Spike + OTA
WHO: Spike + Anyone WHAT: New arrival to Madison Valley. WHEN: Evening WHERE: Outside Madison Valley Creamery WARNINGS: Potentially a bit of bad language? STATUS: Finished.
One moment he'd been in the caves beneath the high school, fighting the good fight, making the big sacrifice, the next he was swallowed up in white light. When his vision cleared he was stood on a fairly standard sidewalk outside an ice-cream parlor, a slight pattering of drizzle falling upon his gelled head.
He looked around, seeking someone, anyone who could explain what the hot hell was going on. Was he dead? Was this heaven? Was this hell? Hell seemed more likely, given all he had done, but it didn't look particularly hellish. If it was heaven then the ice cream was likely to be top notch, but he wasn't seeing anybody looking very angelic.
Wherever he was, it was colder than the Californian summer he'd left. "Madison Valley," he read off the sign of the ice cream parlor. Sounded like one of those cutesy American suburbs.