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Low Red Moon

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This story is No. 2 in the series "Southern Gothic". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: Buffy wasn’t the only one out hunting that night. Written for prompt: "There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." FFA pairing Buffy/Alcide

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Southern Vampire Mysteries(Past Donor)akatFR1511,1061142,19417 Oct 1017 Oct 10Yes
Summary: Buffy wasn’t the only one out hunting that night.
Disclaimer: Neither BtVS nor Southern Vampires Mysteries/True Blood belong to me.
A/N: Another submission for the Halloween Challenge over at The Rooftop for the prompt "There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls." Takes place after BtVS Season 7 and Book 2 of SVM.


All images obtained from photobucket. The quote is from George Carlin.


The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie light on the forest, which had gone completely silent. The wolves of the Long Tooth Pack stepped into a small clearing and paused, sniffing the air cautiously.

Something was wrong; something was out in the forest, hunting. She was there; they would have to take care to avoid her. If they didn’t, it would be the death of them.


Buffy crouched down on the ground, studying the tracks in the dirt. Bingo. One creature feature coming up. And the best part was that it didn’t take too long to find her target. After all, this was supposed to be her night off, being Halloween and all – or so the myth went anyway. After years of fighting baddies on this night, she was beginning to think the joke was on her.

“No rest for the weary,” she sighed.

Not that she really minded. Her current honey was ‘occupied’ tonight, thanks to the full moon, and she was antsy. It had been a really long time since she’d had a good slay, the vamps around here being ‘good’ and all. Talk about annoying.

Just then, her spidey sense went off the charts. A second later, she heard a rustle in the nearby bushes. She tightened her grip on the scythe, her body tensed and ready for action. Show time.


Alcide froze as he heard the distinct yet distant sounds of a struggle. It was her - well, her and whoever had been unfortunate enough to cross her path.

By silent agreement, the wolves began to slink away one by one, intent on avoiding detection. Alcide followed suit, falling in line behind his father.

Then the wind shifted, and he caught a faint scent in the air – one that was achingly familiar. It was soon followed by the smell of blood and a cry of pain.

His heart gave a leap of fear. It couldn’t be. She said she was going to have a quiet night in with popcorn and old movies. Her scent was unmistakable, however. She was here. And she was hurt.

He should’ve known she wouldn’t sit idly by, not after she heard about the attack on that girl. The problem was, she didn’t stand a chance against a maenad.

Ignoring the growl of warning from the packmaster - and consequently risking everything - Alcide took off into the woods, desperately hoping he wasn’t too late.


So this is what dying feels like, Buffy mused as she lay on the ground, trying her best to manage the agonizing pain that was ripping through her.

This was her worst death by far. The first two times, it was quick with no time to really think about it. Now, however, she had plenty of time to feel the gaping wounds that tore her stomach open, as well as the poison as it quickly worked its way through her system.

The stupid maenad could’ve at least had the decency to finish her off.

And wasn’t her life supposed to be flashing by her eyes by now? All she could think of, however, was that Alcide was going to be so pissed at her. Then again, maybe that wasn’t too surprising, since he was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time.

They hadn’t been dating for all that long, but the connection was there; both between the werewolf and Slayer and the man and woman. They both knew it, and for the first time in what had to be the crappiest track record of relationships, she hadn’t run from it.

Despite her current situation – i.e. her impending death - Buffy couldn’t help smiling as she remembered the first time they met… total sparkage. It didn’t hurt that Alcide was naked, having just transformed from his wolf form.

A soft sigh escaped from her. The pain wasn’t so bad now. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. She involuntarily tensed as she heard the sound of someone approaching.

With a frown, she turned toward the noise. Even as she did, her vision started to dim. It was too bad. She was curious to see who – or what – was coming toward her.


Blood. All Alcide could smell was her blood. There was so much of it; it stained the air. Knowing he was too late but unable to let go of hope, he raced toward the smell, toward her, blind and deaf to all his surroundings, focusing only on her.

Which was why he was completely blindsided by the sight before him.

Buffy was on the ground, badly mauled in a pool of her own blood. The scent of the maenad and her poison was all around her, and she had no discernable heartbeat. That wasn’t the worst part, however.

Eric, the Sheriff of Area Five, was bent over her, his blood flowing from his arm into her mouth.

The pair was silhouetted in the moonlight, presenting a picture as obscene as it was striking. It was an image that would forever be burned into his mind.

The arrogant vampire didn’t even bother acknowledging his presence; he kept his focus on Buffy.

Alcide’s upper lip curled, a snarl emanating from deep within his wolf body. Logically, he knew that Eric was doing the only thing he could to ‘save’ her. The wounds from the maenad were too severe; not even Buffy’s Slayer healing or Eric’s blood could heal her, keep her alive.

Still, both the man and the wolf inside him were enraged.

Eric had always shown more interest in Buffy than Alcide liked. Buffy had laughed it off, making jokes about some ‘Team Edward’ and ‘Team Jacob’, but he knew better. The fact that the vampire was here this exact moment was proof of that. And now he was tying her to him forever, making her one of them.

Alcide could taste the bitterness in his mouth. There was nothing he could do to stop it; not now. He just stood by helplessly and watched, unable to unleash the howl of anguish he felt within.

It was happening so quickly and yet at the same time it seemed to take forever. He was vaguely aware that the rest of his pack joined him at some point. Like him, they quietly watched the event unfolding before them.

The silence was deafening.

Alcide found that he was filled with both anticipation and dread. Who would awaken? Buffy the Slayer, Buffy the Vampire, or something much more terrifying?

He would find out soon enough.


The End

You have reached the end of "Low Red Moon". This story is complete.

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