Home
Register
Recent
Categories
Authors
Series
Titles
Completed
Help
Search
Betas
Links
Find-A-Fic
Spuffy Twitter
LiveJournal
Top 10
Contact Us


RSS

Chit-Chat

squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!

Support


Author's Corner

[Reviews - 21]

Microsoft Word Chapter or Story

Printer Chapter or Story

ePub eBook Chapter or Story


- Text Size +
1654 - Reads


Authors Chapter Notes:
If you've read The Host, think Vampires instead of alien invaders (heh heh), and Buffy, instead of Mel.


The future just aint what it used to be.
After

When she woke, her sudden and unexpected lucidness was coupled with the most poignant sense that she was not herself. That she had been asleep for a very long time. Almost a lifetime, or so it seemed.

Her stomach ached with hunger, and her whole body seemed a brutal network of flaming veins. She’d never known such pain, and worst of all, she’d expected it to be over by now. When the masses of faces- more faces than she could remember seeing in such a long time- when they closed in on her, all grinning with their hideous fangs, and their clawed fingers, ridged brows- she’d been certain that death was imminent. And in those final moments, she’d wanted it. Selfishly, she’d almost relished the thought of a release from this agonizing world.

But those thoughts had not lasted, and it was moments later when Dawn and Spike’s faces shivered before her closing eyes. They would have to cope without her now. The planned meeting would never come to pass. They would be there, they would wait, and then they would realise and it would all be over.

Except that it wasn’t. Somehow, those clawed fingers and rigid brows had not lead to comfortable death. Something must have driven them off, because she was still here. Still feeling, thinking, and aching.

Immediate thoughts tore through her, and she raised her hand to the single pair of puncture wounds on her neck. They throbbed when she touched them, and she sucked in a sudden breath. Puncture wounds meant only one of two things- death, or undeath. Did that mean…

She was one of them. The memories flashed back, and she felt, rather than remembered, the terrible slowing of her once-rapid heart beat. The desperate thoughts of her sister and lover, as her hot blood was drawn out of her body by cold, cold lips. All she’d been able to do was long for death. Anything other than the change, that would carve her out like a pumpkin, and place something else inside. Something black, rotten, and evil- that would lead the other vampires back to their hiding place. The thing that would happily offer Dawn and Spike both up for the taking. For the eating. For the change.

Buffy raised her fingers to the puncture wounds once more, and she shivered. They were cold. Her whole body was cold. What was she?

Finally, she opened her eyes.

“Aghh!”

For the first few seconds, all that she saw was blood. Everywhere, coating the street and the walls and the world around her. She wanted to flee from the sight, it was so traumatizing. So deeply, deeply disturbing. But suddenly she couldn’t coax her muscles to move. It’s like she really was an inanimate corpse, lying there in a smattering of violent red, and unable to move. Unable to lift her cheek from the blood-stained concrete.

What had happened here? She wondered, through her paralysis. This blood couldn’t all be her own, surely? Something more than just her murder had taken place here. Something violent, and terrifying.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remember, but her memory was blank. She wasn’t here. She hadn’t seen this. She’d slept through the sounds of guttural ripping, of blood-sodden tearing. What could have done this? What on earth could have created such bloodshed?

Finally, she felt some of the sudden numbness ease from her fingertips. She was able to feel the wetness of the blood again. She reached up to touch the puncture wounds on her neck. Hadn’t imaged this: they were really there.

And just like that, she was crying. Rolling onto all fours and clutching the ground as gut-wrenching sobs ripped through her, taking a hold of her, and wracking through her body like tremors. She wanted to be sick, but there was nothing inside. She was hollow. Was it gone?

Was her soul gone?

She reached inside for that part of herself that she’d never really given much thought to before. She tried to find it, but it slipped through her grasp. It made her gut clench in panic. Was it gone? Everything was over, if her soul was gone.

He wouldn’t love her anymore. And worse. Would she want to hurt him, when she saw him? Would she try to hurt Dawn? Would she give their hiding place away?

No, no, no. Spike wouldn’t let her do any of those things. He’d keep Dawn safe. She couldn’t have left her little sister in better hands. Spike would sooner die than see Dawn hurt. She wished that she could still die for Dawn, now. For William.



Before


Buffy could feel every crevice in the cracked concrete beneath her squatting body. Her hands were numb, braced against the ground, but she couldn’t afford to move. She couldn’t afford to give herself away.

She knew how to be invisible, though it had taken two years of near-misses and lucky escapes. Now she knew the exact distance she needed to be from a vampire, in order to remain undetected. She knew how to silence her footsteps, how to keep her empty stomach from roaring, and most importantly, how to spot one of Them without being close enough to see its teeth, or to feel them in her jugular.

Buffy raised a hand to her throat, and felt its smooth surface. Then she pulled up the collar of her jacket, yanking up the zipper to hide her unmarred flesh. Just incase. An unnecessary precaution that was more of a habit than a smart move: if a vampire was ever close enough to check her throat, he’d be able to hear the wild thudding of her heart, anyway.

Footsteps echoed along the sidewalk. More than one set. Buffy inhaled deeply, willing them to pass her by without stopping. Because if they stopped, then she was done for, and by extension, Dawn was done for too. Her poor, helpless sibling. Nine years old, and completely helpless.

As often as she could bear it, Buffy would tuck her sister into the closet of their dilapidated home and head out into the dangerous world in search of food. On these expeditions she tried to gather as much as possible, in the shortest amount of time. She hated to leave Dawn alone for too long, but she also hated having to leave her too regularly. If it was a choice between starving herself, and staying with Dawn, she knew which she’d choose. But she was practical- thankfully. She knew that starving herself wouldn’t help Dawn in any way, so she threw herself out into the bleak world, and each time, prayed that she would make it back.

At least inside of their home, Dawn was safe. The vampires could not cross the boundaries of a household, and as long as she and Dawn remained the owners of their crumbled home, they were safe. Too bad food didn’t grow on indoor trees.

Buffy shivered, wrapping her arms around her hollow stomach as the vampires passed. They didn’t detect her, too wrapped up in themselves. Buffy thanked God, and watched their feet vanish into the distance. She waited twelve heartbeats, before pulling herself out of her hiding place.

Then she threw herself into the nearest house, tearing soundlessly through its dark rooms in search of the kitchen. Only the thought of food propelled her, and she found it with ease.

She wasn’t safe here, so she worked fast, filling her opened sack with the non-perishables that still lined the shelves. She was well aware of the fact that the vampires could enter this house, just as easily as she herself could. Because it was no longer a home. The owners had either fled, or were dead. Either way, this house was no safer than the street, or the wide open plains that offered no cover, and no hope of concealment.

Buffy tried not to think about how easy it would be for a vampire to find her here. That was the only way she managed to keep going- by ignoring her gruesome thoughts, or by thinking of Dawn. Beautiful, helpless Dawn.

The front door crashed open, and Buffy dropped her sack in fright.

“Shit!” She hissed, as a sudden panic gripped the heart inside her chest. Fear froze her where she stood, and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Her heart felt like a wild bird, desperate to be freed from its cage, and her whole body felt suddenly cold as she waited for him to come.

Her ears strained to follow the sound of his light, almost inaudible footsteps. She did not try to hide. If he heard her, then there would be no point. Her only hope now was that he might bypass this room. Might be looking for something, other than herself.

She heard him creep along the hallway, pushing open doors with quiet purpose. He stopped outside of the kitchen door, and she held her breath. Her whole body ached through the numbness of her stance- the rigid tenacity of her willful limbs.

Slowly, she saw the handle turn lower. Inch by inch, as if in slow motion, and with it, all the air sank from her body. Her frozen legs seemed to melt, as a cold and awful acceptance washed over her. This was it. This was the moment that had been inevitable, ever since the earth had fallen into this eternal darkness. She’d always been foolish to think otherwise. To expect survival, when so many others had fallen and perished.

Her fingers gripped the half-filled food sack, and a sharp stab of regret tore through her body as she thought of Dawn. The child would crouch inside that closet until she withered to nothing. Vampires would find her eventually, after she died and the barriers to their home fell. But perhaps by then her small body would be too wrought for them to even bother feeding from. Buffy didn’t know whether this thought were a comfort, or something much worse.

She was numb.

The door handle clicked as it reached full hilt, and then the door flew open and she was face to face with the one who would be the end of her. He was beautiful, of course. They all were, when they took their human forms. In the early days, that beauty had been a necessary component for their attraction of prey. Now it was just a sick irony. Their beautiful faces, like angels, which would morph into the hideously demonic truth.

He stared at her, seeming just as surprised as she was to find himself opposite a creature of another species. For a moment, they both just stared, hazel green eyes boring into icy blue, daring him, and begging him not to, both at the same time.

And then Buffy’s survival instinct reared its precious head for one last time.

She turned abruptly on her heel, and dashed for the back door. She slammed into it, hoping and praying that it would be unlocked, though running would grant her but a few more seconds of life. He would be faster than her anyway, and she couldn’t hope to outrun him. Really, running through the door would have no impact whatsoever upon her inevitable demise, but she had to try. It was human nature.

As it happened, there really was no point.

The door was locked, and she crashed into it hopelessly, letting out a distressed cry as she realised. A moment later, she felt him behind her- his body was hard and fatal as it crushed her into the door, pinning her there like a doll. She was helpless, and it was awful.

Maybe if she’d eaten, or if she hadn’t been away from home for so long, she might’ve been stronger. She might’ve been able to put up at least a bit of a fight. But as it was, her body betrayed her, and she slackened in his hold. Giving in. Giving up. His hold tightened, and he turned her, his blue eyes as dark as indigo now as he glared down at her.

“Why d’you run?” He asked, a thick British accent making his words seem harsher, like gravel. Buffy stared back at him, her eyes flitting to the two puncture wounds on his neck. They were messier than the others she’d seen. She shivered as his grip tightened, closing her eyes so she didn’t have to see his face change. “Look at me you filth.” He said, giving her a hard shake to match his words. “I want you to look at me as I kill you.”

Buffy choked on her breath as he forced her chin up with hard fingers, her eyes opening reflexively, spilling unwanted tears down her cheeks. He sneered at her pain, and she tried to blink it away. She wished she could be strong. She’d always hoped that she’d be strong at the end.

“Please-” she tried, as if their might be mercy in his repertoire. There wasn’t. His eyes darkened even further, and he seemed disgusted by her pleading. Instead, his brutal fingers moved to the collar of her jacket, and he yanked the left side down to inspect her neck. To peruse it, before delivering his lethal bite.

Buffy watched his expression as he examined the unmarred white column of her throat. He frowned, touching it, before abruptly pushing her collar down on the other side. His hands encircled her throat, and he frowned more deeply. He tilted her chin up, turned her face this way, and that.

Then he let out a loud and resounding gasp, which rattled through his lips and seemed to physically force him backwards.

Buffy didn’t know what had happened, but somehow she had been granted the reprise that she longed for. He staggered back from her, so unlike a demon, so much like a man. And she grabbed the lock on the door, twisting it so hard that she half expected it to come off in her hand. The back door flew open and she plunged out into the darkness without giving the angel-faced demon another thought.

“Wait!” He called after her, as her suddenly revived body broke out into a run that was more powerful than she had considered herself capable of. Her feet pounded against the cold pavement as she flew from her assailant, and victory was a taste on her tongue. If he gave her just a moments head start, then perhaps there was hope for her after all. Perhaps-

Hands closed around both of her arms, and she fought against them as they dragged her down, pulling her hope away all too soon. “No!” She cried, battling with all of her regained strength, “No! Not now!”

Two monsters held her firm, the demon faces replacing their human guises. Their eyes were a bright amber, and she wondered which hideous face belonged to the one from the kitchen. They grinned wickedly, pushing her down with brute force, so that he body was flat against the ground and they could crawl over her like wild beasts. Buffy’s heart was beating wildly, and she cried out as their teeth pierced her flesh. One of them at her shoulder. The other at her thigh. She cried out again, desperate for rescue, but knowing that it wouldn’t come. Desperate instead, perhaps, for an ending.

And then it was over. The two creatures were torn from her with incredible force, and a firm set of hands were hauling her back to her feet. Her gaze clashed with icy blue when she was standing once more, and she was surprised to see him- not one of the two, but different. Instantly she knew that he had saved her in order to take her for himself. She felt sick as hope dashed itself into fear again so abruptly.

The two creatures were crawling back towards her again with astonishing speed. He kicked one of them away, then turned to the other. It clawed at Buffy’s leg, though the blue eyed monster snatched her free.

“Can you run?” His question was quick. Unexpected.

She just stared at him, and he shook her shoulders- hard.

“Yes.” She said quickly, not sure whether running with him would be better than being torn apart by these creatures. But before she even had time to consider it, they were running. Her feet were pounding against the ground once more, and his hand was firm in hers. She lost her footing, but he didn’t let her fall, or lose pace. The air flew past them, like two birds streaming through the night sky. Buffy looked over her shoulder, and saw the other two hot on their heels. She wished she was strong enough to break his grip, but even now, she knew that she’d fall without his support. The pounding of her feet was as hopeless as anything else.

“Up here.” He commanded, his voice tight with exhaustion. She looked at the house he was tugging her toward, looked back at the monsters snapping at her heels, felt herself flying up the steps, heard the door smash open and let herself be dragged through. He tripped over the threshold, bringing her down on top of him, disorienting her.

She looked up in time to see the two vampires smash into the invisible barrier, recoiling with pain as it forced them back down the steps. They snarled, climbing back up to the doorway again, and slamming angry hands against the invisible wall.

Their menacing faces glared at her from only inches away, but Buffy no longer feared them. As long as the barrier was there, they could not enter. And the existence of that barrier meant something much more profound: the existence of another human being. Another survivor, still fighting on. Inside this house, right now, waiting for her.

She pushed herself up from the forgotten body, wondering where that other human could be, before feeling the rapid heartbeat beneath her flat palm.

With a sudden gasp, she looked back down into those startling blue eyes, and felt her own widen with genuine shock. “You’re…” She started, unable to find a word suitable enough for conveying what he was to her- who he was. “You’re…”

“And so are you.” He said with a sigh, his head falling back against the wooden floor of the house’s entryway. Buffy saw a tear squeeze its way out of the corner of his eye, and she almost couldn’t breathe. He existed. He was right here, beneath her finger tips, another person. She and Dawn were not the last.

For a very long time, neither could move. Buffy’s palm remained upon his heart as its wild beat gradually slowed, and her eyes remained glued to his wonderful human face. She couldn’t look away from his lips, which parted for every necessary breath. The awe in her expression was justified. The overwhelming feeling in her chest almost caused her to collapse against him in euphoria.

Eventually, his eyes opened again, and he gazed back up at her with an expression which she was sure would mirror her own. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again, shaking his head.

Finally, he sat up, and Buffy’s hands fell away from his chest. He urged her from his lap, and the sense of loss was astonishing. They both stood, ignoring the snarling vampires still clawing stupidly at the barrier that kept them from entering the house. They simply gazed at each other, as if mesmerized. As if everything else had fallen away now.

“I thought I was the last.” The man eventually admitted, a tremble to his voice. “I’d given up hope.” Buffy merely nodded, unable to force her lips to create words. Her tongue felt thick in her mouth, and her throat felt like it was on fire. His gaze was like water. “I’m sorry that I hurt you: that I frightened you. I thought you were…”

“I thought you were, too.” Buffy admitted, barely able to choke the words out. His gaze lowered at that, and then travelled up the length of her. He drank her in, over and over, as if unable to fully accept that she was here. In front of him. A perfect stranger, and yet, his only remaining friend on the entire planet.

“It’s been so long.” He choked out, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “I…”

They reached for each other at the same time, arms encircling one another in an instinctual need for comfort. He pressed her small body against his, burrowing his head in the crook of her neck and shuddering with the sudden wave of emotion. Buffy’s aching heart was filled with an emotion that she’d almost forgotten about. An emotion that she hadn’t felt for so very long- that she’d hadn’t seemed to have space for, with all of the fear that bubbled inside of her. But here it was again, circling her heart and making her feel warm- as if the sun had come back for good.

Happy. She felt happy. And more than just that, she felt hope. The sharp and undeniable burn of hope.

They held each other for a very long time, but eventually he pulled back. When she looked at him now, the tears were gone. His face was smooth and beautiful, and he grinned. “Hello,” he said, his tone rueful, “I’m Adam. You must be Eve.”

And abruptly, he kissed her.




Enter the security code shown below:
Note: You may submit either a rating or a review or both.