The following is a work of erotic fiction and includes scenes of sexual activity. It includes characters that are copyrighted by Josh Whedon and Mutant Enemy. This story is intended for the non-commercial enjoyment of fans and should be considered a parody. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit will be made from the distribution of this story.
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In every generation, there is a Chosen One. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer.
Or so it has been for so many generations as to become the stuff of legends. Until the mantle of the Chosen One fell up a young California High girl named Buffy Summers. Unlike those who came before her, Buffy refused to live the life of a solitary warrior, relying on friends to aid her in the never-ending fight. A difference that proved to have far-reaching and previously unimagined effects.
When Buffy Summers fell in battle, as all Slayers before her had done, the mystic call had gone out for another to take her place. But then, since Buffy had not been alone when she fell, her friends were able to bring her back from clinical death. So, for the first time in history, two young women now carried the title - Vampire Slayer.
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The dark cloak of night had long overtaken the warmth of day as two young women moved silently through the graveyard. Leading the way was a blonde-haired girl; her long hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in simple denim jacket, black jeans and a sleeveless white T-shirt. Using hand signals, she showed her companion which path she was planning to take toward their destination. Not waiting for an acknowledgment, the slim, athletically-built, girl leapt over a wide tombstone and raced toward the large mausoleum a few hundred yards ahead.
There were a dozen cemeteries in the town of Sunnydale, and each as familiar to the Slayer as her own backyard. For a town of Sunnydale's size, the number of graveyards might seem excessive to a casual observer, but the small community was far from ordinary. It was built a century before over the Hellmouth, an entrance to the underworld and a center of demonic activity.
Her companion, dark-haired and dressed in similar clothing, if of a darker shade, waited a few seconds and then headed for the tall structure as well. Using a different path, she stealthily came up from the opposite direction. Nearing the open space in front of the iron gated entrance, she saw a large group of men and women standing in front of it.
Or what appeared to be men and women, for in her heart she knew them to be dark reflections of the people whose bodies they now possessed. Soulless demons that had risen from the grave, draining the blood of the living for sustenance, adding some of their victims to their number. It was to combat such evil that she had been born.
Long before she had received her mystic call, and the powers it had imparted within her, she had been training for her destiny. Taken from her family home in Jamaica at an early age, the light-brown skinned girl had raised with only one goal in mind - to be the Slayer. A destiny that she had been taught would require her to forsake all aspects of a normal life.
It was that single-minded dedication that caused Kendra, for that was the only name she had ever known, to have such difficulty understanding this one called Buffy. During her years of training, she had studied the lives of those who came before her. From the primitive who was the first, to the Slayer who had preceded Buffy Summers. They had all given themselves fully to the life, accepting the wise advice of the Council of Watchers. Yet, time and again, Buffy insisted on defying their orders. This was not the life of a Slayer as it had been taught to her.
Even more, the American had grown up with her family by her side, and when the gift of her powers had been made known to her, she had tried to deny them. Then, after finally taking up the role she had been born to, Buffy had disregarded the first rule of a Slayer, that of secrecy. Almost from the beginning, she had involved those she called friends in her mission.
Much as she had pondered the discrepancies in the weeks since she had met her still living predecessor, those were questions to be put aside for now. The small grouping in front of her had become aware of her presence and now turned in her direction.
Following their previously agreed upon plan, Kendra stood up from behind the headstone that had temporarily concealed her from the vampire nest and stepped out into the open. As expected, all eyes turned in her direction.
"Who the hell are you?" the tallest of the figures closest to her, who in life had been George Wilson, called out.
"I'll tell you who she is," the shade of Michael Smith, standing at the other end of the semi-circle, said as his features morphed into his game face, "she's dinner. I do so love it when they deliver."
"I am Kendra," the mocha skinned girl said without fear as she lifted a sharply pointed wooden stake in her hand, "de vampire Slayer."
"Yeah, right," the first vampire laughed, a reaction echoed by the rest of the ensemble, "and I'm Count Dracula."
Taking advantage of their distraction, Kendra surged forward and, with a rapid motion almost too quick to follow, drove her stake into the chest of the laughing demon. There was just enough time for George Wilson's face to fill with a look of surprise before his entire body collapsed into a pile of finely ground dust. A pile that was quickly carried away by the blowing breeze.
"God damn you, bitch!" Michael Smith cried out as he watched his associate die a second death, ignoring the absurdity of a spawn of hell calling on the Deity to curse someone.
"I think she might be for real, Mike," a red-haired female vampire said from the back of the pack.
The remaining vampires took a step back, moving to form a wide circle around Kendra, keeping a respectable distance from her and the deadly tool in her hand. Her senses fully on alert to any sudden moment they might make, the dark-haired girl kept herself moving as to keep all of them in view.
"You know, I'm actually glad to meet you, Slayer," Smith said with a grinning laugh as a realization caused his anger to abate, "I really am. Cause according to the legend, just the fact that you're here means that Buffy bitch is feeding the worms somewhere. And I for one am not sorry to see her go, only that I wasn't the one that got to plant her."
"Then I think you're going to be doubly disappointed," a voice said from behind the vampire as he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest, "because the legend's been rewritten."
He just had time to look down and see a wooden arrow sticking from his torso. Then, in less time than it would've taken his heart to beat, if it did beat, he became dust in the wind as his compatriot had done a minute before.
"Two Slayers?" another of the female vampires, a dark skinned girl named Tanya, asked in confusion as the remaining demons turned to look at the new arrival.
"... no waiting." Buffy answered, completing a phrase that had become almost a litany these last few weeks.
Buffy dropped the now empty crossbow and did a barrel roll that brought her to Kendra's side. Continuing the fluid motion, she rose to her feet, drawing a wooden stake from beneath her jacket. A powerful kick into the chest of the closest vamp sent him hurdling into a tall stone obelisk, stunning him long enough for her to dispatch the surprised demon with a quick thrust.
Kendra followed her lead, lashing out at the closest vampire as well, reducing her to ashes after knocking her to the ground with a blinding series of powerful punches.
Of the original group, almost a third were already gone.
Odds of more than four to one, especially with the element of surprise exhausted, might seem overwhelming, but neither Slayer showed any signs of fear. They covered each other's backs as the remaining vamps circled around them.
The clock ticked slowly as both Slayers and the remaining members of the nest took stock of the situation, each gauging their chances of success in the coming battle. Tension hung in the air like a tangible thing, until an unexpected voice broke it.
