Title: Of Alleyways and Monsters
Fandom: Buffy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Author's Note: I heard once that Whedon came up with the idea of Buffy because he always thought it'd be interesting if the first blonde that always get kills in horror movies was more than she seemed. This is how I envision that.
Buffy was slightly distracted as she turned down the alleyway. She was being followed, by a human, and wanted to get rid of him before continuing her hunt. Three women had been brutally killed in the last four weeks, all with their tongues cut out. Giles had found stories of a Tunge demon that cut out its victims' tongues so they couldn't speak its name. She didn't want to have to worry about protecting the human while she was fighting.
"Well, well, well, look at the pretty lady, all alone," the man following Buffy said with a grin and a crazy look in his eyes. He moved towards her slowly, pleased to have cornered her so easily, so smoothly. He was going to have fun with this one.
"Why are you following me?" Buffy asked, no nonsense, trying to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
"To play, of course. You may want to start begging now, while you still have a tongue," the man pulled out a knife, making sure it flashed in what little light there was.
"My tongue? You summoned the Tunge demon!"
"Tunge demon. I like the sound of that. Maybe I'll have to send an anonymous suggestion to the newspapers. Although the 'Unspeakable Killer' they've been using does have a nice ring to it."
"Wait, what? That was you?" Buffy asked a little stunned. She'd run in to a plain old human serial killer. This was a new one for her.
"Not what you expected?" the man laughed.
"'What' is exactly right," Buffy muttered, but the man was too busy gloating to hear.
"The police have no clue. Pretty little things, all of them. Charlene, walking home from class, Anna with the glasses looking oh, so smart, and pretty Sarah. Oh, how they screamed."
"All of them were yours?" Buffy asked, ice in her voice. "Not only is that despicable, but now I've got to deal with a Tunge demon that's angry you stole its MO."
The man raised his knife, stepping closer. There was a roar from the opening to the alley. Primal, it spoke of an evil felt in the bones and the man froze in terror.
"Well," Buffy said, "looks like you're going to find out in a hurry." She yanked the serial killer by the shirt, whirled him against the wall behind the dumpster and pushed him to sit down.
"I'll take that" she said as she plucked the knife from his hands. He shook as she turned to face the monster. He shivered as he sat there, too afraid to run and attract attention. He listened for the blows, waiting for the screams but there were none. Instead he heard the monster roar in anger and in pain as its flesh was torn by the little woman who was supposed to be his victim. He desperately hoped she could protect him. He continued to cower until he saw the monster fly in the air past him, hitting the wall a few feet away and finally lying still. He had been the cause of enough death to recognize this, even in such a creature he never dreamed of in his worst nightmares. When Buffy's face popped around the side of the dumpster he screamed.
"Now, what am I going to do with you?" Buffy asked herself as the Unspeakable Killer finally fainted.
Officer Roberts looked up as he heard something thump through the precinct doors. Hand on his weapon he went to investigate. Partway through the door was the body of a man, muttering to himself. The man staggered to his feet, looking around wildly and seemed to sag with relief when he saw the police officer. He started babbling eagerly about pretty little women and knives and monsters. Pinned to his shirt was a note in clear, feminine handwriting.
I am the Unspeakable Killer
Ask me about:
Charlene
Anna
Sarah