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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
I have never felt so alone. When Buffy died, it sent me spiraling down into depression, but when Oz died, I couldn't cope.
The blood is all around me. The white porcelain of the bathtub is glowing compared to the deep crimson of my blood, their blood.
It all started when Buffy was patrolling. Adam, he came up behind her and speared her, right through the heart. I always thought she would go out with a bang, but she died, all alone, lying in the center of the cemetery. It was awful. I had my other friends. Xander, Giles, Anya, and…Oz. Oz… that's a whole other story. The night Oz died, I was with him. We were patrolling, since Buffy was gone. It had been a year since her death. We thought that it was all over, but Spike. Oh, Spike. I always had this feeling towards him, not compassion; he was too evil for that, but a sort of kinship. Funny how death is always unexpected. He just jumped out of nowhere. Somehow, we think it was Adam, he got the chip out of his head. We were the lucky ones to cross his path first. He lunged at Oz. Killed him within minutes. Oz was a free spirit, not prone to fighting. He didn't fight, not that night, not ever again. I fell to his side, panic-stricken. I screamed, howled, cried. I vowed revenge that night as I lay beside Oz's cold, dead body, and I got it. Spike was staked in the middle of the next day. I bet he never anticipated the little, reclusive redhead to stake him. Oh, well. That's all over now. Death comes and leaves in the shadows.
I hear him! Oz…is that you? He's calling me, but as I near the figure, it is but death cloaked in a comforting image. Then, all is black.