Title: Tasting Death
Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, unfortunately. So don't sue me; I'm basically worthless.
Rating: Strong PG-13, or maybe a mild R.
Author's Note: This is my first non 'character relationship driven' story. By that, I mean this story is actually going to have a real!plot. It takes place in season 5, but there's no Riley or Dawn (and therefore, no Glory), because I hate them. Read on and feel free to leave lots o' feedback on what you think of the first chapters of this ongoing work in progress. New chapters will be posted once a week (though some of the chapters will be short, like this first one - think Stephen King style in 'Misery'), so make sure to log on for
Saturday updates. Remember, feedback keeps the author happy, so make sure to give, and you shall recieve.
So here's the lowdown: our slayer of the hour, a one Miss Buffy Summers, dies. Tragically, unfortunately, and no one - not even Buff herself - knows how it happened. Buffy, even more surprisingly (or maybe not, in the JossVerse), doesn't stay dead. Yep, she comes back to life in true Casper form, leaving behind a bloody corpse and more than a few unanswered questions. So how will she communicate to her friends when they can't even see her? Why has she become a restless spirit? And how, exactly, did she come to meet her grisly fate?
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Chapter One
It wasn't as if Buffy Summers would ever have called her life normal, or any semblance of thus.
She had long conceded that, being a vampire slayer as she was, a fair amount of insanity was to be expected in her daily life. The Slayer namesake - along with increased strength, agility, and a number of other superhero-like abilities - bestowed upon its holder an endless amount of trouble. Angst was the doorprize and a violent death, most likely, would be the parting gift for any girl unlucky enough to be called Chosen, which she was. And unfortunately for Buffy, the title was a mandatory privilege - but one that she usually found somewhat enjoyable, despite her better instincts.
She had decided that one reason for this was that she had never liked losing, even in friendly competitions. It made her feel stupid and weak, properties that no slayer who survived for any amount of time could possess. As the Chosen One, she was strong, shrewd, and quick on her feet.
So most that knew her well came to understand how she despised losing, refused to settle for runner up, and faced the rictus grin of the Grim Reaper on an almost daily basis. Mortality was just another issue Buffy had to deal with as Slayer, but one she found at times to be almost unreal. It surrounded her, enveloped her in its damp, smothering cloak; in turn, she embodied it.
Did she fear death? How could she?!
She -was- death, she brought it on a daily basis to a countless number of vampires, ghouls, and evil beasties with names she couldn't pronounce. Because she saw it every day, smelled it, reaped it, at even her most vulnerable hour Buffy subconsciously believed in her own immortality.
As Slayer, as Chosen, she couldn't die.
Therefore, it was almost dumbfounding to her when she did.