He once had a wonderful life. He once had a future. He once had the girlfriend, the band, the entire world ahead of him, a fantastic feature film backlit by the hazy smoke-filled sunsets of Southern California.
Like Jesus in the wilderness, it was offered to him. "Be with her, be with them, be with all this," the voice crooned, but instead of the Devil, it was a Wolf behind him, sharp canine breath on the back of his neck.
He took it — Christ how could he not? How could he not want to be a real boy? How could he submit to primal urges and hungers, a flower child's child, veggie since birth suddenly craving raw flesh and blood?
Never again. He was himself; he was not that; he would never be that and all the full moons in all the years couldn't change him. No sir, no magic here, no problems here, just a boy with a van and a guitar and a deal with the Devil — oh no, sir, I didn't say that, please don't think that, I'm just like you, I am like you, please oh please don't use that bat please don't get that rope...
He took all that the Wolf offered him, and, as in all dealings with the Devil/Wolf, he was burned. Burned and bloodied and swinging in the wind, swinging back and forth, because who can tolerate a monster in this town? Who can shall let a witch thrive?
He had to be a witch, for no God-fearing Christian would let himself change into an animal. No God-fearing Christian would wear what he wore or do what he did and no one would ever be seen killing the livestock with sharp shining teeth as blood clotted on soft brown fur.
A monster. A witch. And, as he swung in the wind, dead. Another life lost to the bitch-goddess Perfection.
No perfect life, just a rope, a tree, and a man.
No perfect world, just another victim.
Nothing, just Oz. Dead.
"And now my feet don't touch the ground..."
This Angel/Buffy the Vampire Slayer story was written by Kate Bolin. If you liked it, there's plenty more at http://www.dymphna.net/fanfic/. And you can feedback her at dymphna@dymphna.net.