Part 1
The moon was orange. It's rays falling on the pale sand delicately, without any hurry or urgency. As if there was always enough time for it to cover the earth. As if the day never existed and the night was eternity. The black waves crashed against the shore repeatedly, white foam reflecting the glass stars. She sat in the cool sand that flowed through her fingers like silt and cried. Her clear tears hit the soft sand and broke into pieces, seeping into the sand that sifted through her hands as she traced circles and squares and nameless patterns of old. Patterns of a time long forgotten when demons roamed the earth freely and Slayers were non-existent. When man was no more that a monkey and the people sacrificed virgins to their gods.
She'd never lived those times but she remembered them clearly. They flowed through her blood like a battle cry. Like the blood of her kind before her. Who stalked the night in animal fur and silks and war paints. Who lived in the America, Ancient Rome, Greece, England, Africa, China, and Japan. Who only knew the hunt and the kill and the pains of life. Who died alone and painfully amidst demons and nightmares and superstitions that the modern world ignored and the ancient ones kept secret. Who were young girls, women, daughters and Slayers. They all flowed through her.
It was at times like these, when she lay naked among the sand and water and moonbeams, that she could feel their essence . . . hear their whispers. Over an eternity of lives that had died out so that she could be called, could be Slayer. She had died so that others could carry that mighty title, that flame which sputtered and died and was never strong except in battle. She'd seen those who came after her die and embrace evil . . . she'd seen them crack and fail and die. She'd seen them be powerful and strong and beautiful and still die. She'd seen them die. They all died. She didn't die.
Thirty years now since they had buried her body and she still continued on, stalking the demons that had turned her and stolen whatever shred of innocence remained. Turning around in the sand she could feel it slip into the crevices of her body and slid through her hair. Before her the water beckoned, smooth and rippling. Dark and dangerous. Sliding into its coolness she could feel it envelop her, sheath her body and soul until she was under it so far that there was no coming back. It wasn't like she needed to breathe.
The murky depths of the ocean were green and black at once. Alive with creatures that instinctively avoided her as she ventured further. Past long lost articles and secret entities. Past the unknown dangers that subconsciously haunted man every time he ventured out onto the primal sea. She could feel herself sinking but it didn't matter. The water was still cold and she still didn't need to breathe. Stopping her tracks she looked back at the dim horizon, at the dark shapes swirling in the water above her. Smiling ferally she moved back, out of the embrace of the ocean, towards the oblivious humans above. Time to play shark.
The moon was orange. It's rays falling on the pale sand delicately, without any hurry or urgency. As if there was always enough time for it to cover the earth. As if the day never existed and the night was eternity. The black waves crashed against the shore repeatedly, white foam reflecting the glass stars. She sat in the cool sand that flowed through her fingers like silt and cried. Her clear tears hit the soft sand and broke into pieces, seeping into the sand that sifted through her hands as she traced circles and squares and nameless patterns of old. Patterns of a time long forgotten when demons roamed the earth freely and Slayers were non-existent. When man was no more that a monkey and the people sacrificed virgins to their gods.
She'd never lived those times but she remembered them clearly. They flowed through her blood like a battle cry. Like the blood of her kind before her. Who stalked the night in animal fur and silks and war paints. Who lived in the America, Ancient Rome, Greece, England, Africa, China, and Japan. Who only knew the hunt and the kill and the pains of life. Who died alone and painfully amidst demons and nightmares and superstitions that the modern world ignored and the ancient ones kept secret. Who were young girls, women, daughters and Slayers. They all flowed through her.
It was at times like these, when she lay naked among the sand and water and moonbeams, that she could feel their essence . . . hear their whispers. Over an eternity of lives that had died out so that she could be called, could be Slayer. She had died so that others could carry that mighty title, that flame which sputtered and died and was never strong except in battle. She'd seen those who came after her die and embrace evil . . . she'd seen them crack and fail and die. She'd seen them be powerful and strong and beautiful and still die. She'd seen them die. They all died. She didn't die.
Thirty years now since they had buried her body and she still continued on, stalking the demons that had turned her and stolen whatever shred of innocence remained. Turning around in the sand she could feel it slip into the crevices of her body and slid through her hair. Before her the water beckoned, smooth and rippling. Dark and dangerous. Sliding into its coolness she could feel it envelop her, sheath her body and soul until she was under it so far that there was no coming back. It wasn't like she needed to breathe.
The murky depths of the ocean were green and black at once. Alive with creatures that instinctively avoided her as she ventured further. Past long lost articles and secret entities. Past the unknown dangers that subconsciously haunted man every time he ventured out onto the primal sea. She could feel herself sinking but it didn't matter. The water was still cold and she still didn't need to breathe. Stopping her tracks she looked back at the dim horizon, at the dark shapes swirling in the water above her. Smiling ferally she moved back, out of the embrace of the ocean, towards the oblivious humans above. Time to play shark.