Thrusting the stake into the heart of the latest vampire to think he could take down a Slayer, Buffy stepped back as the creature of the night exploded into a cloud of dust. At least this one wasn’t someone she’d known, or at least she didn’t think so. Probably from out of town. The Hellmouth drew vampires, and other monsters, like bears to honey… or was it bees to honey? Like so many sayings, Buffy could never quite get it straight in her head. There was too much else in there, useless clutter, schoolwork and stuff.

Sighing, she dusted herself off. Slaying vampires was a whole lot tidier than slaying demons, there was no blood, slime, or other disgusting fluids, but the dust went everywhere, tiny bits of dead vampire floating in the air, and while it was inert and totally harmless, it still seemed kinda gross to breathe it in, or swallow it.

Good thing that vamp dust didn’t turn people into vamps, only their blood could do that, but still… it was in her hair, all over her clothes, in her eyes, blowing on the breeze, fine but gritty. She was taking a shower when she got home.


The End