A snippet from Hell

by Lost

[reviews]

Who am I? For that matter, who is anyone? We all label ourselves, taking our time through out such a short and human life span to 'define' ourselves. But does any of it really matter? Especially when actions speak louder than words; at least that's how the saying goes. It wasn't a saying that was around when I was alive, but I've heard it none the less. It didn't take me long to realize that I believe it could be true. It just depends on the action. Slaughtering your own family would be an action loud enough I think. Since I've done it after all. But not until they begged me for the end. Hank and Joyce Summers' popular little girl tortured them to no end. And never once did it cross their minds that I was anything other than human. But it was fun. I lean down, examining the tools displayed before me. All of them are neatly cleaned, some sharp, some dull. All shine from the overhead light. Which one to use? Her knees are already broken, so that takes the mallet out of the mix. At least until they heal. Shouldn't take long, slayer healing and everything. She'll break soon enough. Just a couple more broken bones, maybe some cut off parts, hell, might even throw in some burning; haven't done that in a while. I'll have my answers.

Countless torture methods float through my mind while I try to decide which tool to use this time. It was a game Angelus and I used to play, seeing who could come up with the most obscure methods of torture. I smile lightly as a memory floats into my head at the suggestion of skinning.

I grab a long sharp serrated bread knife that got picked up a few years back when my rampage for Angelus began. My favorite brother had gone missing, as he still was. But this little girl, this slayer chained up before me, knows where he is. I walk idly over to her, tossing the knife up and down in the air, watching as her eyes follow its path and flash as the light hits it. This is going to be fun. "So, where is he then?"

I know she isn't going to answer, she can't. My Sire placed an old dirty rag in her mouth so that she doesn't have to listen to her screams. But I can still ask. It'll add extra incentive to answer me once the gag is removed. I lightly drag the blade over her naked torso, and even as she shakes and goose bumps rise up on her skin, I laugh. I let the blade do its own work, slicing through the thin layer of skin on her left breast like warm butter. Through the gag I can hear her scream as the tip of her nipple gets shaved off. "Ready to talk? Tell me where my brother is!" I set the knife down, and use my fingers, I gouge them roughly into her bleeding chest and curl them down, peeling the skin off from the underside of her breast to where her hip bone juts out. My eyes flash yellow as I bring my wet digits up to my mouth and lick them clean.

I reach up and slowly remove the gag. "Where have you hidden him?"

She raises her tear filled eyes to mine, her breath heavy as she leans her head back. And spittle lands on my face. "Go fuck yourself B!"

I wipe the saliva away with my sleeve and shove the gag back in place, shaking my head as I do it. "Tut tut Faithy, that's not the answer I was looking for." I pick the knife back up and make like I'm going to gut her with it, just to watch the terror that slides over her face. I set the instrument back on the table, grabbing a bottle of Everclear and taking a swig . Gotta remember to clean that later. I turn back to her and saunter over, taking in the blood that was cascading down her side. I reach in and hold her still and let my tongue slash out to take in the crimson liquid, purposefully leaving the hundred and ninety proof alcohol in my mouth to help burn her open wound. Its slayer blood laced with terror, anger, and excitement. She jerks back from me, and looks as if she'll cry out, but that doesn't matter. She's chained in place; she couldn't get out even if she really wanted to. But she doesn't, at least not right now. I can smell her arousal wafting off of her in thick waves, permeating the air all around both of us. As I lap at the blood and let the liquid slip from my mouth, my hand moves from its spot on her stomach, swiftly making its way down to her sex.

I hear the door behind me open and a light is cast over her writhing form. I know that she wants it, at least from me. But well; can't have that. This is supposed to be torture after all, not fuck the slayer for fun hour. Besides which, what would Willow think? Especially with Faith here being so turned on that her juices seem to be flowing down from in between her legs. That's just it though; she wants it. She craves it from me, but not from him. Turning I take in Spike as he lets himself into the Slayer's own personal hell. "Hello Luv." He smiles manically around a mouth full of sharp teeth and I can see he's turned on through his tight jeans.

I smile back at him, "Spike. Welcome. My turn's up then?" I glance over at the door and see Willow. He nods and I mock pout at him, feigning disappointment at not getting to play any longer. My sire makes a come hither motion with her finger and I let my fingers just barely brush over the slayer's slick sex, laughing when she bucks forward. "Nuh uh," I lean down and whisper against her ear, ignoring the blood that's still pouring down the side of her face from my earlier torture, "I only fuck my sire. Sorry."

I step away from our so called victim and give my brother a wink. Spike nods and I see him unzip his pants and his cock springs out. I glance back at Faith and laugh again at the shock in her eyes. There's a pain there that I can already see developing. I reach up and pat her cheek roughly. "Have fun Faithy." Then I lean forward again, this time letting my tongue run up the side of her face to lick some blood off, "See, you shoulda just told me. Woulda been better for you in the end." I pause, savoring the flavor of her life for a moment, and chuckle darkly, "Or rather your end." And with that I walk away. I hear Spike roughly rip the gag from her mouth. But it doesn't matter if she screams now, our sire is awake.

She shuts the door behind me as I walk out and before I even have a chance to realize how aroused she is, I'm pinned up against the door; her mouth firmly attached to mine. I can feel her tongue roughly making itself familiar with my mouth again, the same way she did years ago before she turned me. She pulls back slightly and I stare into amber eyes. "Mmm, Slayer Blood. There's nothing else like it." She smacks her lips together in approval, smiles wickedly at me, and then continues. "I remember how yours tasted." She leans forward and bites down hard on the scar she left so many years ago on my neck and bliss rushes through my veins.

I nod but don't answer, instead turn, so that I have her up against the door and shove my hand down her leather pants, never pausing at the dampness I find there. I give her clit a quick stroke and lightly pinch it between my middle and pointer finger while I nibble my way down her throat, using only my blunt human teeth. I'll bite her for real in a minute, first though; I plunge three fingers in her at once. I take in her gasp as approval before I start pumping into her. Hard and fast, letting my the base thumb hit against her nub with each stroke. I use my free hand unzip her pants and pull them down slightly, giving me more leverage. She likes to be fucked hard, and I know it. I can feel her muscles clenching around my fingers as her first orgasm starts to rip through her body. I pull my fingers out of her tight channel all the way before adding a fourth to the mix and shoving them back into her, this time letting my palm smack against her clit. I quit fighting my compulsion not to shift and I bite down on her jugular breaking the skin. She tenses slightly before going limp all around my hand and I withdraw my fingers, bringing them up to my mouth to lick them clean. I smile at the flavor of her coppery blood and juices as they mix. I lean down and lick the slight mark closed, and I can feel her shaking subside.

She reaches her hand down and I can feel as she starts to stroke me through my pants, her fingers work nimbly at the button and zipper, making short work of them. She lets her finger dip down into my moist folds and I suppress a shudder. A scream rips through the air around us and she pushes me away roughly. "Want to watch?" She pulls the leather back up, covering her sex from the exposed air and I almost pout.

Her visage is that of what she must have looked like while she was alive, and the way that it was when I first met her those years ago. I nod slightly and she opens the door I just used as our support, "Come Childe." She turns from me then, and walks into the room; letting her hips sway seductively. She sits down on the only chair in the room and turns her head, waiting for me to follow. I don't like to keep her waiting, especially with such a show going on; I join her quickly. For a second I contemplate straddling her so I can fuck her again while she watches Faith get raped, but then turn the idea down. I can't miss the show after all. There'll be plenty of time for Sire Fucking after we get Angelus back. So I take a seat in front of her on the ground, leaning against her legs. I look at the slayer chained in front of us. Spike replaced the dirty cloth I had stuffed in her mouth with a ball gag.

I watched with more than a little bit of humor racing through my undead veins as he tugged on her lips, making them bleed from the corners and she screams. Tears start running down her face and a soft laugh escapes my lips before I glance over at my lover. The raven haired girl has her complete attention, and I turn back and forth between watching the two of them. Faith's face has a look of pure horror etched in it as I watch Spike separate her legs from behind and she starts to cry. The blonde vampire leans forward and I can hear him repeat what I had told her earlier as he rubs the head of his dick up and down her ass crack. Her expression changes from horror to anger and I can hear her as she tries to scream at him around the ball, her tone conveying nothing but anger and hatred. She yanks at the chains, hard, and blood starts to seep from her wrists. I look at my sire, she looks as if she's watching the best movie she's ever seen and is fascinated beyond belief. I reach my hand up to rest on where the inseam of her pants should be and start moving my fingers up and down her thigh.

A scream of pain rips through the room and my attention jolts back to the slayer; tears have started running full force down her cheeks as Spike pounds her from behind. The smell of her fresh blood assaults my senses again as my brother goes at her harder. There's a tiny bit of drool dripping down her chin, mingling with her tears, sweat, blood and cries; and I cant help but be happy that this bitch is finally getting what's coming to her. I told her she should have jus told us where he was. I shrug mentally. Oh well, her loss. She'll die soon enough. Until then though, I'm sure Spike and I can come up with a few more ways of making her cry. And if that doesn't work, well, Willow always was brilliant at torturing.


A/N: This was just gonna be my own lil' snippet. But well, why not post it right? -L.