319 lines
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319 lines
17 KiB
Plaintext
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
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OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
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OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #75 |
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|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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- Blood Lust 2« : Stalking Buffy -
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by Anonymous Bosch
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My plane had landed a bit early, so I guess I missed the limosine Caine had
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promised would be waiting for me. Which was fine by me, as the less
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interference I had to deal with the better. On my way out of the airport, I
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bought a newspaper and a roadmap at a kiosk, and made my way out into the
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humid air of Atlanta.
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Caine had asked me to come here to deal with a problem he'd been having
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with some of his operatives disappearing. Seems someone using the
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outrageous name of Buffy the Vampire Slayer had been stalking his
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employeees, and leaving oakwood stakes in their personal mailboxes shortly
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before their dissappearances.
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My job was to find this Buffy character, and put an end to her predations.
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Or something like that.
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Sitting on a park bench in one of the better parts of town, I began making
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marks on the roadmap I'd purchased. The homes of the employees in red, the
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places where their bodies had been found in green. Slowly, a pattern began
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to emerge. Whoever this Buffy was, she lived near the center of all those
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little marks, i was sure of it.
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I began my search by wandering the neighborhoods I thought it most likely
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for Buffy to dwell in. I kept my knives handy, out of sight in the sleeves
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of my windbreaker. I tried to look lost.
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My "lost tourist" look must have worked, because soon enough I found myself
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facing a trio of youths armed with an assortment of pipes and switchblades.
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They demanded money, not to play video games, but to go purchase a
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nintendo. I smiled at them, and assured them that they would not go
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unpunished for their life of crime.
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The largest one, presumably the leader, leered at me and swung his pipe. I
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heard it swoosh thru the air as I ducked under it and rammed one of my
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knives into his throat, while flicking my left hand to launch my other
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knife into the eyesocket of the youth behind me. The third manling took a
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step back as I drew my knife from the throat of his superior, and licked
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the bade. His response was pure bravado... I could see the terror creeping
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into his eyes. He drew himself down into a knife fighter's crouch, and
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began to toss his blade from hand to hand.
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We circled one another for a moment, and then he made his first lunge.
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Since my left hand was still free, I used it to catch his arm as his blade
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sailed past me, and bent his arm behind his back. I then used his own
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momentum against him, forcing him to the ground. As we fell, I twisted his
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own knife until it pointed into the small of his back, and our joint impact
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drove it home, severing his spinal cord.
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I picked myself up, and surveyed the carnage. I dragged my three entrees
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deeper into the alley, propping the knife artist up where he could watch me
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enjoy my grisly repast. I heard him vomit only twice... the first time when
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I scooped out his leader's eyes and ate them like devilled eggs, and the
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second time when I dished out the other youth's innards and began to lay
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them out on the pavement. Finally, my feeding nearly complete, I drew up
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close to him and looked deeply in his eyes.
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Using my recovered knife, I began to slowly cut away at his shirt,
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revealing his bare chest. He struggled a bit, but I used my greater
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strength to hold him still while I carved a happy face into his bare chest.
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Finally, I grabbed him by the hair and drew his head way back, exposing his
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neck. Eschewing my knives, I let my teeth sink deeply into his flesh,
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grinding them to cut my way thru the thick flesh & cartilage of his
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windpipe until I found his main artery and began to feed on the lifeforce
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there.
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As I fed, I heard footsteps behind me, followed by a muffled gagging sound.
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I quickly turned to see a lithe, blond haired valkyre garbed in black
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leather, wearing a bandoleir of wooden stakes over one sholder. It could
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only be Buffy, I thought.
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"Get away from him, you wretched vampire!" she cried.
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"You don't even begin to realize your peril, child," I chuckled, "for I am
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both more and less than that which you pretend to hunt.
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"I think you'll find me more than adequetely prepared for the likes of
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thee," she cried, as she quickly drew one of her stakes and hurled it in my
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direction. "Take that, foul vampire!"
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I let the stake fly true, and strike me in the heart. It mattered little...
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I was immune to death until every last erg of stored life energy within me
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was expended. I estimated that after 3 years of this existance, I could
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withstand a hundred or more of her stakes. Purely to bolster her
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confidence, I let myself fall backwards, gurgling in pain, when her weapon
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struck home. I wanted her closer, so much closer...
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I was twitching my legs and really making bad theater of the whole process
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when I heard her step closer and place her foot on my chest. It was a
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measure of my great personal restraint not to burst out laughing when she
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proclaimed to the scattered corpses in the alleyway: "I, Buffy, have rid
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the world of yet one more of the evil scourge called Vampires! Let the
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churchbells peal with the sound of righteousness!"
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I just couldn't take it anymore. Stupidity is one thing, bad (over)acting
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is another. Who does she thnk she is, William Shatner? I let my left hand
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curl once more around the handle of my knife, and swiftly reached up to
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slash her left calf.
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As she hopped backwards, clutching at the wound, I rolled over and smiled
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at her as I pulled out the stake. Allowing myself to get caught up in her
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delusions of theatre, I quoth: "Tis nobler to suffer the slings and stakes
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of outrageous Buffy...."
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"But... but... but... you're supposed to be dead! I staked you fair and
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square!" she cried, dancing in a little circle, clutching her injured calf.
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"Whoever told you life was fair was obviously trying to sell you something,
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my dear" I quipped back, as I rose to my feet and gathered up both my
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knives.
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Seeing that I was not, indeed, dead, Buffy fled the alleyway and dashed off
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into the night. While her black garb did much to hide her in the gloom, the
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tiny trail of blood she was leaving behind was rediculously simple to
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follow. At last it led me to an old brownstone, where the lights shone only
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on the topmost floor.
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I strolled my way around the building, looking for boltholes and finding
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none. Buffy obviously never thought of anyone following her home, or at
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least, she'd only bothered to trap the interior. I wandered my way into the
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backyard of the brownstone, where the nice grey telephone box awaited. I
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reached into my bag and drew forth the el-cheapo K-Mart special touchtone I
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carried with me on business trips, and plugged it into the first jack.
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It was dead. Jacks 2 & 3, however, revealed dialtones. Dialing a common
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linesmans test number, I scribbled down both of the numbers thus revealed.
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Calling the first only got me the high pitched whine of a modem, but
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calling the second got me a slightly breathless but easily recognisable
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Buffy...
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"Hiya Sweetums! Its me, your friend from the alley. You should really see a
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doctor about that cut, or it might scar" I quipped.
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"You bastard! You'll never get me in here! I have the whole place
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boobytrapped! Thermite charges, tripwires leading to shotguns, the works.
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You won't make it past the first floor, you bloodletting weirdo!"
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"Well, my love, maybe I won't have too. Talk to you soon!" I chuckled as I
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hung up the phone.
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Once I was sure she wasn't going to begin hurling things at me from the
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roof, I dialled 911 and spoke to the nice policeman who answered. I told
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him all about the crazy lady who dressed up like a B-Movie actress and who
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claimed to have all sorts of unlicenced weapons and explosives at such &
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such address. I also informed him that she was no doubt somehow involved in
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the string of "vampire stakings" that had been reported lately. He thanked
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me, and inside of an hour, I was bemused to see a pair of police cars draw
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up in front of the brownstone.
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I, of course, had taken refuge on the roof of a nearby building, the better
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to watch the festivities. Buffy had obviously pulled out all the stops,
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thinking that I would be the first one to come beating on her door. The
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first cop knocked on the door - his mistake. It shattered in a burst of
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flame, throwing the nice policeman halfway across the street, his uniform
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smoldering. I saw Buffy's head pop out of one window, cradling a crossbow
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in her arms... seeing the policemen, she gasped openly and ducked back
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inside.
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Within two minutes, the S.W.A.T. and Bomb Squads had arrived, along with a
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hundred or so other policemen. The street outside of Buffy's brownstone was
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a sea of red and blue flashing lights, I nearly fell out of my seat with
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laughter as they began to spread out through Buffy's building, deactivating
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her traps and confiscating her weapons. At last, a pair of officers led a
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bunny-slippered Buffy to a waiting squad car and drove her off into the
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night.
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Using my expense account, I took a nice room at one of Atlanta's finer
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hotels. Since the Lust was not truly upon me, I found it easy to blend in
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and enjoy some of the finer points of the nightlife there. I made it a
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point to follow Buffy's saga in the newspapers, who were truly having a
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field day with her claims of vampires stalking the night streets. Her trail
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was very brief... she was found not guilty by reason of insanity.
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Of course, nobody had counted on Buffy being as resourceful as she turned
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out to be. Within days of being confined to the local high-security mental
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institution, she escaped and made her way home to the old brwonstone where
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she used to live. How she knew I'd be waiting, I'll never know.
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She was plainly a sight to see. Still garbed in her hospital gown, her
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beautiful blonde hair seemed to float about her head like an angelic cloud.
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The look in her eyes was simply too delicious for words... caught somewhere
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between fear and madness, she shone with an inner light. She had lunged
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into what was once her bedroom and and had quickly punched a hole in the
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sheetrock wall, drawing forth a bundle of stakes. She turned like some
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tortured, captive animal when I chuckled at her from the corner of the
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room, letting my feet drop to the floor from their resting place on her
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dresser.
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"YOU!" she cried, her voice frantic with the fear of the hunter who has
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become the hunted.
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"Yes, Buffy, it is I, Mordecai. With all that has gone between us, I
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thought that we should at last be on a first name basis. Can you feel it in
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the air, Buffy? Great things are going to happen tonight."
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"You bet your sweet ass, vampire. You're going to DIE!" And with that, she
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lunged at me, a stake in both hands. I dodged her easily, as the
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hypertension driving her muscles made her prone to poor reflexes. My knives
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flashed, scoring cuts on both her cheeks.
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"First blood is mine, it would seem" I whispered, as her headlong rush
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ended itself with her toppling face-first over the foot of her bed. She
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rolled, coming to rest on her back, just as my leap brought me down upon
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her waist. A pair of quick slashes cut the tendons in her wrists, and her
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grip on the stakes loosened, letting them roll off the side of the bed.
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Her eyes were now like those of trapped animal. Sitting astride her hips, I
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brought my right hand up so I could lick the blade... and at that moment,
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my eyes caught sight of the full moon silloutted in the nearby window. As I
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drew the bloody steel across my tongue, the taste of it awakened me to the
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fullest. I smiled down at Buffy then, and something about the rapture in my
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eyes broke her resistance. She softened beneath me, her useless hands
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fumbling at my shirt in an effort to remove the garment. I brought my left
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knife up and under my shirt, and quickly cut the silken fabric away. I
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shrugged my way out of the remains of the shirt, as Buffy rubbed her
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bleeding wrists against me, coating me in a fine sheen of her blood.
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"Oh Buffy, I knew that you would understand...." I whispered, as I cut away
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at her hospital gown, revealing her body to the moonlight. She glistened
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like newly fallen snow. I slowly began to draw my knives along her arms,
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winding my way to her breast. Where the blades moved, they left behind deep
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red lines, and we both shuddered to the sound of her flesh parting. I began
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to work my artistry upon her body, and her moans worked counterpoint to my
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calling. At times, she herself would open those deep eyes of hers, and in a
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hoarse whisper suggest a change to this pattern or that one. Soon her
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chest, arms and face were a patchwork of bloody lines, and I rose from my
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sitting position to strip away the rest of her gown and the institutional
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panties below.
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I began with her right foot, carving a slow and steady spiral pattern into
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her leg. From time to time I would stop to lick the blood from an
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especially deep cut, as Buffy would not hold still. She kept beckoning me
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to cut her deeper, and deeper, as tiny shivers would shake her body the
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nearer I crept to her thighs. But I kept to my art, and cut no deeper than
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necessary to draw the required amount of blood. I did not want her dying on
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me before our dance had reached its cresendo. When I began to work my craft
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upon her left leg, i was careful to weave the scar I had made weeks before
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into the pattern that I wrought. I'd told her she should have had a doctor
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look at it, but she hadn't listened. Oh well, one works with the canvas one
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has, I guess.
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At last, Buffy was covered in my designs, except for her most private
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parts. I drew her legs up, and let her welcoming arms draw me upward and
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inward, until my blade was resting on the tip of her opening. With a mutual
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sigh, I let my blade sink deep within her vulva, twisting it when it met
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with resistance. Dark blood poured out of her like a dam breaking, and I
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nearly lost my balance when I leaned out over the edge of the bed to
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recover one of her stakes.
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The wooden stake she'd been carrying was about 24" long, and as thick as a
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man's forearm. I licked the tip of it, and then drove it home within her.
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She cried out then, a single pure note of pain and rapture. Her body
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arched, throwing droplets of blood everywhere like a dog shaking water from
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its back. I drew back on the stake, being carefull to keep a firm grip on
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it. Her body clearly did not wish to let it go... I could see her furrow
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her brows with her desire to keep the thick wooden shaft within her.
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Fighting against the suction within her, the stake finally came free in my
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hand. I set it aside as I dropped between her thighs and began to move
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within her myself, the feeling of her bloody and shredded inner walls
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sending powerful pulses of pleasure throught my body. Her breathing, too,
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began to make itself heard in rapid, panting gasps, until at last her body
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and mine convulsed together in a final, bloody cresendo. As the last
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vestiges of her orgasm began to subside, I looked one last time within her
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eyes, before driving her own stake deep into her chest, splintering the
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bone over her heart with a CRACK!.
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Hours later, on my flight back to Seattle, I fondled the other stake thru
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the fabric of my carry-on bag.
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I would remember Buffy with a smile....
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ú ùþ ú
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