THREE
The motel the supposed werewolf was staying at had seen better days. It was one of those laid out as if each room was a separate building. Locating room twenty-seven wasn't difficult. Except that it appeared to be unoccupied at the moment.
"Great," said Buffy to herself. "He's apparently already gone out. Which means he could be anywhere. Maybe there's something in his room that will give me an idea where to look. If Restin was right, he might plan out his attacks."
Cautiously she moved up to the door. She tested the handle and found it locked. Not a problem for her. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Finding herself alone she turned the doorknob. Her immense strength snapped the lock like a dry twig. She slipped inside and hurriedly closed the door behind her.
The room didn't appear any different from the numerous motel rooms she had stayed in herself over the past few months. The bed wasn't made but that didn't strike her as particularly odd. She rifled through the draws of the dresser and nightstands but found nothing of interest.
She moved over to the closet and quietly opened the door. Several suits of close hung in the closet and several pairs of shoes sat on the floor. Nothing out of the ordinary about those. But what was out of the ordinary were several women's purses stuffed into a trash bag in the corner of the closet. Now what would a lone man need with women's purses?
Buffy quickly looked through the purses. They belonged to a variety of women, different ages, different races, and several had identification showing they worked at different places. But all of them were local. She found some matchbooks in a couple of them from a bar she recognized as being nearby.
Maybe Restin was right. Maybe this guy was a werewolf. He'd go to this bar and pick up unsuspecting women. He could then bring them back to his room where he could kill them at his leisure. And the dried blood on some of the purses seemed to bear this out.
Suddenly Buffy heard the door to the room open. Quickly, she pulled the door to the closet closed, leaving it open only enough to see out of. She couldn't see the door to the room but she could hear voices. One was a man's voice. The other was a woman's.
"I don't normally do this," said the woman as the light came on in the room.
"Neither do I," said the male voice. "But we hit it off so well I figured, what the heck? You only live once. And the only true regrets are the things you don't do."
"I supposed," said the female voice nervously.
"Now," said the male voice, "just make yourself comfortable while I step into the bathroom real quick. I need to change. I shouldn't be long."
"Okay," said the female voice.
"Or please," said Buffy, pushing the closet door open, "don't tell me you're going to fall for that 'our only regrets are the things we don't do' line? That's so old. Not very original at all."
"Who are you?" demanded the man, spinning around to look at her. "How did you get into my room?"
It was the same man Restin had pointed out in the cafeteria. He looked almost exactly as he had then. Except Buffy noticed his eyes were starting to turn yellow. The girl must have been so nervous she hadn't noticed. But Buffy knew this confirmed her suspicions. She knew from Oz that one of the first changes a werewolf goes through were their eyes. His had changed to the same dull yellow she now saw in this man's eyes.
"Honey," said Buffy, pushing the bag of purses out of the closet, "I don't think you understand what he means when he says he's going to change. If I were you, I'd be getting on home. Unless you're interested in why this guy has women's purses in his closet with dried blood on them."
"I'm not interested in any group thing," said the young woman, picking up the purse she had dropped on the bed and beginning to head for the door. "I think I'd better be going."
"Oh no you don't," said the man, grabbing her by the arm. "I don't know who this one is," he glanced at Buffy, "but looks like I get two for the price of one."
"Not tonight, sunshine," said Buffy.
She reached out and grabbed the man's wrist that was locked around the girls arm. With a sudden yank she pulled the girl's arm free of the man's grasp and flung the man across the room. She then stepped between the girl and the man.
"You'd better be going, sweetheart," said Buffy. "Your 'date' and I have a few things to talk over."
The girl didn't wait. She turned and hurried from the room as fast as she could go. Buffy glanced out the open door and saw the girl head for a car in the parking lot. Then Buffy turned back to face the man.
"You fool," said the man, standing up. He was now in the full throes of his transformation. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Too bad you won't live long enough to regret your foolishness. I may not get both of you tonight but you'll make a very tasty morsel in her place."
"Not tonight, hairy," said Buffy as she watched the man change.
It took only seconds for him to change fully into his werewolf form. Snarling, the beast leapt over the bed, it's clawed fingers reaching for Buffy. Ready for the attack, Buffy stepped to the side as the beast narrowly missed her. She hit it full force with her fist sending the beast sprawling back across the bed once again.
There was now no resemblance between this beast and the man it had been only moments before. All rational thought was gone. The only driving force was the instinct to kill its prey. And that prey at the moment was Buffy. It launched itself once again at the Slayer, intent on killing and devouring her as it had done countless times before.
But this was no ordinary prey. This was the Slayer. Infinitely stronger and quicker than any human or even vampire. And more than a match for a snarling beast who simply attacked out of instinct. A beast that didn't gauge its attacks but relied on brute force to do its work.
The two fought for several minutes. Although on the offensive, Buffy had not yet had the opportunity to pull the silver stake out of her back pocket. The breast was faster and stronger than she had anticipated. She had several minor cuts from the beasts' claws, but they would heal before morning.
Suddenly the beast dove at her intent on tearing this human apart. Buffy kicked the beast in the face and spun completely around, narrowly being missed by the claws that tried to rake her throat. As she completed her spin, she pulled out the silver stake from her back pocket.
Years of training and experience fighting vampires, demons, and other creatures of evil were well honed in this young Slayer. In her first encounter with a vampire, she had staked the undead creature but had completely missed the heart. In the years since she had learned to strike the heart of her opponent without missing a beat.
She backed away and looked at the beast. The silver stake strutted from its chest, nearly half of it lodged in the heart of the beast. It reached up and tried to pull the offending weapon from its chest. With a swift kick, Buffy drove the stake completely into the beasts chest, piercing the heart clean through. The werewolf reached out once more, and then fell to the floor dead. Within seconds the body had reverted back to its human form.
Buffy looked around. The room was a shambles. Their fight had destroyed nearly every piece of furniture in the room. And other guests and probably even the management would no doubt have noticed it. She would have a difficult time explaining to anyone what she was doing in a room with a dead body that had a silver stake in its chest.
Buffy moved quickly to the bathroom and opened the window. Everyone would be coming to the front door to see what all the commotion was. Quietly, she slipped out the bathroom window and disappeared unnoticed into the darkness as a sheriff's car pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the motel office.
The motel the supposed werewolf was staying at had seen better days. It was one of those laid out as if each room was a separate building. Locating room twenty-seven wasn't difficult. Except that it appeared to be unoccupied at the moment.
"Great," said Buffy to herself. "He's apparently already gone out. Which means he could be anywhere. Maybe there's something in his room that will give me an idea where to look. If Restin was right, he might plan out his attacks."
Cautiously she moved up to the door. She tested the handle and found it locked. Not a problem for her. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching. Finding herself alone she turned the doorknob. Her immense strength snapped the lock like a dry twig. She slipped inside and hurriedly closed the door behind her.
The room didn't appear any different from the numerous motel rooms she had stayed in herself over the past few months. The bed wasn't made but that didn't strike her as particularly odd. She rifled through the draws of the dresser and nightstands but found nothing of interest.
She moved over to the closet and quietly opened the door. Several suits of close hung in the closet and several pairs of shoes sat on the floor. Nothing out of the ordinary about those. But what was out of the ordinary were several women's purses stuffed into a trash bag in the corner of the closet. Now what would a lone man need with women's purses?
Buffy quickly looked through the purses. They belonged to a variety of women, different ages, different races, and several had identification showing they worked at different places. But all of them were local. She found some matchbooks in a couple of them from a bar she recognized as being nearby.
Maybe Restin was right. Maybe this guy was a werewolf. He'd go to this bar and pick up unsuspecting women. He could then bring them back to his room where he could kill them at his leisure. And the dried blood on some of the purses seemed to bear this out.
Suddenly Buffy heard the door to the room open. Quickly, she pulled the door to the closet closed, leaving it open only enough to see out of. She couldn't see the door to the room but she could hear voices. One was a man's voice. The other was a woman's.
"I don't normally do this," said the woman as the light came on in the room.
"Neither do I," said the male voice. "But we hit it off so well I figured, what the heck? You only live once. And the only true regrets are the things you don't do."
"I supposed," said the female voice nervously.
"Now," said the male voice, "just make yourself comfortable while I step into the bathroom real quick. I need to change. I shouldn't be long."
"Okay," said the female voice.
"Or please," said Buffy, pushing the closet door open, "don't tell me you're going to fall for that 'our only regrets are the things we don't do' line? That's so old. Not very original at all."
"Who are you?" demanded the man, spinning around to look at her. "How did you get into my room?"
It was the same man Restin had pointed out in the cafeteria. He looked almost exactly as he had then. Except Buffy noticed his eyes were starting to turn yellow. The girl must have been so nervous she hadn't noticed. But Buffy knew this confirmed her suspicions. She knew from Oz that one of the first changes a werewolf goes through were their eyes. His had changed to the same dull yellow she now saw in this man's eyes.
"Honey," said Buffy, pushing the bag of purses out of the closet, "I don't think you understand what he means when he says he's going to change. If I were you, I'd be getting on home. Unless you're interested in why this guy has women's purses in his closet with dried blood on them."
"I'm not interested in any group thing," said the young woman, picking up the purse she had dropped on the bed and beginning to head for the door. "I think I'd better be going."
"Oh no you don't," said the man, grabbing her by the arm. "I don't know who this one is," he glanced at Buffy, "but looks like I get two for the price of one."
"Not tonight, sunshine," said Buffy.
She reached out and grabbed the man's wrist that was locked around the girls arm. With a sudden yank she pulled the girl's arm free of the man's grasp and flung the man across the room. She then stepped between the girl and the man.
"You'd better be going, sweetheart," said Buffy. "Your 'date' and I have a few things to talk over."
The girl didn't wait. She turned and hurried from the room as fast as she could go. Buffy glanced out the open door and saw the girl head for a car in the parking lot. Then Buffy turned back to face the man.
"You fool," said the man, standing up. He was now in the full throes of his transformation. "You have no idea what you're dealing with. Too bad you won't live long enough to regret your foolishness. I may not get both of you tonight but you'll make a very tasty morsel in her place."
"Not tonight, hairy," said Buffy as she watched the man change.
It took only seconds for him to change fully into his werewolf form. Snarling, the beast leapt over the bed, it's clawed fingers reaching for Buffy. Ready for the attack, Buffy stepped to the side as the beast narrowly missed her. She hit it full force with her fist sending the beast sprawling back across the bed once again.
There was now no resemblance between this beast and the man it had been only moments before. All rational thought was gone. The only driving force was the instinct to kill its prey. And that prey at the moment was Buffy. It launched itself once again at the Slayer, intent on killing and devouring her as it had done countless times before.
But this was no ordinary prey. This was the Slayer. Infinitely stronger and quicker than any human or even vampire. And more than a match for a snarling beast who simply attacked out of instinct. A beast that didn't gauge its attacks but relied on brute force to do its work.
The two fought for several minutes. Although on the offensive, Buffy had not yet had the opportunity to pull the silver stake out of her back pocket. The breast was faster and stronger than she had anticipated. She had several minor cuts from the beasts' claws, but they would heal before morning.
Suddenly the beast dove at her intent on tearing this human apart. Buffy kicked the beast in the face and spun completely around, narrowly being missed by the claws that tried to rake her throat. As she completed her spin, she pulled out the silver stake from her back pocket.
Years of training and experience fighting vampires, demons, and other creatures of evil were well honed in this young Slayer. In her first encounter with a vampire, she had staked the undead creature but had completely missed the heart. In the years since she had learned to strike the heart of her opponent without missing a beat.
She backed away and looked at the beast. The silver stake strutted from its chest, nearly half of it lodged in the heart of the beast. It reached up and tried to pull the offending weapon from its chest. With a swift kick, Buffy drove the stake completely into the beasts chest, piercing the heart clean through. The werewolf reached out once more, and then fell to the floor dead. Within seconds the body had reverted back to its human form.
Buffy looked around. The room was a shambles. Their fight had destroyed nearly every piece of furniture in the room. And other guests and probably even the management would no doubt have noticed it. She would have a difficult time explaining to anyone what she was doing in a room with a dead body that had a silver stake in its chest.
Buffy moved quickly to the bathroom and opened the window. Everyone would be coming to the front door to see what all the commotion was. Quietly, she slipped out the bathroom window and disappeared unnoticed into the darkness as a sheriff's car pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the motel office.
