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sweetandshortTitle: Death is a Gift That Can Be Returned
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Buffy Summers
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 264
Prompt: Sacrifice
Summary: Buffy comes back to life.
One moment, she can perceive soft light all around her. No pain. No fear.
The next, she is surrounded by darkness and unable to breathe.
Breathe? Why is that important?
The fear floods in and makes her heart race.
She moves a hand, encounters what feels like wood. She traces it. Not much room.
She wonders if her Slayer powers are still active. If she still has the strength she had before.
She curls her hand into a fist and punches upward.
It hurts but she makes enough of an impact to create a small hole.
Dirt falls on her skin. She flicks it off and concentrates on the task at hand.
This is Sunnydale, she reasons. The dead rise from the graves here all the time, it can't be that hard to get out.
She thinks about what she lost and punches again. The wood splinters around her hand.
Death is your gift, she thinks and claws away at the wood.
Death is your gift. The mantra goes through her head as her nails break and her knuckles split as she makes progress.
Death is your gift. She gave the ultimate sacrifice and for what?
When she finally breaks through the earth and feels the cool night air against her skin where there once was warmth, she feels no relief, only revulsion at the life she is forced to live once again.
She begins to laugh, a little hysterically as she wonders if the First Slayer knew that Death was a gift that could be returned.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character: Buffy Summers
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 264
Prompt: Sacrifice
Summary: Buffy comes back to life.
One moment, she can perceive soft light all around her. No pain. No fear.
The next, she is surrounded by darkness and unable to breathe.
Breathe? Why is that important?
The fear floods in and makes her heart race.
She moves a hand, encounters what feels like wood. She traces it. Not much room.
She wonders if her Slayer powers are still active. If she still has the strength she had before.
She curls her hand into a fist and punches upward.
It hurts but she makes enough of an impact to create a small hole.
Dirt falls on her skin. She flicks it off and concentrates on the task at hand.
This is Sunnydale, she reasons. The dead rise from the graves here all the time, it can't be that hard to get out.
She thinks about what she lost and punches again. The wood splinters around her hand.
Death is your gift, she thinks and claws away at the wood.
Death is your gift. The mantra goes through her head as her nails break and her knuckles split as she makes progress.
Death is your gift. She gave the ultimate sacrifice and for what?
When she finally breaks through the earth and feels the cool night air against her skin where there once was warmth, she feels no relief, only revulsion at the life she is forced to live once again.
She begins to laugh, a little hysterically as she wonders if the First Slayer knew that Death was a gift that could be returned.
no subject
Date: 2024-03-15 10:00 am (UTC)Makes your heart break for her.
Powerful closing line, loved it.
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2024-03-15 11:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2024-03-16 02:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
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