Shades
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon and the Fox people. No infringement is intended.
He hated sitting at the table.
The chair was far too big for him, and his feet dangled hopelessly above the floor. When he fidgeted it even gave him
splinters…the wood was rough and old. With a sigh he stared out of the window, drinking in the sight of the sun and the
grass, the other children playing in the large field next to his house.
But there was work to be done, important work, and he must do it.
Biting his lower lip, Rupert frowned at the picture in front of him. It was a vampire. His father had given him the picture and
told him that he had a week to find all he could on the subject using the books. His eyes widened at the sea of literature
spread out on the old oak table. Where was he to start? This had to be the most impossible job in the world…but it was going
to be his job, and he was going to do it well.
A vampire. They all looked the same, and this one was no exception. Big fangs, ugly ridges, glowing eyes. He had boasted to Ethan a few days ago that he’d seen a real vampire, right up close…well, it hadn’t been a complete lie, had it?
His father had told him to stay back, and if he watched closely, he would see one.
See one of those evil monsters he’d been scared with in fairytale for years. Then a few months ago he was told that the
fairytales were real after all, and he was to have a starring role.
The Slayer’s tale. How he’d loved that one. When Rupert’s mother had told him a bedtime story, he’d always asked for that
one. The tale of the beautiful girl and her gallant Watcher who fought the demons and vampires together.
They fought them together and they won every time…nobody good ever died. If you were good, you never died, that was the
rule. It was all so clear cut. The ugly corrupted vampires, and the beautiful virtuous Slayer.
So when he saw his father’s friends, the righteous Watchers, beating down a pretty young woman, he had been shocked to say
the least. He remembered her face as clear as day. The blacked out car had stalled to a halt. It was the dead of night, the only
light provided by a single street lamp. Father had earlier warned him that this vampire was very dangerous… they had
managed to capture it and wanted to question it on the whereabouts of some other infamous bloodsuckers. Bloodsuckers. That had been his exact words, he hadn’t even given the creature a gender.
Not that it deserved one, Rupert understood that. It was evil, was a murderer, didn’t care about anyone but itself. That little
mantra had been drummed into him since day one. There were no exceptions to the rule. Everything was black and white.
In the light of that street lamp, four men had pulled her, bleeding and broken from the car. She struggled a little, and Rupert almost expected her to whimper and plead with them…she made no sound. At first he thought she was unhurt, but her head
lolled back and her eyes fixed on his, and he almost called out, for she was crying. Tears running down her face, her pretty
face, hair blowing wildly in the chill night breeze.
Then he understood why she would never beg or ask for help. She was proud. Even in this state of defeat, she was proud.
Rupert Giles, only ten years old, wanted to help her. Wanted to stop her crying and make her feel better. He knew it was
wrong and bad to feel sorry for such an evil thing…yet he couldn’t help how he felt. All too soon she was gone again,
dragged into the Council building, never to return.
He took a gulp of water from the mug on the table and went back to the books. All of the words were too hard, and he didn’t
really understand them. There had been something about the correct blessing ritual for Holy Water, and a short passage
referring him to yet another dusty volume. At least he enjoyed reading.
After the vampire girl had been dragged away, his thoughts had turned to the books. How when he got home he would search
through them for information about her…if he could only read about the things she’d done, the evil things, then perhaps he’d
feel better. Father started walking towards him, and took his hand.
“I’m sorry about that Rupert.”
“Sorry about what?”
The young boy was frozen in the too large chair, mug of water halfway to his lips, reliving his father’s next words.
“Sorry that you didn’t get to see the vampire.”
Rupert Giles, ten years old, had stopped still and absorbed that last sentence. Unsure as to what it meant…it could only mean
something bad.
“That…that wasn’t a vampire? What was it then? A demon? A ghoul?”
“No…it doesn’t matter what it was, Rupert. All that matters is it’s gone now. It didn’t deserve to live.”
Again the genderless it. And he needed to know what sort of creature he had witnessed weeping and bleeding and fading
away…
“I’ll be busy tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“I’ve been assigned to the new Slayer.”
In the kitchen at the old oak table a mug fell to the floor and shattered into a thousand pieces, water splashing everywhere.
Tears streamed down his face and he longed for some sort of comfort, longed for the days when he had known only black and
white. When a Slayer was only good and would never die, would always win…
“The new Slayer? What happened to the old one?”
“It died.”
“How do you know?”
“We killed it.”
There had been a long speech on duty and how she had gone bad…disobeyed the Council’s orders and they needed a Slayer
in their control…for without control there was no balance.
All Rupert Giles, ten years old, could remember was the face of the pretty young girl as she cried silently on a cold
September night. And the sudden realization that life was never as simple as black and white.
It would always be shades of grey.
the end
To send the author Feedback
To return to the Swirly Head's Archive
To return to the Authors Archive