Prologue

Vampires. Vampires. More Vampires. That's all she could see, just vampires, and one person standing between them and the world: her. That couldn't be right. That wasn't her job. It was her job to help out with the Slaying, and screw things up. Not stop hordes and hordes of Vampires from overtaking the world. She wasn't able to do that, no living person was able to do that, well, except Buffy. She looked around, but couldn't see the small blonde girl, she just saw more vampires. Every fibre of her being was screaming at her that it wasn't right for her to be there. Suddenly, the vampires came at her with full force, and she was wondering how long it would take for her to die. Minutes? Seconds? Microseconds? She didn't even know where that thought had come from, Microseconds? She didn't even know what that was, yet, she was thinking it. She began to fight, but she didn't know how she was fighting. She didn't know how to fight, but yet here she was, fighting like there was no tomorrow, which she knew, for her, was true. She was fighting with amazing speed and strength, which she didn't know where she had gotten from. Sure, she knew that she was a Slayer, or at least now, part Slayer, but she was never able to fight like this. Then, without even knowing what she was doing, she reached out her hand and the vampires flew back with more force that she had ever seen. She didn't even know if she'd be able to harness the power capable of doing that without sending her off the deep end, again. She didn't want to kill anyone, but as she looked around between punches and kicks, she saw that there was no one around her, literally. The vampires had gone, and there was no one, and this terrified her more than she had ever let on. For her whole life, she had struggled to keep in good contact with people, keep her friends, but that had never worked out well. Just look at what happened in Sunnydale. She had gone and killed people, and they had ultimately rejected her. It was that simple, and now, here she was, in the middle of no where. Everything was black, and she could feel it tightening around her. She could feel it trying to reach the own blackness inside of her, and she couldn't let it, no matter what happened, she couldn't let it.

Willow shot up out of bed, looking around panicked. She looked over at the clock, and it read 9:56. Willow got up and calculated that in Sunnydale it would be around 3:56 in the morning (not sure, just making up the time difference, you need to know the time! Remember the time, no matter what you do in this Prologue!). She was just keeping tabs on what it would be like back home, if she was there. She was awfully homesick. She walked over to Samantha and Montague and looked at them. She needed to know whether they were telling her the truth or not, and she had no idea how to find out. She couldn't try any more spells, they were just too dangerous. Frustrated, she sat on her bed and looked at the sleeping figures of Giles and Cassia.

Faith leapt up off the ground from under her blankets, instantly in a fighting stance. It took her a while to realise where she was. She was in Anne's shelter for the homeless kids. Events from that night started making their way back into her memory. She had gone to the docks for some slaying, and then chased the kid, or whatever he was, Connor up into the city where she met Gun and the girl, where they told her that Angel was missing. She looked at the clock and it said 3:57.

"Great," Faith said under her breath, after remembering the whole reason she wasn't in prison in the first place. Angel was missing, which meant there was no one to help her with her little problem of the Watchers' Council trying to kill her, which she hadn't seen any proof of yet.

"Do you always look to pummel someone when you get out of bed?" she heard. She turned and looked around to see a short man dressed in a long jacket. He had a thick 'mobster' type accent.

"Just when there's short little men in the room while I'm sleeping," Faith replied. "You're too old to be in here for the shelter. And by the way you're dressed, you're too rich too… who are you?" Faith demanded, raising her fists.

"Don't worry sweetie, I'm not here to hurt you," he said.

"Really, I don't believe that," Faith said. She knew that this man might be from the Watchers Council, he kind of looked like it.

"What do you want?" Faith demanded. She knew that she was getting on edge and that she was going to pummel this guy if he didn't give straight answers. Strangely enough, a little voice entered her head and told her that that wasn't the way to go. That she shouldn't do that, that it was 'wrong'. She eased her stance a bit, but not too much. There was something off about this character, and she didn't know what.

"I was looking for you actually," he said. "Anyway, you can't hurt me," he added.

"Oh, and why's that?" Faith responds arrogantly. "Is it because I'm a girl," She said sarcastically. She knew that this figure in front of her probably knew who she was.

"Go ahead, take a swing," the figure said. Faith couldn't believe her luck. She swung at the figure, and her fist passed straight through it. Faith and the man stood off for a couple of moments.

"What are you, a ghost or something?" Faith asked. The shorter man walked up to her and looked into her eyes.

"The name's Whistler. I'm your guide," Whistler said.

"Hey? You're going to have to explain this to me, fast. I want some sleep," Faith said. "And I'll be grumpy in the morning if I don't get sleep."

"What? Grumpier?" Whistler replied. He just got a glare from Faith. "Okay, okay. I was sent by a higher power to be your guide… help you out and all."

"Why should I believe you?" Faith interrogated.

"I'm here to make sure you don't get gutted kid. There are all sorts of big nasties out to get you now, plus the Watchers' Council… I'd think you'd get all the help you can get kiddo," Whistler replied. Faith just looked at him, still not buying it. She finally gave in.

"Okay, fine, whatever. Just let me get back to sleep," she said.

"Right kid. Just remember, I'm here to help. Just give me a call when you need me," he said while walking into the darkest part of the room. Faith just looked at him, but then there was no movement. He'd disappeared. Faith just collapsed back onto the blankets she'd been under, not bothering to put them back over her.

Buffy had awoke from her dream a couple of hours ago and was now in the kitchen with a warm cup of coffee in her hand. The dream had shaken her up, a lot. She knew that it was a Slayer dream because she could remember most of the details, which usually happened with dreams that held a high significance. She had also written it out in a dream journal after she had woken up, making sure she wouldn't distort the details. She didn't know what it meant. Usually there was an underlying message in the dream, something that wasn't clear, and she couldn't figure out what it was. It was times like these that she missed Giles and his knowledge and interpretation skills.

She also wanted to know more about what she had seen earlier that night, the three tall hooded figures which had scared her more than she had ever thought she would be scared. They were extremely powerful and skilled with weapons, and Buffy knew who would come out on top in a fight between her and them. Sighing, Buffy put the coffee down and went back up to bed, knowing that staying awake and trying to go through things in her mind wouldn't get her very far.

Rhon was inside a large crypt, helping six others of his kind guard something within from the Slayer. They weren't told what it was, only that they had to guard it, and never to try and open the sarcophagus that was inside, or they'd all be killed. He knew that there was a small chance of the Slayer coming down to the crypt, but they were ordered to guard it none the less. He was proud, he was a part of the bigger plan, or so it told them.

Before any of them knew what was happening, the door to the crypt flew off its hinges towards the group of vampires. Three crossbow bolts came through the doorway before the dust could settle and hit the hearts of three vampires, all of them turning to dust. Rhon ran and put his back to the wall, beside the doorway. He saw one of the others do the same on the other side of the doorway. The third remaining vampire turned to dust from something Rhon didn't see. They both stood there, guarding the doorway against whatever was going to come in. Rhon knew that the Slayer had finally come, and he knew that his short un-life was probably going to be over, but he was going to take down as many of the Slayer's cohorts as possible.

They waited, but nothing came through the passage where the door once was. Rhon could see that the other remaining vampire was getting restless. He knew that that was the plan of whatever was outside, lure them out. Before Rhon could even blink, a large dark figure came into the crypt with a short sword extended, cutting off the other vampire's head. Rhon saw it coming, and ducked out of the way and punched where this thing's mid section would be, but he didn't hit anything. Before he knew what was happening, a blade was sticking out through his chest. One of the things had stabbed him through the back when he had crouched down. He saw the other sword coming, but didn't have enough time to duck out of the way as it sliced through his neck, turning him to dust.