No home like Hell: Even chaos needs to be organized
The hotel was empty, as it had been for days now, everyone off doing their own thing. Everyone but Spike. The vampire lay in his room, his blankets cast from his bed in the constant shifting, his desk overturned in the corner, paper spilled across the floor, his wooden chair in pieces here and there. The curtains were ripped down from the windows, one of the doors to his wardrobe hanged from only the bottom hinge, a crack running down the center. Clothes were tossed everywhere, some purposefully torn apart, nothing was safe from the anger, even the gym had suffered from Spike’s rage which had been held in far too long. The computer room Spike had set up for himself had a few computers with broken screens, but otherwise it had been spared, the papers obtaining the worse of Spike’s temper at that time. It would come almost without warning, it would come and then he’d go into a fury and then it would go and he’d feel weaker and out of control and as if he was just falling apart – which he was.
But it was ok, because no one was around, no one could see him in this way. He just had to get a hold of himself, that’s what he kept saying, just had to stop and take a breath… It hadn’t worked, it was like Spike wasn’t even there any more, his mind elsewhere as his body moved. The room now filled with the stench of cigarette smoke, knowing Arisa’s sense of smell had helped Spike quit easily enough, only smoking when he was down at the bar, but she wasn’t here now… She had places to be, people to be with.
The filters stopped touching his lips though, it had been about three minutes since he took a puff, his mind so distant he barely realized he was pressing the lit end down against his own thigh. The black trousers were riddled with six other burn holes, every cigarette punished at the end with a burn. It had been the way it was done back in Lost Angels, if he wanted to smoke, he had to suffer for it, Dru was there to make sure he followed through, it had always been the way, everything was rewarded with suffering, even love.
A red shirt was worn unbuttoned, his hair curled a little due to the lack of gel, but it was short enough not to go all dorky looking on him – as he refers to his old style back when he was human. The aching burn in his stomach was bad, he last longer with feeding because of Arisa’s blood, but Beast told him no more, and Spike felt the same… no more… But he wanted more, he wanted so much more! A pained frown flickered over the paled features, Spike realizing the burns he was automatically causing himself out of habit, a disgusted look given as he tossed the bud aside with the rest on the flood beside the bed.
Nothing but pigs blood, foul, repulsive, terribly sickening PIGS blood! Spike leaned forward in frustration, slamming his back hard against the wall behind him. Who could eat that grot? How could they stomach it? Every time he tried he’d toss it right back up, sickening to see himself do it he didn’t want to even wonder what anyone else thought if they saw. He was hungry, and deprived of physical pleasure, he couldn’t survive without either, he’d always had a steady supply of anything he wanted. Now Arisa was gone, Rogue was gone, he had nothing!
What would they do should they see him? Pity no doubt… pity and loath at how dependent he was, it was sickening in itself. Maybe, maybe if he just went out… last time he was out hunting demons he saw a girl, couldn’t be any older then twenty, beautiful, sweet… She was in the ally behind her boyfriends house, waiting for him to sneak out the back and meet her… Spike could hear their planning over the phone before she hanged up. She was waiting for him, waiting for the chance to be with him, to share time with him, to explore different pleasures with him… She had seen Spike, seen him standing at the end of the ally, caught off guard by the desire he had to strike her, take her as he would have possibly done a year or so ago.. to take all she offered, her body, her blood… it should have been his, and he hungered for it before he realized he had even taken a step. The fear was riveting, like a drug he had forgotten the pleasures of, the hunger driving him on and yet the soul pinning him still the instant he regained realized what he was wishing for.
She called for her male, who run out the door at his name, but when she pointed to where Spike had been standing there was nothing, not even a shadow. And while Spike refused to leave the hotel until he sorted out his hunger, he realized it wasn’t as easy a task as he had hoped for. And the sun burned harder in his weaker state, he was just waiting for the night to come, just waiting for a chance to get back to the school and stop the pain, the evil thoughts, the sinful wishes…
Shifting position, Spike sat knelling on his bed, leaning down to let his nose nuzzle the under covers he sat upon, Golden eyes closed away as Spike’s demonic visage remained unfaltering upon his face. Fanged teeth bit down into the cloth, palms of his hands resting down on the bed to support him. A frustrated growl grumbling out from the undead’s throat, pill the cloth back with his teeth and ripping it… pointless as it was, it passed time and kept him busy, not that Spike was exactly thinking a great deal at the moment, more possessed by his feral instincts then his own humanity.
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