She raised her face up to greet the rays of the rising sun. The gentle light basked her in a warm, glowing light.
Warm, caressing, brilliant. Effulgent.
She closed her eyes for a moment, wanting nothing more than to savor the gentle rays upon her face. She deserved that, didn't she? After all, the world was safe, saved yet again. For justice, and for the safety of puppies and Christmas, right?
She swallowed. Don't think. Apocalypse averted. The world was still here, wasn't it? And that's all that mattered. Her friends were safe, if a little worse for wear. Safe and alive, that was the important thing. The world would go on another day, like nothing had ever happened, like there hadn't been battles and scars and sacrifices. Birds singing, squirrels making lots of rotten little squirrels.
That was her duty, to save the world. Her job, her dance. And the thing about the dance is, you never get to stop.
Oh, but wasn't her turn finished, over with? Her dance was complete. She deserved peace, didn't she? Deserved to rest. It was someone else's turn. Why should she even try anymore? Because you do that. You're the goody-good guys. You're the bloody freaking cavalry.
She wasn't feeling very heroic. Just wanted to rest. Pass the buck. She wanted to rest. She wanted it. That final gasp. That look of peace.
The sun had broken the horizon now. She'd forgotten the sunblock, forgotten what the rays could do in this Southern California weather. Her skin was beginning to peel. I can't wait to see if I freckle.
She was too tired. Didn't want to think, yet the thoughts and images would float up anyway. The memories. She didn't want them. Not here, not now. Not ever.
All she'd ever wanted was to be normal. Live a normal life, have normal responsibilities. Work at a normal job. A normal job for a normal girl? Good way to drive yourself crazy, that is. Go out on normal dates. A date? You are completely off your bird! I mean…do you want it to be?
The sun was literally peeling the skin from her nose now. The sunburn was getting to be painful; there was no telling how long she'd sat here on Kingman's Bluff. But she liked the pain. Relished in it. Imagined that this was what it felt like for her victims, her prey. Wished to relate. The fatal ray of sunlight. She liked it. Liked watching them suffer, burn. Deep down inside, she'd been jealous. Part of you is desperate to know: What's it like? Where does it lead you? And now you see, that's the secret.
She'd come back wrong. Oh, don't listen to the Wiccans' soothing platitudes or reassurances. She'd come back wrong. Because this, with you, is wrong. I know it.
You think I like having you in here? Destroying everything that was me, until all that's left is you, in a dead shell.
How true. How absolutely right. She shook her head wryly, bitterly. How very, very true.
I know you'll never love me. I know that I'm a monster. But you treat me like a man.
And how stupid at the same time. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But she'd never have admitted the truth. Never ever. Oh, no. Buffy was a good girl. Buffy was too good, too good for anyone. Above all. The ice queen.
Well, now the ice queen needed to be dethroned.
She rose, shook the dirt and dead grass from her coat. The weather was too warm to be wearing a coat, especially such a heavy long one. She'd have to remember to leave it in the house before she went out again.
She stared up at the bright orb above her, let its light blind her. It felt good, felt right. She stared up at it until all she could see was a great mass of burning light. Until she could see nothing more than a blur. And then she said goodbye.
It was a beautiful day. Warm and sunny, but not too hot or stifling. There was a gentle summer breeze in the air. Or was that late spring? A gorgeous day in late spring. You don't belong here.
That's not your world. You belong in the shadows... with me.
She smiled.
"I'm coming."
***
The local news report.
"The body of a young woman was found last night just outside Restfield cemetery. She appears to have been brutally attacked, with several broken ribs as well as unusual cuts and contusions about the throat of her broken neck. Investigators have identified her body as that of a 22-year old former Sunnydale High School counselor. Police are still investigating possible suspects for the murder, but so far no leads have turned up—"
It was just an ordinary incident in the town of Sunnydale. Unexplained deaths were run-of-the-mill. Perfectly normal, nothing to put a dampener on for. All in all, it was a pretty good day, perfectly magnificent outside. The weather had been wonderful for the past week now. Brilliant blue skies, bright, gentle sun. Just one good day.
One...good...day.