The Last Slayer: Dead Men Tell No Tales

Disclaimer: Like I said—only thing I own is the situation.

Xander was dead, he could face that. But the fact that he had killed his girlfriend was too much to bear. And that Buffy, not the 5.0 version of slayer Buffy, but the new and improved 6.0 vampire Buffy, had killed his ex Cordelia. He scorned the girl Anya, the ghost she had become. And the fact that if she was alive he would be in torment. Not that he already wasn't. It was just that this was different Buffy and Willow didn't know it but he had a soul. And with that soul he had willingly killed her. So why couldn't he stop blaming himself?

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Angel ran, he didn't care where but as long as it was away from Spike and Buffy. He briefly wondered where she was but shook the thought off. Why can't I accept it? She does. Angel had many questions. And he was so wrapped up in them he almost didn't register that Cordelia was standing next to him. "Hey Angel." Her tone made him shiver, her voice seemed to be filled with some ethereal quality that he couldn't describe. "Hey." He replied. Cordy scuffed at the dirt path with her shoes but he could see no dust, and couldn't even smell the scent of her blood. "Cordelia," he started concerned. Angel touched Cordelia's shoulder and found that she was nothing but air. He started and backed away from her, looking anxiously at his hand. "Wh-What happened?" Angel asked. "I'm dead" she replied monotonously. "You got a problem with that then ask someone who cares." Cordy shrugged and turned angry with Angel for causing her to die. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered "It's all my fault." Cordelia turned and her eyes seemed to reflect sadness, pity and much anger. "Damn right it is!" Cordelia turned again and her eyes filled with tears "I'm dead, Angel…Oh god I'm dead…How can this…" and she stopped completely overwhelmed with tears and sank to the ground. Angel ran to her and put his arms around her surprisingly feeling flesh "What…" And the ghostly shade of Cordy disappeared into mist.

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Cordelia was scared, she could admit that to herself, but not to Angel. After leaving him by the side of the road (again) she was ashamed and didn't want to face that certain vampire anytime soon. Cordy looked down at her hands seeing that they were shaking but not really caring. "Be calm, face this, you can do it. You did it before..." she whispered hoping she could swallow some of her own advice. Unfortunately that didn't work so she was stuck with the grief of being a ghost. "Hell does this suck," Cordy grumbled. "Who really likes living the life of the undead…?" "I guess it could be worth a try," a voice started. Cordelia snapped her head around once again brandishing the stake. "What the…" The intruder stared back with innocent and confused dark brown eyes. "I'm not a vamp… and you're not B so don't even start with me." Cordelia relaxed at the sight of her. "Oh it's you. I thought I might have to fight" Cordelia turned around again and started to fiddle with her coat. "Oh please… you're not dead. That doesn't work on me." Cordy grinned. "Are you so sure?" she reached out and touched the girl and the visitor felt nothing but a slight breeze. The girl started and backed away. "You're not Cordelia… Cordy's not…dead…" Cordelia laughed and this time it was filled with malicious hatred "Run slayer, run…" And Faith turned and ran from the clearing.

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Drusilla was the most vicious vampire Angelus had ever met. And she was back. Wandering from place to place, searching for something. She hummed and thought of times long past. Wondered. Wandered. And planned.

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Angel walked the streets and turned a corner almost bumping into a young woman. "Sorry" he muttered. "Angel?" She whispered. "My Angel?"  He turned and grasped the girl's arm pulling her into the light. Immediately he saw tortured chocolate eyes and glistening brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders. She smiled fleetingly and her eyes shined like stars. "Drusilla." It was amazing to Angel how much pain he felt saying that name. "You're back" he continued dryly. Drusilla smiled. "Did you miss me?" Angel sidestepped backing one slight step away from the mad vampire. But she saw. "Now, now…lets play nice." Dru sashayed up next to him and ran her nails down his cheek. Angel jerked away and grimaced but she pulled him close and whispered, "Until next time, dearie…" and disappeared.  Angel sighed in relief noting the tension that was released from the air once she had gone. But she wasn't really gone. Oh no…not yet.

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[ Faith: n, pl. 1: allegiance to duty or a person : LOYALTY b (1) : Fidelity to one's promises (2) : the sincerity of intentions. 2: a (1) belief and trust in and loyalty to God (2) : firm belief in something for which there is no proof.  ]

Faith. If you looked that word up in the dictionary it would tell you a thing of goodness or to believe in something wholly. Well, if you look Faith up in the LAPD files it will tell you that she is a murderer, thief, scoundrel, liar, and a few other nasty comments made by victims. Thank god our Faith doesn't sit in church 24/7 and pray. Maybe it could happen, it *is* the 21st century. Yeah. Right.

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Drusilla picked up Miss Edith and frowned, looking at a light stain on the shirt. "Miss Edith shall have no tea today for she has been a bad example." She sighed mournfully and once again wandered by the window. "Where is my Spike?" "Right here Pet…" Dru turned her entire face as bright as Christmas lights. "Is that you love?" Spike laughed. "Of course, Ducks." Dru clapped happily and scampered over to him. Spike collapsed wearily on a chair and, pouting, Drusilla sat on his lap.

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What happens if the world ends…he wondered. In the end all souls will be free to roam the earth and demons shall once again rule. Smiling he crossed the path to his lair and nodded to a guard. Sad though. Humans are such fun to watch.. Drawing open the door to the parlor of the expensive manor, he caught sight of that girl. The one he had found last night on the streets. "What's your name?" The girl raised her chin defiantly and narrowed her eyes. "Speak up girl, I have no time to waste." She sighed and pulled at her chains again, one last attempt at freedom. He sighed. "Must I resort to pain?" he smiled wickedly showing a set of fangs, long and dangerous. She spit at his feet angrily. He quickly drew forward and bit into the girl's neck savoring the taste. Ah the blood of the slayer. Like ambrosia they say. The girl screamed as he drained her blood. Suddenly he stopped and drew away from her neck whispering, "What is your name child…" "Alicia." She muttered. He smiled. "Well… it's been a pleasure being in your company Alicia." He turned from her and then, as quick as lightning, bit into her again this time draining her of every drop of life. "Such a pleasure…" And he dropped the body and exited, never looking back on the Slayer Alicia. 

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He awoke. After almost 400 years of sleep in that dusty tomb, he was back and ready to kill him some slayer. Sighing sadly he pulled himself out of the coffin he was resting in and dusted himself off. His name was Helios when he was human, which was almost 3,000 years ago. Like the master, it had been said that he had no soul. Of course they were right. Helios Caesar Julian was named after the Greek god Helios and it had been said that he was, in fact, the renowned god. Caesar was his middle name, being a family name that had lasted for centuries.  Julian was his last name. Or so it was that his father had had that name and the father before that and to so far back no one could even remember. But then, he'd killed his father. Ah. Yes.

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The Slayer Alicia was finally reborn into this world. It seemed silly to be inside a child's body, but considering the circumstances, she didn't mind. The body was short, about fourteen years old, with green eyes and wild ringlets, a shade of gold and red. In her lifetime, she had been tall, lithe and extremely vicious. She had had glimmering chestnut brown hair which was normally braided, and amber colored eyes. Her skin had been a light brown shade, her origin was from Spain. Now, she began to think of this new body as an overgrown leprechaun. Chuckling at the thought, she turned her head to the side, viewing the freckles that were dotted along her nose. "Definitely." Briefly, Alicia wondered about where the girl's soul had gone to, but, it wasn't much of a concern. The only thing that mattered was beginning to train this body to fight, for the Council had only recently alerted this…vessel…ahh, the name was Anne, that she was the Chosen One. Her watcher, unfortunately, had yet to arrive. It wasn't necessary. Alicia never needed her watcher, Anne wouldn't either. Alicia winced, and circled her neck, stretching. She didn't want to think about her watcher. The betrayal was too great, the sacrifice of such a great man was painful, unheeded. She hadn't wanted to kill him…

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Alicia, (Anne.) walked by Shady Hill Cemetery. She was on her way downtown, down Main Street…although everyone in Sunnydale knew to be off of the streets when the sun set. But Alicia didn't care. Despite her petite frame, her spirit possessed an extreme amount of strength and power, she was a formidable opponent to any vampire or demon that attempted to slay this slayer. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…" She murmured as she slunk past the overgrown crabgrass these people called lawns and into the badly walled-in Cemetery.

No. Too easy. She could already sense something newly risen, something fresh. A grin split her naturally red lips, and she pressed her fingertips to the stake nestled in the back-pocket of her fitted jeans. During the California 'winter' period, one had to be mindful of what you wore. Not that she needed it, because the cold was refreshing after four hundred years of nothing.