Title The Sunnydale Ripper
Disclaimer – The usual, I own no one and nothing associated with BTVS, or ATS, which belong to Whedon, UPN, FOX, etc. I accept no remuneration for the fun I have with them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander was early. Something he'd sworn never to be, because that meant being on site with foreknowledge and not being able to do anything about it. Which really sucked, because his years with the Slayer had really reinforced his desire to be all protective and keep people alive if he could. Except Albert had drummed into him the importance of people dying when they were supposed to die, and when he was sent to collect that was all he was supposed to do, and if he tried to interfere there would be two deaths instead of one and he wouldn't be going to any of the happy places. Most definitely not to Heaven. Sometimes life sucked.
Like now when he recognized the girl he'd been sent to collect. Sarah Livens, one of Dawn's circle of close friends. He really wanted to break rules. Instead he just sat, watched and waited.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sarah Livens dragged on her cigarette and watched the word go by. School was out, it was too early for an appearance at the Bronze, and that wimp Dawn was not around. Really, that girl was paranoid, always warning her friends about going out at night. What a wuss, and it wasn't night yet anyway. Okay she was in an alley, but she was standing right next to a busy street. She dropped the cigarette, stubbed it out, and released the smoke through her nostrils.
What could possibly happen to her.
The answer came in the form of a black gloved hand that clamped itself over hoer mouth and hauled her back. Not far, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of a white scarf, just before she felt a sharp slashing across her throat. Then she felt nothing, as the bloodied knife was withdrawn from her neck, lowered and plunged in just beneath her rib cage before tearing down. It was over in a matter of seconds, her body falling even as life fled.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander stepped out of the shadows as Sarah's soul began to emerge from the physical shell it had once been attached to. He had watched the whole thing, from start to finish, hoping to impress the description of that assailant in his memory. Except that the assailant had been covered in black, except for that white scarf, and very little of the man was showing. Just enough to give the impression of white skin.
Disclaimer – The usual, I own no one and nothing associated with BTVS, or ATS, which belong to Whedon, UPN, FOX, etc. I accept no remuneration for the fun I have with them.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander was early. Something he'd sworn never to be, because that meant being on site with foreknowledge and not being able to do anything about it. Which really sucked, because his years with the Slayer had really reinforced his desire to be all protective and keep people alive if he could. Except Albert had drummed into him the importance of people dying when they were supposed to die, and when he was sent to collect that was all he was supposed to do, and if he tried to interfere there would be two deaths instead of one and he wouldn't be going to any of the happy places. Most definitely not to Heaven. Sometimes life sucked.
Like now when he recognized the girl he'd been sent to collect. Sarah Livens, one of Dawn's circle of close friends. He really wanted to break rules. Instead he just sat, watched and waited.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Sarah Livens dragged on her cigarette and watched the word go by. School was out, it was too early for an appearance at the Bronze, and that wimp Dawn was not around. Really, that girl was paranoid, always warning her friends about going out at night. What a wuss, and it wasn't night yet anyway. Okay she was in an alley, but she was standing right next to a busy street. She dropped the cigarette, stubbed it out, and released the smoke through her nostrils.
What could possibly happen to her.
The answer came in the form of a black gloved hand that clamped itself over hoer mouth and hauled her back. Not far, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of a white scarf, just before she felt a sharp slashing across her throat. Then she felt nothing, as the bloodied knife was withdrawn from her neck, lowered and plunged in just beneath her rib cage before tearing down. It was over in a matter of seconds, her body falling even as life fled.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander stepped out of the shadows as Sarah's soul began to emerge from the physical shell it had once been attached to. He had watched the whole thing, from start to finish, hoping to impress the description of that assailant in his memory. Except that the assailant had been covered in black, except for that white scarf, and very little of the man was showing. Just enough to give the impression of white skin.