PROLOGUE

Above, people strolled the streets, browsed the shops, sipped coffee, argued, thought alone and walked away. Teenage girls traveled in packs of five, momentarily ceasing their incessant giggling to point at a new handbag in a store window. Teenage boys rolled through crowds on rackety skateboards, jumping the curbs and planters, ignoring and absorbing the glares of shoppers with pride. Young women commiserated with each other over expensive lattes, complaining about college, distant homes and even more distant but ever-present boyfriends. Stressed mothers dreamed of college years while touting the hands of a five year old and two year old, past memories whisking her away from the eternal whining of spoiled children. And grown men very wisely stayed away from the cruel playground of Sunnydale shoppers.

Below, the sun never touched. Below, there were no cliques, no homework, no straying husbands and uncontrollable mortgages. Below, there was only the instinctive will to survive. And survival could only exist with the petty throes of Sunnydale.

The threat to survival was not a shortage of prey. Quite the opposite as there was a downright smorgasbord of food available to them. No, the threat to them, to him, was much smaller.

And more blonde.

"Buffy." It hissed. It, was He, The First. A king among vampires, very nearly a god among vampires. Soon to be among men, too.

The First sat in a throne, in a deep cavern surrounded by tunnels that went on for miles underneath the bustling place that was Sunnydale. Engulfed with torch-lit fire, this cavern was his kingdom. But now, he felt the need to expand and to conquer.

There were circumstances barring him from achieving his goal. Moronic vampire minions, an annoying little Slayer, and that bright thing called the sun. Imagine a world, shrouded in darkness…

The First sighed in relief at the thought of it. Ghastly yellow fingernails on a grey hand rubbed his forehead. If he weren't so dead he'd probably have a headache by now.

"Master?" Came a tentative call.

"What?" He grumbled from underneath his hand.

"We found it."

The First raised his head slowly, pushing down his anticipation for he had felt the bitter hand of disappointment before.

Two young vampires approached him meekly, but carrying between them an ornately carved box made of solid gold. The symbols carved into the top of the box were entirely alien to the two, but were instantly recognized by The First.

He reached for the golden box with trembling fingers. His tongue snaked out from behind his fangs to lick his blue lips. He opened the box and gasped.

The two vampires feared for their lives and quaked in their leather biker boots. But instead of crushing their necks as he had done to countless others, The First looked up at them and smiled.

"Excellent."