| Chapters: 5 - 6 |
| On Her Shoulders A helpless scream pierced through the thick damp air of the dark graveyard, awakening the dead from their peaceful slumber, chocking out the whimpers of the lost spirits that walked unsuspectingly among the mortals, and making the nonexistent wolves run deeper into the darkness of the woods. The cries of the young girl was silently heard by the world. The Blue Planet mutely cried out in pity for her, unknowingly grieving for such an innocent soul to be suddenly thrust into a world of darkness and death. The fresh young woman, alive and vibrant in every way, had been wrongly called upon to protect the planet that will never know or repay her for who she was destined to be. Angel watched the tiny blond fight for her life as her Watcher looked on, shouting out orders. The vampire had the urge to run to her and help her, but for now, this wasn�t his fight to fight. It was hers and hers alone. If she survived this battle, she would go further into training. This was only just the beginning. She needed to learn and all he could do was watch and hope that she wouldn�t die on her first night. His fists were clasped at his sides, jaws tightly clenched as he watched her beneath the new fledgling. She would grow stronger in time, but it didn�t help calm down his utter concern for her and her life. A life that he wanted her to live for as long as possible. It was hard for him to see her at such a vulnerable position and not be able to do anything about it. He promised he would protect her, to the Higher Beings, Whistler, to himself . . . He wouldn�t be able to take it if something happened to her. Angel felt her fear. She was petrified out of her mind and all he wanted to do was comfort her and whisper sweet nothings to her ear as she cried and shivered in his embrace. He felt her pain. She was hurting and he wanted to take it away, to destroy all things that gave her such agony. Another shriek filtered through the cemetery, bringing Angel back from his trance. Buffy struggled awkwardly beneath the vampire that sat on her, fangs bared and wildly hissing for her to stop moving. "Use the stake, Buffy! Use the stake!" Instructed the old man who had pulled her away from the school earlier that day to talk to her privately at a caf�. "In every generation there is a Chosen One. She alone will fight the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer," Rupert Giles began, sounding eerily like a book; a dictionary of the paranormal to be exact. As a response, his charge, Buffy Merteuil, lifted a delicate brow in utter confusion. He sighed and began to elaborate. He told her about vampires, demons, ghosts, and other supernatural beings. Of course, being a 17 year old girl who knew full well of deceit, lies, and deceptions, couldn�t believe it and had laughed uncontrollably for a good five minutes. She wasn�t laughing now. Buffy never would�ve knew . . . never would�ve expected it . . . never would�ve believed that SHE was the one girl destined to fight these creatures. The Chosen One. Why her? Out of every girl on earth, it had to be her. The blond teenager, still in her school girl uniform of a navy blue plaid skirt, a white corn starch buttoned up shirt, a Manchester blazer, and a pair of black buckled shoes struggled vulnerably underneath the demon with the blazing yellow eyes and disfigured features. With one final effort, she managed to get her arms free from the vampire�s grasp and finally jab the wooden stake she held through his heart. Dust flew around her and she laid there, gasping in terror, her blue eyes wide with shock. Her body trembled at the horrific experience she just had. Her Watcher ran towards her and worriedly looked down at her shaking form. "Are you alright?" Giles asked. She nodded as he helped her up. Once on her feet, she wrapped her arms protectively around her, trying to keep her body from shaking into a heap of puddle. She had come so close to death that night, and she shivered at the thought. She was definitely afraid, afraid of what was to come, afraid if she was able to live, afraid of what would happen if she failed. She mentally shook her head. She didn�t want this. She didn�t want this responsibility. She just wanted to be Buffy Anne Merteuil, twin sister to Katheryn Merteuil, daughter of Lydia Merteuil and George Merteuil, step daughter to Sebastian Valmont Sr., step sister to Sebastian Valmont Jr. She was happy and content with her life. She didn�t need this. She didn�t want this. Buffy wanted to break down and cry, to curse whoever put her in this situation with the world heavily set upon her shoulders like a block of marble stone. She didn�t want to carry it, didn�t want to be responsible if it broke in a pile of ruble at her feet. Giles looked down at the green grass, ashamed that he had to put such a burden on this young girl, barely a woman. "Come, I�ll take you home," he said, knowing that she would want to have some time alone with her thoughts. |
| Bitter Tears "So did you really fuck her?" Spike asked through the phone. Sebastian stopped writing on his journal and looked up from his position on the bed, his black phone tucked between his head and shoulder. He couldn�t accept what his friend had just asked. "Are you doubting me?" he asked in utter disbelief. "Listen, mate, the psychologist�s daughter was pure and absolute brilliance. Became cover story in less than two days. That was bloody over the top inspiring. I pat your back for that. But the headmaster�s daughter? Miss I-Want-To-Be-A-Bloody-Virgin-�Til-Marriage chit? Even I knew you couldn�t get into her knickers," Spike explained. "Ask Katheryn. She was the one who met me outside Annette�s damn place," Sebastian said as he continued writing on his journal. "You two had a bet didn�t you?" Spike asked knowingly. "Yup, if I didn�t screw Miss High-�N-Mighty in a month, Katheryn got my car." "Dear Lord, wouldn�t want that to happen," Spike said sarcastically, "And if you did screw Little Miss Virgin?" Sebastian smirked. "I get to screw Katheryn." "She pulled the �You can put it anywhere� git on you didn�t she?" Spike snorted, shrewdly, "She popped that bloody line when she challenged me as well. Guess that one 26 year old algebra teacher really did have something going on for her." Sebastian laughed. "He had a thing for BUFFY. Katheryn was the closest thing he can get to the perfect twin," Sebastian filled him in. Spike laughed as well. "So how�s Miss Golden Girl?" Sebastian frowned and looked at the clock. It was already 10:30. "She�s still not home," he said worriedly. "Probably at the Red Head�s place," Spike informed. "Probably." "So when are you gonna screw her?" Spike asked, "You�ve been living with her for almost two years. How come you haven�t gotten any from her?" Sebastian sighed. "She�s difficult." "Can�t be that �difficult.� Bet I can bloody well get her in my bed and scream my name before you can," Spike dared. "Do I feel a challenge coming up?" Sebastian questioned, perking up at the mere mention of bets. His eyes twinkled in mischief in his room, the main colors red and gold. It displayed his passion and his exoticness. "Fine," Spike said confidently, "If get her to drive my stick before you do, then *I* get your car," was his proposal. The bleach blond knew it would bother Sebastian so much to have his prized car as his own. "Fine," Sebastian agreed, "But if I get to her first, then . . . you help me get your sister," he said. Cordelia was one of the few badges he still needed to make it through high school if he would come out of it as a legend. Her stuck up attitude and her attraction to men who were ten years older than her and had a bank account that was the size of Minnesota were the fishes she went for. If he got her to beg for a senior who was known for his womanizing ways, then that would be one trophy worth showing, after Buffy of course. Spike cringed in disgust. He and Cordelia did not get along. And he did not want to play nice if he was to get her into a pleading mode for Sebastian. "Agreed. Happy hunting, Sebastian," Spike said, saying their phrase to seal their bet. "Same to you, William." * * * * The car ride to Buffy�s home was silent. Giles didn�t want to push her to talk, only to tell her to meet him for training at the Magik Shop he owned two blocks away from Manchester. She only nodded in response when the car finally stopped in front of the house. She gave him a nod of thanks before she stepped out of the car and up the steps of her humble abode. *Bitter Sweet Symphony* ~The Verve~ // Cause it�s a bitter sweet symphony that�s life . . . Try to make ends meet, you�re a slave to the money then you die . . . I�ll take you down the only road I�ve ever been down . . . You know the one that takes you to the places where all the things meet, yeah . . . // Buffy entered the quiet home in a zombie-like state. She walked slowly and deliberately, each of her step was forced. Her cerulean eyes that matched the sky and held so much light was now a pair of insipid gray orbs, staring off into space, not looking at anything in particular as she entered through the front door. The lights in the dining room and living room were off, indicating that everyone was asleep or in their own spacious rooms. // No change, I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mold, I am here in my mold, But I�m a million different people from one day to the next . . . I can�t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no . . . // She quietly snuck inside her own bedroom, relieved and thankful for the safety it preserved only for her. She gently closed the door behind her and locked it. Her book bag was dropped by the doorway along with her blazer. She didn�t want to put it neatly away as she usually did. Not tonight. Not when she had other problems to worry about. She pulled away her velvet lavender curtains and glanced outside her window and into the city with its bright lights and its unique and quiet melodious tune of honking cars and sirens. The moon shone brightly above her, shining down like a single flashlight through the darkness, amidst the thickness of the vast horizon of black. // Well I�ve never prayed But tonight I�m on my knees, yeah . . . I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah . . . I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now . . . But the airwaves are clean and there�s nobody singing to me now . . . // // No change, I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mold, I am here in my mold, But I�m a million different people from one day to the next . . . I can�t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . // Her life had just changed in a matter of hours. She went from a normal teenager who hung out with her friends and complained about Mrs. Benson�s Calculus class, to a Vampire Slayer, destined to fight evil and save the world whenever necessary. She was just so confused and terrified. She was only 17 and, already, an entire new world was suddenly hurled at her. The tears began to fall when she realized that her new job was anything but deadly. She wondered if she would survive. She leaned her forehead against the cools glass and embraced herself, denying what was to come, of what was to happen. // Cause it�s a bittersweet symphony this life . . . Trying to make end meet, try to find somebody then you die . . . You know I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mould, I am here in my mould, And I�m a million different people from one day to the next, I can change my mould, no, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . // She felt empty. Exhausted. Vacant. Too many thoughts and emotions ran through her body like a medley of songs, too many mixtures of sounds for her to recognize or make out. Too many revelations to comprehend and accept. And so she hugged herself tighter as streams of salty tears ran down like rivers from her eyes. The damn had exploded, and so did her blockade of trying to hide her inner turmoil. And she let it out. Sobbing, her shoulders shaking as she tightly closed her eyes . . . // We�ve got ya sex and violence, melody and silence (Have you ever been down) (I�ll take you down the only road I�ve ever been down) // Outside, in the dark corner across the road from where the new Slayer lived, was a solitary figure who stood watch over her. He stood just outside the spotlight of the streetlamp, hidden so no one would be able to see him, not even Buffy, herself, who now stood in front of her window, tears escaping from her eyes. Angel felt a pang of hurt within his unbeating heart. She didn�t ought to have to go through this, yet she now had to live with a burden of the world on her fragile back. She was so young, so vivacious . . . // Cause it�s a bittersweet symphony this life . . . Try to make end meet, you�re a slave to money then you die . . . I�ll take you down the only road I�ve ever been down . . . You know the one that takes you to the places where all the things meet, yeah . . . // Her guardian angel felt his own tears slide down his cheeks, but he didn�t bother to wipe them off as he kept his eyes glued on Buffy�s tear streaked face. She didn�t even realize that her pain was reaching out to him like a mass of smoke in the form of toxic hands, clawing inside his soul and imbedding HER ache within HIS body. // No change, I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mold, I am here in my mould, But I�m a million different people from one day to the next . . . I can�t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . // Angel stood there for the entire night, cars, drunks, prostitutes, walking by without being aware of his presence since he was well camouflaged beneath the shadows. Even after Buffy turned away and the lights went out, the vampire still stood at the same spot, not taking his eyes away from her window. // Well I�ve never prayed But tonight I�m on my knees, yeah . . . I need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me, yeah . . . I let the melody shine, let it cleanse my mind, I feel free now . . . But the airways are clean and there�s nobody singing to me now . . . // // No change, I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mold, I am here in my mould, But I�m a million different people from one day to the next . . . I can�t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . // Angel�s body had felt her trepidation and absolute uncertainty. He couldn�t blame her. He�d seen many Slayers in his lifetime. Killed many as well. But they all had the advantage of growing up with their Watchers and training from the very beginning, from the very start. But this one, this Slayer, had slipped through the Council�s fingers. She didn�t have the same opportunity as the others. She was different . . . // Cause it�s a bittersweet symphony this life . . . Try to make end meet, you�re a slave to money then you die . . . I�ll take you down the only road I�ve ever been down . . . You know the one that takes you to the places where all the things meet, yeah . . . // // You know I can change, I can change, I can change, I can change, But I�m here in my mold, I am here in my mould, But I�m a million different people from one day to the next . . . I can�t change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no . . . // I can�t change my mold, No, no, no, no, no . . . The vampire was so deep into his thoughts that he didn�t notice the car that parked itself in front of him. "Hey, Prince Charming!" Whistler called out from the driver�s seat, "You got two hours �til sun-up. Get in the car." "I don�t want to leave her," Angel replied, keeping his gaze locked on her dark window. Whistler sighed in frustration. "Soul Boy, don�t make me haul your dead ass inside this car. I don�t care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming in here like a three year old." "I�d like to see you try," Angel smiled tiredly, as he hesitantly looked away from the window and down at the demon with the funky attire of a bright silk blue shirt, studded black pants, and his usual black derby hat. "Come on, you need to get some rest. The Slayer�s schedule tomorrow contains school, homework, training with her Watcher, then hunting. And guess who�s gonna be there to watch over her like the guardian angel that he is?" Whistler teased knowingly. Angel nodded and stole one more glance at the darkened window. With an unneeded breath, another glance at the dark window of Buffy�s room, he got inside the car before it drove away into the night. Continued . . . |