Before continuing, please realize that this is a very dark fic, and you should read at your own risk.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the BtVs or A:tS characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sanddollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox and the WB. Please don't sue. :)
Summary: Big, GIANT warning being slapped on this one. *VERY DARK FIC* I can't really summarize this one, but it includes many character deaths and they are rather gruesome. Also, this is a very large departure for me, since I'm typically not an angsty writer. Hopefully, it turned out alright. It was incredibly difficult for me to write something so dark and depressing, so feedback would be greatly appreciated.
Rating: Definitely R, for graphic depictions and character death.
Spoilers: Nothing in particular.
Distribution: Want, take, have. Let me know.
Feedback: Please, I would like to ask that I not be flamed for this. If you don't like it, feel free to let me know with constructive criticism. If you DO like it, please let me know!

I don't see it coming. However, when you're in a job like mine, you rarely do. For me, it was just another fight; a typical demon that I should have been able to slay in mere moments. However, something was different for me that night, and I can't rationalize the change that took place in my body during that critical instant. I don't think I'm meant to.

From what I can remember, all I felt was a sharp pain in my abdomen, almost as if something was slicing me open and my insides were falling out. And that would make sense, since I know that I have a large gaping wound in my midsection, and that would make sense because of all of the blood that is surrounding me. Through the blur of red in my eyes, I can faintly see a shiny object lying on the ground beside me, and I have to assume that it is an axe of some sort. I don't really know how it managed to be removed from my frail body; all I know is that it is the cause of this wound.

I can't concentrate on how it happened, though, mostly due to the cold that is creeping up my body. From the instant that the axe struck, it felt like an ice making contact with the heat of my blood. From then on, all I could think about was the freeze taking over my insides, traveling down from my stomach to the furthest reaches of my toes, and slowly upward. I know it has come close to my head now, but only because it is clouding my mind and my eyes. I can't see clearly anymore, and I'm beginning to lose any semblance of sanity. It's true what they say about death, it is cold and definitely scary. I hear a voice in my head, and it doesn't sound like my own, probably because I can tell that it is dripping with fear. All I can hear is it screaming over and over "I don't want to die". And I know that it is true, because I don't. I try to think about why I want to stay here on this dreadful planet, what my reasons are to live. Namely, I am still young. I want to know a life outside of school, outside of my mother's home. I want to know my own life, one which I haven't had the opportunity to experience. And then, the reasons slowly drift away, one by one, because I'm blinded now, and my mind is definitely icing over.

I never believed in those near-death experience stories about a light at the end of the tunnel, not until now that is. I can see that light, and it's blinding. I find it so strange though, because I know I can't see any longer, and yet I'm still seeing this light, and a figure emerging out of it ever so slowly. The light is blaring past the outline of this figure, and it is such a surreal experience. The only other time I had ever seen anything fly like this had been when the Gentlemen had come around, but they were just a fairy tale. This is so real.

When finally the figure reaches me, I can tell it is an angel, and I can ignore the cold inside me temporarily. My body is overcome with a sense of joy, and the light is similar to sunshine now, lighting up the blank area that has now encompassed my being. For a moment, I think to myself that my efforts have truly paid off, and I am being rewarded. Perhaps there is such a place as heaven, and just maybe I have been given the chance to reside there for the rest of eternity.

I feel as if I'm being lifted off of the ground, and I can move again. I don't feel any of the pain, and I don't feel the cold anymore. It's almost as if I'm missing that bruised, beaten, broken and torn shell that was my body. When I turn around, I can see that I am right because lying on the ground with glazed-over eyes that are still wide open is my body lying in an expansive pool of blood. It has tainted my hair, and I wouldn't even be able to recognize myself had I not known that it was me lying on the ground moments before. I would so desperately like to seep into denial and pretend that I am actually getting up and walking away from just another casual victim of the evils of this world, another victim that I don't recognize. I can't do that, though, because my past experiences have taught me that denial is never appropriate for dire situations such as this.

I remember about the figure that had appeared before me prior to my re-awakening. I snap around and see that this angel, a man who possesses an ethereal glow, has been standing there and waited patiently for me to speak. When I attempt to, I feel the words caught in my throat. I feel strangled.

"Do not try to speak, all will come in due time," he says. "You have been chosen to see, and make a choice."

Too baffled to keep silent any longer, I force myself to emit a sound.

"See?" is all I can muster, at least for now.

"Yes, see. You, Slayer, must determine both your fate and that of this world. Your battle has not yet finished. So long as you exist in this plane, you exist in the one you are familiar with. Once you have made your choice, you will exist in one of the two, and not both." His words trigger a thought inside myself. He's right, about my not being truly dead. I can't be, because I can still feel the Slayer inside of me. If I was really dead, it would have departed from my body and found another Chosen One, another girl to burden with the fight for good. I still don't understand what he means, though.

"I have come to show you, and you will see. You cannot turn away from these images, nor will you want to, I suspect. It really shall be your decision, one that I cannot influence. For once, Slayer, you are truly alone."

"I am not just the Slayer, you know. I am Buffy. Buffy Summers. There is more to me than just that," I sigh, annoyed that this being won't see through the power that surrounds my representation.

"Very well, then, Slayer. You shall be referred to as 'Buffy', the name as you see fit. Although it shall have no bearing on your journey."

"We're going somewhere?" I ask, still annoyed and truly confused. Why can't death be simple? I have no need to search for an answer to my question, as I can answer it myself. Nothing is ever simple for me.

"Your journey shall commence now." Without explanation, I find myself dizzy and located in another place. I don't recognize it, but its walls seep with a calming familiarity. I can feel odd electricity in the air, though; one that I would have never recognized had I been alive, because the air passes through my body now.

I notice that I, like the angel, am floating. The need for walking, nor the ability, is anywhere to be found within my body. I don't understand how I am floating like he, but it hardly seems important. All I can do is take in my surroundings, and try to understand this 'journey' that this Angel has taken me on. The sun is not shining, nor is it set. This world seems wrong somehow, but I find explaining the truth behind it too difficult. It seems so fake, almost like a designed matrix with this one visual invading my mind. I do not even feel confident about whether I am truly here or not.

What I see next answers my questions. Had I been truly alive, and not just a reflection of my once vibrant body, the scene that unfolded before me would have surely made me vomit. I, however, could only feel extreme remorse and a desire for knowledge and the kill. Whatever did this, I wanted to find it and I wanted to kill it. I recognized this place immediately as something that Angel owned. Its interior screamed of his personality; his style, his tastes and his demeanor. I remember it being mentioned that he had bought a hotel of some sort in L.A., and this building fit perfectly into that description.

The angel had walked me through one of the doors, and the first thing I noticed was a bed. It had been draped in blood red sheets, ones which I immediately recognized as Angel's. The thing that set off the picture though, were the three bodies I found strewn about the room. The sheets were a natural red, but the darkened spots on them had obviously come from the body lying on top of them. Cordelia's body appeared as if it had been thrown onto the bed lifelessly, puncture wounds in her neck and a slit across her wrist. I didn't know how it happened, but I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sadness for the loss of this girl. I hadn't known her well, but we had become slight friends when I first came to Sunnydale. Lying on the floor beside the bed was Wesley's body, and his was in even worse condition than Cordelia's. It appeared as if it had been tortured, and for a very long time. Whoever had done this had perfected the art and had definitely used it upon poor Wesley. They had known that he was strong-willed and would not have given in to their demands, and they had used that against him. Perhaps being valiant was not intended for those who weren't meant to be warriors. It would only wind up getting them killed.

That statement could not have been a truer testament to the scene in front of me. Not only were there two bodies of my former friends lying dead in this room, but also one of a man I didn't recognize. He, however, was not dead. He was lying not to far away from Welsey, and I could tell that he had been trying to call but had given up in the attempt due to a lack of strength. He was obviously mourning the loss of Cordy and Wes, and this was evident from the tears that were streaming down his beautifully African-american face. The humanitarian instincts inside me kicked in and I was immediately beside this man. I tried to lift his head, but my fingers floated through it. I was obviously not present in any real form, and was not a part of this reality.

Bewildered, I snapped my head towards the angel and screamed at him. "Help him!" I demanded, angered and frustrated that this supposed representative of God and good would not help a human in need. My mind questioned if there were even such things as God and good if they could leave this man, a potential friend, here to die so slowly and painfully.

"It is not our duty. His time has come, and we are not meant to prevent the inevitable." The angel answered me snidely. He was obviously not going to help. "I cannot help but wonder Buffy why your mind has not yet wandered to the other inhabitant of this hotel."

The angel had obviously baffled me, and I stared at him dumbstruck. Other inhabitant? Oh God, my mind screamed. Angel! The man lying beside me opened his mouth to speak.

"Help. please." His voice trembled, an obvious strain to even enunciate those two words. I remembered the feeling, as I had experienced it very shortly ago. What I didn't understand was how he knew I was there. I again turned to the angel for guidance.

"He sees you as you are: a friend of his. Angel was his friend, and your souls are connected. Therefore he sees your soul and asks of your assistance." I couldn't help but notice the way he spat out the word 'soul', almost as if the mere concept disgusted him. It was a strange feeling to me.

"Please, let me help him." I pleaded, desperate to save this man who was close to Angel.

"I am afraid that cannot be done my child." He answered, as we flashed to another setting. My body ached of the heartache from our previous surroundings, my mind still reeling from this angel's desertion of a human in need. I didn't have long to think about it, however, as I immediately recognized my current surroundings.

"Giles," I breathed as my eyes watered at the gruesome scene unfolding in his apartment. Xander, Anya, Tara and Willow had all been tied to chairs. Their heads were drooping, their necks bleeding from the puncture wounds located on the same spot on each body. I noticed that the methodical rise and fall of their chests was missing, and my body wanted to lash out, and my eyes were desperate to cry. No tears would come, and my emotions were due to be on a whirlwind of changes.

Right in front of me was Giles in the arms of a monster. This monster was obviously the one that had taken the time to arrange such a grisly death for those nearest and dearest to me. I couldn't understand it. If I was dead, why bother with my friends, too? They were innocents, caught in the crossfire. They should have been saved with my death. I could only see Giles' eyes starting to close and I knew that there was still a chance for his salvation. I savagely grabbed the angel's arm and turned him towards me.

"Let me help him! Why are you doing this to me? What good will this do?" I screamed, out of heart-wrenching aching for my friends, and desperation to save my mentor.

"Child, have you not learned that you cannot change the inevitable? None of this is your choice, and you have no say in the matter."

"But you said I had a choice. That I had to make a choice. What is damnit? Tell me!" I screamed, my body still reeling from the confusion that had weighed upon it.

"Look my child, and you shall see."

I turned my head back towards Giles and this monster. All of the life had obviously been taken from my dearest of mentor's, my second father. The monster slowly removed his fangs, and something about his demeanor reeked with familiarity. His head slowly lifted as he dropped Giles' body and his visage shifted back into that of his human façade. My eyes widened in horror as I recognized the face instantly.

"Angelus," I whispered in horror. Not for the need of saying his name, but simply because my shock was too great to remain silent. His eyes pierced my body, and I couldn't help but wonder why he could recognize me when others couldn't.

"Aww, come on Buffy, how did you think this was going to end? Soul boy wouldn't do something ridiculous when he felt your death? Well, guess what. When you died, so did his soul. Ripped right from him, and you want to know what that left?" He paused, reveling in the sight of my bulging eyes, and the growing lump in my throat.

"What?" I croaked, really not needing to know the answer because it was standing right in front of me.

"Me." He whispered, instantly sending wretched chills down my spine, and I could feel that coolness of death inside of me again. Possibly because not only had my body died, but I could feel my soul passing away, as well. I closed my eyes, ready to submit to the eternal darkness. The voice of the angel denied me of my reverie, and shook me awake to face yet another change of scenery.

We were back inside that same cave, and lying beside me was that same body that I was in earlier today. It seemed so much different, and so much more innocent. I welcomed that thought of death, that eternal rest that would protect me from all that I had just seen.

"Why did you show me this?" I croaked, my mind too clouded with the loss of my family and friends to function clearly. The angel spoke to me in harsh tones now.

"Child, you have seen all that you must and now it has come time for you to make a choice."

"What is that?" I asked, afraid of the answer. Maybe it would offer me an eternal rest, or maybe a second chance.

"Do you choose to return to this Earth and fight the monster that you have created," he started before my thoughts interrupted. I hadn't created Angelus, and this wasn't my fault. But what if he was right? Could I have fought harder, and saved my friends? How could I save them? I wasn't given long to ponder over my thoughts before the angel continued.

"I may return you to your body and heal your wounds, offering you the opportunity to salvage your mess and kill this monster." I didn't let the angel finish, as I let my sorrow speak for me.

"Do it." I spoke quietly, but not too quietly that the angel didn't hear. I closed my eyes and had hardly enough time to think about my decision before I heard a much harsher voice speaking to me now. It startled me out of my state of indecisiveness, and I looked upon what stood before me. No longer was it the face of the angel that had accompanied me on my visit, but a face that had plagued my nightmares since I was a tiny child; a face that I had given to that of the devil. I had heard that each person's views of heaven and hell, God and the Devil were different, and what had just come to pass before me had proved me right.

"Very well, my child. And I thank you for your decision." Before I had time to react, I was in my own body and my wounds had healed. No figure stood before me now, and there was no light shining into the cave that I had been in. When I stood, I felt no pain. I felt nothing. My feet traveled lightly, carrying my body out into the outside world with ease. The world I found was not the world I had left hours ago. It was much different, and much darker. All the buildings that I had engraved upon my mind were in ruins, the streets deserted and human life nowhere to be found. I walked up the middle of the main Sunnydale street, and all I could notice was the sheer amount of demons turning against one another. With no humans left to kill, they set their eyes upon one another; survival of the fittest is what they called it. They paid no heed to my lone figure walking up the street. I don't even think it was possible for them to kill me.

I realized then that my choice had not been one of duty or valour. It was one of temptation. The devil had tempted me with ignorance and second chances. Had I given it time to finish with the options, perhaps I would have realized that acceptance of my fate was truly my only salvation and way to eternal life of peace. I realized now that my choice resulted in one thing: damnation. Life without my friends, and without my Angel was my eternal damnation.

All I could do now was fight for my redemption; an afterlife mirroring that of the life that my love now lead on Earth. Perhaps one day, when we both reached our salvations we would be united again.

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