Return to The Howl of the Night Chapter Two



The Howl of the Night
CHAPTER THREE

Author: JkMack
Rating: NC-17
Copyright: Joss Whedon created the Buffy universe we all know. Thank you Mutant Enemy for not expanding the W/T relationship. I don't own anything here but the story idea and a few people I made up.


The day passed quickly or else to me it seemed. I awoke with the soft knock on my coffin that I didn't remember getting into. And since it was the basement dwelling you'd think I'd remember going down there.

Pushing on the lid I rubbed my eyes and looked about me. There was no one to be seen. The other coffins around me lay open and unoccupied. I stood up and cracked my back my tummy rumbling.

Treading around only in my Care Bears t-shirt I worked my way from the cellar up to the main level of the house. Trying not to draw attention to myself I made it to one of the two smaller bathrooms without being interrupted.

I took a quick shower and dressed in my usual attire but changing the white ruffle shirt to a white t-shirt instead. My bra visible since it was black. The air was chilly enough to prove my brain wasn't the only one erect and awake.

I let my hair air dry. There wasn't enough there to fuss over.

The house was deserted. Not a soul in sight, no pun intended. There was no one. They must all be at the meeting. But why wasn't I woken up? I shrugged. Didn't matter to me I guess.

The clank of my boots on the tile floor in the kitchen brought to the attention of the house dog Marcus. He was your usual tabby mutt, brown matted fur but with white paws and belly. He padded up to me and licked my cold hands.

"Hey there old boy." I cooed patting his head. He wagged his tail happily at the attention then as quickly as he came he turned around and trotted off to his floor bed.

I opened the white doors to the refrigerator and searched the contents inside. Picking up a pint size glass of chilled blood I downed it quickly. Cold blood will get you by, but it's like eating two weeks worth of leftovers.

Finally deciding I was done I grabbed my leather trench coat and slipped it over my narrow shoulders. I stuck my silver plated dagger in its sheath at my back. That was the only weapon I usually carried. Checking one last time I stepped out into the thriving streets of good old New York.


Continue to The Howl of the Night Chapter Four


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