Disclaimer: I don not own Buffy Vampired and The Slayer
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She was called for a reason. The reason, was why she had to run around every night and get her hands grimy. It was simple really: She was a Slayer.
That really sucked, because it meant she had to kill her boyfriend over and over everytime he pissed her off or transformed into a Transformer. It broke her heart, it did. But then, her work was still considered quite easy – just like cooking instant noodles (3 mins max).
She ran naked, to the cold porcelain toiletbowl. She leant over and retch violently, guilt pushing through her like a gutting knife. This wasn't right. She never retched for no good reason. Then, in a flash: clubbing, Spiked, bed, condoms?
Then, she remembered. Angel was dead, therefore she went clubbing. There she met Spiked. They had dragged each other to the nearest bed. There had been NO CONDOMS. So retching either meant either a) a hangover or b) she was !PREGNANT! ZOMGZ!
The test turned a bright, glittery brilliant pink. The Willow had always kept a few fits on hand, under The Willow's bed, just in case. Damn, she was DEAD. It was pink.
She took her dusty, leather wings, which cost her $1.99 from Walmart, tied them on tightly and flew to Hogwarts.
Her mission was simple: find the silver dagger. There was no other other ways.
It was surprisingly dirty and she cleaned it on the corpse of Voldiermot nearby (his body was cleanest, all white and skeletally).
She then decided to use a more creative option. She brought the silver dagger to her slim Buffyed wrists. But she realised that it would scar her flawless skin, and The Willow had tried it and it was marred forever on her heart. So Buffy The Vampired decided to plunge in into her hurting heart.
And she died.
-fin-
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I thought that was really sad, and it made me almost cry but I didn't.
Please review and R and R me!
