Disclaimer: I don't own any of the show or characters. That belongs to Joss Whedon and company.
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The moon shown brightly in the dark sky. Stars twinkled, owls whooted, coyotes howled, and the Slayer slayed. Buffy sat on a gray marble tombstone for the fresh grave. She was waiting for Michelle Edwards to wake up so she could send her on to hell a long wit all the others. She watched the full moon, staring at the face that was in it. Smiling, she looks back down at the dirty earth.
"Any mintue...," she said aloud to herself.
Her lime green tank top and hot pink skirt would espically night. But she didn't care. Playing with her wooden stake in her hand, she watched as the drown dirt began to move. She sat though, waiting for the vampire to rise from her grave. The vampire did, of course. Dirty, stinky and dead, the girl rose out, not facing Buffy.
She growled and said, "Blood...Hungry"
But before it could take a step forward, a stke pummled through her back, hitting it's mark: her dead, cold heart. Buffy sighed, picked up her white crochet bag and began walking over the pile of dust which now lay where the vampire once stood. She knew that the gang of vampires would be there, and if she had to, she would burn down the gym to kill them all. It's not like they could prove she did it anyways. And what's the worst that could happen? It's not like they'd expel her from Hemery High. She wandered off, into the night, humming a song.
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Rave
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