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Author's Corner

[Reviews - 4]

Microsoft Word

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Authors Chapter Notes:
Thanks for the support on these guys! Wrote this in my free English class today, so I hope you enjoy it! :D


Story didn't meet minimum word requirement, so:
PREVIOUSLY IN STORY: Day 2 - Buffy's funeral.
Day 33 - Spike's grief (again!)...
Thank you to Sallyntmare for all her kind words and support!... Thanks to anybody who's been reading. Feedback works wonders on me. I will be continuing "Where Do We Go From Here" and I have SO MANY MORE to type up. I think "All We've Ever Done Is Dance" might be put up here soon. :]
This can be read as a one-shot or part of the series. The series itself is basically a series of one-shots.
Thanks for reading Day 33 - I had no idea it was any good until I got a response - I literally wrote it on the drafts of my mobile phone as I walked around school-shopping with my mother. :P

Ok, that's enough babbling! Enjoy the story. :D







He roared into the cemetery, stolen bike ripping gashes through the mud, splitting the earth of graves.

He didn’t care.

Suddenly stopping, he hopped off of the bike, letting it fall carelessly to the ground behind him. Trudging through the dark graveyard, into the woods, he scrubbed angrily at the tears coursing down his face.

Tyre marks and footprints covered the muddied ground, smashed glass glittered in the aftermath of the Hellion’s party.

A twisted welcoming party…

Closer and closer, he walked on.

His feet naturally followed the path, it was instinct. They followed the trail his heavy boots had made night after night.

He halted abruptly as he entered the little clearing, the scent of fresh dirt, of her assailing him. With shaking limbs, he approached the heap of disturbed earth.
Candles lay abandoned to the grass, their flames long extinguished.


Like forgotten birthday candles…

Pieces of ceramic were crushed into the mud, embedding themselves at the base of the stone marker.

He smelled the blood of two different sources – hers, and another, that of an animal. Fawn, he supposed, given the needs of the ritual.

The scent of fear and dark magicks overwhelmed him.

Shards of wood were protruding out of the earth, like twisted fingers seeking sunlight from the depths of the dirt. They stood as though somebody had pushed them up as they burrowed their way out of the ground.

From their coffin.

He sank to his knees, damp mud soaking through his jeans.

He didn’t care.

He stared into the dark pit of the open grave.

God, it had been one-hundred-and-forty-eight days. Well, one-hundred-and-forty-seven.

‘Cause today didn’t count, did it?



I really hoped ye liked that! I really felt like wrapping it up, and clearly, this takes place during After Life (S6E03) as Spike storms off from the Summers' residence.

So, yep, thanks for the read, I literally love you all! So, now, I must leave you - Oral exam en francais tomorrow! These exams have unfortunately coincided with my joining of Pottermore.com ...Goodbye, life! :D


Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading. Reviews make me "happy-dance". :D




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