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House of The Setting Sun: Day Terrors
Episode Three of the House of the Setting Sun Series

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, nor do I make any profit from writing about them. No copyright infringement intended.
Rating: R
Summary: Episode Three in the House of the Setting Sun series.


Episode Three


The blonde junior stood in the centre of the cafeteria, her hands in the air and tears streaming down her cheeks. Her terrified eyes were fixed on the police officer in front of her. Listening and obeying his commands meant she didn't have to think any further than his next words, and that was a good thing. If she was left to her own devices the guns would make her panic and the sounds of the other kids sobbing and whispering would make her cry harder, and the dead boy at her feet would make her scream.

So she kept her blurred vision on the face of the officer in front of her and followed his orders methodically, like a programmed robot. That's how she felt as she leaned over slowly and placed her palms on the table top next to her, like it was all happening on automatic. She held one hand behind her as a separate cop barked at her from behind, then the other one.

The handcuffs made her wrists sore immediately; she'd never been one for metal bracelets. She didn't complain though; she didn't make a sound, she just allowed herself to be half led, half pushed out of the cafeteria as the cop barked out her rights.

Around her she could the whispers of her friends mixed in with hushed voices of the rest of the student body. This had to be a dream, one of those where you're at school and you're naked. If she looked down now she'd see that she was naked.

Clinging to that hope because she couldn't find another one, she looked down, but she was dressed. Dressed in the same plaid trousers and white shirt she'd arrived at school wearing that morning. That morning that had only been three hours ago but that now felt like a whole different life time. A life time when she wasn't a murderer.

As the cop urged her the final few feet out of the cafeteria, Janey turned her head to look at the crime scene. A crime scene she had caused. Looking back at her was about a hundred shocked, scared faces, some she knew some she didn't. The one thing they all had in common was the way they were looking at her. There was only one face who wasn't looking at her, wasn't taking any notice of her at all, and that was the face of Rik Hogan. He couldn't look at her even if he'd wanted to, because a) he was dead and b) his face was now facing the wrong way to the rest of his body.

Kennedy, Alison, Miranda and Cici were patrolling one of the two graveyards in Boudenver. Kennedy wasn't expecting any trouble. There had been no recent burials so it was unlikely any fledglings would rise but it seemed like the right place to start the younger girls' training. It was where she had done most of hers.

They were creeping around the old tombstones and as usual Alison, Miranda and Cici were whispering to each other, something about ghosts this time.

Kennedy just rolled her eyes. 'It's just as well this isn't a real patrol in a live - ha ha - graveyard,' she thought.

Hushed voices ahead of her made her stop and hold an arm out to shush the others too. 'Maybe this graveyard isn't so dead after all.'

She motioned for the others to wait there and crept around another grave marker to get a better look at the speakers.

There were three of them, holding a piece of paper or parchment on a flat stone and studying it intently.

Kennedy waited for her vampire tinglies to kick in but they didn't. In truth the only time they had was around the Ubervamps; normal ones didn't do a lot for her. Half the time in L.A. she had never even known Angel was in the room until she saw him.

Maybe if she could get closer she'd be able to tell if they were vampires or just average-up-to-no-good-in-a-grave-yard-at-night humans. She crept around another of the large, leaning stones and then another. Now she could see they were vampires, she didn't need any tingles to be able to see the bumpies and the teeth.

She was about to jump up and shout charge, or possibly something a little cooler, when a Tasmanian Devil spun into the middle of the vamps and created a dust storm.

When the dust settled, Taz turned out to be blonde, petite and preferred to be called Buffy, not Taz.

Kennedy stayed crouched behind the stone staring up at her. Buffy looked around and cocked her head slightly as if she could hear something. When nothing became apparent she turned her attention to the paper still lying on the stone. She blew some dust off of it and looked closely. Kennedy watched her just as closely and she chuckled softly when Buffy made a little frustrated noise, folded the paper and shoved it into her pants pocket, obviously unable to understand it.

Buffy spun on her heels and sprinted off across the grass. Kennedy watched her vault a couple of the stones with complete ease and grace and waited until she cleared the cemetery wall with one bound before she stood up. Alison was standing next to her.

"She's back then," Alison said.

Kennedy nodded and led the way out of the graveyard. "In more ways than one."

Act One

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