Red Right Hand

'Buffy. Buffy! Get up!'

Buffy's eyelids flickered as a voice drilled in her ears. Where was she? She slowly gained awareness that she was lying on the hard concrete ground with a throbbing head. And that voice belonged to Xander.

'Xander,' she grunted, forcing herself to sit up. 'What-'

'Buffy, I know who the killer is,' he interrupted urgently, helping her to her feet. 'I found Willow's body...' he stopped, choking up with tears of despair.

Buffy winced. And Faith. The killer took Faith. She looked around her for her body, but the darkness obscured her normally super-great vision.

'Xander!' she cried, feeling sudden relief that at least one of her friends hadn't died. 'I'm so glad you're okay. Listen, its not safe here...'

'Come with me,' he urged, 'before he comes back.'

'Wait,' Buffy asked, confused, 'you really do know who-'

Suddenly, Oz run out from the side of the house. He set wild eyes upon Buffy and Xander, and then started to flail his arms desperately.

'Buffy!' he shouted, 'Get away from him!'

Buffy looked at Xander, then at Oz.

'Buffy,' Xander gulped. 'Oz is the killer. I found him trying to kill you-'

'Buffy!' Oz continued to rant. She had never once seen Oz loose his cool, and this unnerved her. ''He did it, Buffy! He's killed Willow, now he's trying to-'

'No!' Xander roared, as Buffy took a few steps backward towards the house porch. 'Don't listen to him! I saw him try to kill you! I stopped him! Buffy!'

'No!' Oz shouted, pulling out a small gun from his jacket, pointing it at Xander. 'He's lying!'

Xander eyed the gun warily. 'Please, Buffy, please believe me...'

Buffy didn't like guns. There was something cold and hard about them, that sent shivers down her spine. With a carefully aimed kick, she flew at Oz and knocked the gun from his hand. Quickly, she grabbed the offending weapon, and returned to the front porch, pointing the gun haphazardly at Oz and Xander.

'Don't move!' she threatened.

Oz groaned, and Xander waved his arms frantically. 'Buffy! Buffy! Give me the gun! Please! You don't-'

'No!' shouted Oz, pushing Xander aside. 'No, don't give him the gun! Give it to me!'

Buffy pointed the gun at Xander, then Oz, then back to Xander. She tried to find some sign that one of them was telling the truth, but her search was in vain. With an exasperated cry, she spun on her heels and fled i to the house, slamming the door behind her. As soon as she turned te key in the lock, she felt a heavy thud against the door. There were shouts, knocks, and eventually moans coming from the other side.

'Go away!' Buffy screamed. 'Just go away! Leave me alone!'

It took a moment to rest against the door for Buffy to find her breath. Once she regained her thoughts, she knew she had to phone someone for help. This was way beyond her training as a Slayer. She couldn't phone the police, they would never understand such a complex situation.

'Giles,' she murmured, feeling hopeful. She run to the phone in the hall, still clutching the gun. She dialled his number, waiting to hear his comforting British voice. Instead, she received only the annoying trill of ringing. 'Come on,' she urged, panic rising. 'Pick up.'

'Buffy,' she heard at last. Giles had spoken. But not from the receiver.

Giles stood by the door, looking a little unhinged. He wore a black cloak. The murderer's cloak.

'Oh god,' realized Buffy, lifting her gun to her Watcher. 'Giles...its...you?'

His walked forward, and then Buffy realized. Giles was not the killer. Someone else was pointing a knife at his back, urging him forward.

Buffy gasped as Faith emerged from behind Giles, a challenge in her eyes.