Disclaimers apply.
HISTORY REPEATS ITSELF,
written by Whipper
First you are born.
And you learn how to crawl and then how to walk. You learn not to disrespect your mother or your father. You learn the Bible and you're afraid you'll end up in Hell when you die. You fear the Devil... but also God. In the eyes of a child, there's hardly any difference. You're never good enough and sometimes you do something bad. Something wrong. Your father takes a cane to your bony arse.
They teach you how to read and write. You're a bit slow but you like to write poetry. Your father doesn't know about that. If he did... you're afraid to finish that thought. You're afraid of a lots of things.
You fall in love with a pretty girl. But she's not for you. Too good for you.
You become a man. Almost 20 years old.
But you have yet never laid with a woman. You don't have a proper job or a family of your own. You never will either.
Because something happens.
You meet a beautiful lady one night. Her hair is black like the night, her skin as white as snow and her lips as red as blood. You steal those lines from a fairy tale but you're still proud. She and her Sire feeds on you and you die. And those who have stolen your life, your blood... they take you back and you wake up again.
You are reborn as a Vampire. An undead.
And you learn how to crawl in front of your Elders and you learn how hard it is to walk alone in the darkness. You learn how to get respect from those around you. You laugh at the Bible and the priests. You are the Devil and you have finally found out that there are no God. You don't fear Hell anymore.
Sometimes you make a mistake and your Elders make you pay... in blood.
They teach you have to hunt and how to kill. You still like to write poetry. But you don't tell your Sire. If she knew she'd rip out your heart out and leave it in the sun to become dust. But you're not really afraid of that. You're not really afraid of anything anymore.
You fall in love with your crazy, beautiful Mistress. But she's not for you. She's in love with an Angel. You're not good enough for her. But you still take her and makes her yours. This time around, nothing will stop you from taking what you want.
You've truly become a Vampire. And it suits you.
You sleep with the woman you love. You have a family, or at least a Coven, and a purpose. You make fledglings to obey all your whims. All your woman's whims. You're happy. Enjoying unlife.
Then, once again, something happens.
In fact, a lot of things happens.
The head of your little family leaves just to return almost a hundred years later. He takes away your woman, your crazy princess. You get her back, but things are never the same again. She ends up breaking your undead heart. But then again you always knew you weren't good enough for her.
But, more importantly, almost at the same time... something else happens. You fall in love. Again. For the third time, if you were to count both life and unlife.
And there's always something special about number three.
She's a Slayer, this one. A strong woman. Too strong for you. Too good, too pure. History repeats itself and you're not good enough for her. She tells you to your face but you don't get it. You give up everything for her. All you have and then some more. She doesn't even notice. She just kicks you in the head, tells you to get lost. You still don't get it. You were never this dense before.
Days pass, weeks, months... and you're still not good enough.
The ultimate sacrifice... and you have a soul again. The guilt and the regret you feel is almost more than you can bear. You've never felt pain like this. Never hurt so much inside. But you don't regret it. You think that maybe you'll be good enough now. Now that you've truly done everything in your power maybe everything will change.
You really should have know better.
In the end, you don't really have a choice. You're tired of not breathing, of not living... you're tired of it all. And most of all you're tired of trying. Trying and trying and never getting things right.
You don't write her a note. You don't even say goodbye to the few friends you have left.
As you lay down in the wet grass you don't think about Cecily or Dru. You don't even think about Buffy Summers. You think about your mother's soft hands stroking your hair away from your forehead.
Then, as it has every morning since as far back as anyone can remember, the sun rose.
THE END
written by Whipper
First you are born.
And you learn how to crawl and then how to walk. You learn not to disrespect your mother or your father. You learn the Bible and you're afraid you'll end up in Hell when you die. You fear the Devil... but also God. In the eyes of a child, there's hardly any difference. You're never good enough and sometimes you do something bad. Something wrong. Your father takes a cane to your bony arse.
They teach you how to read and write. You're a bit slow but you like to write poetry. Your father doesn't know about that. If he did... you're afraid to finish that thought. You're afraid of a lots of things.
You fall in love with a pretty girl. But she's not for you. Too good for you.
You become a man. Almost 20 years old.
But you have yet never laid with a woman. You don't have a proper job or a family of your own. You never will either.
Because something happens.
You meet a beautiful lady one night. Her hair is black like the night, her skin as white as snow and her lips as red as blood. You steal those lines from a fairy tale but you're still proud. She and her Sire feeds on you and you die. And those who have stolen your life, your blood... they take you back and you wake up again.
You are reborn as a Vampire. An undead.
And you learn how to crawl in front of your Elders and you learn how hard it is to walk alone in the darkness. You learn how to get respect from those around you. You laugh at the Bible and the priests. You are the Devil and you have finally found out that there are no God. You don't fear Hell anymore.
Sometimes you make a mistake and your Elders make you pay... in blood.
They teach you have to hunt and how to kill. You still like to write poetry. But you don't tell your Sire. If she knew she'd rip out your heart out and leave it in the sun to become dust. But you're not really afraid of that. You're not really afraid of anything anymore.
You fall in love with your crazy, beautiful Mistress. But she's not for you. She's in love with an Angel. You're not good enough for her. But you still take her and makes her yours. This time around, nothing will stop you from taking what you want.
You've truly become a Vampire. And it suits you.
You sleep with the woman you love. You have a family, or at least a Coven, and a purpose. You make fledglings to obey all your whims. All your woman's whims. You're happy. Enjoying unlife.
Then, once again, something happens.
In fact, a lot of things happens.
The head of your little family leaves just to return almost a hundred years later. He takes away your woman, your crazy princess. You get her back, but things are never the same again. She ends up breaking your undead heart. But then again you always knew you weren't good enough for her.
But, more importantly, almost at the same time... something else happens. You fall in love. Again. For the third time, if you were to count both life and unlife.
And there's always something special about number three.
She's a Slayer, this one. A strong woman. Too strong for you. Too good, too pure. History repeats itself and you're not good enough for her. She tells you to your face but you don't get it. You give up everything for her. All you have and then some more. She doesn't even notice. She just kicks you in the head, tells you to get lost. You still don't get it. You were never this dense before.
Days pass, weeks, months... and you're still not good enough.
The ultimate sacrifice... and you have a soul again. The guilt and the regret you feel is almost more than you can bear. You've never felt pain like this. Never hurt so much inside. But you don't regret it. You think that maybe you'll be good enough now. Now that you've truly done everything in your power maybe everything will change.
You really should have know better.
In the end, you don't really have a choice. You're tired of not breathing, of not living... you're tired of it all. And most of all you're tired of trying. Trying and trying and never getting things right.
You don't write her a note. You don't even say goodbye to the few friends you have left.
As you lay down in the wet grass you don't think about Cecily or Dru. You don't even think about Buffy Summers. You think about your mother's soft hands stroking your hair away from your forehead.
Then, as it has every morning since as far back as anyone can remember, the sun rose.