Road To Recovery

Disclaimer: SlayerConcepts and Darla belong to Joss Whedon, Enjolras and Courfeyrac belong to Hugo. No money involved with this.

A young woman, by the name of Adrienne Bellefeuille, with long red hair is seated at an oaken desk inside her friend's flat. There's several sheets of paper in front of her along with an ink well and a quill. Her face and arms both bear long claw marks, and several white bandages are bound tightly around her middle. Green eyes show a haunted, perpetual fear as she scrawls across the page.

Damn it. I don't believe it. I don't want to believe it. Enjolras and Mademoiselle Deveraux. Gone. Just like that. Except it's worse than that. They weren't just gone, per se, but possessed. Demons. God help me, vampires. I never should have trusted her. She was far too friendly, as she asked me to help her find Enjolras, and far too casual when she suggested searching that old, decrepit building. I should have known better than to suspect he would ever venture into such a hole.

But I didn't. I was too trusting. Too blind to the paleness- ghostly, in retrospect- appearance of her skin and the malicious smirk on her face.

They were going to kill me. Sink those hideous fangs into my neck and... God. I don't even want to think about it.

Mademoiselle Deveraux was the one who clawed me, of course. I thought it was all some sick, ridiculous joke until she raked her nails down my cheek, smiling at the horror on my face as I saw Enjolras lean forward, past my face, to lick the blood off. The very thought of it still makes me shiver.

I walked in there not ready to be murdered. I'm only nineteen. I don't want to die. I couldn't help crying. I've never been so scared in my entire life. Only when they-

A few tears drip from the girl's cheeks, staining the paper and causing the ink to run. With a trembling hand, she slowly dips the quill back into the ink, letting it set there as she tries to compose herself. She doesn't want to go on. She doesn't want to acknowledge what happened, as if somehow if the words aren't written, then they won't be made real and she will be allowed to awaken into a world where she hasn't borne witness to the unimaginable horrors she's faced in days gone by. Still, a greater force than fear and denial compels her to continue and once again, she begins to write furiously across the page in nearly undecipherable hen scratchings.

- They threatened to pluck my eyes out. To rip my vocal chords from my throat should I continue. I couldn't stop the tears from running down my face, though.

It was only luck that another vampire happened to interrupt them. Mademoiselle Deveraux didn't seem to like her much. I tried to talk to her as Enjolras told the newcomer about how I had him arrested, but it didn't do any good, of course.

They argued for a few moments, and soon, the attention was back on me again. The new vampire threatened to send me home in pieces. Started asking personal questions, did I have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend? Wasn't there anyone who'd care if she tore my throat out? Those sorts of things....

I think they would've killed me then if some strange girl hadn't shown up. A Slayer...I think one of the vampires called her. She sure seemed to know what she was doing, anyway. And she was as strong as they were too.

They fought for a few minutes, but unfortunately, the vampires came out victorious. She was pretty badly outnumbered, and they had managed to disarm her, the stake skittering across the floor to land near where I was. So I tucked it under my skirt and stayed absolutely still. It wouldn't do any good to let them get their hands on it. In fact, I'd no doubt it'd be exceptionally bad.

A few more minutes and the latest vampire to show up left, and the girl managed to free herself from the grasp of the other two. I think they were trying to literally tear her limb from limb. I took the chance and sent the stake careening across the floor. Couldn't help but breathe a relieved sigh when she caught it, smiling.

She would've killed them both, I think, were it not for me. Enjolras threatened to kill me until she put down the stake and then let Jeannette tie her up with rope.

They stabbed the poor girl with her own stake and, God damn them, laughed about it! I couldn't stop myself, and before I knew it, I'd called them a pair of cowards. I thought, I don't know, maybe if I could just keep their attention on me for a bit, the girl could find a way to free herself. I was pretty sure I was going to die anyway. I just wanted to try to at least prolong someone else's life in exchange. I made them angry enough that Enjolras

She stops again, running her right hand over the bandages as the left clutches the quill tightly. Her eyes close tightly against the memories cascading over her, as though that simple action could block them out. A deep breath and slowly, she begins writing again.

stabbed me in the side with the stake. It hurt so much I thought it was over right then and there. But my distraction gave the girl they kept calling 'Slayer' time enough to free herself, and then me.

I don't remember much after that. I know when she yelled at me to, I took off. And that I didn't get very far. And that Courfeyrac took me back to his flat. I can't help but wondering, and hoping, if the Slayer's all right.

I don't know. Most of what I remember I can't escape anyway. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since all of this... and I don't know if I ever will.... I just want it all to end.

She sets the quill back into the ink well and stares at the page. She rereads it, and then again before crumpling it up in one hand and throwing into a waste bin. Tears well up in her eyes again and she wipes at them fiercely. "There," she murmurs. "It was out, it was released onto paper, and now... Just let me get over it..."