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Sister Slayer

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She checks her equipment carefully as the sun goes down. Good shoes, non-restrictive clothes, lighter, knife, holy water, stake. Everything is ready for a long night of demon hunting.

She pulls her hair back into a tight braid, knowing that it will be best to keep it out of her face tonight. The vampires will be hungry and she cannot afford even the small weakness of hair in her eyes. When that is finished, she puts her mother’s gold cross around her neck.

When the sun falls below the horizon, Kendra the Vampire Slayer steps into the night to hunt.

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Early in her Slayer career, Kendra discovered that she liked zombies, for a given definition of like. They were usually slow and stupid and always single minded, making them less of a chore to return to the dust of the Earth than vampires or demons. Sometimes a hoard was too big for her to handle, but most of the time slaying zombies was actually relaxing.

So of course, the local vampire necromancer had to ruin her night by creeping out of the darkness behind her and trying to take a bite. She brushed his dust off her face with irritation.

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Kendra poked at the cup after the waiter set it down. “What is this?”

“It’s a cappuccino,” Buffy said brightly. “Like coffee, but with a kick.”

“We do not have such things where I come from.” Carefully the dark skinned slayer sipped at her drink the way her companion did.

“You don’t seem to have a lot of things where you come from.” The American Slayer frowned. “That’s kind of sad.”

“No. You are just… the spoiled Slayer. Most of us did not have “real lives” before we were called.” Kendra sipped her drink again to hide her own frown.

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“Sometimes, I wish I hadn’t been chosen. That it had been the girl in Germany or the girl in Kenya. One of the ones who wanted to be a Slayer, instead of just knowing it was her duty.”

Kendra looked down at the stake in her hands, afraid to meet the eyes of the American girl she was sitting with. Buffy was different than other Slayers had been in the past, but that didn’t mean she would understand or accept. Just this once, though, she needed to make the admission.

“I know,” Buffy said softly. “Sometimes I wish that too.”