her tits with both his hands and mouth he never once got the chance to look into his mirror.

She did though. It was almost comical the scene she was watching. The young man looks as if he was frantically rutting into his mattress. His frenzied pace, as his hips buck back and forth into nothing that can be seen in the reflective surface was nearly enough to make Angie burst from laughter. She didn't though. The feel of him moving inside of her was the most exquisite thing she can think of at the time, the only thing.

That was until a different kind of desire begin building inside of her as the demon begins to rise to the forefront. While that side of her was enjoying the fucking it was receiving it wants more. It wants pain. It wants to smell this mans fear permeating everything the moment before his death.

Unable and unwilling to resist the new side of her nature she had pulled his arms, that were holding him up, out from under him almost hard enough to rip them clean out of their sockets but that would have been a waste of blood and she was growing hungrier by the second. As he began to fall towards her she had bucked slightly flipping them over so she was on top. She buries her head in the crook of his neck and begins nibbling on the soft flesh with her blunt teeth while her pelvis begins slamming into him at an inhuman pace.

He screams out as his hip shatters under the force of the impact. His fear spikes radically and she realizes he must be looking up into the mirror and all he can see on the bed is his own body. The smell sends her into an even wilder frenzy as she pulls her head back revealing her true face. Heavy brow ridges, razor sharp fangs. He screams again, struggling pitifully, bucking wildly in an attempt to dislodge her, which only made the moment all the sweeter. Her smile widens all the more a moment before she descends on his throat sinking her fangs into his soft flesh before he can move to block her.

She drains him almost instantly, the scent of fear in the air, the sensation of his life sliding down her throat while at the same time he spills his seed into her brings her over the edge as the most blindingly intense orgasm of her life rips through her. She doesn't know how long she was past out for, but when she came to her fangs were still buried in his throat while he penis was still buried in her vagina. Without any aplomb or fanfare she slips off him and him out of her, her face shifting back to her human guise.

Now, almost half an hour later, still a good hour before dawn she descends deeper into the factory. She can sense something was out of place. Wrong. She could feel all the members of her family nearby, plus the majority of the minions kept by the old masters to maintain the massive building. In a way it was almost like living in an old time castle where there were lords and servants.

Angie had the feeling that under most circumstances she would have been considered nothing more then another minion, and low woman on the totem pole if not for Buffy taking an interest in her. She was glad for that, whatever Buffy's reason for it, since she had no desire to go back to the kind of existence she had been living prior to running away from home. Getting away from this family would not be as easy as getting away from the one she had been born into.

At first she picks up the stale scent of blood, which considering where she was didn't surprise her. Only there was something different about this aroma, like it was familiar to her, but she can't place it.

Having no idea what was waiting for her she quickly slides into the shadows, just like Buffy has shown her to do, making herself a part of them. She glides from shadow to shadow moving faster then she's ever moved in her life, or her unlife. Stopping dead in her tracks as the factory floor comes into view, her eyes locking in on the smoky ruins of Xander's body. Turning her head away in revulsion she just manages to suppress the urge to empty her stomach.

His body was riddled with holes. Most black craters, a few of which were still sending up slight tendrils of dark, wispy smoke. There were a handful of holes, literally, around his shoulders that are completely different from the rest, looking more like someone had driven their fingers into his body to gain leverage. What the leverage was for was obvious.

She turns back around, still fighting the urge to vomit, muttering, "what the fuck happened?" Approaching him cautiously she scans the area making sure this isn't some kind of trap for the fledglings that have been set above the elder minions by the groups masters.

Reaching Xander she gently rolls him over, and gasps at a sight even more horrific then his back. His chest was covered in at least twice as many scorched holes then his back. The only places untouched were his face, hands, and his heart. Whoever had done this to him had wanted him to live through his suffering.

Gingerly she lifts him up into her small arms. "Don't worry Xan. I'll get you cleaned up then I'll go get Buffy. She'll make sure whoever did this to you pays for it," she growls savagely. Obviously he had to have been caught out alone and this was some sort of massage, or maybe just for fun. Somehow Xander had managed to escape and get back here where he collapsed.

Xander whimpers softly saying a single word. "Buffy."

"I know," Angie assures him. "She'll take care of everything."

Angie's hand falters a fraction of an inch from the thick steel of Spike's bedroom door. She had scoured the entire factory in her search for Buffy but she hadn't been able to find a single trace of her anywhere.

Until now.

Until Buffy's soft despair filled whimper brought her hand to a stop.

"I've never been... I've never wanted to hurt somebody so much in my life," the tiny blondes soft plea carries to her extremely sensitive ears. They were spoken so softly, like words carried on a gentle breeze, Angie could almost convince herself they hadn't been real.

"You're a vampire luv," Spike replies. "Its who you are, what you are. You did nothing to the whelp he didn't bring on himself. Knew he and the others weren't suppose to..."

Buffy's sardonic chuckle cuts him off.

Angie shakes her head as the silence in the room stretches on for a long, indeterminate moment before Spike finally asks, "what?"

"I was a heartbeat from turning Willow," Buffy admits almost too softly for Angie to hear. Her voice was tinted with a mixture of emotions running the gamut from anger to guilt to desire. "It took everything I had to restrain myself."

"Vampires turn people."

"Is that even what I am?" Buffy demands her voice rift with anger, confusion, doubt. "Feel," Angie hears her hiss.

There's a brief pause right before Spike's sharp gasp. "What the bloody... You're warm."

"And getting hotter," Buffy quips in an angry whisper.

"How?" Spike questions his voice almost covered by a soft rustling as somebody shifts on the bed. "Why? Just what the bloody hell is going on here?"

"I don't know," Buffy responds warily just before somebody else shifting their position on the bed causes more rustling. "I don't feed enough my body heats up. I feed, the turmoil, the loathing I feel inside fades."

Another brief pause occurs during which time Spike must have asked her a question to low for her to hear. A moment later Buffy's malicious laughter fills the room just before she says, "for all I know its the slayer still trying to kill the vampire. I doubt if it cares very much that its killing itself in the process, or that its taking me along for the ride."

Angie backs up until her back hits the far wall. Her mind awash with distressing thoughts. What Buffy said, it can't be true. She couldn't be dying. It wasn't possible, it couldn't be. Buffy is invincible. There isn't anything in the world that can beat her. Nothing.

That was only part of the thoughts racing through Angie's mind.

One part is in denial over Buffy's admittance.

The other part is in denial over Buffy's admittance.

She was the one that had beat, brutalized, and raped Xander. That it wasn't some plot by the minions to exact their revenge, or a display their displeasure over two fledglings being placed above them.

After everything she had said about the clan coming before everything. That they weren't suppose to raise a hand to each other.

She was the one that had nearly ripped Xander in half.

All because of some human. Something that was nothing more then a meal to them.

It wasn't possible. None of it. Neither of them.

One Buffy couldn't do.

The other couldn't be done to Buffy.

Could she? Could Buffy had done that to Xander? Was she capable of that kind of brutality?

Angie had seen Buffy feed. The tiny blonde could go from playful to vicious in a heartbeat, but she had never seen her be cruel to anyone.

Buffy was a vampire though. All vampires are cruel, vicious, spiteful, vengeful, and malicious creatures. It was just a matter of degrees.

She knew she, herself could be all of those things so why couldn't Buffy be them as well.

Because that just wasn't what Buffy was like. At least not to family. To clan. Maybe to humans, the pitiful little mortals who think they control the world. But not to her own clan.

Angie looks up suddenly, just now realizing she is still standing in front of Spike's bedroom door, as she becomes aware of an intense gaze.

Standing there; burning, imploring, mournful, soulful, hazel eyes that pin her to where she stands, is Buffy. Angie swallows hard as she stares upon Buffy's bare, blood smeared body. The blonde vampiress' body was incredible. Not perfect, with breast that were even too small for her tiny frame, but it was close. Her skin was smooth, still holding a slight tan, covering tone, taut muscles.

Angie found herself having a hard time keeping her eyes locked on Buffy's. With no concern for what she wants they continually graze over Buffy's nude body.

Saying nothing Buffy simply holds her hand out to the young girl. Again Angie swallows reflexively knowing there is no way she could deny Buffy anything. Even if it means her own death.

Stepping forward, lifting her hand she takes hold of Buffy's. The two small hands grasping hold of each other as Buffy draws Angie into Spike's room.

The heavy steel door swings shut behind them closing with a heavy metallic clang.

Silence once again reigns in the library and once again Giles finds it to be an unholy sound that does not belong. Unlike the day previous he found this silence to be a bit more profound.

Cordelia was at Willow's side. The brunette was actually cradling Willow's left hand in both of hers, comforting the smaller girl. A sight the librarian had never thought he would see considering the history between the two girls.

Then again this past week had thrown a lot of things at him he wishes he had never seen. At least this one, on the surface, could be taken as a good sign.

Jenny knelt on Willow's right side gingerly re-bandaging her neck. She had already taken care of a number of tiny cuts and abrasions along Willow's hands and forearms.

Oz is behind and off to the side of Jenny giving the teacher the room she needs to work on Willow. There was a pensive look on his face. Which wasn't surprising considering the events of the last few days.

Amy is sitting behind him at the large table seemingly engrossed in a large and extremely ancient tomb and paying no attention to the events taking place around her.

Willow had recounted the harrowing events she had endured just after dusk last evening along with her reasoning for not calling anybody after the altercation. Her fear that maybe Angel or Drusilla or Spike might be waiting in ambush and Buffy wouldn't be able save everyone.

Giles could tell Willow was holding some part of her encounter with Xander and Buffy back. That Xander had attacked her was obvious. That Buffy had come to her rescue was equally obvious.

There was still more to it though. As Buffy would no doubt say, his spider-sense was going off.

It was also very easy to determine what she is holding back. The most probable event was that Buffy attacked her as well and she somehow managed to escape.

"There we go," Jenny says rising back to her feet. As she stands she catches Giles' speculative look. She can only imagine what he is thinking, but if his thoughts are anything like her own- that Buffy, after saving Willow from Xander, had attacked the redhead herself- then they were all in trouble.

"What exactly happened after Buffy arrived?" Giles asks her patiently.

"She already told you what happened," Oz snaps taking exception with the older man's tone. Hearing an accusation where there might not be one.

"Of course," Giles murmurs placating the young man.

Willow grabs hold of Oz's hand squeezing tightly to keep the young man at her side. They had only been dating since shortly after Buffy's birthday but she was already depending on him quite a lot. "It's okay," she says softly.

"Buffy went after you didn't she? Once she dealt with Xander," Jenny states in a tone that doesn't give Willow a chance to deny it.

Willow swallows tightly. She wants to deny Jenny's statement but she can't. She had never been a very good liar. Unable to answer the question she dips her head looking down at the floor, a few tears sliding down her cheeks. After a few tense moments she exhales deeply.

"At first it was almost like it had been," Willow begins in a halting voice that gains a little strength as she continues. "Buffy was there rescuing me from danger just like old times, only... She was different. Her eyes... She was so different, so... Hungry. It was like being trapped in a cage with a starving tiger, but she's still Buffy. She wouldn't hurt me! She couldn't!"

"But she wants to," Jenny cuttingly remarks.

"No!" Willow responds just a little to vehemently. "She didn't," she begins a little softer after a brief pause. "She will never do anything to hurt us."

Giles give his head a slight shake as he closes his eyes while rubbing his temples between his thumb and forefinger. Opening his eyes to look at her he says, "we'd all like to believe that. We just don't know if its true."

"Yes we do," Willow disagrees. "She was the one that came up with restoring their souls. She's the one that wants us in before dusk, she brought the de-invitation spell to our attention. All of that to keep us safe."

"To keep us safe, or to her safe?" Cordelia asks tightening her grip on Willow's hand so the younger girl can't pull away. "Sure she's keeping us safe from them but she's also keeping herself safe from doing something she knows she'll regret later. Plus if one of gets turned they're going to blab all about Buffy's plan which we can all assume their not going to be too pleased with it or her."

Giles blinks at the comment wondering who could have imagined that Cordelia Chase would be able to grasp all the relative points of the situation as it stands now. He gives his head a quick shake to clear out the stunned amazement. Refocusing he says, "we can't allow ourselves to lose sight of the fact that the Buffy we're dealing with isn't the Buffy we've known for more then a year now."

"And just what has caused such a change in the vampire slayer?" A very distinctive Caribbean voice questions from the front railing of the stacks. The sound of the confident voice pulls everyone's eyes to the young black woman standing there. Her stern expression washing over the entire room as she takes in the occupants gathered around the table. "What has happened to my sister slayer?" Kendra inquires in a harsh tone that leaves a chill in everyone's bones.

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The Heretic (The Lost Child) - W.A.S.P.

These fits of depression are torturing me
The lives that I've seen won't breath again
A sad child of madness, they'll never be free
Born again to die, the agonies begin


And soldiers keep coming - like warriors they die
But gang land's alive when mothers cry
Cause hate's blind addictions, a killing machine
And it burns on the fuel of shattered lives

lost child

lost child

The seeds of all evil are sown in their minds
And harvest the sad fields of woe
Cause dead boys are martyr
That live on forever
But now it's too late for their souls


Standing on sanities too fragile edge
And worship the Lord of Flies
And wade through the slaughter
You've made of thy brother
And drown in his blood then when he dies

You see in their eyes
They're the lost child
See in their eyes
You see in their eyes
They're the lost child
See in their eyes

Don't turn out the lights
Cause there's demons in the night
And they prey on the fears in us all
They hide inside and wait
And they shun the light of day
The screams in their dreams fill us all

Children of a night
Such a sad tune they rhyme
The bloody boys that sing a wicked song
And for all of them they're just memories in the wind

Rise and see
It's the down of insanity
Keeper of the gates of fire
And the Heretic has said
You don't have to be afraid
Till I, until I come to get ya


And child in time
On the swords edge you ride
And cast a spell of Heresy
And die in vain
Like a wild dog in chains
That no one can save
Or set you free