(Disis my firstest Buffy Fic. I was reluctant to start, with such an intimidating pool of fanfic for Buffy, and a lack of inspiration...but I found inspiration...and I didn't think alot of people used Oc's like me, what with such good characters already...But....I thought I stood a chance with that. I hope you enjoy. Also I was excited to get this out here, and hoping that people would like it, so there might be a few errors, or more..cause I'm horribly sloppy. Please tell me why/if you liked it! Or tell me vice versa if you didn't. I would like to know if I had the characters...even remotely down, because I haven't watched Buffy Seriously since it went off air. So the Goodness of Buffy essence could have been off...alot. I really enjoy writing this Buffy Fic, even more than I thought I would, so I know I'm not done yet...Happy reading)
The Misfortune-Child
A Tale of Mystery, Angst, Horror and out-of-style Historic Fashions.
By Nae-Cor
(BTW the characters belong to their respective owners....blah blah blah blah..)
A woman broke through a circle of bushes. She was running, in a long, white Victorian lady's dress. It was torn and frayed as her appearance. Long golden locks flew behind her as she ran and ducked and tumbled with a predatory grace. But there was fear in her eyes. Her yellow cat's eyes. Her face was twisted like no human's had ever been. Her nails were long and bloodstained. Her panicked panting reveal yellow, bloodstained teeth protruding out of her mouth, giving her lips a fuller look. Making her face more distorted, to pull her lips over those long teeth.
A figure leaped from the side, flying through the air to land on her, knocking her over and sending her rolling down the hill. The figure, a girl, wearing tight black pants, an olive shirt and a leather jacket went rolling with her, dropping a long wooden stake in the process. They rolled over and over until they hit the base of a tree. The girl in the black pants snapped her head to glare at the woman in the dress, and did and two back flips up the hill to grab the stake. She turned to hold her hand with the stake poised, ready to stab the Victorian woman. But she was gone. The girl, who couldn't have been out of high school began to walk sideways and down, prowling around the tree, her eyes shifting from side to side. There was a corner of white dress hanging out from the edge of a tree trunk, two trees away. She slid towards it, a few leaves crackling under her feet, and then paused, frozen. She began again, staring at that dress corner. Intent on it. When she had reached the side of the tree, she rounded it, her stake absolutely ready. Resting on the trunk of the tree, was a torn white piece of cloth. She gaped at it in disbelief. And she felt a current of air behind her; a rustling sound, then icy hands gripped her. There was a cackle, followed by freezing breath on the back of her neck. It sent shivers down her spine.
"Are you going to kill me Slayer?" The voice was soft and caressing, aided by an strange accent. One that rolled the r's and twisted the vowels like no Englishman she had ever heard. It sounded so much older. "I have seen them fall before...some of them last as long as you do, some of them don't..."
She stood still, breathing shallowly until she thought she could feel where the woman was. She sent her elbow backwards, trying to kick and spin and fight her way out of the woman's grip. But when she sent her elbow backwards, it went through into the air. The woman was backing away from her, the wind blowing her hair and dress upward. She looked like a ghost woman, so pale that her skin made her white dress and platinum blonde hair seem yellow. Her lip curled into a smile. "There is no need to play anymore games, Slayer."
"You're right. There isn't. I just need to get this over with so I can get on with my life. You're consuming my precious time."
The vampire frowned. There was a space of silence. And she looked genuinely sad. "I suppose that you spare me more words than the rest, if you are to kill me. There is no shame in death by a slayer I suppose. If you can kill me..."
Two Weeks Earlier...
"Buffy, is there something wrong?" The red haired girl leaned forward, a look of concern on her face.
"No..." The blonde girl smiled weakly, trying to reassure her friend. But it didn't do anything.
"Are you sure, absolutely sure nothing's wrong?"
"Yeah, I'm just feeling down about school. I've been falling down on my duties. It always seems like everyone expects me to be a master at this stuff, in addition to saving the world." she rolled her eyes. "It's a pain..."
"In Buffy we trust...?" The friend offered, her numerous school books taking up all the free arm space she had. She gave her a helpless look instead of a hug. "I'm here to help you anytime you need me...I know it's really hard with that Slayer stuff...and stuff.. Stuff can be difficult...stuff."
Buffy smiled at that. "Thanks, Will."
"No problem...Buffy..." Willow smiled shyly.
"Hey, how's it goin'?" A guy came up, books in hand to stand with them. He smiled at both of them.
"Hey, Xander I'm good, how is your stuff?"
"Um...my stuff...my stuff is good...but it's kind of stuffy."
"Oh," Willow began, without taking time to appreciate his little jokes. "Buffy is have a stuff problem. We should help her with her stuff, because Buffy stuff is hard."
"Ah, yes the Buff-ster. And her stuff-ster stuff. It's spufster Bufster stuff." he turned to smile charmingly at Buffy simultaneously with Willow's nervous glance. But she had dissapeared. "Oh...I guess she had to take care of her stufster..."
"I think your jokes about her...stufster scared Buffy away."
"Ah, headline reads: The Queen of Slayers died of fright this morning. She was walking in the hall, when suddonly she was overtaken by overbearing friends. They even comforted her." He laughed to himself, waving goodbye to Willow...
And...
...Buffy was wandering through a garden in the deep afternoon. It was hazy like a dream. And the grass and flowers had caught the orange, yellow, and gold highlights of the sunset. It looked like a garden on fire, only so much softer. There were white moths and butterflies flying through the air. She looked down. She was wearing an old Victorian dress. The neck was scratchy, and the cuffs were so tight, the fabric, though beautiful sticking to her. "What...?" She blinked in confusion. The air smelled of flowers and fresh grass. It was so much more vivid than any other dream she had had...ever.
As she walked along, she was overtaken by a sensation of sleepiness, and well-being. She forgot why it was so strange to be walking in the garden of a castle at Sunset.
"Hello." The voice of a young girl beckoned her to turn swiftly. The girl was wearing a dress very similar. She had the body of girl, with only her eyes to tell anyone differently. She had a flat chested figure, and rounder cheeks. Lips that were full and pink. And her long golden locks painted the picture of a Victorian Angel. She was Buffy's heigh almost exactly.
"Hello.." She said hazily, blinking.
"Did you come here because you heard me screaming?" Her voice rolled, rich and merry, like a child actress of the 30's. It had the precocious air of amusement of an adult. She carried a British accent, with a hint of something else. But Buffy didn't even hear it.
"No..." Buffy's voice trailed off. "You were screaming? Why were you screaming?"
"Because there was a man here."
"What kind of man?" Buffy took a step closer to her.
"One of those men who wear masks...masks of the devil. They look like gargoyles...with their bright yellow devil's eyes. They really aren't men at all..."
"A vampire?"Buffy's fist instinctively clenched. She glanced from side to side, spotting a stone bench, with wooden planks. She kept the wooden planks in mind. "Where is he now?" She took another step towards the girl, becoming more alert.
"I don't know..." The girl looked thoughtful; musing. There was no fright in her eyes, nor amusement. But she let the words fall from her mouth as if they were of no consequence. A hint of nonchalance that she carried very well, and without arrogance.
Buffy walked over to the bench, ripping out a plank and breaking it in half over her knee. A rip tore in her dress, and she grimaced, more irritated at the dress than the plank. She couldn't help thinking how disgustingly without fashion it was. Victorian England was so not in style. So frilly. So...Victorian England.
"Show me where you were." Buffy said it, in her breathless right- down-to-business tone
The girl had a kind of quiet recognition in her eyes as she looked over Buffy. "This way..."
Buffy followed the girl, keeping up easily with her pace. It wasn't too fast nor too slow, and graceful; strange.
They arrived at a clearing of the garden, surrounded by old stone walls. Gothic stones, whom ivy crept over. There where white chairs and a table, made of wire, the tall grass and wildflowers towering behind the lawn set. To the left of the chairs was a circular structure, curving around the clearing part of the way. It was made of heavy, square stone pillars and a grate, following the top all the way, covered too in ivy. There was a fountain in one of the pillars that was dried up. It was shady, and lonely, in an eery kind of way. "Dammit.." Buffy grumbled, readying her stake. She didn't think he would stick around after a hit and run. She stopped to think for a moment, remembering the strange atmosphere of the girl. The harmless angel. She turned to check on her, and saw the path leading from the clearing to the garden path was empty.
She looked back and forth, turning around and running down the path, looking down both sides of a fork in the road. "Oh no...come on..."She moaned, pausing at a sound. She heard it again, a scream. It sounded like a cry for help, but muddled. "Uh..." her arms were growing heavy, her heart beating faster and faster.
"Are you looking for someone?" She turned around, as if in a bubble of Jell-O, her legs and arms so slow and thick. But the garden air was thin, like always. Her History teacher stood the path, his arms crossed. "The Sand Man perhaps? Or maybe you were looking for a detention..."
Buffy blinked, her body still slow. She turned her head and lifted it to find herself in her history classroom, the balding man who was her teacher standing there, stiffly.
"You can sleep as much as you want in detention, Miss Summers."
She grimaced, looking around the classroom. He had held everything up so everyone could watch her get embarrassed. Some people were snickering around her, whispering things to each other.
One, two, skip a few...minutes...
"Buffy..you...disappeared last period." Willow hurried to catch up with her straight after the bell had rung.
"I was afraid our strange way of supporting you by Xander making fun of your situation scared you away."
"I'm a little tougher than that..." She smiled a little, still sleepy, and still depressed.
"Oh Buffy...you don't look so good. Are you sure that nothing else is on your mind? You wanna tell me about that stuff...cause...cause I'm here for you and everything...to help you..."
"Oh Willow..." Buffy was feeling disoriented, and down. It seemed like once she was at school, not sleeping in on the weekends, burning away the time, nothing was real, even the people who cared about her. It was like she viewed the world through glass.
"It's nothing. I'm just feeling really tired from all the...slaying stuff. Just my Buffy...stuff. And Mr. Corson gave me a detention today."
"For what? Or ah...is that a good question "
"Sleeping. But I didn't even mean to...I just zoned out...I'm just so tired."
"So uh...I guess you don't want to come to the Bronze tonight...since you're all tired and stuff."
"Oh...." Buffy looked everywhere but Willow. She didn't want to disappoint her friends and loose her life just because of depression. Besides, she had a strong image to keep up... "I don't think it would hurt." She squinted, regretting saying it when Willow's face lit up happily.
"Oh really Buffy? I'm so glad...we couldn't miss you on a Tuesday...all those Tuesday blues--" "It's only Tuesday?" Buffy asked herself. "...And vaccation is next week...after finals, oh no...what will I do when school is out for two weeks...I'll just have to study..keep myself busy..."
"Uh, I'm gonna be late, see you later Willow.." Buffy fled, waving encouragingly to her. Willow waved back, a sort of happy, sheepish look on her face. But She frowned after Buffy's shuffle worriedly.
Home at last...
After Buffy got home, it was quiet, and still daytime. She had hours before she left for the Bronze, hours to do her homework. So she shuffled upstairs, and fell on her bed, staring at the ceiling. When she opened her eyes, she was standin, staring down a clearing. She blinked, pointing. "Hey, wasn't I just...I know this dream." She shook her head. "Wait...I know I'm in a dream..." She blinked, grabbing the soft whitish-yellow of her dress.
Before she could ponder, a flutter of white fabric below her, between the green of the Ivy caught her eye. She followed a rustle of clothing and some footsteps over the stone banister, following it to a flight of stairs, leading downward into the shade. She noted a stake, lying in the grass below her. She ran towards it, rolling and grabbing it, to squat in a cheetah position. She heard another rustle to the side, and she froze, poised. Then the footsteps ran away from her, softly pattering on the grass. She rolled over to the other side of the pillar. She blinked, confused, the clearing was configured differently now, and the staircase she had just come down was only a stone wall. Her brow furrowed in disbelief. She had the urge to tear at the ivy, and run her hands along the rough, ancient stones of the wall.
But she had a fluttering panicked feeling. Her disbelief of her surroundings had distracted her from her pursuit. She looked again to see the girl disappear around a corner, her long blonde locks and white dress flowing behind her. "No...w-wait!" She set herself into a run, uncompromising and deadly. She reached the corner to fly around the end, and be stopped by a flight of stairs leading up to where she had been. She froze, eyeing three pathways. One, that led under a stone walkway into some ruins, and another that led up into the long balcony she had come from. The other path veered out into the garden, becoming a trail of trampled and overgrown plants; a dirt trail. The sun had set lower in the sky, painting the castle and the gardens in red. Blood red. But the castle cast a violet shadow over the clearing, and this side of the ruins. She looked for any hint of white. There was nothing. She stood up completely, letting her hand drop down. Then she heard the tap-tap-tap of feet on the stones, echoing. It seemed to be traveling up. She looked all around her, turning, and squinted at the sky. Her head was itchy...and pinned up like a ladies...but missing pieces that had fallen out during her excursion.
At the very top, along the highlight of last sunset the girl emerged. She broke outward, appearing between the turrets. When she burst forward, a flock of birds, having been disturbed by her entrance took off violently, swarming from the edge, they flew upward, seeming to grow in number. Until they blotted out the sky.
Buffy jumped up and ran as hard as she could, following the echo of angry swarming birds. She cried out, tripping on a step, and winced, moving on. She pushed herself up and up the steps. She threw herself over the top of the stairs, holding her arms in front of her, and she led herself through the swarm of angry birds. Then the parted, thinning in the middle, flying away. She saw the girl at the end of the roof, standing between two huge, thick turrets.
Buffy reached her arm out, running towards her. The girl had her hands held up, out either side of her body, a look on her face that held nothing. There was no fear, no anything. And then the girl stepped backwards, towards the edge. And then she fell backwards, slowly, like a dream.
"Nooooo!!!" Buffy screamed, pushing herself to reach the girl more quickly. She nearly went over the edge, tearing after the girl, the momentum sending her outwards, her hand twitching after the girl, open. The girl fell and fell so far down. And then she landed on her feet, the white of her dress trailing after her. It wasn't like she landed, but flew down, almost. Falling so slowly, and landing how she did. She looked up and Buffy with eyes completely empty, and then ran, like she was a piece of fabric in the wind, barely or never touching the ground, to disappear into the shade of the woods. Buffy was frozen, her hand shaking. Tears had slipped out of her eyes when the girl began to fall, and they were frozen on her cheek. Her brow was furrowed, feeling completely bewildered and estranged.
"Buffy.." her mother was standing there on the roof, in between the fluttering birds, leaning forward. "Buffy, Willow called you." Then she had the sensation of falling, the flutter of her stomach pressing upward against her guts. She landed in her bed, jarred. She sat up, eyes wide. It was dark. She opened her eyes. Her mother was leaning towards her, a concerned look on her face. "Buffy...are you okay? Were you sleeping?"
"No, mom..." She said in a very annoyed tone. She got up off the bed and grabbed her purse. She had to find a clock. It didn't feel like the same days and nights since she had fallen asleep lately.
"Did you do your homework, Buffy?" Joyce called after her.
"Crap! I'm going to be late..." She mumbled to herself.
"Uh huh. Goin' to the Bronze..." She called as she flung the door open. It slammed behind her.