Willow woke up with a sudden need for vengence. Her blood was boiling. Everything in her, every cells of her being was screaming at her to get payback. Revenge was her absolution. Her mind was in pain, her heart needed retribution. There was only one solution : kill the three men that had murdered her a year ago. Poetic justice.
The redhead jumped off the tomb and grimaced as her cold feet hit the floor. "First stop, shopping."
"Do you actually have money?"
She jumped. She turned around and saw Eric looking at her, his eyes opened. "I thought you were still sleeping. And to answer your question, yes. I have money stashed in a secret bank account, not under my real name. Never thought I would use it one day. It was money to be use in case of emergency." She looked down at herself and frowned at her clothes. They were more like tatters.
Eric smiled. "You'll look smashing in black. And I must say that black looks pretty good on dead people."
Willow laughed, then her face became serious. "I'll also need makeup. Black and white makeup," she added.
He looked at her, suddenly understanding why : his own face. "Sure Willow. Lets go."
* * *
"Goodbye fuzzy sweaters, hello to the leather. You know, I actually look a lot like my vampire self from that other universe," she said admiring herself in a miror.
Eric frowned. "Vampire?"
"Yeah. All the monsters your mother told you about actually really crawls at night. Sunnydale is a mystical point called the Hellmouth. Basically, it's the favorite vacation spot for demons."
Willow paid for the clothes then went back in the mall. People gave them weird looks when they saw Eric's face, but men drooled when they saw the redhead. She was wearing black leather pants with a burgundy medieval blouse. A strange light entered her eyes when they came in front of a magic store. A range of athame were displayed in the window. She quickly went in and paid for a beautiful one, all silver with snakes around the handle. When she exited the store, she smile at her protector. "It could be useful."
They walked on main street in silence, neither one knowing what to say. It was Eric that finally broke the silence. "Willow, we have to talk about something."
"Yes, what?"
"I have a weird feeling. I was alone when I woke up from the dead. You have me and you don't have a crow to guide you, except for your memories yesterday. I don't think it is a coincidence. I'm starting to think we're are both here to stay."
Willow looked up, startled. "Oh!" The redhead cocked her head when a illuminated sign caught her attention. "You know, I've always wanted a tatoo. Come on!"
One hour later, a dead witch got out, one black inked wicca symbol for death permanently drawn on each of her wrists. "It hurted like hell," she hissed.
Eric laughed. "You're the one who wanted them."
She growled and pulled him faster to the cript where they stayed. "You know, if we're here to stay, we're going to have to found a new place to stay." They went in the cript and Willow closed the door behind them. "Now, do my face please." She sat crosslegged on the tomb and he sat close to her, getting out the makeup.
Starting with the white makeup, he talked to her. "For now on, you're a crow, a dead one coming to right wrongs done in life. You'll wear this forever, a mask of death, symbol of you revenge. Live again Willow."
She closed her eyes as she let his soothing fingers play on her face and his promises of vengence calm her soul. When he was finished, a new face met her in the miror. "Wow!" She examined herself. "New body for a new life. You know, I think I could find a spell for us to switch for this face to one without makeup."
"Let me guess," Eric said. "Witches exists."
Willow laughed and nodded. Her smile fadded as the feelings from when she woke up came back. "I want... no. I *need* to kill one of them. Now!" She jumped on her feeth and grabbed the athame, puting it in its sheat and attaching it to her waist like a belt, hanging low on her hips. She cast a look at Eric. "Take a look around. I want to find the first one alone."
He nodded, understanding. "Go have your fun, Willow. Come to me when you are ready."
* * *
She walked to the beat, music pouring from the club in front of her. She had been there often before... when she was still alive. It was the hot spot for all teenagers in Sunnydale.
And the frat boy had just gone in.
Willow grinned and followed him inside. [Too easy!] She saw him sitting at the bar, getting a beer. He was alone and there was no sign of the other rapists with him. [Good.] She scratched her face. [This makeup is itching!] Sighing, she walked to the bathroom, hoping to find an empty space for her to do her spell without witnesses. She liked the makeup, but right now, it was more trouble than anything else. She stopped in front of the miror and passed her hand in front of her face. She smiled as her natural face appeared. "Lets do our work, Will," she told herself. She stepped out of the bathroom.
Willow was making her way to the bar when suddenly, she saw a flash of blond hair on the dancefloor. She narrowed her eyes, trying to dintinguish the form from the others. She gasped when she realized it was Buffy. Her best female friend was there, dancing in the middle of the room. No Riley.
Looking at the table, she noticed the Scooby Gang laughing. Her friends were talking, drinking, having fun together. Xander was still with Anya, Dawn and Tara talked together.
But she couldn't be with them anymore. She was dead. Or rather, a living dead.
Her eyes were watery. She remembered Anya's comments on sex and Xander's way to reprimand her. His silly jokes he always made. What she remembered the most about him was is attempt at magic, when he had set fire in one of Giles' books.
Buffy was still as beautiful as she remembered. Her hair were longer and she seemed a bit more stronger than before. Her little sister was still as cute, looking innocent. Her aura was pure.
And then there was Tara. The beautiful blond witch. Her sister in many ways. She was a witch, she liked life, she loved inconditionally. She once had thought Tara and her would end up together one day. Now, she would never know.
Three men was all it took to change her destiny.
Tears spilled down her face. Willow didn't bother to dry them off. Taking off, she ran out of the Bronze, not caring how she looked for people on the street. She didn't know where she was running. She was only burying her emotional pain in physical one.
Suddenly, she smacked into someone. She looked up to see Eric's worried face. "Willow, what's wrong?" he asked.
"I saw them," she sobbed in his shirt. "I saw them all. They were there, at the Bronze. They were having fun. How could life be so cruel as to take me away from them?" Her knees gave out under her and Eric picked her up.
He walked to the nearest park and sat her on a bench. He crouched before her, looking into her eyes. "Look at me, Willow. You aren't with them anymore. But think about it. Maybe it was your destiny to come back as a living dead, maybe you were destined to live forever and protect those you love."
The redhead sniffed and calmed down. In a way, he was right. She couldn't look pass this gift. And it was a gift! To come back from the dead, get payback, then help friends. She could definitly get used to this.
Eric smiled when he saw her aknowledged what he had said. "So, what do you say we go back to the Bronze and get ourselves a frat boy?"
She grinned evilly. "Lets go kill someone."
The redhead jumped off the tomb and grimaced as her cold feet hit the floor. "First stop, shopping."
"Do you actually have money?"
She jumped. She turned around and saw Eric looking at her, his eyes opened. "I thought you were still sleeping. And to answer your question, yes. I have money stashed in a secret bank account, not under my real name. Never thought I would use it one day. It was money to be use in case of emergency." She looked down at herself and frowned at her clothes. They were more like tatters.
Eric smiled. "You'll look smashing in black. And I must say that black looks pretty good on dead people."
Willow laughed, then her face became serious. "I'll also need makeup. Black and white makeup," she added.
He looked at her, suddenly understanding why : his own face. "Sure Willow. Lets go."
* * *
"Goodbye fuzzy sweaters, hello to the leather. You know, I actually look a lot like my vampire self from that other universe," she said admiring herself in a miror.
Eric frowned. "Vampire?"
"Yeah. All the monsters your mother told you about actually really crawls at night. Sunnydale is a mystical point called the Hellmouth. Basically, it's the favorite vacation spot for demons."
Willow paid for the clothes then went back in the mall. People gave them weird looks when they saw Eric's face, but men drooled when they saw the redhead. She was wearing black leather pants with a burgundy medieval blouse. A strange light entered her eyes when they came in front of a magic store. A range of athame were displayed in the window. She quickly went in and paid for a beautiful one, all silver with snakes around the handle. When she exited the store, she smile at her protector. "It could be useful."
They walked on main street in silence, neither one knowing what to say. It was Eric that finally broke the silence. "Willow, we have to talk about something."
"Yes, what?"
"I have a weird feeling. I was alone when I woke up from the dead. You have me and you don't have a crow to guide you, except for your memories yesterday. I don't think it is a coincidence. I'm starting to think we're are both here to stay."
Willow looked up, startled. "Oh!" The redhead cocked her head when a illuminated sign caught her attention. "You know, I've always wanted a tatoo. Come on!"
One hour later, a dead witch got out, one black inked wicca symbol for death permanently drawn on each of her wrists. "It hurted like hell," she hissed.
Eric laughed. "You're the one who wanted them."
She growled and pulled him faster to the cript where they stayed. "You know, if we're here to stay, we're going to have to found a new place to stay." They went in the cript and Willow closed the door behind them. "Now, do my face please." She sat crosslegged on the tomb and he sat close to her, getting out the makeup.
Starting with the white makeup, he talked to her. "For now on, you're a crow, a dead one coming to right wrongs done in life. You'll wear this forever, a mask of death, symbol of you revenge. Live again Willow."
She closed her eyes as she let his soothing fingers play on her face and his promises of vengence calm her soul. When he was finished, a new face met her in the miror. "Wow!" She examined herself. "New body for a new life. You know, I think I could find a spell for us to switch for this face to one without makeup."
"Let me guess," Eric said. "Witches exists."
Willow laughed and nodded. Her smile fadded as the feelings from when she woke up came back. "I want... no. I *need* to kill one of them. Now!" She jumped on her feeth and grabbed the athame, puting it in its sheat and attaching it to her waist like a belt, hanging low on her hips. She cast a look at Eric. "Take a look around. I want to find the first one alone."
He nodded, understanding. "Go have your fun, Willow. Come to me when you are ready."
* * *
She walked to the beat, music pouring from the club in front of her. She had been there often before... when she was still alive. It was the hot spot for all teenagers in Sunnydale.
And the frat boy had just gone in.
Willow grinned and followed him inside. [Too easy!] She saw him sitting at the bar, getting a beer. He was alone and there was no sign of the other rapists with him. [Good.] She scratched her face. [This makeup is itching!] Sighing, she walked to the bathroom, hoping to find an empty space for her to do her spell without witnesses. She liked the makeup, but right now, it was more trouble than anything else. She stopped in front of the miror and passed her hand in front of her face. She smiled as her natural face appeared. "Lets do our work, Will," she told herself. She stepped out of the bathroom.
Willow was making her way to the bar when suddenly, she saw a flash of blond hair on the dancefloor. She narrowed her eyes, trying to dintinguish the form from the others. She gasped when she realized it was Buffy. Her best female friend was there, dancing in the middle of the room. No Riley.
Looking at the table, she noticed the Scooby Gang laughing. Her friends were talking, drinking, having fun together. Xander was still with Anya, Dawn and Tara talked together.
But she couldn't be with them anymore. She was dead. Or rather, a living dead.
Her eyes were watery. She remembered Anya's comments on sex and Xander's way to reprimand her. His silly jokes he always made. What she remembered the most about him was is attempt at magic, when he had set fire in one of Giles' books.
Buffy was still as beautiful as she remembered. Her hair were longer and she seemed a bit more stronger than before. Her little sister was still as cute, looking innocent. Her aura was pure.
And then there was Tara. The beautiful blond witch. Her sister in many ways. She was a witch, she liked life, she loved inconditionally. She once had thought Tara and her would end up together one day. Now, she would never know.
Three men was all it took to change her destiny.
Tears spilled down her face. Willow didn't bother to dry them off. Taking off, she ran out of the Bronze, not caring how she looked for people on the street. She didn't know where she was running. She was only burying her emotional pain in physical one.
Suddenly, she smacked into someone. She looked up to see Eric's worried face. "Willow, what's wrong?" he asked.
"I saw them," she sobbed in his shirt. "I saw them all. They were there, at the Bronze. They were having fun. How could life be so cruel as to take me away from them?" Her knees gave out under her and Eric picked her up.
He walked to the nearest park and sat her on a bench. He crouched before her, looking into her eyes. "Look at me, Willow. You aren't with them anymore. But think about it. Maybe it was your destiny to come back as a living dead, maybe you were destined to live forever and protect those you love."
The redhead sniffed and calmed down. In a way, he was right. She couldn't look pass this gift. And it was a gift! To come back from the dead, get payback, then help friends. She could definitly get used to this.
Eric smiled when he saw her aknowledged what he had said. "So, what do you say we go back to the Bronze and get ourselves a frat boy?"
She grinned evilly. "Lets go kill someone."