Willow sat in front of the computer, furiously pounding the keyboard as she surfed the Internet and her favorite sites to try and calm herself down. Unfortunately, she was just pounding the keys harder and harder until she was sure the next time she hit that "e" key it was gonna fly off the keyboard. All her pent up rage at the powers at be were being taken out on this poor old Macintosh. It didn't deserve her pain.
Finally she just let her hands rest on the keyboard, although they kept twitching frantically whenever the word "Xander" floated through her mind. Next to her, Xander put a comforting arm around his girlfriend.
"You know, Buffy's not here today either," he said soothingly. "Maybe they both felt like they needed days off, far away from everything, you know?"
"You mean they've run away?" Willow shrieked, almost jumping out of her chair. Oz set to calming Willow down, explaining what he really meant.
"Yes!" came the sudden muffled cry from the back of the library. Willow and Oz turned around to see Giles come running out of the stacks, a thin little book that said "Journal" in faded gold lettering on the cover. Giles came up behind the two lovebirds and pointed to a passage on one of the open pages that were hidden from Oz and Willow's view. "This is it!" Giles said excitedly. "Two matching cases! I can't believe I found them, and in Reginald's Watcher diary of all places!" He set the book down, and suddenly acquired a serious expression. "Of course, though, this is a serious matter."
The two Slayerette's and the Watcher leaned in to read the passage, which went somewhat like this:
**
Dear Journal,
I am dreadfully sorry that I must report dire news today. It has nothing to do with my Slayer-in-training, Elisabeyta. No, she is doing quite well in her studies and training, and has done an exceptional job in keeping the vampire activity in our small town well under control. If ever called, she will indeed make a great Slayer.
No, what I am writing about it a sad event. As you may notice, this page is dated a week after my last entry. It is because of what has happened-with Jacob and Seth. Time after time I was warned to never let my training Slayer to have any friends, family, or acquaintances, but I am always weak to Elisabeyta's whims-she is so gifted and outgoing, and she deserves to live somewhat of a normal life, especially since she is not on full duty yet. But this was a mistake, a mistake that could have been avoided, and now the results are quite dreadful.
As written in my journal entries of the past month, Elisabeyta has angered one vampire in particular, one who goes by the name of Greenwalt, though I doubt that it is truly. Lately, he has stepped up his advances on her, but my Elisabeyta is much to clever to be caught off-guard. Alas, her two friends, Jacob and Seth, were.
Elisabeyta had caught quite a fever from patrolling he night before in a chilling wind, so she was spending the night with her mother, who dutifully took care of her as only Mrs. Goody could. Jacob, Seth, and young, sweet Abigail were taking over Elisabeyta's duty, and Greenwalt, to put quite bluntly, drained the boys' of blood until they were at the point of death. Luckily, Abigail and I were able to take them home and miraculously, the bite marks disappeared, the boys healed in less then three days, and all was well.
All * was * well. Nothing is ever well when dealing with the occult. Jacob and Seth began to exhibited oddities, such as strength they had never possessed before, the inability to taste food, the fading and then overall disappearance of their reflection, and several other symptoms, one which was a horrible sunburn from the sun that disappeared completely when the sun set and twilight settled in. All of us-Elisabeyta, Abigail, I, and the boys themselves-knew that Jacob and Seth would soon be vampires.
When the sunlight bothered them too much and they were fully able to transform their faces into that horrible visage, we chained them into the basement below us and waited for the sun to set, in case they were demons, for we did not know if they would have souls or not, since throughout the ordeal the boys were still very much the same, except for an increase in intelligence, which I would recommend to many of the village people around here.
As I was saying, we chained them up and then waited till twilight. Then Elisabeyta and I crept downstairs, and discovered the two boys completely passed out on the floor. For a moment there we thought they were dead, but Jacob woke up, and soon Seth followed. Neither exhibited signs of the demon taking over their body, so we led them upstairs.
What a horrible mistake. Jacob suddenly turned on us and began to attack Elisabeyta, showing us that indeed a demon had taken over him. Seth, who seemed to have kept his demon soul, tried to pull Jacob off of her, but Seth was always the week one. The three of us watched in horror as Jacob turned around and neatly ripped of Seth's head, turning him into dust. Abigail keeps complaining of nightmares, and I am sure that hers shall never go away. I know that mine never shall.
Soon after that, Elisabeyta killed Jacob, knowing that it was no longer her childhood friend, but a demon who had killed the true Jacob. She has not talked about this incident since it has happened, but I know that this will forever leave an imprint on her life. And I know that she will never, ever befriend anyone outside of Abigail and I.
The most important thing that I want to stress to Watchers of the future is one thing: do not let the Slayer have a life outside his/her sacred duty. The results are indeed horrible and forever leave you broken and different. I repeat once again: * do not let the Slayer have any other kind of life other than the one she was born for *. It is a downward spiral from there.
Signed, Reginald.
**
Underneath the Watcher's signature was some more text, written in the neat script that ladies of the olden days used to write in:
**
Since Reginald is long gone, and if I have my way, I shall be gone too, I feel that I must comment on this subject for future slayers. Yes, you will lose each and every friend you make. And the ones who are lucky enough to survive, like Abigail, you constantly watch day and night, afraid that you will lose them because of your incompetence. Please, so not put yourself through the misery I have experienced first-hand. Live your life as it was intended, so it does not have to end as mine did-at my own hand.
May Abigail Stevenson and Reginald Thorpe rest in peace, as may the lost souls of Jacob and Seth Wilder, whom I shall miss long into my afterlife: Elisabeyta Susan Goody
**
All three of the persons in the library fell into respectful silence as they finished the journal entry. Then Willow's voice quavered, and then a sound managed to escape from her mouth.
"We need to find Xander right away."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"The world is a vampire, sent to drain Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames And what do I get for my pain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game."
Xander slapped the car radio for the fiftieth time, glaring at the stupid machine that was putting him through the ringer. "Oh sure, go ahead," he said sarcastically to the piece of machinery, "make me more depressed." Xander muttered something unintelligible and then gripped the steering wheel to his mother's car tighter, causing the Jaguar to swerve nastily on the deserted back road. He straightened it again and then tried once again to shut the damn radio * off *.
The knob was completely broken, and the Smashing Pumpkin's song poured out of the speakers:
"Even though I know - I suppose I'll show All my cool and cold-like old job Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage (2x) Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage
Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal But can you fake it, for just one more show? And what do you want, I want to change And what have you got when you feel the same."
The chorus played once again, and Xander stopped the car suddenly. He banged his head against the steering wheel about five times. "I'm a wreck," he said, shutting his eyes and sighing. "I deserve to be a wreck."
The song continued on the radio station, and Xander tried to tune out, although the song was so damn catchy and so true in describing him at that very moment.
"Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved Despite all my rage I'm still just a rat in a cage And I still believe that I cannot be saved."
Then the song ended, Xander thanked God loudly, and then revved the engine up again. He did a dangerous U-turn that should not be done in a little back road, and headed back towards the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign he had passed awhile ago.
A commercial was playing on the station, and Xander sighed in relief. "Now all I need them to play is 'The Unforgiven' and it's my best day ever."
When the familiar strands of music started up, Xander said several naughty words and hit the radio so much that it finally broke, although he received a nasty swollen hand in exchange for complete silence.
The road was bumpy and curving, and there were potholes as far as the eye could see. And he had driven quite a ways from Sunnydale, and would have to stop at a rest area to get more gas. Xander didn't mind that though: he wanted to delay his return as much as possible.
"You are a * wreck *," Xander repeated to himself, squinting in the bright sunlight as he approached the familiar sign that that a rest area was up ahead. The sunlight was beginning to hurt his eyes more than usually, and he felt so damn HOT that he had ripped off his shirt a while back. "And you're a vampire."