Carcass *Chapter 11 up on 3/01*
by DawnBTVS
Carcass (In Progress)
Okay:
Post Chosen, post not fade away.
Willow is made a vampire. We all know Buffy's...jonesing for vamps, so
hook 'em up. Slow build preferred.
Restrictions:
Kennedy cannot be directly involved in the story. She can be
indirectly involved though.
Tara's being brought back to life must complicate things, but not
*too* much
Spike and Angel may also make an appearance, which will result in
Willow being "territorial" towards Buffy while they are around
Items that MUST BE included somehow:
a ninja turtle (action figure)
a box of wheaties or the actual cereal
a hairbrush
three books of your choice
Author: DawnBTVS
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Fox Corporation or Mutant Enemy so there.
Rating: R probably
A/N: Answer to Scott's challenge. My other story will continue to be worked on so don't worry.
Background: Post Chosen and Post Not Fade Away
Kennedy had abandoned me a few weeks ago, citing that she needed space, and that going to Antarctica would solve the hole in her heart. We had been living in Spain for a while but I decided to return to the United States shortly after. Originally, I was going to return to Sunnydale but that was a useless idea since the whole town was still craterville as far as I knew. So, I opted to head to Los Angeles. I tried to stay in the shadows, lay low, that kind of deal. I was trying to stay out of sight of Angel. I heard he had taken control of Wolfram and Hart. I also heard a few rumblings that Buffy might be in town but I wasn't sure about that. It helped make the move quicker though. I'm waiting for a taxi right now. It's dark tonight and I don't feel like walking. I hear footsteps behind me but ignore them as they draw closer. I quietly push my hand into my jeans pocket, gripping the cross. I don't wear it but I know enough to still keep it handy. I start to lift it out when I feel a hand wrap around my throat, trying to choke the breath out of me.
"I got staked when I returned home," whispers a chilling voice in my left ear. I clench my eyes shut, hoping against hope that it's not her.
"You're gone," I whisper. I hear a sigh, then a finger begins to softly stroke my cheek. I squirm at the feeling, trying to get away but she only tightens her grip. She pulls my hand out, squeezing her nails into the back of my hand until the cross falls onto the pavement.
"I was, kitty. You're all grown up now, aren't you? I long for a playmate," she whispers again. She lets out a short giggle, pulling her hand away. I'm scared now and she can smell it all over me I'm sure.
"Go play with yourself," I growl, growing angry at her. Angry that she'd dare put me in this position. She gives me a sharp slap upon the head for that.
"I did. It gets so boring, though. You could make it lively, I bet," she says, nuzzling my neck. My eyes are still clenched tight. I try to shove her away but she yanks me back with power that I don't have.
"How'd you get back?" I ask, trying to delay my inevitable death. If I'm lucky, maybe Angel will save me. Oh, wait, he's head of an evil law firm.
"Somebody was nice enough to cast a spell. She tasted like vanilla though. I didn't recognize her," she answers. I quickly try to wrack my mind as to who it could be. "Said her name was Amy," she says softly. I feel cold wipe over my body at the mention of the name. I can feel my head twisting to the side, exposing my neck. I try to struggle some more but it's having no visible effect except to make her more delighted.
"I don't want to die," I plead. I figure begging is the only way out now.
"Why not? Is life that glamorous? I can't remember life. I remember how much life sucked when I came back and met you. I just can't remember life, life. I have memories but they only speak in pictures. The feelings left in fear. You don't have to fear though," she whispers into my ear. I shake my head once but she promptly yanks my head harder to the side, earning a yelp from me.
"Please," I beg, tears starting to fall down my cheeks. She just shushes me with a finger against my lips.
"You're stronger than begging. You're me and I'm you. Imagine the power. We're connected," she whispers, inching towards my neck. My mind does a snapshot of everybody I ever loved in life. Giles. Jenny Calendar. Buffy. Tara. Xander. Dawn. I can feel a sharp pinch on my neck, like the insertion of a needle. I stiffen a little at the breaking of the skin but begin to feel myself relaxing as she drinks from me.
"C-cold," I mumble. She just keeps drinking though, oblivious to the fact that I'm headed towards death. I begin to slump to the ground, her body following the route mine leads. I can see a black cloud coming towards me. It's darker than the blackness surrounding it. I'm not sure how that's possible. I feel her hand pressed against the back of my head. She places her wrist, soft, cold flesh, against my lips. I don't know what I'm doing or why. I drink greedily from her, the image of the black cloud still in my mind. She pulls her wrist away then, laying me down on the pavement. I open my eyes for an instant, but all I see is black.
~~~BTVS~~~
I wake up in silence and seemingly alone. I'm lying on a navy bedspread in a run down hotel room. I'm wearing the clothes I was wearing...yesterday? I try to lift myself up on the bed but groan in pain. My stomach feels like it's trying to eat me up from the inside. I curl into a ball, hands placed on my stomach in an attempt to appease it and stop the suffering. I manage to roll myself off the bed, landing my ribs on my shoes. I grunt in pain and roll off them. I grab them with one hand. I pull them on, leaving the laces untied. I use the bedspread to help myself to my feet, my right arm still draped over my stomach. The room has nothing else in it, except for a black leather jacket that isn't mine. I stumble over, grabbing it, and throwing it on. I press a hand against my wrist, trying to find a pulse. I get nothing. I quickly lift the hand to my neck before pulling my hand away in frustration. She fucking turned me! I glance at the door, suddenly realizing there are no windows here. I stumble to the door and pull it open. I run down the steps best I can in my condition. I yank open the front door, glad to see it's night. I walk outside, nearly doubling over from the smells assaulting my nostrils.
"God," I mumble. The earth, the salt water, and the stench of sweat and perfume all intermingle as if trying to persuade me to pass out. I look around, trying to find something can end the torment I'm in. I fall to my knees, both arms now clutching my stomach like it might explode. I hear the screech of a car behind me. The explosion in my ears representing the sound nearly causes me to scream in further torment. Padded footsteps come toward me as I continue to show my suffering. It's a brunette. She kneels down in front of me. She's wearing white sneakers, blue jeans, and a black t-shirt espousing some local band called, "The Bricklayers," but all I can hear is the pounding in my skull. It's different from the pain gnawing my stomach apart though.
"You okay?" she asks like the dumb animal she is. I shake my head, trying to stretch an arm out to her.
"Just help me up," I whisper. She nods her head, helping me to my feet. I remain crouched over as she lifts my arm to place over her shoulders. I can feel the pounding in my skull, constant in its deafening boom. I let my eyes roam to her neck, spotting the carotid artery. I can feel myself almost drooling at the sight. She's just staring at her car. I lean forward, fangs unsheathing with ease that I almost pull back in surprise. I place my fangs into her neck with the sound of a gargled scream reaching just my ears. I drink deeply, savoring the coppery taste. I finish within a minute, letting her body drop to the ground. I stare around me, glad that some of the pain in my stomach is wearing off. I walk over to the car, my legs now able to support me a bit better. I walk back to my victim, fishing the keys off her. She drives a Honda Civic. I slide into the driver's side and start the car up. I figure I should head back to the hotel I was originally living out of before she changed me. The thought of where my sire is nags at me. I slam on the gas pedal, trying to figure out what she's doing.
~~~BTVS~~~
"Dawn!" Buffy calls out up the stairs. Dawn comes scrambling out of her bedroom, staring down at Buffy in annoyance.
"What? Look, I'm getting ready for school. Ever since you broke up with The Immortal, you've been Miss Bossy. You were the one who moved us to Los Angeles but I wanted to stay there," Dawn states. Buffy sighs and turns away.
"Yeah, because of the boy who was like three years older than you and I think he was even married. Besides, this way we can keep in contact with Andrew better. He's living up in San Diego," Buffy says, aware that Dawn isn't listening because she's back in her bedroom getting ready. Buffy sighs, walking into the kitchen where a stack of French toast waits on a plate. Buffy takes a seat at the table, staring at the French toast with disinterest. She gets up, opening the cabinet door, and grabbing a box of Wheaties. She turns to set it down on the table, knowing she isn't going to eat the French toast and Dawn likely won't either. Another breakfast wasted. Buffy sets the cereal down just as the door opens.
"Buffy, some help please," grunts Giles from the doorway. Buffy turns her eyes, catching sight of Giles trying to maintain the balance of several large volumes of text probably revolving around demons. Buffy is instantly to her feet, taking the books, and carrying them to the living room. She manages to overstep the numerous books scattered about on the rug before setting them down on a mahogany coffee table. She turns as Giles enters the room.
"Thanks. I received some rare volumes in that batch so I figured it'd be best if I brought them over. I can see you're uh...still going through them?" Giles asks, gesturing at the books splayed out on the couch in particular. Buffy sheepishly nods her head.
"Yeah. Faith stops by sometimes to help out when Xander's working at his construction company. I just think it's good to keep myself ready, you know. I'm still not sure if The First is dead or what and Los Angeles is still a center for demonic activity, even if it's not on a Hellmouth," Buffy explains. Giles nods his head as Dawn comes dashing into the room in a fit of panic.
"Where's my book bag? I'm gonna be so late!" Dawn mutters.
"It's in the dining room," Buffy answers. Dawn scrambles towards the room as Giles turns to Buffy.
"Is she still driving?" Giles asks. Buffy nods her head with an unhappy frown.
"Oh yeah. She's been borrowing my 2003 Elantra whenever she sees fit. It's come to my attention that the '97 Camry is too old for her. Do you know that I slaved for a year as a secretary in some corporate building in Italy to get that? Okay, so I kinda had some help from you too," Buffy admits with a shy smile. Giles nods his head, taking a step forward while surmising the books still.
"Have you heard from some of the others?" Giles asks. Buffy shakes her head with a frown.
"Not from Kennedy or Willow if that's who you're talking about. I left Willow several messages about a month back but I didn't get an answer. Knowing how the two of them love sight seeing though..." Buffy trails off. Dawn appears in the doorway.
"Love you both, bye," she says, dashing out the front door. A few moments later, a loud screech, followed by a honk is heard. Buffy sighs, staring at Giles with an apologetic smile.
"I'll contact Angel and see-" Giles starts but Buffy swiftly cuts him off.
"No, no contacting Angel. He's head of Wolfram and Hart and who knows how that's changed him. Besides, I'm sure Willow's safe. She's probably drinking coffee and getting ready to head to the computer office," Buffy states. Giles nods his head but his face shows his unsure belief. Buffy sighs, taking a seat on the only unoccupied area of the couch and sweeps an arm over the books. "So, want to help?" Buffy asks with a small smile.