Spike opened his mouth to say something to Dawn, but stopped the second he saw some strange man wander into the room. He was obviously a part of the hell dimension, otherwise he wouldn't have looked so content with what he was seeing. Besides that, the sight of him gave Spike the chills. And that? It meant that whoever this person was, he had to be fairly powerful. Spike didn't just get the chills for anyone. Brow furrowed, Spike attempted to clamber onto his feet. The chains that were buried through his skin dug in tighter and he groaned in agony. That, however, didn't stop him from making it back onto his feet. Blood spilled from his open wounds with every movement that he made, and just behind Dawn another image flickered to life. This one was a mother. Spike closed his eyes as she advanced toward him. She passed straight through Dawn, marched toward Spike, and grabbed him roughly by the face. He had to open his eyes.
"You did this," she snarled.
"I'm sorry."
"You did it," she hissed again. There was a knife buried into the side of her head. Spike remembered driving it through her skull over twenty years ago. She yanked it out, tilted it toward his chest, and drove it in roughly. Spike's jaw tightened, but he kept quiet. And just like that, she vanished. Along with the knife.
The wound, however, remained.
Gasping, Spike finally willed himself to look back at the man who had entered the room. "Who...who in the bloody hell are you?"