Hate This Town I

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

Graveyard #12

Sunnydale, California

11:12 PM, A School Night

Into every generation, a slayer is born: One girl in all the world, a Chosen One.

A small blonde stood in the heart of a once-quiet graveyard, her expression focused. Her hair flowed down to her shoulders, the only thing keeping too much of it out her face being a white barrette. In her hand, she held up a wooden stake, the tip of it sharpened to a threatening anddeadlypoint.

She alone will wield the strength and skill to fight the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness.

Roars and hisses filled the air as the ground shifted and pale clawed hands began to dig their way free from the graves that once held their unmoving bodies.

To stop the spread of their evil -

In barely any time at all, three yellow-eyed vampires stood above ground once more, their bodies hunched as they rushed hungrily toward what they saw as their first meal.

As usual, the girl didn't hesitate.

Moving fast enough that she was almost a blur, she jabbed the stake in her hand through the chest of the first bloodsucker, a brown-haired man that would have bemoaned his unlife if he still had a soul to speak of.

In the blink of an eye, the vampire's body became a cloud of glowing green dust.

- And the swell of their number.

Buffy didn't stop.

Still in motion, the girl rushed past the second vampire, a brown-haired woman in a blue top Buffy might have called 'too much', if she was in the mood to speak to the freshly risen. Leaping and spinning into the air, the girl drove her trusty stake through the slutty vampire's back, before dropping to the ground.

She is The Slayer.

Both her kills done so quickly that neither of the ashes had yet to fully fall to the ground, still possessed of that greenish glow, the third yellow-eyed bloodsucker could only stare in alarm as Buffy stared him down.

He turned to run, fear propelling him as fast as his unblooded corpse could carry him, and dashed past another potential victim, a tall bespectacled figure in a full three-piece tweed suit, the man engrossed in a book even as he raised his head slightly and called out to his charge with a somewhat bored tone. "One left, Buffy."

The girl smirked, reaching for a wreath balanced against a gravestone. "On it."

With superhuman strength, she hurled the thing and it flew hard and fast. It slammed into the back of the fleeing vampire's skull with an audiblethwack, sending the monster screaming into an open grave.

Only to fall right onto the wooden handle of a shovel, his body turning to ashes a second later.

"You had a bit of luck with that slaying," the man said, casually adjusting his glasses with his index.

Buffy scoffed with a smirk on her face. "C'mon, Giles, give a girl credit," she replied, both hands on her hips. "I'm still in a bad mood over losing out on a potential hottie."

"Potential 'hottie' aside," Rupert Giles continued, matching her smirk with a slight smile of his own, "you did eliminate the Anointed One, which is to be commended. More than that, your vampire-slaying skills have improved greatly in the last few weeks."

Buffy turned to her Watcher, a conflicted look on her face. "Improved enough you think Willow and Xander might stay out of danger?"

The librarian could only grimace, looking aside rather than directly at his Slayer. "...That rather depends on them, doesn't it? At the very least, you can at least be happy they're safe in their beds now."

– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –

The late night was dark in Sunnydale, the streets eerily calm as Xander strolled past the zoo, tossing a stake into the air with a practiced flick of his wrist. Each time it spun, catching the faint moonlight, before he snatched it back, the wood feeling increasingly familiar in his grip. The repetitive motion was almost soothing, a physical manifestation of his growing confidence in his newfound role as a vampire hunter.

He was whistling a tune you could only really describe as 'jaunty', the upbeat melody at odds with the sinister atmosphere of the deserted streets.Nothing like a little post-slayage celebration,he thought, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Gotta enjoy the little things in life, right?

His mind drifted back to the three kills he'd just made, a vampire sire standing over two fresh graves, his back unprotected as Xander snuck up on him. Amateur move, buddy,he thought, shaking his head at the memory. Rule number one of being a creature of the night: always watch your back.

Thinking back on it, the sire had been an unexpectedly careful one, in Xander's opinion. He might have had a small pool of experience to draw from given his three weeks of vampire hunting, but a vampire that actually waited around for their childe to rise from the grave was new to him. Gotta give him props for dedication, I guess, he mused, absently flipping the stake in his hand.

The guy probably had a whole speech planned too...

Something about the dark embrace and the eternity of blood or maybe something about how they have joined the rulers of the night or something like that. Probably had a whole presentation ready to go, Xander thought, rolling his eyes. Complete with dramatic lighting and a smoke machine.

Or he could have just been a good vampire dad,Xander let out a snort at the thought of it.Too bad. Should've picked a better career path, buddy. One that doesn't end with a pointy stick to the heart.

The fight itself had been quick, almost too easy.

Xander had rushed in and staked him from the back, the bloodsucker probably too confused to know what was happening. The poor old leech hadn't even let out a sound before he was already dust in the wind.

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The two newborns, barely out of their graves, were still dazed, their feral instincts not yet kicked in. They looked more confused than threatening, making it almost a mercy when he ended their short un-lives. Better than letting them wake up and start munching on the populace, I guess, he reasoned, trying to push down the slight guilt that always accompanied staking a vamp that hadn't actually done anything yet. It's not murder if they're already dead, right?

His duty for the night done, Xander continued on his way home with a pep in his step, the stake still twirling between his fingers. Three vamps tonight. That's gotta be some kind of average, right? he reasoned, recalling something Sam had mentioned. Right. I'm totally on track to be like, the male Slayer of Sunnydale or something.

Each night out sharpened his instincts a bit more, made him a better fighter. He wasn't sure, but Xander could swear that he'd gotten stronger in the last three weeks too.

A little bit faster, even.

Must be all that vampire chasing, he thought, flexing his free arm experimentally. Cardio's a hell of a workout.

He wasn't really sure how to measure it, but honestly, he doubted he was just imagining it. Either the vampires had gotten easier to wrestle, or he was bulking up somehow. "I've been drinking my milk and getting big and strong," he joked, his voice echoing slightly in the empty street.

He decided to walk through Saunder's Field, choosing to cut through the park on his way from the Mt. Sinai cemetery, thinking it'd be a slightly shorter way home. And maybe I'll run into a few more vamps on the way, he thought with a grin, his fingers tightening around the stake in his hand.

He was walking through the park, his newly acquired Devil senses granting him rather good night vision as he looked around, not noticing how good the night looked when it wasn't so... dark. Huh, who knew having demon blood would come with perks like this? he mused, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. Guess it's not all just super strength and a craving for meat.

"Nothing to be scared of when you can see all o-" He paused mid-sentence, sniffing the air, nostrils flaring as the familiar smell of grave dust and old blood mixed with something else hit him.

"...is that WD-40?" he muttered to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted as something rushed out at him from the bushes, leaping and growling like a wild animal. Xander let out a yelp of surprise and dropped to the floor, the figure sailing over him in a blur of black and silver.

His stake rolled out of his hand, stopping at the base of a nearby tree, as Xander burst to his feet to face his attacker, already falling into a loose boxing stance. "Alright, Mister Bloodsucker, let's make this quick, I've got a cold pizza waiting for me back at the h-"

The words died in his mouth as the figure stood up to face him, and Xander found himself blinking in confusion, his eyes meeting his enemy's.

The vampire stared back at him with evil glowing yellow eyes deep-set into a pale, veined face with caveman-like furrowed brows and gaunt, sharply-defined cheekbones, clearly nothing but death and blood and other badness on its mind. The thuggish-looking bloodsucker stood tall, his long greasy black hair hanging limply around his face. Someone needs a haircut. And a shower. And a-

His mental list was cut short as he noticed the vampire's attire, the blood-drinking creature of the night dressed in old-looking, almost medieval-style black leather armor. Great, a Renaissance Fair reject, Xander thought, rolling his eyes. Just what I needed tonight.

But none of that was what really caught Xander's attention.

No, what made him do a double-take was the vampire's hand.

Or rather, the lack thereof.

"I-is... is that a claw?" he asked, one confused finger raised to point at the vampire's missing hand, the limb replaced by three wickedly sharp metal blades that glinted in the moonlight.

Xander stared in pure confusion, his mind trying to wrap itself around this. "W-why do you have a claw?" he asked, his voice unsteady from bewilderment, rather than fear.

The vampire didn't answer, choosing instead to hiss menacingly and take a threatening step forward, the clawed hand held high in anticipation.

"No! No fighting!" Xander pointed at him indignantly, even as the vampire continued to advance, steps slow and deliberate like the nocturnal predator it was. "Answer that first!"

The creature lunged, its speed catching Xander off guard as he barely managed to dodge the swipe of its claw, the metal blades whistling through the air inches from his face.Shit, he's fast!Xander thought, his heart pounding as he ducked and weaved, trying to keep some distance between himself and the vampire.

This was no newborn, that much was clear.

The strength and speed behind each blow was almost twice that of any leech Xander had faced in the last three weeks, the vampire's movements a blur as it pressed its advantage. Okay, he's a bit different, Xander thought, wincing as the claw caught his upper arm, tearing through his sleeve and leaving a shallow gash.

He dove to the side, rolling and coming up in a crouch near the tree where his stake had fallen. His fingers scrabbled for the weapon, but even as he gripped it tight, the vampire was on him again in an instant, its claw descending in a deadly arc. Xander threw himself backwards, the blades sinking into the tree trunk where his head had been a moment before.

Too close, way too close, he thought, his breath coming in harsh pants as he scrambled to his feet, stake in hand.Gotta end this quick, before he ends me.

The vampire yanked its claw free from the tree, splinters flying as it turned to face Xander again, its eyes glowing with malice. It stalked forward, its movements more cautious now, wary of the stake in Xander's hand.

He gripped the stake tighter, his muscles tense. Okay, Xander, time to put all that practice to use.

"Come on, Dracula's ugly cousin, let's dance," Xander quipped, trying to piss the leech off, hoping to goad it into making a mistake. Not a newborn. Maybe a fledge? Knight? Fuck, I should've paid more attention to Sam's vampire hierarchy lessons.

The vampire didn't respond with words but with action, lunging forward with a speed that seemed to blur the distance between them. Xander's reaction was raw, a mix of enhanced reflexes and sheer survival instinct. He ducked under the swipe, feeling the claws miss his head by mere inches, the wind of their passage ruffling his hair.

Circling around, Xander kept his back to the open park, not wanting to get pinned against a tree or caught in the bushes. The vampire's black eyes narrowed as it mirrored Xander's movements, its clawed hand ready to strike, the metal gleaming in the moonlight.

With no better plan, Xander feinted to the left and then darted right, his speed a slight edge he had yet to fully exploit. The vampire, anticipating a direct attack, was momentarily off balance, its weight shifted to the wrong side. Now or never, Xander thought grimly, seeing his opening.

As the vampire adjusted its stance, Xander charged, the ground beneath his feet crunching with the force of his sprint. He closed the distance before the vampire could fully recover, ducking under another wild swing and coming up inside its guard, close enough to smell the decay on its breath.

"Guess what? You're it," Xander said with a heavy breath, using all his strength to drive the stake forward, aiming for the heart.

The stake found its mark, plunging into the vampire's chest with a sickening crunch, like a hammer driving a nail into rotting wood. For a moment, time seemed to slow as the vampire's face went wide with shock, its yellow eyes bulging. Then, it exploded into a cloud of dust, the particles catching in Xander's throat and making him cough as they settled around him, leaving him alone in the clearing, the stake stabbing uselessly at the night air.

Panting, Xander dropped his arm to his side, the adrenaline slowly fading from his veins as he tried to catch his breath. "Least that's over..." he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Gotta remember to thank Sam for those extra training sessions. Saved my ass tonight.

"Oh... hello," a sweet voice sounded out from behind him, making Xander spin around, his heart leaping into his throat. "How are you, young man?"

Xander sniffed the air again, the scent of something sharp and grassy hitting his nostrils, with the smell of old blood and something else that made him feel... good.

Too good.

The teenage Devil slowly turned on his heels, eyes half-lidded as he met what could only be described as a hot older woman standing a few meters away; dark hair, full figure and long, long legs. Well hello there, Mrs. Robinson, Xander thought, mind going to places it probably shouldn't.

And I probably gotta end her too, Xander frowned, not ready for another fight, but knowing he didn't have much choice. "So, what's your deal, demon lady?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual, even as his grip tightened on the stake.

The woman's eyes glowed a sickly green, and her hands shifted into dark green mottled insect-like giant blades, the transformation making Xander's stomach turn. Oh great, a praying mantis demon. Just what I always wanted. Not.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping. "So... we're doing this."Guess I'll be late for that pizza after all.