A Demon's Insanity
By Michelle
rated PG-13
Angelus's POV while he is ''imprisoned'' behind Angel's soul.

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All that’s missing are the iron bars.

No, wait, that’s not true. I could break out of a prison that had bars. I don’t even have the hope of escaping from here.

Egh. I’m mourning the loss of hope. I’m *mourning*. Such . . . purity is disgusting. If I had control of our skin it would be crawling.

But I don’t, and that’s what is truly disgusting. *He* has control. He is dragging my name and our face through the mud. Our face, our body, I can understand. As much as I hate to admit it, he does have some claim to it, although mine is much greater. But my name – that is mine and mine alone. He has no right to use it in any form.

At least he was able to leave when I took over. He didn’t have to watch as I performed all those wonderfully sinful and deliciously murderous acts. Well, I would have liked that, but fair is fair. I shouldn’t have to watch him be so . . . so righteous and sully my name with honor.

Death would be better than this. Hell would be better than this. *Mortality* would be better than this.

But no, I’m stuck here, trapped for the rest of our miserable life. Sometimes I wish he’d get so depressed that he’d walk into the sun, put us out of our misery. Endless exposure to all that is him just is not worth any amount of repulsive hope I might harbor. But the undying survival instinct ingrained within me keeps me from wishing that too often.

And the Slayer. The *Slayer*. How can he even be within a mile of her without wanting to rip her throat out and gorge on her blood? He is a disgrace to everything we are. I’d rip out his intestines if they weren’t also mine.

Come on, Liam, you know you want to taste her blood. See if it’s as powerful and rich as you imagine it could be. While her back is turned, just put our arms around her and sink our fangs into her neck. It would be close to pure ecstasy, Liam, and you know it. Don’t deny yourself such pleasure. Come on, that’s it, just another step and –

No, keep listening to me! We’re so close! Don’t turn away.

Damnit.

Every time I think I’m close to breaking him, something happens. It’s usually that damn Slayer reminding him how she only wants a moral and sensitive warrior at her side. It’s all the Slayer’s fault.

If I ever get free of this souled prison, she will pay for this in every way imaginable. Anything remotely relating to a soul will suffer.

But until then, I’m stuck watching him be the Slayer’s willing lapdog. I’m forced to watch decades of my hard work being destroyed. I’m reduced to clinging to hope and feeding off of rage.

I truly hate him.