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It begins benignly, as many dreams do. Jonathan's walking though the halls of Sunnydale High, being jostled and ignored as he always was. This time he walks all the way to the bell tower, where the gun is waiting for him, cold and deadly in the corner. Buffy never comes. Instead, he takes aim and begins firing. People scream, clouds of blood puffing from their heads as their noises are stilled with his bullets. They sprawl on the ground, legs and arms splayed at strange angles. Cheerleaders, football players, the assholes who made fun of him every day of his entire life. He smiles. He is in control. They will never ignore him again.

But then the bodies begin to move. This is Sunnydale, after all.

They begin moving toward the tower, sightless, some of them, or headless. They begin to climb the tower, gore trailing behind them.

Warren is standing beside him now, but it's not Warren. It's the First. "Hey Sparky, looks like you're having fun now. I wonder if one of them has a knife? How do you like all the attention now?"

Then the scene fades and Jonathan is in the high school basement, a knife in his gut. It hurts, hurts so badly, and Andrew is smiling at him, nattering on about the latest rumors from the Star Wars spoiler website.

"Oh, does that hurt?" he says, and he twists the knife in the wound. "Don't worry, I can make it hurt worse."

Jonathan screams. He screams, but Andrew takes no notice. He just twists the blade a little more, ignoring Warren completely.

[ooc: all credit to Vivien]

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Jonathan Levinson

March 2017

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