Story: The Darkness Inside
Info: Season 3 BtVS – OC focus – B/A, A/OC, S/OC
Rating: T overall, with some M chapters, I'm sure.
Summary: Natalya Jordan is the unknown Slayer. Or, she was. Natalya was the Slayer for 5 days before her death. When she died, the next was chosen: Buffy. The problem is Natalya isn't dead. Or, not gone, at least. She has changed, and now must struggle with herself to find her place in the world, and her place in her body.
Chapter: Prologue
Author's Notes:
So, my new project. I'm sorry to any that were reading my two other stories. They are on major hiatus right now. I just can't get anywhere with them. This one, however, I am very confident about. Very, very confident. I love it, and I hope you all love it too. xD
And please review and let me know what you think! And yes, I love short prologues.... _
An unbelievable surge of senses was coming over her. Every sound was clear as a bell, sounded mere inches away. Every smell was almost overwhelmingly intense, but sent ripples of pleasure through her. She opened her eyes and every detail was a vibrant and sharp pinprick. The pair of dark eyes looming over her had a glitter to them like she had never seen. Two pairs of eyes now.
Gotta run. Gotta flee. Can't flee. There is no escape for what is inside. I can't escape me. Can't….
"Willy…. I want to be a slayer…."
"Ye can't be a slayer, Dru. You…." A sigh. "Pointless."
"Little daughter is a slayer. Good, strong little daughter. Little girl, so pretty."
Too much pain. Too much confusion.
Pale hands with long, painted fingernails wrapped around her upper arms with intense grip and pulled her to a sitting position. Her head spun in a rush and she had to reach out to keep herself upright. Then the rush passed and pure elation replaced it, quickly followed by overpowering hunger.
The taste of blood was like an elixir to her. She needed it, craved it. And it made her insides cringe.
"Happy awakening, daughter." The voice was high and drawn out, like a predator's purr.
"Yeah, pet. Happy awakening." And what a smooth, alluring voice that was.
Her existence was a paradox.
She had never stood on the Golden Gate Bridge at night. The city glowed brilliantly behind her, and in front of her, the gloom and safety of the redwoods. No hope of acclimation. Had to hide, had to hold control. She couldn't give in to the thirst.
She shouldn't exist.
"Nattie, darling…. Ye're making a huge mistake."
"Stay away from me!"
"Can't. We're connected, you and I."
"No."
"Accept it, bird."
"NO!"
The two halves of her existence battled each other.
Sewers had never smelt this bad. Her enhanced senses made everything so much more… disgusting. A sound behind her made her turn suddenly. A small boy stood there, staring at her.
"I lost my mommy."
"Run."
Run. Gotta keep running. Can't give in to temptation. So thirsty.
It hurt. Pain rippled her abdomen.
"You don't look so good…. Need a drink?" A stranger, offering her a drink? A drink of what?
Blood. She could smell it and it ripped at her insides. She lunged at the limp form being held out to her. She was already dead, but her blood was still warm.
Relief.
Panting, she ran. Frantic, she hid. But the demon always was there, and temptation always found her.
