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Keep away. Keep hidden. That's something. Stay away, stay under. Hope they leave before she comes. Because the funny thing is, the words sound alright in his brain. They make sense, you see. They work. But not when the mouth is open. The words are wrong. And they are mangled. Maybe if he was William, he could find some pretty little words. But that was a long time ago. And he'd rather not go back there.
He's lucky he doesn't need to breathe. If he did, he would taste the darkness. The wrongness of it all. From beneath you, it devours. Words are in his head that he never thought up. They're not meant for this. Not meant to be in his skull. Like he's not meant to be down here. She wants him out. But the talking just won't stop. Voices in your head are never a good sign, especially not when their is a body to go with.
The taste of blood is fresh in his mouth, which is strange. But waking up is oh so hard, and lost time is oh so common. His skin crawls, but he doesn't know why. Voices are loud. More missed time. Iron blood in his mouth. Worry. Guilt. Souls are tricky. So is she. The outfit won't work. Pretending won't work. He is broken part of a machine that won't fucking work anymore. He has no use.
The Hellmouth. It must be the cause. He would leave, but there is no place to go. So he stays. And threats don't work on somebody who doesn't want to be around anymore. He misses his fags, he misses his crypt. And most of all not having to feel whatever it is he's feeling. He's not William and Spike is not supposed to feel that way.
But the feelings stay and the soul stays. He wishes he had never come to SunnyDale. It's messed him up. It messes others up 'from beneath you it devours' he hopes it gets on with it. Time is so slow or so fast. There is movement. He feels all the students of the highschool above him. Hears their blood pummping through their vains. He's killed kids like them. Partly he wishes he still could.
But never fully. That's the soul in the way. He wishes it would leave. Too many emotions and not enough names for them all. Too much in his head. It hurts. Maybe he likes it. Maybe it's what he deserves. He killed people after all. And the taste in his mouth doesn't seem to be going away.
They talk to him sometimes. Real people. The Scoobies. They want information from him. He has none. Why would he go out? It's like they expect him to be the same. But he isn't the same man. He feels quieter. But it is far too loud. And words don't work the same way. Now it's getting soppy. The sort of thing you'd expect from Angel. But never Spike. It's disgusting. He feels sick. It's unnatural for a vampire. But the again, he's an unnatural vampire. So it all adds up in the end.