She knew it was a dream. She's had it every night since... then. But she couldn't stop it. She could never stop it.


Blood splattered on their faces, the light in their eyes dying if not already gone.

All because of her.

All of them dead, all of them gone, all because of her.

All except Xander.

He stod there, yellow eyes flashing, a smirk on his lips, blood staining his teeth.

Buffy's blood, Miss Calender's blood, Oz's blood...

There was so much blood.

All because of her.

Encased in black leather, and red ends, she was a vampire, and she was evil, and she couldn't stop it no matter how hard she tried.


She always woke up from the dream, less rested then before she went to bed. Sleep never helped, and she always went back there.

It was the only she could deal.