You unmitigated wanker; every time with the same transparent trap, you total arse. What were you thinking? Not a lot. What a mess. Try to breathe. You will get through this. You have trained for this. Go to the happy place or similar Californian drivel. You have studied this. You can predict the escalation. He is, at least, well documented. Separate your mind. Interaction to be kept at a minimum. Give him enough to keep it going. For Christ's sake don't make him angry.
(Nothing happens to any thing which that thing is not made by nature to bear.)
Submit in body, defy in mind.
He is a sadist first and foremost (the only way to a woman's heart is along the path of torment. I know none other as sure--;too right mate, she's just loving you right now).
Give him something to break and something to have broken. Don't wait for him. Don't let him set the pace. The quiet times can be used for recuperation not anticipation. Pain management strategies, quick, think, think...;oh, let's see, morphine would be fine. No cunts on me drugstable. The best you can do is biofeedback. No, no, he'll know, he can sense it, they can sense it, vampires. Mustn't let him know .You have trained for this. Yeah, keep saying that one. This is your test. Can you pass it?
(Be like the cliff against which the waves continually break, but which stands firm and tames the fury of the water around it.)
How will he go? Reid technique? No, don't be stupid, he wants information. When did he last torture anyone? Don't think that. Well, when? Is it the big five, classic but not classical. Sadist remember, not soldier, not soldier. Hooding and blooding we've done. No chance for stoika, not hands on enough for him. Shame, I was always good at that one at school. Not the five then. Escalation is a definite, remember your training remember your training get a sodding grip. What I'd give for a cup of tea, yeah, mothers ruin special more like. Biderman, is it Biederman? Chart of coercion. Imitody? Imitady, imittadie? I might a die, shut it! I.M.I.T.I.D.D.E. Oh, yes! I remember
Isolation.
Monopolisation of perception.
Induced debilitation.
Threats.
Indulgences occasional and trivial.
Demonstration of omnipotence--confrontation and demonstration.
Degradation.
Enforcing trivial demands.
Oh, fuck a great big duck. Shut up shut up SHUT UP. Separate your mind. It hurts. Shut up.
(Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there.)
Look around you. Keep from going under. It hurts but you can bear it. Small sharp stabbing and cutting can be controlled. The rest is going to be hell. Hell now or hell later? I'll have some hell please. I want my hell to be bespoke. None of this mass-produced tat for me, no sir. What's that line? 'Don't think of it as dying, think of it as leaving early to avoid the rush.' Think about something else. Angelus, Angelus, Angelus is here! Not Angelus, think about something else. Buffy, good, hold on to that thought. Remember the time you were away at a staff meeting, faculty meeting, you mean faculty, it's faculty here. She left you an update and she wrote it angellus and you laughed out loud. Willow looked at you with that crinkled forehead and you tried to explain that angellus is a pet diminutive of angulus and she just kept looking at you. You tried to explain that angulus means corner and that Buffy had written, 'the little corner is lurking', but she sighed her SoCal sigh and filed it away as loony old foreigner moment number 408. That's just Angelus again and it wasn't even funny the first time you sad old git.
(A man's true delight is to do the things he was made for.)
Not Angelus. Angelus, a ringing of bells is it? I'm sure it's not strictly Latin for angel. Names always end in -us though don't they? The angel is it not? Isn't it just angel, angeli? Non Angli sed Angeli. Who said that? Pope Gregory, Greg the great. Pope, hmm...the angelus bell, rings a bell, feeble, just feeble. Angelus! A Roman Catholic devotion, it's the one commemorating the annunciation. Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae--the angel of the lord brought tidings to Mary, ecclesiastical Latin that deffo, seventeenth century maybe, maybe later, no, medieval, oh shit I can't keep it all in my mind, when was he turned? Was he a good Catholic boy? Must have been, otherwise he'd have gone for Angelos. Angelos, Greek, messenger, is that right? Well, that and, is he from the West of Ireland? Maybe, can't seem to think too clearly now. What was all that tripe about pain and colours? What have I got to imagine? Blue is it? It's getting harder to keep hold.
(If you are distressed by anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself but to your own estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment)
OH! FUCK! OW!
Hold it together, hold it together, hold it together, with Rotosound Strings! And fate is setting up the chessboard while death rolls out the dice. Anyone for tennis, wouldn't that be nice?
Absolutely fabulous darling, brilliant, magic, tops, this is all just fan-dabby-dozy, tip-top-tastic and no mistake. Blood and sand!
OH! PLEASE! NO!
Try not to respond. This is a test like any other. You are a watcher, sworn duty remember. You knew what you were getting into. Lock up the answer in a box and forget about it. If you don't know it you can't tell it. Think about something else Watcher! Watcher, has Willow made the connection yet? Willow, good, Willow, sweet girl, mind like nothing you've seen for a long while. Deserves to grow up, so earnest and, what do they say? Peppy? Is that right. Remember when she was trying so hard to sound like you, what did she say? Anhelus? All those unfamiliar sounds tripping over themselves in her mouth more used to lazy-round. You laughed then too, didn't you. Tried to explain that anhelus means breath, no, not breathing, puffing, panting. Not like Angelus at all. More feeble jokes from an old man. Need to stop with this. What use is this obsession with names? Not names, him. He's winning you know.
(By a tranquil mind I mean nothing else than a mind well ordered.)
You can get through this. Visualisation is clearly a bust. Hah, clearly a bust. Oh shut up you dick. Names, names are the key. Key to what exactly? To getting through this. There is no getting through this you know. This isn't a test, it's the fucking finals.
Names, names, more names. Is that Spike? Spike, oh I knew I recognised that name! A review, at college, I wonder if...no, scallie him, through and through. Oxford, good lord how I wish I were back there now, 192 libraries in Oxford University and I never got abducted from a single one. Christ! I'm getting nostalgic about the PPH? What tortuous path led me to that insanity? Spike. Spike: clavus--a nail and also: clavus trabalis--a spike as a sign of firmness, an attribute of necessitas--necessitas: sometimes need?-- or want, transferred in the metaphorical to close connection or relationship or family. Family? Spike? Cicero uses it in the sense: intimate friend... inevitably connected, destined, soulmates? No souls here matey boy.
(You are a little soul carrying about a corpse, as Epictetus used to say.)
Necessity or, inevitability--unavoidable--avoid from Old French evuider: clear out, get rid of--from vuide--void: Middle English dialect variation, in the sense unoccupied or vacated from Latin, vacare vacant vacuus. Keep a hold, stop rambling. Focus.
(Be not careless in deeds, nor confused in words, nor rambling in thought.)
Names, all things separated by names. Watchers, agents, messengers, guardians, angels, fathers, masters, grigori, annunaki, anakim, nephilum, neteru, directions, directors, malachim, watchers. Vis, pontianak, langsoir, guaxna, vrykolakas, katanes, yasha, lamia, azeman, mahr, yara-ma-yha-who, kumiho, lillu, vampire, vampire, vampire, vampire. Shut up shut up shut up!
Names, to name something is to have power over it, or maybe to define it? Western myth base, Adam, Genesis--Mesopotamian Semitic myth. Adam does not name himself, but names all the animals beneath him. Hmm, taken names and given names. To name something is to exercise dominion--symbolising western belief of soulless animals, objects and dominable things. Dominable? Is that even a word? I'm sure it's a word, I've seen it seen it seen it somewhere. Somewhere, some paper, is it algebra? Oh, it's not the right word, it goes with something else, holo-something, holomorphic, what the buggerin' hell is that when it's at home? It's not the right word. What's the right word? Why can't I concentrate? He's shouting, why is he shouting? Hasn't he read the script? This isn't the right order. I want my trivial indulgence. It can't break me if I know it is coming, can it?
My hands, my hands, my hands, I can't feel... it's all exploded into white. I can't...
In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Fuck it fuck it fuck it, it'll be okay.
Just fucking sort it out now. Ripper. Rupert. Giles. Watcher. Man. I am. Fuck you and your mam. I will win. I do.
Dominate, master. Master, the master. That's where it started. Master: old English moeg(i)ster from Latin magister: teacher, judge, father, lord-- also, trainer, advisor instigator-- closely related to magis: more to a greater extent, rather, instead of. Master of the Sentences. Master of the Field. The seven wise masters. Seven words from the cross...See? You can beat this. You can see the deep. The deep. I can't stand it any more. I can't stand it any more (more). Names, where was I? How long have I been here? It hurts and the colour business isn't working. I'm tired. And Jesus H Christ this is really hurting now. No jokes. I think I'm passing out. Don't be foolish, he won't let you pass out.
Oh shit.
(What has happened to you worse than you had reason to expect?)
No more words.
How long now?
How long now?
How long now?
Shit shit I'm going to die. I'm really going to die. Me, me, no-oh-shit-not-me. I'm different I'm important. I can't stop, just finish. Not dying, not that. What will it feel like? Will I know when it happens? I'm so scared. I'm going to die. Not like this, not now, not like this. I'm fucking busy! I got this great need, the need to stay alive. Shit, I'm going to die. It's really happening. Is this what she thought? Who's she? The cat's mother? Jenny, Jenny. I can't say her name. I can't think about her now. I'm so weak. I want to be strong. I want to be brave but it's not brave if you're not scared but I'm really shitting it. I can't die, not now. I'm so scared. Try not think about it try not to think oh shit I'm going to die...
(Remember this-that there is a proper dignity and proportion to be observed in the performance of every act of life.)
How long was I asleep? I can't believe I slept. How can I sleep now? It hurts so fucking much. Christ it kills, hah! It kills, it fucking kills, it's killing me and I'm so angry and it's not fair. I've got things to do and this can't be it. Someone will come for me, someone will save me. That's what happens isn't it? That's what happens if you're good. I've been so good for so long and I fucking deserve it. No I don't, I'm weak. Can't even die with dignity. I've wet myself. I can feel it in my trousers. Stupid old man trousers, wrap myself up in daddy's clothes but I can't be a grown up. I'm not a grown up really I'm just me and I can't be strong anymore. I can't I'm so tired and it hurts and that bastard is taunting me. What does he want from me? I just want it to stop but if it stops then I'm dead and I don't want to die. Oh shit he's going to come in again. Did I make a noise? Stupid twat crying stop crying, he'll hear you, he's coming, oh shit. Just be quiet.
"Fuck you".
What are you doing? He's going to be angry. He's always fucking angry, he's a bastard bollocking demon. He's a demon. What the fuck am I doing here with a demon? Christ what's going on? How did I end up here? I want to go home. I'm sorry, I take it back, and I take it all back. I'm not up to this. Get someone else. I want to go home and read my books. No books, no more books, stupid fucking books got you here you cunt. Never know when to stop never know when to just leave it alone. Get a grip. He's touching, stop touching me you dirty thing, mine mine mine fuck off. He's asking you something tell him tell him and he'll stop all this just tell him. No no no got to do something right for once just once be the big man.
(Death stands at your elbow. Be good for something, while you live and it is in your power.)
Who are you protecting, (only the world) her? She's a superhero you arsehole, you twat, you deluded self-important nobhead. What the fuck do you think you're doing?
"...in a tutu."
And now I'm laughing and I can't stop it. What the fuck do you think you're doing you... oh thank Christ he's stopped, he's gone. He's not gone he's there, don't let him do this, this is MoP. He's going to come back you know, he's coming back. What has he done to me? I can't I can't...; oh shit I can't close my eyes. I can't close my mouth. I can't close it out. Bastard, bastard this is all his fault. This is all my fault. This is all her fault. No, can't think that mustn't ever think that. Bad, bad. He's coming back, no it isn't him, it's her. Oh God. Oh she's okay, she's okay, she's okay. I'm okay, it's over it's over. I did it.
Oh God. It's her. I've done it. I failed.
(It is the act of a madman to pursue impossibilities.)
