Descent: Part 1
by IJS
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that are contained within it are not my property. I have every respect for them and hope that my piece of fanfiction does not cause any offence as it was not my intention to do so.
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Part One
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Towards the end of what had been a very pleasant day the park was still full of people. By the man made lake children threw stones at a paper sail boat. They made mock bomb noises at each strike. Laughter could be heard nearby from a group of teenage girls discussing the attributes of the park gardener as he leant forward to pick up litter. From their giggles they were apparently impressed. A man in a suit, walking and reading the evening paper at the same time bumped into a young couple who were equally engrossed in something other than watching where they were going. Numerous couples, groups and individuals passed through the park on their way to or from somewhere. The evening was very pleasant and none were in any hurry and each were in their own little world of contentment or concern. No one noticed or seemed to at any rate, the girl sitting on one of benches that lined the path. No one saw her weeping uncontrollably into her hands that concealed her face. The slight breeze catching her blonde hair.
"This is getting embarrassing" Buffy said at last out loud to herself as she brought her grief in to check.
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose on a handkerchief. Standing up with a determined effort she surveyed the passers-by, allowing only brief glimpses at each. Holding no longer on any one individual than any other except, perhaps the young couple as they walked through the park gates. Finding that her surroundings were now becoming scarce of people Buffy stepped on to the path to continue her journey to work at the restaurant a mile or so from the park. She then realised she was not alone any more. Kendra stood on one side of her. Jenny the other. Buffy, for a moment, thought she was dead herself. Abroad in a LA park.
"Tears are a sign of weakness" commented Kendra. Buffy had missed her accent.
"They get in the way of priorities" added the vision of Jenny.
"They are method of avoiding them even"
"Typical really. We shouldn't be surprised I suppose"
"All emotion and no sense of duty. Not killing Angelus the first time she had a chance being a prime example"
Buffy visibly flinched at the last remark "Make your point. Give your message and leave me alone" She had been plagued by ghosts or visions, she did not know which, ever since she had left Sunnydale. She closed her eyes, fist clenched as though mentally willing the apparitions to vanish. When she opened her eyes they were still there, either side of her.
"Your responsibilities lie back in Sunnydale"
"Your friends need you"
"Enough !" Buffy yelled. "Look, will you two at least stand next to each other. I'm getting tennis watcher's neck tooing and throwing between you" Kendra and Jenny co-operated and stood to one side of Buffy. She looked momentarily surprised. "Now go away" They remained.
"I knew that was too good to be true" Buffy sighed and started to walk again. The sun was nearly down and Buffy knew she would be late for work at this rate.
"That's right. Ignore us. Ignore your responsibility. Think about yourself and no one else" Kendra mocked. Buffy kept walking.
"If you were who you profess to be you wouldn't be talking to me like that"
"You want us to be nice" Jenny said with venom in her voice "We're dead because of you remember. Your boyfriend snapped my neck or had you forgotten ?" Buffy let out an involuntary sigh at that and stopped walking.
"You are not real" she said with only half determination. The ghosts dissipated and were gone. She resumed her journey. "All I want is a normal life" She said out loud to herself.
"That's a high ambition for a slayer" Buffy turned around to see who had spoken. She saw Theresa sitting on a bench she had just passed.
"Be careful Buffy not to fly too close to the Sun" she added and similarly left the scene.
Buffy looked at the vacant bench. "I'd be happy to just catch a glimpse" she said finally.
She exited the park trying not to think about the last few minutes. If they were not true ghosts of her friends, she thought, did that mean she was crazy ? She realised that she really did not care either way. Since the night Angel had died. Since she had killed him. Buffy could not summon any enthusiasm for anything other than getting through each day. Each day, she thought, distanced her from that moment as though time was like covering miles of a journey. The further time elapsed the more distance covered until the moment would disappear over the horizon as Sunnydale had on that coach journey weeks before.
A normal life was impossible, she knew. Since she had been in Los Angeles she had nightly slain countless vampires. She had in fact never been more in demand and was getting tired at the effort. They seemed to travel in groups of three or four and each night she was less sure of seeing dawn. Again, she really did not care.
Suddenly someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her into an alley off to one side. Buffy spun round on impulse only to receive a painful blow to the side of her head that sent her falling back on to the hard ground. The back of her head hit the floor causing her vision to go cloudy. The assailant was on top of her quickly and pinned her arms with his legs.
"Hello little girl" he said mockingly. A calmness suddenly came over Buffy. Though she was weak from nights of slaying and lack of sleep, she knew she could throw off this demon but, she could not bring forth any desire to do so.
"Don't worry" she said in a quiet almost reassuring voice. "I won't struggle" She turned her head to one side offering her neck to be taken in to oblivion. After all, she thought, living in exile is just another way of dying.
"Oh don't say that little girl" the man said " It's more fun when they struggle" Buffy remained silent and still. She closed her eyes to prevent any tears from spoiling the moment. When oblivion did not arrive, she opened her eyes in horror.
"What are you doing !" she screamed.
"Oh come on little girl. You're not that innocent" he sneered.
Realisation hit Buffy like a tangible force. "You're not a vampire !" she yelled and began to struggle violently. The man, however, struck her harder than before, his fist clenched, that sent her half unconscious.
That evening, having gone to her apartment to get changed, Buffy was late for work at the restaurant. Despite that, she got away with just a stern lecture from the manager and agreed to work an extra hour after closing to help clear up. The evening spent serving customers went quickly and soon Buffy was in her bed and dead to the world until shortly after dawn when she awoke screaming.
Day followed night followed day. Buffy followed a set routine of work, rest slay and work. She puzzled over why she kept up the slaying. Probably a sense of guilt at ignoring her calling. She convinced herself that was the reason. That she could not sit behind a closed door all night when innocents were falling victim to demons outside. However, she also saw the futility of it. Surely the slaughter had been going on for centuries, including the time she had spent in Sunnydale. Ultimately, it gave her life meaning, or , at any rate, occupied her mind before she had to surrender to sleep.
A week after the attack in the alley Buffy found herself walking through the park at midnight after work and on her way back to her apartment. It had been a particularly irritating evening with awkward customers making un realistic demands on her and her colleagues. One diner, who had drunk too much, had slapped her behind. She had lashed out and nearly broken his nose. She was fired instantly. She was, therefore, insanely pissed off. Any vampire that dared to challenge the slayer this night was in for a hard time. Despite her appearance, the vampire that did dare was not deterred. Buffy regarded her challenger with the eyes of a hunter standing over its prey.
"Oh good" she said gleefully, "I was so hoping to kill something tonight"
The demon in human form was not perturbed by her remark.
"You must be the new slayer who has been whittling away at the undead in this city" he sneered, "It's been a long time since I drained a slayer. This time I think I'll kill rather than convert. The last slayer I converted became rather tiresome. You know ? too clingy and possessive. She rather cramped my style".
Buffy looked at him humorously. "You know some day I must check just how many slayers there have been. I've lost count how many vamps I've dusted who claim to have killed one"
"Watch learn and die slayer"
"Yadda yadda yadda" she mocked and high kicked the vampire in the chin when he got close enough. He stumbled back but remained on his feet and was able to make a quick response of ramming Buffy in to the nearby bushes.
As they both fell with the momentum of the charge, Buffy rolled back and flipped the demon over her head into more bushes. These were full of thorns and it took him precious seconds to extricate himself. Just enough time for Buffy to make up the distance between them and lunge with the stake she had taken from the inside pocket of her jacket.
In the split second she drove the knife into the vampire's heart she caught the glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. A knife held in his left hand. The foe turned to dust but, for some reason, the metal did not drop to the ground. For a moment Buffy was puzzled at this until she realised that the blade was firmly lodged in her right side, just below her ribs.
"Oh dear" she said matter of factly, "Now that can't be good". Pain finally registered above adrenaline and Buffy crumpled on the spot.
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there always must be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood:
They never forgot
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree.
In Brueghel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the plowman may
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry,
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green Water;
And the expensive delicate ship that must have seen
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,
Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.
( Musee des Beaux Arts - WH Auden )
end of part one
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