* * * * * * *

In the year 2038, the world as we know it, died.

A popular American journalist by the name of Barbra O’Connell filmed a television broadcast that exposed humans to the Demon world. She was doing the live coverage of the last white tiger giving birth to her cubs, but instead, stumbled onto a cave of demons. The world witnessed her brutal death as she was eaten by four Kilthros, creatures of particular ugliness. They fed on her nerves and cartilage while she screamed for aid. Although the Government claimed it was a fluke, the rush for information on the supernatural caused incredible surges in magic. Numerous deaths occurred in the next two years due to misinformation and curiosity. At the end of the third year, news papers were so filled with fantastic obituaries that the United States could deny it no longer. They were the first country to acknowledge magic, and under the conservative rule, they banished it forever. The fear instilled in the country was equivalent to the McCarthy Era of accusations and convictions. Books were burned and people died unjustly. The Wicca and harmless demons fled to South America, and the non magical went north. Magic soon grouped into demonic areas of activation, leaving America dry as a desert. Europe soon followed in America’s footsteps.

The Demons demanded justice, and with our powerlessness, the world sacrificed Africa to them. It was the greatest migration ever seen, as creatures flew, swam, and dove into Africa for their share of the glory. At first, they were satisfied. However, in the year 2069, they invaded the Middle East, and then Asia. America sent boats to Europe and ferried as many humans as they could. By November of '72, the demons were in western Russia. And in February of '73, America bombed Russia, closest to the Bering Strait. The eighty mile width soon expanded to two hundred and the Americas closed their borders. The monsters that remained on American soil were killed or killed others. Witches were imprisoned. And people tried to forget.

At least until 2144. A demon politely knocked through the barrier with thirty vampires by his side. The conservatives met with him because he promised that he would keep every demon from our border and the death of every one within. Only give him California. And we did. He placed the demons in a small town, where they were kept wild but contained. The townspeople wore crosses and surrounded themselves with graveyards and big families.

The demon was D’Hoffryn. The monsters were for his Circus.

* * * * * * *

“Ten minutes!”

“Fuck!”

“Can someone hand me the eyeliner?”

“Shit, where is my lipstick?”

“Has anybody seen my shirt?”

“Have you checked in the back?”

“They said it was here.”

“But you do know that she washed it the other day.”

“Lipstick people, lipstick!”

“Why can’t you use mine?”

“I would look like an albino on stage!”

“I found my shirt!”

“W-where are my shoes? Has anyone seen my shoes?”

“Hey, have you seen my—”

“NO!”

“Never mind, I found it.”

“Your shoes are in the closet.”

“Oh, n-never mind then.”

“My favorite god damn lipstick.”

“My hair looks like shit.”

“Why don’t you go in there?”

“And my vest is wrinkled.”

“Anya and Xander are...”

“What?”

“Copulating.”

“Eww! On my lipstick?”

“No, on my shoes.”

“Tell them five minutes until the show starts!”

“Anya, quit giving Xander—”

“No details please!”

“How do you know that a-anyways?”

“Well, when Xander and I—”

“Don’t answer!”

“And Tara’s turning red.”

“Sorry honey. How can I make it up to you?”

“By finding my shoes.”

“No dice. Lipstick. Lipstick... Hello honey.”

“Ok, you two need a closet.”

“So says the people who just got out.”

“Xander, your eyes only glaze over for me. Not for the lesbian lovers.”

“Sorry, Ahn.”

“Sorry.”

“Have you seen my... are you using my lipstick?”

“You mean this?”

“Yes! Where did you find it?”

“In a shoe.”

“Jonathon! What are you doing in here?”

“Listen up everyone! Willow, Tara, you are on in two. Xander, Anya, you need to be ready in five, and for god’s sake, can you stop kissing long enough to not smear your makeup? Rhetorical question, Anya. Is that a new bra? Just kidding! Don’t hit me! You have thirty minutes, when you are ready, come and find me. Buffy, the vamps are at it again. You need to get them calm and ready in twenty minutes to be on stage in forty. Everybody good? No? Too bad.”

The cue was Jonathon’s ‘bad’. The moment the word was uttered, then the real race began. Tara found her shoe. Willow cherished her ‘passion rose’ lipstick and Xander wiped off the lip gloss while Anya put some on. But out of all the people, none moved faster than Buffy, who flew out of the room and into the hallway; where bustling people found that it was less painful to throw themselves against the wall than to be thrown by someone else.

She ran as fast as she could, feeling her heart beat faster with every step. Down the stairs, from passage to passage, and then finally where the trailers resided, behind the public. Buffy could faintly hear the banging sounds of bodies being thrown against steel bars, and the sound only made her run faster. When she reached the flap to the final secluded tent, she dived in only to see a body being tossed across the cage.

Buffy didn’t have a moment to consider what she was doing. She pressed her hand against the handprint sensory lock. It seemed like ten years before the lock clicked, she could almost feel the effects of their punches and she could definitely smell the blood. But the moment it unlocked, she ran into the middle of the brawl.

A normal person would have died in that cage but Buffy had the ability to tuck, roll, smack her head and receive something like a mild concussion. Buffy shook her bruised mind, and then propelled herself off the walls of the cage. She smacked her body on the attacker’s and threw the two onto the floor, away from the corner. Buffy then wedged herself between the two and with a strength that belied her size; she pushed the two attackers to opposite sides of the cage.

Luck had it that both the boys knocked their heads on the bars. But Buffy’s happiness dissipated the moment she saw her folly. The cage door automatically closes, but it let one of the four vampires through. Drusilla.

“Shit.”

Buffy opened the cage door again, but not before she tied and gagged the three remaining vampires. One of whom objected adamantly that she had nothing to do with the fight. Somehow, Buffy didn’t believe her.

Buffy found a speaker, which got her in immediate touch with Jonathon. She looked at her watch, swore again, but knew in a strange warped way, that this was good. His speaker would be open and he would be searching for her.

“Jonathon.”

“Buffy, where are you? Giles is giving me angry looks whenever he’s out of the spotlight. What is going on?”

“Dru got out.”

“Oh god.”

“Yeah.”

“What am I going to do? You are on now! And Giles will kill me! With a gun! Or a sword! Oh my god, he’s going to gut me!”

Buffy heard his breathing increase and now he was panting. She swore in her mind, not at him. He was going to hyperventilate if she didn’t do something quickly. And if Jonathon went out, then all was doomed. No one could handle the stage like he could. Then again, no one could handle overstressed like he could either.

“Jonathon. Listen to my voice, and take a deep breath.”

“Huuuuuuuuuuh! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Good, who do you have on now?”

“Giles, then you are supposed to go on. After you are the witches, doing the stories act.” Buffy could hear his inhaler going in and out.

“Tell Giles to do the extension, the hero epilogue. That will give Tara and Willow some time to prepare for their act. Then put Anya out, if I am still not back yet.”

“She isn’t going to like that. She hates being last.”

“Tell her to deal. I need to find Drusilla and keep your airways open.”

“Do you need backup? I could send Xander.”

“I need for Xander to do his comedy routine while I cover my bruises. Especially if she gives me real trouble.”

“Do you think she will?”

“Always does.”

Buffy let go of the button and heard the crackle of cheering in the background, then silence. Jonathon would take care of anything. He was deathly loyal to her but his loyalty was often overcome by his fear of the things that go bump in the night. She turned around to be faced with three gagged vampires.

She reached behind the speaker and opened a compartment box, filled with first aid, tranquilizer, guns, and handcuffs. Buffy scoffed at the guns, but took the handcuffs and tranquilizer.

Great, she thought. I will have to get them cleaned up before I get them out on stage.

* * * * * *

It scared her more that she couldn’t find Dru. If the vampire had been surrounded by twenty dead children and fifty mutilated adults, she wouldn’t have been surprised. But there were no children, no adults, and no screams, which meant she didn’t know where the girl was or what she was doing. There was nothing but happy faces running around the night field. Buffy’s only advantage was that Drusilla was dressed in nineteenth century clothing verses the modern rustic wear. The disadvantages were too numerous to count.

When Buffy got to the center of the circus, she closed her eyes and felt all the things going on around her. She felt the dogs barking, the children laughing, the food cooking, and the demons running around her. She concentrated on the demons in masses, blocking out all the rest. But she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t separate one demon from a human. She just felt them, as a mass, all in concentrated areas behind her...until one was right on top of her. Preparing to strike.

Buffy looked up and her arm went out.

Block.

“Dru. Come with me.”

“Nasty little slayer,” she hissed and took her hand away from Buffy’s arm. She started to wave back and forth like a predatory snake. Slowly, she circled the girl, waiting for the right moment to attack, “Always spoiling Miss Edith’s fun.”

“Dru—”

“Bad little blondie.”

She shook her head, “Sure, I didn’t try to compromise but you are a vamp. Who are you going to tell?”

The girls circled and circled one another. Then in one swift movement, Buffy ran as fast as she could, towards Drusilla. The vampire moved to the side but Buffy was prepared, she jumped forward, grabbed Dru’s arm and pulled both of them into an empty tent. While they rolled to a stop on top of an empty stage, Buffy cuffed Dru to her own body. She was cut up from the vampire’s nails scratching deep welts into her arm, but before any innocents could peep in and see what the commotion was about, Buffy hit a trap door, fell through the unstable ground, and both fell into the sewage.

A loud splash and Buffy fell on top of the vampire. Dru tried to get to Buffy’s throat but Buffy pushed her hard into the water. She reached into her front pocket and grabbed one of the darts. The girl held the dart like a knife but before she could slam into any piece of the vampire’s skin, Dru threw Buffy off her back and into a wall, dislocating her shoulder and scraping her back. But worst of all; the vampire broke the tip of the needle.

“Fuck it.”

Buffy slammed into her and scraped the broken tip against Drusilla’s skin while ejecting the tranquilizer. The vampire had a gash all down her arm, and was dripping blood into the sewage water, but she calmed down slowly, and moved sluggishly, swaying back and forth. By the time Buffy got the second needle out, Drusilla was preaching the future and moving to the stars.

“Pretty freedom... standing still, not moving at all... freedom is not freedom... and the light dancing all around and around and around until they all fall down.” She looked up at Buffy with a nasty grin on her face, “nasty demons keeping you away from him like this... Your fault. You lied... your lover died…”

“And you are fried.”

“And the necklace…”

She took the needle from the vampire’s arm and watched as she slowly sunk into her dream world.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

Drusilla splashed the walls with sewer water when she fell.

“Just the way I like my vampires. Drugged and unconscious.”

Buffy looked near the staircase and collapsed on the speaker.

“Jonathon, are you there?”

“Are you OK?”

“Irrelevant. How long do I have?”

“Giles did the skit. Everyone loved it, Willow and Tara are almost done, while Anya has twenty more minutes. If you need, Xander can go next then you.”

“Fantastic.”

“Did you get her?”

“But good.”

* * * * * * *