Part 1

I suppose you're wondering why I chose a place with a name like 'Sunnydale' to settle down in. That is a good question, and it has a simple answer: the Hellmouth.

Sunnydale sits on the Hellmouth, or rather, the high school does but it has a rather harsh ripple effect.

This wasn't my first visit to Sunnydale. There's something about that place that always draws me back to it, no matter how far I wander and roam, and I have wandered and roamed anywhere and everywhere.

For the last two and a half centuries nearly all my time has spent in libraries around the world. The history books are amusing. It's nice to reminisce. Also, there are some things even I haven't witnessed. After all, I couldn't be everywhere an important event in history took place.

And, as is often the case, when the event in question occurs, no one really thinks it is an important event in history yet. At the time, it's just life. You react to it, adapt, and then move on.

Then later someone writes it down and everyone wonders why they never noticed it before.

Sorry, digressing again.

As I was saying, I was being drawn back to the Hellmouth. There was something in the air that felt…odd. And when a half-vampire says something is odd, then something is seriously wrong.

I remember when I first felt the pull.

I was in Oxford at the time, in the library, of course, reading. Then all at once, I couldn't focus on the words. And that never happens. Ever.

Everything got cloudy and distant. I thought for a moment it was from not feeding, but then all I could think of was the Hellmouth. No matter how many times I shoved the place from my mind, it kept creeping back in.

I don't have fond memories of the Hellmouth. That place is just…unnatural. But who am I to judge?

Although, the last time I was there, I had been walking around a pond after a recent rain, and I was just watching the ducks when…well, to put it simply, they exploded. All except one, and that was just because it was busy trailing me, quacking for bread.

As it turns out, a novice witch had been trying to kill the rival football team, but miscalculated the coordinates and targeted the duck pond.

Like I said, I don't have fond memories of the Hellmouth.

Still, one just can't ignore the obvious. And it was obvious that I had to back to Sunnydale, as much as I didn't want to.

I didn't have a good feeling about going back, either. Whatever was drawing me back in would no doubt be drawing other far more unfriendly and dangerous things to that town as well. It's not like we all get along, either.

Most vampires look on me with disdain, and humans naturally don't like me if they know what I am.

I would have to keep a low profile until I knew what was going on. Color me curious, but I wanted to know what was going on to create such disturbances so far away. It couldn't be good, whatever it was, but I wanted to know the worst.

Serves me right for wanting to know.

The first day of school is…awkward, to say the very least. For me, at least. The first day, you're immediately noticed and singled out because you're new, then, in my case, because you're different, but eventually, if you don't say anything and don't look at anyone in the eye, they forget about you soon enough.

I suppose I look different. I don't really know. No reflection, and all that. I know I'm pale, what with never going out in the sun and all, and I know I have long black hair, that's pretty obvious, but I couldn't say if my face is any different from anyone else's.

I know I don't look like other vampires when they show their 'true' faces, but…it's hard to pinpoint exactly what else it is that attracts attention. I don't have fangs protruding all the time, and I try to dress normally.

I'll confess I'm a bit out of touch with fashion. I just wear whatever's comfortable. Even if it is a little old.

Anyway, I knew to find out what was going on, I would need to go right to the source, as it were. The high school. The location of the Hellmouth.

So I dutifully enrolled after I hired someone to pose as my father. This may shock you but it's honestly not that hard to do. I hired a homeless guy to be my father. Got him cleaned up, gave him a wad of cash, told him to enroll me in school, and then sent him on his merry way. He was too surprised and happy to be suspicious.

I decided to go in as a junior. If need be, I can pass for as young as fifteen, but I've been told by reliable sources I can't convince anyone I'm over twenty. I guess that's an okay age to be stuck in, though I'm not sure why my body decided to stop aging past there.

In spite of what anyone tells you, it's not fun to be stuck in this age. It's most inconvenient. Whoever you are, reading this right now, I could be your grandmother at least fifteen times over. So naturally I get tired of being treated like a child from people who are a fraction of my age.

Sorry, got off on a tangent.

Anyway, that first day was stressful.

There I was, me and my little backpack, walking down the sidewalk towards the school, which was already crowded over with youths.

As of late, in the various high schools I've been to (I go once ever ten years or so just to see what they're teaching the future of the world…it's a bit sad) I've noticed that social structure has stopped changing.

I was already seeing groups of various genres of young people.

There were the popular children: females with bright, clean smiles and overly bouncy bits that attracted the equally as pretty males, who flocked around them in eager packs. I could smell the oversaturation of hormones in the air wafting towards me from them. It nearly choked me.

I should mention I'm not terribly romantic.

Not that there's any romance there. Just lust.

Anyway, you had them, then you had the two variant of smart children: the naturally smart ones together in frightened packs of four and five, looking at the pretty girls with wistful longing and whispers of desire passed between them. Then there were the smart kids who had worked especially hard to be smart and tried to cling to the naturally smart ones, but were only partially accepted.

Poor little mites.

The jocks were moving in on the other popular children already.

Then you had the collections of childhood friends, chatting, laughing, playfully shoving, and giggling nervously everywhere.

And of course there were the rebels, glaring at anyone and everyone.

The outcast individuals, or the new singles, like me, stood uncertainly amongst the clangor and looked around in dismay and confusion.

It was a madhouse. And we weren't even inside yet.

I felt grateful for the hood. It muffled at least some of the noise. Having heightened hearing isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know.

The sun was glaringly bright, so I had thrown pride to the wind and actually bought a pair of sunglasses, and I had a pair of fingerless gloves to cover most of my hands for when I couldn't put them in my pockets, like now.

I tried to maneuver my way throw the oppressive, pulsing crowd. So many voices all right in my ear. It was giving me a headache, and that made me annoyed. The day was not starting out well. In fact I came very close to just turning around and leaving Sunnydale and the Hellmouth to whatever nefarious deeds were going to occur.

Fortunately, these tempting thoughts were interrupted.

"'Scuse me, pardon me-" a voice was calling out, but I thought it was just someone being impatient, so I ignored it.

"Move!" the voice shouted, suddenly right beside me, and that's when a body slammed into me.

I stumbled over a few steps, but being so tightly packed into a crowd kept me from completely falling over. The one who had crashed into me, however, was not so fortunate.

I looked over and down, and realized the lad had been on a skateboard, he was sprawled on the ground, the skateboard on its side, and he was sitting up.

"You okay?" he asked, looking up at me.

I gave him a terse nod, hesitated, and then reluctantly offered my hand.

"Thanks." He gave a boyish grin, grabbed my hand, and I lifted him to his feet. He was actually pretty light, even though he was ridiculously taller than I was.

"Sorry about that." He continued once he was on his feet and the skateboard was restored to him. I nodded again.

"I'm Xander, by the way." He added.

I nodded one last time, then moved away from him.

Yes, that is rather rude, but I wasn't there to make friends. I was there to get answers. Establishing a relationship with anyone, even on strictly an acquaintance level, was unwise. At least, that's how I thought at the time.

"Yeah well, great meeting you too!" he called after me. I heard the wheels on his skateboard wheel away, only to be interrupted again, this time accompanied by the sharp ring of metal connecting with soft flesh.

I turned and looked over my shoulder at the boy, Xander. He'd collided with a rail this time, and I think I saw the object of his distraction: a gorgeous, young, blond girl. She didn't seem to realize the accident she just caused.

A small, petite girl with long auburn hair stepped over him with a smile. She knew him.

"Willow!" he called up to her, "You're so very much the person I wanted to see!"

I couldn't help but smirk as I turned away. Easily distracted by a pretty face, that one.

I heard him request help for math homework, and I heard her agree before I tuned them out and focused on the school again.

The muscles in my shoulders and back were tensing with dread, I could feel.

"Here we go again." I whispered to myself.

"Into the mouth of Hell."

I'm fairly certain that's what most youths think when they go to school.