Author's Notes: In this story, Buffy is the Slayer when arriving in Sunnydale, but is trying to keep a bit of a normal life. Angelus doesn't know about her true identity. This chapter will start out slow as I'm trying to make it a bit normal at first. And as always, thank you for the reviews! Enjoy.
Sunnydale, California
2009 A.D.
"Dammit!" Buffy cursed as her finger was roughly scraped against an exposed nail bed, skin opening to reveal a drop of blood that fell gracefully onto the aging wooden floor. Unopened boxes were scattered throughout the bare room, and an expression of frustration was beginning to set in her features. Immediately her wound begin to heal and close before she could blink.
She heavily sighed in exasperation. Today was one of those days where she did not want to gather her belongings and make this room her own. So much work had to be done still, and she was in Sunnydale for only less than two days. She had an impulse to punch something, but it was a futile decision.
She thought for a minute as to why she couldn't have stayed in Los Angeles instead. She was an adult after all. Living here was not exactly what she had wanted, especially because she was hoping to bring some semblance of a normal life into the chaos that was her current one. She had high hopes, but still, she sighed. A cup of coffee would have done some good to calm her rambling thoughts. Or maybe not.
"Buffy, honey, are you alright? I heard yelling," Joyce Summers called from the hallway, entering her room, rays of sunlight beaming through her ash-blond curls, a wet dishtowel in hand.
"Yeah, I'm alright. No biggie really, just a little cut," Buffy answered casually, breathing through her nose in an attempt to relieve some of her stress. "Are you sure you're alright? You seem a bit out of it. I know it's hard, moving to a new town and all."
Buffy turn to look at her mother, a smile of gratefulness plastered on her features before she replied, "Yeah, I'm okay Mom. Really. Nothing to worry about. Scout's honor."
Joyce nodded. "Just let me know if you need any help. I'll be spending my time putting the dishes away." She rolled her eyes before exiting the room.
"Will do," Buffy assured, turning her attention to the vastness of the unopened cardboard boxes. Her first mission before doing anything else was to find her prized pig, Mr. Gordo, at once.
Before she could do that, a silver glint caught the corner of her eye. "I spot with my little eye…something that looks like silver," Buffy mused, heading directly towards a double door closet that was slightly ajar.
Cobwebs fluttered in the cool breeze that shifted in the room; curiosity taking a hold of the Slayer. She reached down between the closet doors, eying a black jewelry box that was covered with a thick sheet of dust, as if it were sitting there motionlessly for centuries. Without giving much thought, Buffy opened the box, to discover a small silver claddagh ring that appeared unworn and mark-free.
"Hmm. Wonder who this belongs to?" She pondered, inspecting it before she was interrupted by her mother. "Honey, dinner's ready," she called out. "Coming!" She inserted the ring back to its' original place before pocketing it.
She scurried down the stairs, never noticing a shadowed figure standing in the center of her room, watching her.
Buffy approached the spacious kitchen, hunger pangs ravishing in the pit of her stomach before a flickering image caught her sight. Hairs stood on the back of the neck as a female reporter appeared on the TV screen in the living room, her face professional, but solemn.
"Another body has been discovered at the corner of 38th and Western sometime at around five o'clock this morning. Police say that the apparent victim was a known prostitute who was a former postal worker at the local U.S. mail carrier. Cause of death remains unknown, although the victim had shown signs of blunt force trauma and strangulation. Although there appears to be injury sustained by what appeared to be a barbeque fork, no weapon has yet been found. So far, the victim could not be I'D and is now tagged as a Jane Doe. Police remain skeptical that the case is connected to the four previous homicides that had occurred in the last few weeks, though they remain optimistic that a suspect will be brought in for questioning. So far there are no leads, although both the commissioner and the mayor have now issued a city-wide curfew beginning at 9pm tonight. Police are asking for any information that may lead to an arrest. If you have any information concerning the case, you are asked to call the police immediately at this number."
Buffy narrowed her eyes in suspicion, her heart sinking. Despite the curfew and the yearning for a normal life, she made it her priority to patrol the local cemeteries and assure that nothing was out of place. She shuddered at the thought before a voice broke her reverie.
"Poor girl. Honestly, these murders need to be stopped. Shouldn't have happened in the first place." Joyce shook her head in sadness. Out of earshot, Buffy whispered, "Someone will."
Despite it being summer, the night air took on a oppressive and frigid appearance. Trotting though Weatherly Park, Buffy walked silently in the night, clutching at her stake. Slayer senses were on high alert, although doubt played in the corner of her mind. She questioned whether or not her imagination was running wild.
Los Angeles was still overrun with vampires; a part of her mind was questioning whether or not they had decided to make the leap and escape to Sunnydale yet, but at this point, she couldn't afford to take any chances. If she had the chance to prevent another death, then so be it. She immediately stiffened. A cackling was heard not too far from where she now stood: the entrance of Sunnyrest cemetery.
"Come out come out, wherever you are," Buffy called, preparing her body in a stance before she heard a twig snapping underneath heavy footsteps. Male, she quickly thought. She spun around, probing her surroundings. She was alone. She heard a rustling before she entered the cemetery, heart picking up sudden speed.
She heard a growl. Vampire, her instincts warned. She kept her focus on the cemetery, but hadn't noticed any sign of movement. It was a bait and twitch tactic, she observed. "So, are you gonna keep me waiting here all night, or would you like to, I don't know, start Round One?" She shrugged her shoulders, uncertain. Her question and challenge went unanswered.
"I guess that would be a no," she mumbled, disappointed.
She jumped at a frantic noise, noticing the sound of a limp body being dragged mere feet away from her, although it was cast in absolute shadow. Someone, or something, was dragging the corpse across a row of crypts.
Buffy quickly followed it, careful not to break any semblance of a sound. The corpse dropped onto the wet mew grass, the movement abruptly stopping. Another growl enveloped the night, and immediately, a tall, lithe body swooped at the Slayer, its' weight pressing against her small body.
"Vampire. I knew it. You guys just don't know when to stop spreading your seed, do you?" Buffy quipped, before she felt iron hands wrapping around her throat, constricting her larynx. She clawed at the hands, and in desperate mode, used her teeth to sink into the vampire's flesh. Eww, she cried in her thoughts.
A yowl pierced the air as Buffy stood to her feet, raising the stake. Shifting her right foot in position, her foot connected with the vampire's face, sending him reeling against a nearby limestone crypt.
