Summary: Yet another Halloween fic. With demons.

Disclaimer: I own... hmm. I own nothing. The bank owns any money I make, at the moment. The concepts building 1001Keys do not belong to me, most probably.

Feedback: Why not? It helps me write more and better...

AlbumThisWasWrittenTo: 'Faceless', by Godsmack

Pre-fic Comments:

Well. It would seem that I am perfectly safe from someone taking up my offer in the previous part. Heh.

"Hey, Buff," Xander said, approaching the Slayer. "What's on?"

"Mum just learnt about my Slaying," Buffy groaned. "And about everything else."

"How'd that happen?," Willow asked. "Did she catch you climbing out the window?"

"No, Angel told her he was a vampire after something with a cross," Buffy reported. "I think. Anyway, she made me spill after Angel blabbed everything."

"Oho, so Dead Boy has been a bad boy?," Xander asked.

"He is definitely in the dog house," Buffy confirmed. "Although, it is nice to know that I'm not lying to Mum anymore."

"So, you planning on donating blood?," Xander asked. "They give you stuff in return!"

"Are you kidding?," Willow asked, incredulous. "Who knows what our blood would do in a transfusion! I mean, what if someone turned into a vampire if they got given my blood?"

"Darn," Xander slumped. "There goes my free sugar fix for the day."

"I'll buy you a Chupa Chup," Buffy offered, brightening Xander up. "Hey, what about Cordelia? She's given blood -- I saw her with one of those little stickers on."

"Speak of the devil, and she shall appear," Xander smirked, spotting the cheerleader moving towards them.

"Xander!," Willow reprimanded.

"Morning, losers," Cordelia said, ever so politely.

"You haven't given blood or anything, have you?," Willow asked immediately.

"Of course I have," Cordelia smirked. "As a responsible citizen."

"What if whoever gets the blood grows fur every now and again?," Xander asked.

"They use the blood to make people healthy, so whoever gets it wins a bonus," Cordelia shrugged. "It's not like every full moon I go homicidal."

"You don't?," Willow asked. She had seen many B-grade horror movies with Xander.

"/No/, freakazoid," Cordelia snapped. "Full moon a couple nights ago, remember?"

"Still," Buffy said.

"Well, unlike you, I have things to do," Cordelia sniffed, having failed to impress them with her social responsibility.

"Now there goes the Dedicated Follower Of Fashion," Xander remarked, watching her go.

"No, she's the wrong gender for that," a boy with multicoloured hair commented while passing them.

"Well, we'd better go steal her blood packet before it does get used," Buffy decided.

"Giles!," Buffy yelled. "There's a thief stealing blood!"

"Well, yes," Giles blinked. "Vampires /are/ attracted to the Hellmouth, Buffy."

"We're thinking human thief," Xander commented. "Unless the pharmacy started selling a million SPF sunscreen."

"How peculiar," Giles mused. "I can only speculate that the donor is intended to be the target of an unfriendly spell. Er, whose blood was it."

"Cordelia's, so there isn't exactly a shortage of possible spell /casters/," Willow said meanly.

"Ah. In that case, it is more likely to be a person after more power," Giles sighed.

"But no one knows that she's a were-whatever," Buffy protested. "Except us."

"And... Mister Ethan Rayne," Xander realised. "Hey, where the hell did he get to?"

"I don't know," Giles said. "He may still be in his shop. Buffy, try there."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said sweetly. "For a moment there, I thought you were ordering me around like I'm your slave or something."

Giles sighed again. "Buffy, /please/ go and find out."

"Okay!"

"I don't know anything!"

"How do I know that you're telling the truth?," Buffy asked. She had reverted to the Marilith form for added intimidation, and her tail was slowly crushing Ethan's legs.

"I am! I am!"

"For some reason, I still don't believe you," Buffy smiled. "That could be because of /you/ I can't sleep in a normal bed like a normal person, I dunno. But hey, guess, what, you're coming with me so that Ripper can make sure!"

Ethan whimpered. Bugger the shop's rent for the rest of the month, he was going to piss off back to England the second he got away from this pack of loons.

O'Neil looked at the packet. Such a frail container... they really should use proper potion bottles for such precious 1iQui]z.

His left hand tapped a specific sequence on his laptop, and he listened as a series of klangs echoed throughout the water filtration plant.

Eventually, they stopped.

Good.

He carefully opened the packet of blood with a pair of scissors, letting the blood tinge the water flowing through the Sunnydale water supply.

True, it would probably be too dilute to affect the people with strong constitutions, but it was the weak people who truly needed the 13v31i9 to survive this h3ll.

Once the blood stopped dripping, he washed out the packet with more water, carefully emptying it out into the pipes.

Post-fic Comments:

Remember, it's not what we know, but what the characters know.