There was a grey fog hanging in the air shrouding the last vestiges of night from giving way to day. The wind whispered through the trees, branches stark and naked in the October cold. The streets were empty and the town was completely abandoned except for those few that could stand to do something against the rising tide of danger. There weren't many and she'd already buried no few of her friends in the fight. Everywhere she looked there was cold, emptiness, death.
She turned up main street, her sword strapped behind her. There was blood dripping from it down to the pavement, stuff she probably should have cleaned from the blade. Giles would have scolded her for such things but, alas, he was not there to wag his finger. That was partially why she was still here and partially why she'd lost so much of her hope. She couldn't leave him alone in the cold ground without anyone. The part of her mind that knew it wasn't him wasn't listening to the part of her heart that couldn't let go. She'd loved him, God, she had! It was too late as he lay there in her arms to say so but she did, whispering it over and over pleading with him to stay with her, just breathe, live, and not to leave her alone this way.
He hadn't obeyed and here she was left bereft by loss. She didn't even feel like a whole person anymore.
A demon appeared up ahead and scented the blood, turning it's head to follow the smell and growling when it spotted her. A grin appeared tugging her lips up just slightly. This was all that remained, the fight, until she joined him again. That day was probably approaching faster than she knew and yet she couldn't bring herself to care. Take out as many bastards with her as she could before then. As it charged she felt the sun break through the fog illuminating her from behind as she slid the sword from her sheath.
Faith sighed. "This is for you, Rupert."