Work Text:
Thriller Night!
‘What the hell? The cold never bothers me this much!’ she thought to herself. She had been feeling fine all day and had been eagerly looking forward to enjoying the one night off she got each year - Halloween.
Everything had been going great until Dean had decided that he was going to pick the movie they were going to see that night; clearly not one to worry about being cliché, he had chosen ‘Halloween’.
She had just spent the last three hundred and sixty four days, seventeen hours and thirty four minutes killing vampires and demons… the last thing she wanted to do on her one night off was watch a horror film! Add to that the fact that she really hated horror movies any day of the year and her one night off had quickly lost its appeal. It wasn’t that she was scared of horror movies - hell she had seen far worse things than some maniac in a mask going around killing people - it was more that they made her uncomfortable. If a demon decided on a whim that it felt like indulging in a murderous rampage then she could kill it without so much as a second thought and be done with it… she wasn’t able to use the same technique against humans!
‘I am not here to deal with the humans anyway! Let the cops deal with them… I’ll stay out of their way and they can stay out of mine.’
Sighing deeply she turned a corner and headed in to a large parking lot.
“Buffy!”
She started to slow down but didn‘t turn around right away. She immediately recognised the worried tone in Dean’s voice and she decided that she would torture him for a little longer.
“Are you just going to keep ignoring me?” he asked.
Buffy suddenly felt a rush of anger well up inside her. In one swift movement, she turned on one heel so that she was facing him. Dean stopped walking towards her and raised his hands up in defence; fear and apprehension contended for space on his face.
Buffy could sense his fear but could see that he wasn’t really sure if she would actually go as far as hitting him; he was also wary enough to avoid provoking her any further.
‘He’s a quick learner this one.’
“Don’t say it Dean! I don’t want to hear it,” Buffy said angrily.
“How was I supposed to know you didn’t like Halloween?”
“I don’t hate Halloween! I love Halloween…its my only night off of the year!”
“So what’s the problem then? I don’t get you Summers!”
“The problem? How about a clue… like when I told you that I hate horror movies! I suppose you took that to mean that we had to rush out and see one on my next day off?”
“The movie? This is about the movie? Jeez, ok… I messed up. I’m sorry.”
“So you should be! This is supposed to be my day off ya’ know. In case you didn’t catch it before… I only get one a year!”
“Fine. Yeah, yeah, one a year… I heard you, let’s just head back.”
“Best idea you’ve had all night,” Buffy said
Walking through the busy street Buffy took in the sights around her. Kids were running about in various costumes; numerous superheroes and villains chapping doors to beg for candy. A thin werewolf and rather plump zombie ran past them laughing. She could see that the zombie had a roll of toilet paper with him and as he approached a house with the lights on, but the shutters drawn, he lobbed the toilet paper towards the house leaving a white line tracing its way through their yard. The werewolf laughed loudly and threw two eggs that both missed their target and were lost in the dark grass. Giggling loudly they ran off towards a nearby swing park.
As she rounded another corner she could see a large building that had been converted into a makeshift haunted house. The main door was open and brightly lit carved pumpkins surrounded the porch. Numerous fake cobwebs were threaded around the door and windows. Kids were running in and out with their parents, apprehensive as they entered and giggling as they left, each holding a bag bursting with sweets and treats. Buffy let memories of when she’d go trick or treating as a kid float through her mind.
For the first time that evening she smiled.
-
Dean and Buffy walked down the silent street; neither one speaking, instead allowing the sounds of the night to fill the silence between them. From nowhere Dean started to hum, nothing special but enough for Buffy to peer at him, an eyebrow raised in question.
As they passed by the cemetery, Buffy felt Dean stop dead in his tracks and cease humming. Turning to him to ask what was wrong she heard music surrounding her. Looking around the street she couldn’t see any cars or anyone really; it was completely deserted except for the two of them.
“Do you hear that?” She asked Dean, who at this point still hadn’t moved or said anything. “Dean? Hey, you ok?”
She walked over to where he stood, his eyes looking towards the ground at his feet. Grabbing his chin she lifted so they were now eye to eye. She could see him staring off, not making eye contact with anything; lost in his own world. She hadn’t failed to notice that the music was now getting louder and sounded very familiar…
“Dean? This isn’t funny!” She scolded him, giving him a slight shake. Huffing she let him go and turned her back to him. “Fine! I’ll see you at home. I am not in the mood to deal with your games and what is with this music!” She shouted, looking to the sky in frustration, hoping it may give her an answer; anything really. Did she mention she really hated Halloween?
Before she could take a step forward she felt herself being spun around to face Dean. He now peered down at her, his full attention focussed on her. Gasping slightly Buffy looked up to see Dean peering down. She stilled, waiting for Dean to speak. When he continued to stare at her in silence she pulled away from him, sighing deeply when he pulled her in close, his grip on her wrist tightening. She was getting annoyed now.
“It’s close to midnight, and something evil’s lurking in the dark.” Dean began to sing.
“I’ve been through the musical episode Dean. I don’t need a repeat.” Buffy said, eyes narrowing as she used more force to wretch her wrist from Dean’s grasp. Falling back a little she turned on her heel and headed down the street.
She was stopped in her tracks when Dean put himself in front of her. Without a pause he started to sing again, “Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart.”
She opened her mouth to shout at him but he put his finger to her lips to silence her and continued to sing.
“You try to scream, but terror takes the sound before you make it.”
She scowled at him and forcefully pushed her way past so that he stumbled away from her slightly, as he righted himself he grabbed her and pulled her close. Their noses were almost touching and she could see into his green eyes. In this light they sparkled brightly.
“You start to freeze, as horror looks you right between the eyes, you’re paralysed.”
Grinning widely, he pulled her away from him and kissed her on the bridge of her nose. He let her go and she immediately turned away from him and started walking away again. He caught up with her but instead of getting in her way again, he chose to walk at her side. She glanced at him for a moment and sighed heavily.
“Cute,” she commented.
Dean seemed unfazed by the sarcasm dripping from her voice and continued singing,
“'Cause this is thriller, thriller night.”
“Sure it is.”
“And no one’s gonna save you from the beast about to strike.”
“I can take care of myself!”
“You know it’s thriller, thriller night. You’re fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight!”
Buffy was quickly exhausting every ounce of patience that she had left. Punching him forcefully in the arm, she changed direction and walked away from him.
“Ass!” she growled angrily.
Rubbing his arm Dean jogged to catch up with her.
-
Opening the door to the house, Buffy stepped over the threshold into the dark hallway; the house itself was completely silent but she could still hear that distant music. Buffy had been hoping Dawn would have been home but she remembered that Dawn had gone to a friend’s costume party; dressed as Supergirl no less.
Walking into the darkened living room Buffy removed her leather jacket and threw it onto the couch. She leant over and flicked the switch for her lamp; she had already turned away from it when she realised that it was still dark. Turning back towards the lamp she sighed heavily and flicked the switch back and forwards a few times - nothing.
‘That’s all I need tonight.’
Her anger was beginning to well up inside her again. She clenched her fists and tried to regain control. This night was going from bad to worse; first of all Dean had chosen the worst possible movie to go see, he had then sang for no good reason and had even persisted after she had told him not to… that last thing she needed was a black out.
‘Couldn’t Halloween just go without a hitch, just once?’ she thought in desperation.
She walked towards the main light switch on the wall and tried it a few times without luck. She walked to the window and looked out to see if the blackout had affected any of the other houses on the street but surprisingly it hadn’t. Buffy’s home was the only one that had no lights on.
‘Maybe it's just a fuse?’
Heading towards the stairs to check the fuse box she suddenly heard that same music again, followed closely by a familiar voice singing.
“You hear the door slam!” Dean sang loudly.
BANG! He slammed the front door shut behind him as he entered her hallway. Buffy stared at him waiting to see what he would do next - she still hadn’t been able to work out his motives for singing yet… it definitely wasn’t to help her forgive him!.
“And realise there is nowhere left to run,” he continued.
“Why don’t you bang my door harder? I don‘t think they heard it clearly in hell!”
She turned her back on him and started to walk away. She stopped suddenly when she felt Dean’s hand grasp her shoulder - she didn’t turn around this time.
“You feel the cold hand and wonder if you’ll ever see the sun,” he sang over her shoulder.
Before Buffy could grab his hand to pull it away she felt his other hand reach round and cover her eyes.
“You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination,” he sang in to her ear.
Buffy gripped the hand that was covering her eyes and pulled it free. Angrily she wriggled free from his grasp and stormed off towards the kitchen. He was really pissing her off now and she didn’t want to do something she’d regret later. As she walked away she could hear Dean walking softly behind her.
“But all the while you hear the creature creepin’ up behind. You’re out of time!” he sang, slowly building in pace and volume.
Dean caught her off guard by tightly grabbing her waist and spinning her around to face him. She was momentarily dazed and confused that he had been able to spin her against her will so easily.
“'Cause this is thriller, thriller night. There ain’t no second chance against the thing with forty eyes, girl,” he sang loudly. He pushed her backwards and although she pushed against him she still stumbled; only coming to a halt as her back slammed against the kitchen counter.
“What the hell Dean,” she screamed at him, “This isn’t funny, just quit singing and talk to me… if you can’t do that then I want you to leave!”
Dean seemed completely unfazed, as if he hadn‘t even heard her. He continued to sing loudly, never taking his gaze off of her. “You know it’s thriller, thriller night. You’re fighting for your life inside of killer, thriller tonight.”
“Fighting for my life… Are you trying to be intimidating? I am the Slayer, remember? You don’t even pose a threat to me!” She barked back at him. She ducked under his outstretched arm and walked towards the kitchen door to leave. Stopping at the kitchen door by his hand on her arm, Dean spun Buffy around to face him. Walking her backwards through the hall he continued his singing.
“Night creatures call and the dead start to walk in their masquerade. There’s no escaping the jaws of the alien this time.”
As she entered the dark hallway the only light was coming from the small panel window on the front door. Something moved past the window quickly, causing the hallway to drop into complete darkness for a moment before the street lights lightly illuminated the way forwards again.
“They’re open wide!” She heard through the door, that time it hadn’t been Dean singing. She didn’t want to imagine what was waiting behind the door for her.
“What the hell was that? Dean did you see that?” she asked without turning around.
As she drew close to the door a zombie banged its face against the glass; although it was dark she could make out its darkened, leathery and shrivelled skin. It appeared to have only had only eye but that was an off coloured lump sitting lopsided in the base of the eye socket. Spittle ran from its lips and chin and smeared on the glass as it pushed against the door, moaning loudly.
“This is the end of your life.” Dean sang quietly.
“Dean, this isn’t the time for your games… what the hell is happening?” she shrieked.
Buffy wasn’t afraid of zombies, what she was afraid of was the lack of an explanation for zombies being at her house. Looking on to the living room she could see shadows shuffling past the drapes. The brief light that was shining through them before was gradually blacked out completely and the shapes crowded each window. Running from room to room Buffy sealed the windows, realising that it was merely a matter of time before they were inside. She suddenly realised that Dean was still following her but he was completely calm, as she turned to face him the light highlighted only one side of his face. He started singing again, a slight smile forming on his lips.
“They’re out to get you, there’s demons closing in on every side.”
“Then stop singing and help me!” she said as she lifted the phone from the hook on the wall, before she managed to get it to her ear Dean grabbed it from her hand and slammed it back down.
“They will possess you unless you change the number on your dial. Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together,” he pulled her in close to him so that they were locked in a tight embrace but he continued singing. “All through the night I’ll save you from the terror on the screen, I’ll make you see… that this is thriller, thriller night!”
He stared in to her eyes and gave her a wink. “'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghost would dare to try.”
She was so pissed at him and she was at a loss for what was going on outside and yet she couldn’t control the small grin that spread across her lips. The moment was over quickly as he began to sing again.
“Thriller, thriller night. So let me hold you tight and share a killer, diller, chiller…thriller here tonight!”
Loud moans from outside brought Buffy’s focus back in line. She looked around her, desperately looking for a weapon and thinking of a way out. Dean continued to sing whilst she rummaged around the room.
“That this is thriller, thriller night!… girl, I can thrill you more than any ghost would dare to try.”
Dean leant forwards and placed his hand under Buffy’s chin; raising his hand gently he raised her head so that she was looking back in to his eyes. Singing enthusiastically he continued.
“Thriller, thriller night. So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller…”
-
Buffy heard the window smash and the zombies start to spill in, clamouring clumsily over each other in their rush to get inside. A loud smash coming from the kitchen signified that the back door had just given way. Buffy grabbed Deans arm and pulled him with her in to the living room, as she entered the room she saw Andrew sitting silently in a high backed chair. He looked out of place wearing a red velvet smoking jacket and sitting with one leg crossed over the other but Buffy thought that Andrew looked out of place in any environment.
“Andrew? How the hell did you get in here and why the are you dressed like Hugh Hefner?”
Andrew continued to stare at her but didn’t reply, he was so still that she thought for a moment that he might be dead.
“We have to get out of here!… Andrew? Andrew, can you hear me?”
She waved her hand in front of his face but he didn‘t respond; from here she could see that he was still breathing but his gaze was fixed somewhere behind her. She heard the front door give way and slam against the floor in the hallway. It rattled as zombies stumbled over it. Buffy took this chance to run up the stairs towards her bedroom as she knew she had some weapons stashed there. She had got about half way up when a hand wrapped tightly around her ankle and pulled her backwards so that she slid. She turned round, flailing her leg to break free and realised that it was Dean holding her leg.
“Dean let go! I have weapons upstairs, we can get out of this!” she shouted over the moans of the zombies shuffling through her home.
As he leant forwards the light from the open doorway illuminated his face and she could see that his skin was dull and dry and his eyes had sunken back in their sockets. His lips had turned an odd shade of blue and as he leant forward his warm breath had the lingering odour of death and decay. She realised then that he had turned into a zombie.
“Oh God, Dean! No!” she gasped.
She tried to wrestle free of his grip and realised that she couldn’t; he was actually stronger then her. As he moved forwards, his bulk pushed her back even though she was fighting against him - she felt helpless for the first time in years. Looking down into the living room she could see Andrew sitting just as he had been before but he suddenly looked right at her and began to talk slowly and clearly.
“Darkness falls across the land. The midnight hour is close at hand. Creatures crawl in search of blood, to terrorise y’awls neighbourhood!”
Buffy realised that the zombies were ignoring Andrew completely; he kept talking but they continued to ignore him. She was still trying to fight Dean off as he scratched and clawed at her. She could see a brass candle stick on a unit on the landing half way up the stairs. Leaning out she grabbed it and lifted it to swing at Dean. A grunt escaped her lips as she strained to lift it. The sudden realisation spread over her - Dean wasn’t stronger than a Slayer, she had actually lost her strength. Fear swept over her in a rush and she gasped for air as panic set in. Over the moans she could still hear Andrew.
“And whoever shall be found, without the soul for getting down, must stand and face the hounds of hell and rot inside a corpses shell,” he said.
“What am I gonna do?” she cried frantically.
Dean was still grasping at her and the other zombies were stumbling over one and other as they tried to crawl up the stairs. She pulled with all the strength she had and managed to make it to the middle landing. Leaning with her back against the wall she was looking down at numerous rotten faces. Each one watching her with hunger as they advanced on her position. Andrew's voice still managed to carry over the wails and moans.
“The foulest stench is in the air, the funk of forty thousand years and grizzly ghouls from every tomb are closing in to seal your doom.”
Looking down at Andrew angrily she shouted. “Thanks a lot Andrew. Helpful as always.”
He didn’t respond and carried on speaking. “And though you fight to stay alive, your body starts to shiver.”
Dean managed to pull himself up but toppled forwards, landing on top of her. Buffy raised her hands to try and push him off but as she did so she left her neck exposed. Dean lunged forwards with a growl and bit the flesh of her neck around her collar bone. She felt his teeth pierce the skin as he gashed at her in a frenzy, he bit down hard and she felt the skin tear as he pulled away with a mouthful of soft bloody flesh.
“No!” she screamed, images of her turning in to a zombie rushed through her mind. She thought of her friends, she thought of Dawn; memories of her mother ran through her mind.
‘It can’t end like this, not like this!’
Andrew's voice could be heard over the zombies grabbing and biting at her feet and legs.
“For no mere mortal can resist the evil of the thriller.”
Buffy tried to get up; to make one last escape attempt, but got wrestled to the floor. As the zombies closed in around her the faint light available started to disappear. As the weight of the zombies above her grew, she could feel them clawing at her skin, their dirty nails and teeth ripping and tearing the skin from her body.
The last thing she heard was Andrew laughing maniacally.
“A ha ha ha ha ha ha, a ha ha ha ha…..”
-
Buffy sat up quickly, cold sweat trickling down her face and chest. Her hair was matted and clung to her forehead and her pyjamas were dark in patches where she had been sweating. Looking around the darkened room she could see Dean sleeping soundly on the other side of the bed. She pulled him over gently and looked at his face closely to make sure he wasn’t a zombie; everything looked fine. To be sure she nipped him on the arm which caused his to grumble and turn over to look at her. He rubbed at his eyes and tried to focus on her.
“What the hell… what’s going on? Where’s the demon?” he groaned.
“No demon.”
“Then why did you just pinch me?”
“'Cos I wanted to make sure I wasn’t still dreaming!”
“For future reference, you’re supposed to pinch yourself. Why did you wake me?”
“I had a dream… a bad dream!”
“About?”
“You and me.”
Dean grinned and turned over some more. “Now you’re talking,” he laughed. “So that’s why you really woke me, huh?”
“Andrew was there too”
Dean suddenly looked sullen. “Ok, just lost it!”
Buffy laughed but it was more out of relief that the drama was over. Cuddling into Dean she glanced over at the clock; it read 3:40am on the thirsty-first of October.
“Wait a minute… Halloween hasn’t happened yet?” she asked.
“Of course not… we have a whole day of stuff today and as a special treat I have bought tickets to go see a movie tonight!”
“Please tell me its not Halloween?” she said quickly.
“Crap, who told you?” he looked disappointed.
“Can we please just stay in? You know, just have a quiet night together?” she pleaded.
“If that’s what you want?”
“I do…. I really do”
“Fair enough,” he replied.
She lay awake in his arms for a while thinking about the dream. It had been so vivid, and her fear had felt so real. She could have sworn that she remembered feeling real pain as the zombies had bit in to her flesh. Shaking away the image she closed her eyes and begin to drift off to sleep. Just as she nodded off she heard Dean quietly mumbling in his sleep.
“Thriller…thriller night…”