It's Only The Beginning
I am so sorry for not updating, but somehow I’ve lost the will to continue this story but don’t worry I’m not stopping. Something had happened that forced me to stop writing. One of them was that my mother had torn all my reference material to all of my stories. Which included every singled planned out chapters.
This story had been completed, sitting on my desk… err floor and all I had to do was type it out. But as you can guess, I was too lazy to type out all the pages.
And now I have to start all over, because you can guess that I have no idea what I’m writing about. I have a vague idea what the plot is but alas… it was so long ago that… well… I’ve completely forgotten.
*Scratches head* I’ll figure it out somehow. Crawling Loneliness – It's Only The BeginningChapter Four
“It’s coming you know,” said a soft English accent.
Buffy frowned; this was getting to be way too predictable. “Let me guess,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The end of mankind is coming… Well if you hadn’t noticed. Been there, done that.”
A boy of fifteen stood before her and smiled sadly. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Buffy gave an un-lady like snort.
He grinned, his bright green eyes sparkling with laughter and she smiled suddenly, realizing that this boy’s life hadn’t had much to smile about.
And then they darkened and she wandered what had happened to cause such pain in those eyes.
His smile disappeared and in its place was a lost little boy. “I have to protect them.” He whispered softly, bravely.
Buffy’s features softened, she knew immediately what he meant. “Yeah, we gotta protect the ones we love.”
“But they won’t live.” He stated, as if he really believed it, his green eyes full of pain and bleakness. “And I don’t know what to do...”
Her eyes hardened. “You’ve gotta fight for your love ones, your friends, heck even your pet, cause they’re what keeps you going when all is lost.”
“And what if all that is loved, is lost?”
She remained silent for a moment and answered. “Then you’re better off dead, what would you have left if all is gone? Nothing.”
The boy smiled sadly again. “I thought so.”
“So what are you going to do?” she asked curiously.
“I fight and then I die.” He replied quietly.
She grinned. “Depends on how you die.”
He smiled that elusive smile again. “Yeah.”
Buffy wanted so much to reach out and hug him, he reminded her of Dawn, that smile that said she was dealing and that everything would be okay soon. But sometimes you just knew that everything wouldn’t be okay, not for a very long time.
“It’ll be soon though, it’s inevitable. Only one of us can live and with one of our deaths it will determine the fate of the world.”
She rolled her eyes again. “So kill him already.”
The boy chuckled and then the laughter was gone and all that was left were eyes of emptiness.
Buffy frowned and waved her hand in front of him. “Hello!” She said, trying to get his attention.
And then in a flash his eyes were glowing bright red and he was laughing. Evil, cold laughter, and Buffy felt the familiar tingling that was her spider sense, telling her that evil was close - very close.
The laughter, wild and crazy continued, unstopped, her surroundings grew darker, colder. And on and on it went.
“Stop it!” Buffy snapped but she knew he wouldn’t, she knew that it wasn’t the little boy anymore; she knew that he was gone and she felt her heart sink.
“Stop it!” she screamed.
And knew the boy was dead.
Buffy jerked awake, her eyes alert to any sudden movements but her mind was focused on something else. She’d had an other slayer dream and this one freaked her out, just like every other slayer dream she had.
She automatically pulled out her diary and began to write, her eyes gleaming with determination. She knew what her dream had been trying to say.
She had to save the boy.
Willow sat staring at the grassy plains spread endlessly out before her as she drank from the tea set in front of her. She liked the calm and the tea had somehow relaxed her, perhaps it was the herbs mixed in it, that gave the soothing taste and feeling, whatever it was, she was grateful for it.
She liked the peace and quite, where nothing could disturb her, where she wouldn’t have to face reality so much in it’s hard cruel form. Here she could forget and at least be at peace with herself. It was at moments like this that she never wanted to leave.
Willow smiled and drank her tea, she was so becoming like Giles. Next thing she'd know, she'd probably be speaking British talk.
The Ministry of Magic hall was still, silent, nothing moved, nothing twitched. A lifeless echo vibrated against the wooden panels. Darkness shrouded the hall; shadows lay where light should have shone brightly.
The usual bustle of activity was gone and in its place was a haunting clarity of nothingness.
Dumbledore and his men stood at the entrance from the floo area and knew something was wrong.
The smell of death hung in the air.
No one spoke as they moved further into the hall and only the wail of one of Dumbledor's men as he crumbled to the floor in a helpless heap - sobs racking his body, broke the silence.
Bodies lay scattered everywhere, blood pooled on marble floor, and sightless eyes seemed to stare at nothing.
And they knew they were too late - much too late.
A loud ring broke Willow from her reverie of calm and she twitched, a sense of dread clinging to her as she thought of who might be on the other end of the phone that was ringing loudly. She stood up slowly, hoping that if she was too slow in picking it up, the person might give up. No such luck, by the time she reached the phone, it was still ringing.
She picked up the handset. "Hello?" she asked tentively.
"Willow?" The familiar voice of Buffy asked, concerned. "Is everything alright?"
Willow closed her eyes and tried to smile, thus projecting a happy voice. "Yeah, everything’s going great!"
A moment of silence. "It's not isn't it?" Buffy said quietly, a hint of sadness flowing down the line.
She stiffened, tears already rolling down her cheeks, not bothering to reply.
"Willow... don't cry!" Buffy's husky voice exclaimed trembling, as if she knew what was happening and was reacting the same way.
"Buffy, I'm sorry!" She cried suddenly into the phone and sank to the floor, bringing her knees to her chest, sobbing softly.
"Oh Wills- don't do this!" Buffy cried as well, the sounds of sobbing coming down the line.
"I'm so sorry!" she repeated franticly as if she hadn't heard. "I didn't mean to do it, I didn't!"
"Wills, stop, please stop."
She stopped. Her shoulders shaking softly with her tears and she almost smiled as she realized that Buffy too, was crying into the phone. Buffy never cried, she was the strong one; she never let anything get her down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry." She sobbed quietly, having calmed slightly.
A hiccup and a chuckle. "Don't you dare be sorry."
Willow giggled softly. "Okay I'm sorry for daring to be sorry."
Buffy chuckled. "I know that Gile's said that you needed space to get better but something has happened and... and I'm coming over."
Willow straightened, her eyes wide with alarm. "What happened? Is it Dawn? Xander?"
"No, no, nothing's wrong over here at good old Sunnyhell - which is plain weird by the way," she added on hastily before continuing. "Its over there."
"What?" she asked confused and then disappointment colored her voice. "Your coming over because something bad is here not because of me?"
"No!" Buffy exclaimed shocked. "No it's not like that Wills, Giles wouldn't let us come over and now that something bad is happening over there, he'll have to let us come over, doesn't he?"
Willow grinned, seeing Buffy's reasoning. "Sounds very devious. " She teased.
"Doesn't it just?" Buffy giggled.
"You bringing everyone?"
Willow bubbled with excitement and then she deflated. "What if... what if they don't want to see me? What if when they don't want to see me, they won't come and then the big bad will be free to do with the killing and spilling of blood and all the gory things the big bad do? And then it will just be me, you and Giles and maybe it won't be enough, maybe we need Xander and Dawn for their.. for their... support and smart thinking... and we need them..."
"Wills!" Buffy cut in before her babbling got out of hand.
Willow stopped, flushing.
"Xander and Dawn are coming, Anya wanted to come too but she refused to close the shop and loose money. And Wills?"
"I missed your babbling."
Serverus stood impeccably straight, his entire being vibrating with a cold indifference as he stared sightlessly into the murky bottled potions lined in a straight line on his table.
The classroom appeared haunting and lifeless, a stark contrast to the bustling activity of students attending at the day. It was rare for anyone to come down during the night, other then that of Serverus whom had always preferred the silence to the noise, a cloaking loneliness that somehow suited him. But at that moment he found he hated the silence; it rang with a falseness that reminded him of the massacre at the Ministry Magic hall.
He hadn't known about the attack.
He was supposed to have been part of the inner circle of Voldemort's Death Eaters, he was supposed to be a brilliant spy, a man whose astuteness and cunningness enabled him to gather information to help his allies and yet… he hadn't known.
He knew that everything he had worked for, tried to redeem for, was for nothing.
Voldemort had known, and he suspected had always known about his true motives. The bastard had known his every move and plotted, giving him false information to feed to Dumbledore and thus misleading them.
He had been used and he had been used well.
A burning hatred for himself clawed inside him as he bent over, his eyes closing in pain. So many bodies... so many innocent lives and he hadn't been able to do anything because he hadn't known.
He refused to succumb to his weakness but his body shook betraying his churning emotions and found himself collapsing to the floor.
His knees jarred against the unyielding stone and pain shot up, throbbing in protest but he ignored it, it was what he deserved for his uselessness.
He remained still, trying desperately to think of something else, to gain control of his weak emotions but he knew it was useless.
The lump in his throat grew bigger and the heat of tears burned behind his eyes until they fell silently down his pale, sallow cheeks.
And for the first time in a long time, he cried. TBC...