InsaneJournal

A dream. Another bloody dream. This one different from his usual ones, there's no Buffy in this one and that's a refreshing change the vampire. Still he takes no comfort in the fact he's dreaming, most of his dreams are nightmare. Resting before the vamkpires eyes were fractured shapes of black and white that rest against each other in a manner that suggest some kind of pattern. It is almost as if he's too close to something, that if he could see it from a distance, it would be clear to him. Slowly everything begins shifting and changing. Shape moving and making new relationship to their neighbors. New patterns are being made, new solutions found, but they are just beyond his comprehension still The effect is both aesthetically pleasing and frustrating for him.

Slowly, but surely as if a jig-saw puzzle coming together, the image becomes clear to him and it dawns on him that he is in a dank dark corridor. His body moving down it at its own accord He can barely see ahead of him, everything seems just hazily sketched in; enough to provide context, not enough to distract. The only reason he's even sure he's moving is because he can hear the constant staccato his boots beat against the tiled floor beneath him. Spike is just spectator here, and he's painfully aware of that. He has little choice but to helplessly observe whatever his subconscious needs to show him. Slowly but surely things begin to become clearer, further down the corridor he can see a faint light. He's steadily approaching it now, faster, faster, there's a sudden spring in his step, one that he wishes he could remove. His body is eager to reach the light up ahead. He finds himself growing increasingly distressed, nervous even. Instinctively he knows whatever awaits down yonder is dangerous.

At the end of the dark corridor, he reaches his destination: A door. Through its thin cracks, sunlight streams in. His mind panics, he tries to pull himself away from the door, but his body moves at its own volition, grasping the doorknob and twisting it. He opens the door letting the sun light graze his fair flesh. He can feel his skin burn, blister and sizzle as the rapid decaying process starts, yet his body refused to seek shelter or shrink away into the shadows. No, he walked out further into the daylight across a sand strewn expanse, his arms spreading in a eerie tableau, opening wide in cruciform, not standing defiant against the sun, but embracing its deadly warmth. He can feel his body disintegrating, but it doesn't hurt. No, not at all, the end comes blessedly quick, not a slow-burn of blazing agony, but a seamless transition from life to ash.

Then for a few moments there's just all encompassing peaceful darkness...

"Billy Idol, Billy --Wake up, you're drooling all over my bar."

So glad to see you have overcome them
Completely silent now. With heaven's help
you cast your demons out. And not to pull
your halo down around your neck and tug
you off your cloud.

But I'm more than just a little curious how
you're planning to go about making your
amends to the dead.

;The Noose - A Perfect Circle