FIC - Bitter Sweet (BtVS)
Title: Bitter Sweet
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: none
Warnings: One Really Rambling Sentence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 615
Summary: Making plans helps.
Devil take ‘em, he’d not been this cold since he’d first turned.
He gripped the edges of his coat, pleased and amazed he’d stumbled into just the right room to hide from the barmy bastards intent on taking him back - not prey, not prey - burning their fear and hatred onto his skin with tools and toys humans hadn’t had for more than a handful of years, all comfortable in their newfound power - not prey, not prey - and he was going to make sure it was a short-lived high because once he was fed, warm and full for the first time in days, he was going to go back, track them in the old ways, the real ways that nature decreed he was most worthy as hunter - not prey, not prey - because he was better’n ‘em, he was, always better, faster, stronger, reborn to teach these measly humans that they were not at the top of the food chain, would never be on top no matter what their clever little minds could come up with because they weren’t the only intelligence on the planet, and there was no way that they could ever be as cunning as someone like him, someone with less limits, less restrictions, for no matter how much they poked and prodded, tested and tortured, they were nothing compared to what he’d been through before, nothing like his lovely little family, full of blood and anger and desire and the most marvelously painful joys a demon could imagine, and demons could imagine a lot, one little needle becoming a darling tool of slow, teasing agony burrowing under the skin enough to raise the adrenaline, yanked out quick with no broken blood vessels, that trembling feeling of weakness stretching along the nerves like nothing these heavy-handed white coats might devise - not prey, not prey - and he knew that one hour with each of them would be more than enough to break the fragile humans, so delicate in mind and body, but it would never be enough for him because they’d fooled him, pulled one over on him and captured him in a pathetic little trick that should never have worked on a centuries old master, but he’d been too confident, too at ease with this quiet little town; well, he’d learned his lesson, and he’d not let them even threaten his power, his prowess, his god-damned earned strength again, no, he’d be the shadow in the dark, that haunting presence just out of sight, out of hearing, stalking around their own shadowy hunt, watching, waiting, terrorizing them with a long, slow take-down, men disappearing one by one, chipping at the carefully constructed security they’ve deluded themselves with, making sure they know that there’s someone, something out there that’s good enough to slip in to their safe little world and end it, and each one would be a delicious, deliberate poke at their defenses, a prod toward finding out what makes them tick, tests and trials all looking for that one bit of weakness he can exploit, break them open from the inside with a crack and lick at their guts with his own malicious little smile at their utterly helpless screams, pitiful whimpers, and he’ll savor those sounds like he refused to let them savor his - not prey, not prey - and there his revenge waited, the heavy scent of satisfaction hovering just under his nose, and he would, he had to, no other choice but to follow through and reclaim what he’d lost, because it would never be over unless he said so, and he was going to say so in the biggest way he could.
But first, a drink to warm him up.
~JJ~
x-posted tamingthemuse
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: none
Warnings: One Really Rambling Sentence
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 615
Summary: Making plans helps.
Devil take ‘em, he’d not been this cold since he’d first turned.
He gripped the edges of his coat, pleased and amazed he’d stumbled into just the right room to hide from the barmy bastards intent on taking him back - not prey, not prey - burning their fear and hatred onto his skin with tools and toys humans hadn’t had for more than a handful of years, all comfortable in their newfound power - not prey, not prey - and he was going to make sure it was a short-lived high because once he was fed, warm and full for the first time in days, he was going to go back, track them in the old ways, the real ways that nature decreed he was most worthy as hunter - not prey, not prey - because he was better’n ‘em, he was, always better, faster, stronger, reborn to teach these measly humans that they were not at the top of the food chain, would never be on top no matter what their clever little minds could come up with because they weren’t the only intelligence on the planet, and there was no way that they could ever be as cunning as someone like him, someone with less limits, less restrictions, for no matter how much they poked and prodded, tested and tortured, they were nothing compared to what he’d been through before, nothing like his lovely little family, full of blood and anger and desire and the most marvelously painful joys a demon could imagine, and demons could imagine a lot, one little needle becoming a darling tool of slow, teasing agony burrowing under the skin enough to raise the adrenaline, yanked out quick with no broken blood vessels, that trembling feeling of weakness stretching along the nerves like nothing these heavy-handed white coats might devise - not prey, not prey - and he knew that one hour with each of them would be more than enough to break the fragile humans, so delicate in mind and body, but it would never be enough for him because they’d fooled him, pulled one over on him and captured him in a pathetic little trick that should never have worked on a centuries old master, but he’d been too confident, too at ease with this quiet little town; well, he’d learned his lesson, and he’d not let them even threaten his power, his prowess, his god-damned earned strength again, no, he’d be the shadow in the dark, that haunting presence just out of sight, out of hearing, stalking around their own shadowy hunt, watching, waiting, terrorizing them with a long, slow take-down, men disappearing one by one, chipping at the carefully constructed security they’ve deluded themselves with, making sure they know that there’s someone, something out there that’s good enough to slip in to their safe little world and end it, and each one would be a delicious, deliberate poke at their defenses, a prod toward finding out what makes them tick, tests and trials all looking for that one bit of weakness he can exploit, break them open from the inside with a crack and lick at their guts with his own malicious little smile at their utterly helpless screams, pitiful whimpers, and he’ll savor those sounds like he refused to let them savor his - not prey, not prey - and there his revenge waited, the heavy scent of satisfaction hovering just under his nose, and he would, he had to, no other choice but to follow through and reclaim what he’d lost, because it would never be over unless he said so, and he was going to say so in the biggest way he could.
But first, a drink to warm him up.
~JJ~
x-posted tamingthemuse