Buffy the Vampire Slayer

The Dark Bargain – Season 3 – January 26, 1999

Fog wound through the cemetery like ghostly fingers, clinging low to the ground and weaving around gravestones in heavy, pale tendrils. Buffy Summers navigated the labyrinthine paths, her boots crunching softly on the gravel. The fog curled around her ankles like a persistent cat, thick enough that the gravestones seemed to rise from an endless gray sea. Beside her, Faith moved with a predator’s grace, her leather jacket catching the moonlight in sleek ripples. A stake twirled effortlessly between her fingers, the wooden tip flashing in and out of the gloom.

“Check out the cult cosplay convention,” Faith said, nodding toward a trio of vampires loitering near a dilapidated crypt. Their dark robes were threadbare at the hems, but the hoods obscured their faces well enough to give them an unsettling air. An unfamiliar symbol had been scratched into the crypt wall behind them—a jagged spiral enclosed by a triangle.

Buffy tilted her head, arching a brow. “Guess the ‘Leather and Fangs’ look was too last season.”

Faith smirked. “Maybe they’re trying to rebrand. You know, go for something artsy. ‘Vampires: The Opera.’”

Buffy snorted softly. “Does that make us the harsh critics?”

“More like the closing act.” Faith twirled her stake again, her grin wolfish. “Shall we?”

Buffy nodded, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the vampires. “Only one way to find out. Let’s make an entrance.”

Together, they moved in tandem, slipping through the fog with practiced ease. Buffy felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, her body coiled and ready to spring. The nearest vampire must have caught a flicker of motion—his head jerked up, yellow eyes gleaming beneath his hood.

“Well, well,” he sneered, his voice low and rasping. “The Slayers have come to bless us with their presence.”

“Sorry,” Buffy quipped, twirling her stake. “Didn’t RSVP.”

The vampire bared his fangs. “That was your first mistake.”

Faith cracked her knuckles, stepping forward. “And your last mistake? Thinking this hooded-robe shtick was intimidating. Spoiler: It’s not.”

The robed vampire snarled and lunged, his movements almost frantic. Buffy sidestepped easily, her heel driving into his midsection with enough force to send him sprawling back into the fog. Faith met the second vampire head-on, her stake slicing through the air in a blur of motion.

“Gotta say,” Faith taunted as she ducked under a wild swing, “if you’re looking for scary, maybe try less robes and more actual hygiene.”

Buffy darted forward, her own vampire snapping at her heels. His claws scraped uselessly against her jacket as she vaulted over a weathered headstone, landing with feline precision. Spinning, she thrust her stake forward, catching him squarely in the chest. His body disintegrated with a hiss, the ash settling silently onto the grave dirt.

Faith wasn’t far behind. She feinted left, then drove her stake home with a triumphant laugh as the vampire dissolved into dust. The final robed figure hesitated, glancing between them, his grip tightening around the edge of his cloak.

“You have no idea what you’re meddling in,” he spat, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. “Vortrekh will see you both fall.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Vortrekh, huh? Cool name. What is that, your D&D character?”

Buffy stepped closer, her eyes locked on the vampire’s. “Big words for a guy about to go poof.”

The vampire lunged, but Buffy was faster. She caught him by the wrist, twisting hard enough to draw a yelp of pain, then swept his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a dull thud, and her stake came down a second later. Dust swirled in the air where he’d been.

“Vortrekh,” Buffy muttered, frowning. The name lingered in the air like the remnants of a bad dream.

Faith shrugged, brushing off her jacket. “Probably just another dime-a-dozen Big Bad. I swear, they all think they’re special.”

Buffy opened her mouth to respond, but something on the ground caught her eye—a faint glint where the vampire had fallen. She crouched, brushing the dirt away to reveal a small, intricately designed amulet. Its surface shimmered faintly in the moonlight, engraved with twisting, unfamiliar symbols.

Faith peered over her shoulder, eyebrows raising. “Nice find, B. Didn’t know vamps were into accessorizing.”

Buffy hesitated, her fingers hovering just above the amulet. The air around it felt… different. Warmer. A faint hum, almost like the purr of distant machinery, vibrated against her skin as she picked it up.

The warmth spread through her palm—not unpleasant, but disorienting, like stepping into a sunbeam after hours in the cold. Buffy shook her head, slipping the amulet into her pocket before Faith could notice the flicker of unease in her expression.

Faith stepped closer, letting her shoulder bump against Buffy’s. “Or maybe you’re just drawn to shiny stuff,” she teased, voice dropping to a murmur. “You’re not secretly a magpie in Slayer’s clothing, are you?”

Buffy forced a laugh. “Gotta make sure it matches my boots first.”

They started walking toward the cemetery’s edge, the amulet’s faint weight pressing against Buffy’s thigh with each step. The fog seemed thicker now, clinging to their legs and muffling the sounds of the night.

Faith broke the silence. “You know Giles is gonna flip out over that thing, right? He’ll have it under a microscope in, like, five minutes.”

“Probably,” Buffy said, her voice light but distracted. Her fingers brushed the amulet through her pocket, its warmth still palpable even through the fabric.

Faith shot her a sideways glance. “Just don’t let it turn into one of those ‘cursed object’ deals. Last thing we need is a freaky necklace pulling a Poltergeist.”

Buffy smirked, nudging her shoulder. “Relax. It’s probably nothing. Just shiny.”

But as they passed beneath the cemetery gates, Buffy couldn’t shake the prickling sensation at the back of her neck—the kind of feeling she got just before a fight. She glanced over her shoulder, the fog swirling in restless eddies behind them.

Nothing moved.

Still, her fingers tightened around the amulet, and she quickened her pace.

Faith grinned ahead of her, oblivious. “C’mon, B. Let’s grab a burger before Giles drowns us in Watcher talk.”

Buffy forced a smile, but her unease lingered. Somewhere in the night, something was watching. Waiting.

And for the first time, Buffy wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what it was.