A bitter laugh escapes her lips, pained and tense as she feels another pang of pain shoot through her body. She thinks she's going crazy, she shouldn't be laughing, she should be crying in agony, but in some twisted way she wants this, the same want she has for a good slay. That rush of adrenaline like a drug to her, something she cannot deny, something she wants and needs.
It's ironic really. Irony at its best. She thinks that she actually always hated irony, because it was always happening to her. She, the vampire slayer, falls in love with a vampire.
More useless bouts of irony.
She grinds her teeth at the thought, lip curling in a snarl at the thought of some higher being just messing with her.
She's lying on her back in the middle of some woods, she doesn't know where, doesn't really care. She only knows that this is where her feet carried her, where she fell because the pain had become so intense she could no longer move. She didn't think that was possible, but apparently even slayers had their limits to pain. And this was one.
Now all she wants to do is move. Her bones tickle, her muscles itch and her skin feels tight. She is just waiting for the release, the release she has been dreading for a month.
But now that it's here she just wants it over, just wants it to happen. The thought sickens her. She hates herself for this, hates that she is a god damn slayer and now one of the things she should be slaying. She hates that her life just can't be normal.
For a moment the pain softens, and she lets her mind slip away. She's twelve years old back in L.A. with her mother and father, they're celebrating her birthday. All her friends are around her in funny hats, the smell of cake baking is heavy in the air, she's so excited to open her presents. She runs from the kitchen, but she trips as she does, legs crashing harshly into the hardwood floor painfully. She gets up and lets out a whimper, she's so embarrassed and so upset that this could happen to her on her birthday… she thinks how life couldn't get any worse….
The pinching pain like a clamp gripping tightly on her nerves snaps her back to reality and she cries out into the night.
She hated that this was life as a Slayer. Except, she would have honestly rather died in this case. Not had to suffer through a month of insanity, of friends scampering to try and fix things as they always would. But there was no way to fix things. The month of anxious waiting, worried and nervous glances and the realization that things would never again be the same.
She would have rather died then dealing with the fact that she had almost killed Giles.
She had pleaded with him after that for him to killer, but he refused, avoiding her all together after the incident. And could she blame him? She was now more a freak then ever before in her life.
She wasn't surprised her friends had stuck by her side, she knew they would, she just wished they had not, it would have made this easier.
They had tried locking her up. She knew it was a fruitless effort though. Instinct would suddenly flood her and memories became fuzzy. She couldn't recall what had happened after she had closed the gate in the crypt Oz had once used.
Bright green eyes search the sky through blurred and spinning vision, she catches sight of the full moon rising in the east, hate and rage boil in her as she stares at it. It grins at her, pale white light bathing her in its enticing power.
The blur fades and the spinning slows, and for one moment Buffy has hope that maybe it was all some nightmare, some ridiculous dream her subconscious made to terrify her.
But when the worst pain in her life rips her apart, she realizes it was just the calm before the storm. She clamps her eyes shut, screaming through a clenched jaw as it all slams into her.
She hears her bones crunch, crack and pop. Funny how she thinks of that stupid ass cereal, Rice Crispy or whatever, as her body is mutilated and disfigured. She feels the arches of her feet burn as they elongate, her spine screams in agony as it shifts and elongates, arms twist and turn as hands clench in pain, her ribs expand with a pop and her head aches in searing pain as the skull begins to change.
Her muscles burn like hot coals as the race to keep up with the rearranging bones. They swell and refine, strength and stamina greater then even a slayer could imagine coursing through them.
She is breathing heavy and labored, she thinks she is going to die at any second. She hopes to someone that she will die. Anything to make this all just stop.
Then the itch begins, like she's covered in fire ants, each one slowly releasing its venom into every bit of her skin. Blonde fur pokes through every pore, growing thick and long, shining like new in the pale moonlight.
She holds on, Giles words of past lessons on control and patience run through her mind. She desperately clings to the pain, trying to utilize it to ground her. She cannot lose her mind, cannot lose control. Images flash in her mind of the forest, of blood, of the moon, of her friends, of the beast, of herself grinning with long fangs and yellow eyes.
"Nooo!!" She can hear herself scream, but it is no longer a scream, but a roar of pure, raw power.
Suddenly it all stops. Everything that is changing just stops, seeming as if someone just hit the pause button.
She lies there unmoving, the only sound is her heavy breathing and pounding heart. She does not think as her mind races with the constant statement of the, "nonononono!" and denial.
The leaves rustle in the cold fall breeze, the night chilly for southern California. The moon is high now, seeming to watch with curious eyes as one of its children is born. An owl hoots softly in the distance and traffic carries on off in the distance.
Slowly she stirs. She cautiously rolls over onto her side, finding each movement new and unusual. Pushing herself up she stares in awe at new paws, equipped with rough pads and thick claws. Her eyes trail up her arms, now thick with muscle and covered in golden, blonde fur.
She stands on all fours, the position comfortable and seemingly natural. She does not want to look at the rest of herself, see what she has become, but curiosity drives her to do so. She turns her large wolf head to her right, bright green eyes begin to study her new form. Thick muscles and a large barrel, legs that are much more powerful then a natural wolf's, yet elongated and no where near the appearance of a humans. A tail hangs sadly behind her, and she grunts in something that would have been a dry laugh if she were human.
She gives a shake of her new form, exhilarated the pain has ended, and that her mind still remains... mostly.
She cautiously sniffs the air, eyes searching the night, suddenly energy and power surge through her entire being. The woods is light, every scent easily distinguishable and brings an image to mind. The night is hers, it is young and she is hungry. Her thoughts begin to fade away, the thrill of the hunt creeping in and seizing her mind as the predator takes over. She sprints off into the night, seemingly a ghost flashing in and out of the trees as she hunts. She isn't just the slayer anymore, she is an ancient hunter, a beast of the night.
But for Buffy Summer there is no real difference. She has always been a predator, always will be. She could tell herself she hated it, tell her friends it was horrible, but the little voice in the back of her head disagreed, she loved it, needed it, it defined her. The wolf had somehow seamlessly slid into perfect form with the slayer, the two elements merging as one great power within one person.
A joyous howl rang through the quiet Sunnydale night, and the wolf, the slayer and the girl made peace.
xXx
Hmm, not my best work, call it vent writing though, the idea has been nagging me all day, just had to get a scene out, wrote it in under an hour and all… I recently got back into Buffy, love it so much, and in my usual style I had to go turn her into a wolf! Fun. :D
Also, why the heck is there NO fanfics with Werewolf Buffy?!?! I mean, I can't find one!!