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Angel: The Death Of Angel (MF)
by The Fan (legrosmatoux@msn.com)

Angel sat in his office. He was having one of those moments. He sat there,
thinking. He had been alive for a long time. Centuries. He had seen empires
rise and fall. He had seen so many things. He had an amazing life. A life
few people's could rival in intensity. Once, he was a young man in eighteenth
century Ireland. That young man thought the world revolved around drinking
and chasing beautiful women. How his life had changed.

He had seen much of the world. Traveled across several continents. He fought
men and women, demons and monsters. He had been a bad guy in his day. He had
walked the earth in the company of beings and creatures of legend. Powerful
beings. He had fought and he had lost. Sometimes, he won. Once a monster, he
now fights on the side of the light. He is the chosen one. The Champion of
the Powers That Be. He was special. He was one who would never grow old or
die. He was one of the eternal ones. Angel was immortal.

He knew one thing, in all the time he had lived. All things come to pass. He
could remember his days as young man in his hometown of Galway, Ireland. He
so wanted to get out and explore the world. He wanted to know adventure and
glory. His father wanted him to marry some boring girl and lead a peaceful,
quiet and boring life. Angel did not want to remain at home and be married
to some girl. In those days, men and women were very different from the
people he now knew. Men and women led certain lives and did what they were
expected to do. There were no activists. No flamboyant homosexuals, raunchy
bisexuals or spicy lesbians. No proud Black people, since they were all in
chains and no Feminists, since they were probably doing other things. There
was no television or computers. No satellites. Men's lives were so different.
Of course, repressing things did not make them go away. Angel knew of many
men and women who led double lives. Respected men of wealth and power who
had flings with other women or younger men, sometimes simultaneously. Some
upstanding married women and mothers were a bit too close to their female
friends for confort. There were no honest men or women about. Everyone did
their thing on the side and would have vigorously denied it if queried on the
subject. In a time of repression, the young Liam Angelus did everything and
took every risk.

He went out drinking with his male friends. He seduced women. Married women.
Single women. Widows. Women of the nobility. Servant girls. Nuns. Angelus
loved women. They were so odd. Beautiful and seemingly innocent yet more
dangerous than tigers. They were transparent if you paid attention to them
and ignored everything else yet infinitely better at deception than the most
cunning male. They were what they were. He loved them, he tamed them and he
broke their hearts. He was fascinated by them but knew better than to allow
any single one of them to take possession of him. That would be foolheardy
and suicidal. Angelus used to say that a woman in love was insane. His friend
Sandy Burns thought women were insane, period. Angelus liked Sandy. Sandy
liked Angelus. Sandy was a lad who had escapades with both men and women. An
irresistible and darkly compelling, vicious and cunning bastard. Sandy was a
member of the nobility, like Angelus was. Fine young men had unbridled fun
those days. Any which way they chose. Angelus loved it. He was honest to
Sandy about himself and Sandy was too. They were best friends. They ruled the
nightlife in Galway.

Angelus's days came to an end and a surprising new beginning the night he met
Darla.

Darla. A strikingly beautiful blonde woman. She was a vampire and the
offspring of the Master. She made him into one of the Undead, creating the
finest example of perverse vampire the world had ever seen. There was NOTHING
Angelus wouldn't do. He enjoyed the life of the vampire like there was no
tomorrow. He loved killing. He loved seducing women. He took his sweet time
with them. He took his time to get to know a woman, get her to tell him her
secrets and reveal herself to him. He befriended them and seduced them. It
was all a game. He killed them. After getting to know them, the kill was
sweeter. He killed men as well. He remembered two of his proudest kills. One
of was Lydia Smith back in 1845.

Lydia was a slim girl with red hair and brown eyes. She was eighteen, the
daughter of a wealthy farmer in England. She was to be married to some old
man. She dreaded being married. She was a bored and terrified girl. Into her
life he came. He was the gentleman. The guy who talked to her and got to know
her. He really listened to her as she spoke of her dreams. He befriended her
parents. He became friends with her brother Stephen. He took her riding on
his horse and took her to the ball and the opera. He took her to London and
made sure she had fun. He showed her a life no girl dared dream of in those
days. A life of excitement. He introduced her to his clan, then made up of
Spike, Drusilla and Darla. He made his friends part of his scheme and they
agreed to act human around the unsuspecting girl. Angelus did this for a
whole year. Lydia as it turns out was a virgin. She was to be married to
Thomas Wayne, a fifty-year old wealthy nobleman who had been married before
and was the father of three grown children. Lydia grew more and more
desperate as the date of her wedding approached. She was terrified. Angelus
comforted her. He delighted in playing the role of her champion. Of being the
only one she could count on. Inside, he knew better than that. Women were
quite good at finding men and using them to get what they wanted. What a man
wanted was usually something quick. Very rarely did men make clear long-term
plans unless they were thinking with their hearts or dicks, never their
heads.

He remembered the night when Lydia came to him. She was desperate. She had
tried to commit suicide. Then she realized she didn't have to die. She wanted
to be with the one man she loved. Angelus pretended to be surprised. "Who do
you love, my dear?" he asked sadly.

"It's you, Angelus." she said. And with that she kissed him.

He played the game a little more, telling her that it wasn't right and that
she shouldn't do this, not so close to her wedding. He "sobbingly confessed"
his love for her, a love he claimed could never be. He remembered how she
naively talked about running away with him. She would steal her own dowry and
run. Angelus just hugged her and kissed her back. He let himself be guided by
her into one of her rooms. She sat him down while she undressed. Then, she
came to him. He kissed her, and caressed her body. He took his sweet time to
pleasure her. He licked her breasts and caressed her tits. He ran his hands
over her bottom and caressed her navel. Finally, he parted her legs and gave
her the most pleasurable of all sensations. His agile tongue was a lady
pleaser.

He ate her pussy, biting her clit gently and causing her to writhe and
shudder in pleasure on the bed. He ran his hands over her tits as he
tongue-fucked her pussy. He toyed with her ass, penetrating it with his
fingers. He watched as her body shuddered, rocked by the first orgasm of
her life. He was really aroused at this point and wanted to fuck her but
the game was the game. He looked at her on the bed, as her orgasm passed.
She looked around, slightly disoriented. He looked at her, willing his
features to become filled with concern and love. "Are you alright, my
love?" he asked.

She slowly nodded. He got up. She panicked. "Don't leave me." she said.
The need was dripping in her voice.

Angelus smiled. He wasn't going anywhere. She practically begged him to come
with her. He came and they began the kisses again. She touched his cock. She
was really excited to finally hold one in her hands. Angelus played the part
of the reluctant lover, telling her he wasn't sure about it and if she didn't
want to she didnt have to. He said all that with a sincerity monks would
envy. She wanted to be with him. He kissed her and caressed her, once again
arousing her. Then, he entered her. She bit her lip when he was in her. He
went in and out. He looked at her, murmuring words of love the whole time and
asking her how she wanted and stuff like that. He did not take his pleasure
with her. He focused on her pleasure. He fucked her at a steady rhythm. He
looked into her eyes the whole time.

Then, he pulled out and resumed caressing her and started to eat her pussy
again. Then, he licked her ass. He sucked her tits and ate her pussy and
licked her ass until both her holes were raw. He left her body sated, her
appetites satisfied. Then, he wrapped his arms around her, kissed her on the
forehead and wished her good night. The next day, he left her with a kiss and
let her mind deal with last night's events. He didnt see her for two days.

When he returned, she was happy to see him and told him how much she liked
their lovemaking. She even confessed to touching herself while thinking of
him. He acted shocked. Then, he went to her room for another session. He
treated her to a day of shopping and unlike the other husbands and fiances
there, paid attention to her while she shopped. He took her arm and not once
did he look at another woman. He made sure she was treated like a lady. He
took her eating to the finest eateries and got the best table. They spent a
lot of time together. He knew she loved horseback riding and got her a poney.
He dressed her up in a man's habit, something she always wanted to do and
they went riding together.

Meanwhile, Spike, Darla and Drusilla were getting tired of his little games.
They wanted to leave London. He let them. They left England altogether but
agreed to meet at Budapest. Angelus doted on Lydia. He bought her books on
poetry. He read them to her. Personally, he hated poetry but she didn't and
since she was the prize in the game, her needs were prioritized. She wanted
to know his family. He went as far as hiring a young man to play his younger
brother and an older married couple to play to the part of his parents. He
was Liam Angelus, gentlemanly Irish poet. Lydia was more and more in love
with him. But her wedding day was close by. Her parents were beginning to
think something was happening between her and Angelus. They hid their
romance.

But Angelus was beginning to tire of this. The Game had to come to an end.
He needed to close the deal, and that meant killing her. He was a guest at
her wedding. She refused to get married. He told her to go ahead. He played
the part of the angry lover. She wanted to run away. He could not have her
following him. Sooner or later she was going to find out he was a vampire
and that was not acceptable. So, one night after they made love, he broke
her neck.

Angelus was surprised that after such a long Game, the Kill did not bring
him much satisfaction. He was not happy at all. He found that he missed Lydia
Smith. He missed her laugh, her charm and wit. He was a vampire. He had no
soul in these days. How could he feel anything for a human girl? Humans were
food for vampires. Yet, he felt something. Something so powerful he craved
it. He sought it in many men and women he killed. But he could not find it.
It was that search for that feeling which brought him to that Gypsy girl in
the late 1860s in Hungary. He found it. It scared him and he killed her. For
that, the Kalderash Gypsy Clan restored his soul. He became the Vampire With
A Soul. Only then did he realize what he sought. He couldnt understand it as
vampire but once his soul came back, he did.

He had a yearning for love. It was his reason to live for a long time. He
wouldn't find it until he met Buffy Summers, the Vampire Slayer in Sunnydale
in 1999. He met this amazing girl and they were in love. But it couldn't be
and he lost her. He thought she was his soulmate. But was she?

He came to Los Angeles. He so wanted to get away from Buffy Summers and the
pain their relationship caused him. In Los Angeles, he found a new home and
a new family. He found Cordelia Chase, a girl he knew back in Sunnydale. He
also found Alan Francis Doyle, a half demon with Psychic talents. Doyle died
saving the Human Race from evil demons. Angel later met Gunn, a black man who
hunted demons and Wesley, a guy from Sunnydale. Later came Winifred, a sexy
and beautiful genius physicist turned techno-pagan and Lorne the Host, a
friendly demon psychic. They were his friends, allies and family. They helped
him in his fight against the forces of darkness and the evil law firm known
as Wolfram & Hart. He hit a few bumps in his life. A night of sex with the
resurrected Darla resulted in Connor, a boy born with all the powers of a
vampire but none of the weaknesses. Angel also watched his adopted city fall
as the Beast conquered it and killed many humans by unleashing the legions of
darkness upon the city.

One of the biggest losses of his existence came when Buffy died. She was
later resurrected in Sunnydale.

He lost his son Connor. Actually, he chose a better life for Connor by
turning him into an ordinary youth with a normal family. Angel and his
friends took over Wolfram & Hart's Los Angeles branch. He was now the
ruler of the most powerful law firm on the planet. He was also immortal.
A very powerful and respected individual. A champion in the fight against
darkness. The loss of Cordelia Chase, the woman who had been the most
important friend in his existence was great. Too great to bear. He buried
himself in work to get over her lost. He loved Cordy. She was all at once
his best friend, ally and motivational speaker. Now, she was gone.

He was sick and tired of this fighting and redemption bullshit. He didn't
want to live forever.

He suddenly got sick of it all. This world. The humans could never appreciate
all that he did. He had saved the world so many times. Yet most humans did
not know of the truth about the world. They knew nothing. They fought over
resources and useless things. So many ideals and useless topics. Capitalism.
Marxism. Feminism. Racism. Communism. Fascism. Heterosexism. It's like the
men and women of the world needed trouble. They couldn't get along. And every
single one of them thought he or she was right. He sighed in disgust.

All of a sudden, he knows what to do. No more games. No more struggles. No
more pain and suffering.

He walks out of his office. He walks down the halls of Wolfram & Hart. People
look at him. Employees. Men. Women. Lawyers. Executives. Clients. Toadies.
Flamejobs. Closet cases. He walks all the way down, to the covered parking
lot. He walks into the lot and sees the cars. He could take one of those cars
and run. It doesn't have to end like this.

Angel walks into the bright Los Angeles afternoon. He feels the heat scorch
his skin. He feels the burns. He is smoldering. The pain is excruciating.
He is on fire. He feels his flesh cooking. He thinks of all the people he
killed. He sees the face of every man, woman and child he has ever seen. He
sees the faces of Giles, Buffy, and of course Buffy. He sees Gunn, Wesley
and.. and... he sees the strikingly beautiful face of Cordelia Chase, the
woman who he realizes at the hour of his death was meant to be the love of
his life all along. That is his sole true regret in over two centuries of
living. He sees nothing at all. He hears nothing. He feels nothing but sweet,
blissful oblivion all around him. He knows this is the end....and welcomes
it.

Angel's Game is Over.

The End

    

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