Between Darkness and Light, Part 1

By Isis Osiris

It's dark here. I don't know where here is, exactly, but it's dark. I feel like I'm floating through a cold, black mist. It's not uncomfortable, but I don't know where I am or why I'm here or why I don't know the answers to these questions, and that's disturbing. To my left, there's some sort of light, but I can't get to it. There's a shadow wall preventing me from reaching it. Or that's the best I can describe it. It's a darkness, and I cannot pass through it. On the other side, there is only emptiness. But I can't reach it, either, for I am blocked in by what seems to be a wall of light. I am trapped here, in the middle of something, but I don't know what it is. The light and darkness are getting more extreme, as if they were coming nearer, and the walls are moving in, too. I don't like this place, and I'm feeling slightly claustrophobic. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can get through a wall, but which should I try? Light looks safer, so I run as fast as I can into the wall of shadows. To my surprise, I pass through it. I am almost to the comforting safety of the light, when the blackness behind me begins to pull me back. Determined not to give up, I continue forward. I reach the light and bask in its warmth, certain that I made the right decision. Then everything goes dark as I fall into nothingness.

My eyes flash open as I brace myself for the end of the fall. But it never comes. I take in the red velvet canopy above my head and relax back onto the bed, reassured that it was only a dream. My eyes begin to close before they snap open once more. I don't have a canopy bed. Or…I look around me… black silk sheets. This isn't my room, but I don't know where "this" is, or how I got there. Panic begins to build up inside me, and I sit up, looking for something to tell me where I am and a way out of wherever that may be. The room is a girl's bedroom, that much is certain. Besides the canopy bed, a shelf of dolls lines one wall and a trunk sat at the foot of the bed. A vanity sat against another wall, and a closet occupied the fourth. Then I saw it. A door in the corner between the vanity wall and the closet wall, across the room from where I sat. I was about to climb out of bed and try the door when it opened.

"Hello, pet. Did you have a nice nap?" Spike stood in the doorway, holding a goblet of crimson liquid. Frightened of the British vampire, I backed away, to the far edge of the bed. "What's the matter, aren't you hungry?"

I am. And my teeth hurt. Ache is more the word. Like I have growing pains in my mouth. And I'm longing to taste the contents of that glass. I know it is blood, but that only makes me want it more. It doesn't make sense. Why would I want to drink blood? And what is Spike doing here?

Then the memories come back. Spike in my room. Our deal. Me in the cemetery. Spike's promise. Pain and dizziness. Blackness. I'm not Willow the 'Net Girl anymore. Now I am Willow the Vampire. But if I'm a vampire, why is all of this confusing? Why am I not eager to hunt and kill? I know I need blood to survive, and Spike will be sure to notice if I refuse to drink, so I decide to go through the motions, so to speak, of being a vampire until I could figure this out.

"Come on, pet. You have to eat something, or you'll die. I know it's not as fresh as if you'd killed him yourself, but you have to gain your strength first." Again, he offers me the glass. This time, I accept it eagerly and drain its contents. "There, now. That wasn't so bad, was it? Soon you'll be strong enough to hunt and there'll be no stopping us. You'll get your first slayer, and the rest of your ex-friends, and then we'll return to Europe."

He expects me to kill Buffy? Of course he does. The first thing vampires do is kill their family and friends. Spike did, as did Angel. Drusilla probably would have if Angel hadn't done it for her already. That's why he agreed so quickly to not killing them. He knew I would do it gladly. But how can I? And why don't I want to? Giles would know. I have to talk to Giles and make him listen to me. Of course part of that will include convincing him not to kill me, but I can handle that somehow. I crawl across the bed towards the door, but Spike stops me.

"Where are you going? You're not strong enough to hunt yet, and you know it."

"Giles…" I continue to try to leave.

"Not yet, my sweet. But there will be time for the Watcher and all of your little playmates. But first you must rest. Then you can play." He gently pushes me back among the pillows and covers me with the sheets. "Rest," he commands once again before leaving the room.