Title: In Statu Pupillari
Author: Frawley
Date: 7th February 2002

Category: Vignette
Spoilers: None

Summary: Vampire. Slayer. Graveyard. Just trying something a little different. Actually, having read the summary, it doesn't sound all that different, does it?

Comments: I wanted to try a different perspective, and a disjointed style of writing. Just a brief attempt at such, more for my benefit than anything else. I'm sure it's been done before, and it's probably not very good. For any interested, "In Statu Pupillari" means to be in a state of learning, or thereabouts. Used frequently when referring to undergraduate students, for example.

Disclaimer: Joss owns most of it, I lay claim to the scraps. FOX can sod off.


IN STATU PUPILLARI - by Frawley


Nothing.

Above, to the side. Darkness. Below, soft, thin material. Fit loose over wood. Too stiff. Too stiff to move yet. Arms, legs. Barely connected. Numb. Like atrophy. No light still. Eyes not working. Dry. All there was... scent. Smell. Musty. And an underlying odor. Rank.

Above all else - hunger. Intense. Mind-shattering. Exquisite. Hunger, desire. Desire, hunger. One and the same. All thought was of it.

No air. No breath, either. None needed.

Finally - vision. Eyes adjusting. Above - more fabric. White, decorative. Made from love.

There is no love.

Rip and shred and tear. Then wood, like below.

Wood to be broken.

Blow after blow until knuckles are bloodied. Break through.

Surge up, then. Dig. One arm then the next. Claw. Through dirt. Dampness. Grass and a few leaves, brown and decayed. Things... some come inside. Through the mouth. Blood. Life. Not enough... so little. The hunger is far from sated.

Above, now. Memories returning... life, death. And newfound power. Ability. To hunt, to kill. To feed. And here, in wait, a gift. A girl. Blonde girl, on which to feed.

~~~

Words returned next. Speech. Memories as well. Hazy at first, but the memories would clear, some already had. In the life before... the name wasn't there, yet. Other things were. Trade. A carpenter, a good one. Family. There were children and grandchildren. What would they think of their beloved Popsy now?

Back to the girl.

"Hello precious. Would you like to see a trick? I'm a conjuror, you know."

Keep her talking. Little blonde girl. Rife with warmth and life and blood. Which were all the same, of course. Power began to surge, The demon took control them. Shift. Weapons bared. Vision narrowed to the point that nearly all that could be seen was the prey. Other senses heightened, allowing the security for eyes to focus solely on the girl.

Then, to embrace the moment...

~~~

"Would you like to see a trick? I'm a conjuror, you know."

And here, yet another lesson in the undead. When the newly risen vampire addressed her for the first time, Buffy Summers learnt something she could have done without. The old ones... the elderly... were far worse. They put off an air of false innocence that was deeply disturbing. Because children, young children, still saw old people in a way most of society no longer did. As, well, old people. To be respected. And, in the mind of many a child, to be the source of stories and candies and games and whatnot.

In here years as the Slayer she had only seen a few. Maybe vamps saw them as weak and thus rarely took anyone beyond their prime as a childe. Maybe they found the sight of them just as disturbing. Perhaps for a different reason - an immortal trapped in a frail, elderly body would likely remind many a soulless fiend that even they had weakness; that many would have their immortality revoked.

By her.

This night, another newly risen vampire learnt that lesson.

Learnt just what the Slayer was.