Chapter two - Resurrection

The tapping was coming from the corner of the empty room – where Dawn was sat. Blood was rushing up and down Xander's thumbs as he pressed them against the wall; the tapping was making him insane.

"WILL YOU STOP – that!?" He began with a shout but refrained to a gentle instruction as he saw the reaction from Dawn's face. Straight after his short outburst, Buffy swiftly walked into the room, lifted up a magazine and strode out the door again, causing her to retrace her steps due to being surprised at the strange scene in the living room. Sitting upright on the grumpy sofa was a shocked but deeply concerned brunette: she was staring across the room at the other strange figure.

"Xander? Are you ok?" Buffy asked with a reassuring smile, Buffy has been quite warm hearted lately – everyone had noticed.

"Sorry, I was just asking Dawn something: I think I may have shocked her a bit" replied Xander already returning back to his normal self. Each morning since the whole save-the-world-and-end-up-at-Giles-house-in-England thing, everyone seems to have started to actually be happy for a change: apart from Xander.

As bubbles rose from the deep iron casket, the dark figures were pacing up and down waiting for the witch too arrive. Master of resurrection and the transformation of demon too person, she was amongst the most powerful throughout the entire world. She was best known for her perfect resurrection spells which: unless interrupted always went perfectly, correctly taking a free soul and replacing it back to its original body.

"All arrangements are going to plan, yeah?" asked the witch whilst her followers finally came into the light and revealed their torn up faces. The followers had been sent to the witch in order for her to 'fix' them. They'd been torn out of hell whilst being the subjects of a faulty spell performed by witches of clearly no experience. Resurrection spells aren't easy; they have to be perfected and practised before performed, The Followers were the victim's of unpractised resurrections and now are left to serve the witch so she will one day resurrect them properly.

"Answer me then!" she ordered with a glare that was too crude to be anywhere close to human, each Follower shrank back into the shadows giving a clear suggestion towards the only Follower left in the light. His face (if you can call it that) was facing the dirt brown cobbles on the floor, his hands were clanging together like a pair of symbols crashing a knew tone of fear.

"You must be new, no one else has ever had the bravery to actually volunteer. You can have a one way ticket to resurrection for that my brave little Follower" implied the cruel, dark mistress of evil. Struggling to know what to do, The Follower crept towards her holding the plans to her daring arrangement. The witch hobbled towards him and immediately pulled the skin white paper away from him and began to shred every little scrap. In the small amount of two seconds: the Follower was no where too be seen.

"Buffy, are you up?" shouted Dawn from down the stairs. Scrunched up clothes were hung over the wooden banister, the sound of rushing water was diffusing from the cream door of the shower. "BUFFY!" screamed Dawn. She stomped round the house looking for her older sister: fury all over her face. Calmly walking down the stairs, Buffy entered the kitchen and attacked the fridge. Giles has been having a lot of difficulty shopping for everyone lately, they were only just getting used to England food.

"You never seize too amaze me, never keeping your promises, always too tied up in your own little world" explained Dawn. She was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen looking up and down at the teal towel wrapped around Buffy's slim figure, she'd already piled a ton of food from the fridge.

"I'm sorry Dawn, I got up late – that's all it is" Buffy explained to Dawn with a hope she'd forgive her. Slowly dripping over the side of the sink, a blob of chocolate sauce from last night was creating a small puddle on the floor. Buffy and Dawn were staring at the puddle, it seemed more interesting than the conversation between them.

"I'm sorry, we'll go shopping another day I promise"

"When? You'll just forget again like always" Dawn argued.

"I won't, maybe there's still time to go now?"

"Stop that! There's no time and YES you will forget!"

Just as Buffy was about to argue back, someone gave a little cough, enough to make them stop arguing and pay attention to the now awake red haired witch standing in their door way – it was Willow. Previously, Willow's gay friend Kennedy had been forced to leave Sunnydale (because of the fact that it was swallowed up by the hellmouth) and travel back home, she promised Willow she'd visit immediately – she hasn't even been in touch. Fair, red hair was flowing by her broad shoulders; she'd had it cut quite recently.

"Are you two arguing again? You really shouldn't you know, it's not right – your family after all" she stated. Buffy pulled the towel closer around her shoulders; she looked upset and very ashamed. With a childish grunt Dawn left the kitchen muttering something under her breath.

"You don't look very well Buffy, are you feeling alright?" asked Willow.

Buffy looked straight at the floor, her damp wavy blonde hair flopped over her shoulders. "You know, I don't think I am"