Silver Light And Silver Blade by septentrion
Summary: Buffy is chasing a monster on Christmas night.
Categories: Buffy Vampire Slayer and Angel Characters: Buffy S.
Genres: Mystery/suspense
Warnings: Violence
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes Word count: 389 Read: 844 Published: 12/24/2007 Updated: 12/26/2007

1. One-shot by septentrion

One-shot by septentrion
This was written for adventdrabble.

Thanks to Dacian Goddess for her invaluable help with canon!Buffy.

As usual, I make no money with my fanfiction.


The bells called to the midnight mass in the distance. Buffy heard them but made a point not to pay heed to their call; yet, she could have done with some respite and contemplation. No, not tonight. She was on duty tonight. A werewolf had been turned into a vampire the night before, and a double monster would be roaming Sunnydale’s streets tonight.

A shadow moved along the park’s edge further down the street. How strange that the monster could only be killed by silver, while only the silvery light of the full moon could bring it to life.

The werewolf growled; it had smelled her. Slowly, the Slayer pulled out of its sheath the silver sword she had taken along on patrol tonight. The moonlight reflected on the smooth surface of the blade, giving it an eerie glint that caught the beast’s eye. It recognised a mortal enemy and took flight across the park. At once, Buffy climbed over the park fence and chased it. It led her through well-kept lawns and sandboxes, around copses of trees and swings, down dales and up slopes. The Slayer took no notice of her path; she could only guess the back of her prey and hear her blood roaring in her ears. The werewolf was fast and had stamina.

At long last, Buffy caught up with it. They fought hand to paw, ruthlessly. The sword had fallen on the ground with the clash of their bodies, but their minds set to kill the other. Clothes were ripped and fur was torn; blood was shed and tainted the whitish snow under them. Their fight was furious, intense, but in the end, the Slayer managed to get some leeway and stooped down to pick up her sword. She turned her wrist, and the blade swish was deafening in the silence of the holy night. When the monster’s head fell down, showering her in its blood, the church bells, nearer than she had thought, announced the end of the mass that celebrated the birth of a child. At her feet, the werewolf’s corpse turned into a vampire, into dust.
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