The Slayer Chronicles:
Christine
"Here's the proof," Christine thought. "My lover is unfaithful."
The news wasn't shocking. She had expected it. She had been suspicious for some time. Marcus had been vague, elusive, non-committal when he had been with her.
He was becoming more single-minded each day. All he focused on was the work. Research. Training. More training. Study. More study. He hadn't even tried to touch her hand in a very long time. And now this lover letter to "Maya" was proof.
No. Christine felt no shock.
She felt blinding, white-hot rage.
She tore the letter into tiny little pieces. Marcus would pay for this betrayal. Christine was not without means. She was the Vampire Slayer after all. She had the strength, the speed, and the cunning. All she had to do was those gifts. Christine spun on her heel and left Marcus's study.
* * *
Christine walked quickly along the streets of Vienna. Her skirts swished about her legs and her cloak flew out behind her. Marcus would lecture her that her evening dress and cloak were not prime fighting clothes. Normally she would dress as a boy when patrolling. Pants gave her more freedom of movement than a woman's dress. Dressing as a boy was quite shocking for the people of 1710. Tonight she had been too angry to change.
She pitied any vampires that crossed her path. As it was she didn't see the young woman follow her very quietly and very stealthily.
Part of her knew it had been wrong to get involved with Marcus. He was older than she was, nearly 10 years older. However, Slayers tended to mature faster than the average girl does. So 17 was quite old for a Slayer.
The second reason why she should not have become involved with Marcus: he was her Watcher. He was sent to guide her in her quest against evil. Not bring her to his bed.
Now he had spent nights in the arms of another.
She screamed in anger. "Bastard! I will have you suffer as I have!"
She thought about writing the Watcher's Council in London and telling that Marcus had seduced her, thereby violating his vows as a Watcher. It would destroy his career and his reputation.
He'd be an outcast. That had a certain appeal.
She walked faster along the darkened streets as she warmed to her idea of revenge, still unaware of the other woman behind her who also quickened her pace. "So, I could ruin his career. Ruin him. But that's not enough. I could beat him within an inch of his life. No. Too barbaric. And wounds heal."
She couldn't kill him. She wouldn't stoop that low. She wanted him to suffer. Really suffer.
She stopped suddenly, pondering her thought. "I wish…I wish…I wish Marcus's soul would be torn from his body and made to suffer every torment his mind can devise."
"Done," a voice said from behind the Slayer.
Christine spun around and found a pretty young woman with brown hair done up in the latest fashion and the most elegant clothes. She also noticed a beautiful emerald necklace nestled at the base of the woman's throat.
Christine frowned at the intrusion but before she could ask who the woman was, the woman's appearance…changed. Smooth white skin, turned dark and bumpy, as if all the veins in her face stood out at once. Her eyes darkened to a deep black.
Christine's shortsword was instantly in her hand. "Who are you?"
"I am Anyanka, Patron of Scorned Women. I felt your anger and followed you. I heard your wish and have granted it."
Christine frowned in misunderstanding. "What are you talking about, Demon?"
"You wished that you're lover's soul was torn from his body and would suffer every torment his mind could devise. It is done."
Christine's eyes widened in horror. "But I didn't mean it! I was angry! In pain! I didn't mean it!"
Anyanka sighed. "Nevertheless, it is done. Would you like to see?"
Without waiting for a response, Anyanka waved her hand and in midair a picture formed. Christine saw Marcus bound spread-eagled to a long wooden table. As she watched, some invisible hand cranked a wheel, causing his arms and legs to be stretched even further away from his body. As she continued to watch the crank kept turning and Marcus began to scream. His arms and legs were slowly being torn from his body.
Christine brought her sword up to press against Anyanka's throat. "Make it stop!"
Anyanka tried to shrug but found it difficult with a sword against her throat. "I cannot. You wished for this, and I made it happen."
"Then I wish for Marcus to be safe and away from those tortures."
"My powers don't work that way."
"Well, maybe if I kill you then this will all be undone." Christine pressed the blade harder against Anyanka's throat.
"You cannot kill me. I'm 900 years old. Steel cannot harm me."
Christine slit the demon's throat. Anyanka's body slid to the stone street. Christine turned back to the bubble Anyanka had drawn in the air. Marcus was still there but this time his arms and legs were completely severed from his torso. Blood gushed from the wounds, bone and torn ligaments poked out from the sockets. And yet, Marcus still screamed. He could not die here. All he could do was feel the pain.
Good Lord, what had she done?
"You know what's ironic?" Anyanka's voice drifted over to her.
Christine spun around in surprise. The demon was standing upright again, only this time her beautiful dress was stained with blood.
"He had never been unfaithful to you."
"What?" Christine's voice was breathy, like she had had the wind knocked out of her.
"The Council was getting suspicious of your relationship with your Watcher. So he created Maya as a ruse to throw them off the trail. You were never meant to know anything about it."
Christine sunk to her knees. "Oh God…Marcus…"
She watched more of Marcus's tortures. He was burned at the stake, stoned to death, had a vampire drink from him, a demon eat him alive, and more. All the while he screamed and begged for mercy. She screamed and cried along with him.
The worst came when he imagined her death and him standing over her grave. He cried harder at this torture and she felt completely numb. She had betrayed him. He had tried to protect her and she had thrown him to his worst nightmares. God forgive her. Marcus forgive her.
"When will this stop?" Her voice was horse from crying.
"When his mind has stopped devising tortures. Then his soul will be returned to his body. He will remember everything."
"No mercy then."
"No, no mercy. He may be driven mad from the memories."
"Marcus is strong, but that may be his undoing." Christine stared blankly ahead of her. She'd never be able to look at him again. She wasn't sure if she could live with herself after this.
"There's more to see." Anyanka's voice held no real pleasure, nor did it hold any real regret. She was doing her job. And after 900 years she had probably seen it all.
"I don't want to see it. Be gone Demon. I have work to do."
Christine stood up and picked up her shortsword that she had dropped hours ago.
"You cannot save him, Slayer. What is done, is done."
Christine did not look back at Anyanka. "I did not mean, Marcus."
She started walking. Whether Anyanka followed her or not, Christine was beyond caring. Anyanka was right. There was nothing Christine could do to help Marcus. She was the Vampire Slayer. There was evil to fight. Much of it existed in Vienna. Including Christine, herself.
* * *
Marcus's soul was returned to his body, 2 weeks later. His body showed no signs of the tortures but his mind was fractured. The Council's operatives found him in his room, shivering and suffering from malnutrition. They brought him back to London and made him very comfortable in a sanitarium. He would remain there for a few years. After which he managed to find a sharp object and slit his own throat. He never knew that Christine had been the one to ruin his life.
Christine died two nights after meeting Anyanka and sending her lover to a hell place. She found the toughest situations and plunged right in. She could not bear to live with the guilt of what she had done. She could not attempt suicide; there was no honor in that. Marcus would have been sorely disappointed. She wanted to die for what she had been born for: fighting the plague of vampires. She hoped to take out as many demons as she could in the vain hope that she may redeem herself. Even if it was only a little. Finally she found a battle that she could not win. She had her throat torn out by a 350-year-old vampire.
* * *
Anyanka had watched the developments of Christine the Vampire Slayer and her Watcher, Marcus. This had been great fun. It had provided her with much amusement. Christine had not been the first Slayer Anyanka had run across but she had been the first to falsely accuse her lover. Slayers tended to feel more deeply and more passionately about their lovers than others. They had such short life spans that they usually tried to fit as much in that life as possible. Because of this, Anyanka wondered why more of them just stayed away from romantic entanglements in the first place.
No, Christine had not been the first Slayer, nor, Anyanka suspected, would she be the last. The next Slayer would not provide much resistance either. That girl would crumble as well.
Anyanka had no way of knowing that the next Slayer she met would not be the one who called her. Nor would she know that the next Slayer would be the one to stop her reign of terror. Nor did she know that the next Slayer would have a friend that Anyanka would fall deeply in love with and that the next Slayer would become a friend of hers.
Anyanka smiled from the shadows of the sanitarium room, where Marcus lay on the floor, blood gushing from the throat wound.
God she loved her work.