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Scattypaws
bogwitch

Fic: Open Wide

I was raking through an old file of writing scraps and found a few Spike bits that will probably never find their place in a longer fic now.

As I still like them, I might develop a couple into ficlets, despite the lack of encouragement.

This is the first, which I have played with as a writing exercise, which is why it's unbetad. I thought I'd better post it in case we all get sucked into a black hole tomorrow.


Title: Open Wide
Warnings: None. A little bleak maybe.
Character: Spike
Summary: Spike returns





The gaping maw is big enough to swallow the horizon. One large gulp would end everything.

There are times when Spike thinks maybe it should.

The crater, a vast bite scooped out by a town sucked down into the earth, has a trembling lip. Spike stands on the precarious edge, the road into town disappearing abruptly into the hole falling away beneath his toes. Below him the mouth of hell opens to the heavens in a silent scream.

Three words are eating away at him; each one tastes empty. These wounds are still wide open. Exposed. Even now.

He squints out across the crater’s bowl, ignoring the edge crumbling under his dusty boots. The small stones skitter down the rocky slope into the Hellmouth’s choking throat, rolling past scrubby bushes of little attractiveness that still cling to the scree in an existence somewhere between dead or alive. The crater itself is drowning with seawater; a deep, still lagoon slowly forming from a breach in the thin strip of land that cuts the hole off from the sea. There the derelict shells of the few houses that survived the disaster wait in a defiant line for their demolition. They won’t have to wait long.

The lake shimmers serenely under the stars. Its calm mirror rippled by the lick of the gentle breeze. He died here once. So many did. He might die here again.

His heart certainly has.

Behind him, here and there, a few memorials are pinned to the chain link fence erected to keep out the curious. Tied together with faded ribbons, sprays of dead flowers, now brittle to the touch after drying in the hot air, hang in solemn bunches beside yellowed pages that flutter in the breathy wind; personal messages from the living to the dead whispered in written not spoken words. But these letters are quickly bleaching of ink; their heartfelt declarations of love and grief are leeched of colour, soon to fade away forever as the harsh California sun consumes them.

Spike doesn’t need to read them to know there’ll be nothing left for him amongst the waxy stones that are all that remain of the vigil candles, but he doesn’t care that much. The names on them mean nothing without the faces to make them live. His legacy is not in words or mourning bouquets, but in the world he saved.

And, of course, the girl he let live in the sunlight.


.

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I did say it was bleak!

Lovely, but heartbreaking!

Good, and the best is that it means you are thinking of writing! But seriously, I liked the "lake" in the night light. (Cannot say "lagoon" without the creature.)

I'm always thinking of writing, it's the doing it that's the problem!

'Lagoon' is such a great word, it deserves to be used more! With or without the creature.

:(

I thought I'd better post it in case we all get sucked into a black hole tomorrow.

Definitely worth it.

Guns 'n Roses, please don't tell anyone

Your secret is so out.

:D

GNR are the soundtrack to be Sixth Form experience! Whether I liked it or not.

Bleak, yes, but lovely and sad as well.

Thank you. I think the bulk of this was from 'wallowing' period.

Spike doesn’t need to read them to know there’ll be nothing left for him amongst the waxy stones that are all that remain of the vigil candles, but he doesn’t care that much. The names on them mean nothing without the faces to make them live. His legacy is not in words or mourning bouquets, but in the world he saved.

And, of course, the girl he let live in the sunlight.


"sniffle" Very bleak but still quite beautiful.


Sad, but in character, with some very evocative descriptive writing. Poor Spike. To sacrifice you life and then still have to live it. Again.

I was going all out for the mouth metaphors. Poor Spike.

And, of course, the girl he let live in the sunlight.

Wow - just beauiful.

BEAUTIFUL - I can has spel

*whimpers*

Three words are eating away at him; each one tastes empty. whimpers some more
It's painful and beautiful.
I love your descriptive style very much.
His heart certainly has died ? No, no not his heart- just the hopeful part within

and she will be able to do something about it


I always did like the pain of it all.

She had her reasons for not leaving anything, which I've expanded on elsewhere. She never expected him to come back (though she should have known better!).

Very atmostpheric and evocative. You almost feel as though you are looking down into hell (and in a way you are).

Hell seems to be a bit of a theme for me lately,

You've been quiet.

Exquisite! You have set mood and emotion perfectly here. Wonderfully terse way of expressing volumes of feeling. Bravo!

Kathleen

Thanks. It never was supposed to be a story as such, but a excerise in metaphor, bith direct with the mouth references and indirect with some less obvious stuff. I'm pleased it worked!

That's perfect and sad and I love it! Kleenex, please?

...silent scream

So terribly sad.

sigh...

He's given up such a lot.

liked it, was almost peaceful, resigned maybe?

Definitely resigned.

Seems this was more to people's tastes!

Heart-rending.

There should have been something for him among those waxy stones.

You captured the moment well. Exactly the way I think Spike would react.

Yeah, should have been but I couldn't see anyone actually doing it.

You did comment on this one before, you know!

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