Chronicles of the Slayers
Author's note: The characters in this are my own (except where applicable), the universe in which they are placed belongs to Joss Whedon and/or anyone else to who credit is due for BtVS.
I
Paris. June 23, 1717
It was nearly midnight, but the lavish party at 19 Rue de Saint-Francois was still in full swing. All the upper class of Paris was in attendance, including Christophe Aureu, the Duke of Lyon and his daughter, Antoinette. Antoinette had just celebrated her 15th birthday, she was considered to be the most sought-after bachelorette in all of France. As was the way with the upper class, rumors had developed all around her. The most popular was that the Prince was to ask for her hand in marriage. She was the center of attention in Parisian society, and she could not have been happier. There was nothing Antoinette loved more than to be the focus of attention, the long figure at the top. There was only one person that did not like her to be in this place, her hand-madien, Michelle.
Michelle knew that Antoinette exploited the attention she was given. She used it to make many friends, and many more enemies. Michelle looked enough like Antoinette that she stood in for her when Antoinette did not wish to be placed in danger. Michelle thought Antoinette was reckless, if she continued down this path; she would not live long enough to actually be married. Antoinette wanted not only social attention, but also political power. She was planning a coup in the name of her father. Michelle wanted nothing more than to get as far away from the Aureu family as possible. However, she was indentured to them. Her family came from a poor village in the south of France. That was all she knew of her family. She was given to the Aureu family in lieu of tax money when she was just an infant. Or so she had been told.
Michelle stood dutifully next to Antoinette as all the bachelors of Paris greeted her. She followed Antoinette around the Manor as she formed and broke alliances with a beautiful swiftness and cunning uncommon even in the affluent Parisian upper class. As the clock in the parlor chimed one in the morning, Antoinette announced her displeasure with the party and requested that she return to her own house, across town. The coach was summoned and all things were prepared with the speed of fear-ridden employees. They knew the punishment if one thing were to go wrong or take too long for Antoinette, they would answer to her father.
When she was prepared and after she bade goodbye to her adoring public, the coach set off to the Aureu Manor, on the outskirts of Eastern Paris. The ride was silent, with only the sounds of horse hooves echoing off the empty street around them.
"It is too quiet here, I think." Antoinette said frankly, as if ordering something to break the silence. One of her other handmaidens, Yvette, decided to obey the request.
"It was a wonderfully party. Do you agree, Madam Antoinette?"
"Yes, it was amusing. But the Bourbons are so pedestrian. They're barely even noble." Antoinette so enjoyed gossiping about the other Parisian families. There were sounds of agreement from Michelle and Yvette. "Michelle. A man was looking for you at the party. An older man, British, I think. He said he needed to see you urgently. I must have forgotten until now."
"Where was I?" Michelle asked, not remembering any time she had left her mistress' side.
"Oh, you were staring off into nothing, again." Antoinette had been waiting for just the right moment to reprimand her servant.
"I apologize, Madam."
"It is forgiven."
"Did you tell him anything?"
"Only that should he want to see you, he should come by our house tomorrow. That is, of course, if I have no need of you."
"Yes, of course, Madam Antoinette. My duty is to you alone." Michelle repeated the words she so often repeated they had lost all meaning.
"Like the music of the Angels." Antoinette leaned against the velvet upholstery of the carriage, closing her eyes. Her perfectly prepared blonde hair rustling slightly on her head, falling on the shoulders of her new red dress. Her face was long, but not too long; round, but not too round, and strikingly beautiful. She had raging green eyes, and a slightly upturned nose. Michelle, on the other hand, was somewhat plainer than Antoinette, though Michelle attributed this to the fact that she was never as dolled up as Antoinette was. Michelle had muted red hair, a rounded face, subdued blue eyes, and a rather flat nose. The ride continued in silence until there came a noise on the street outside. Michelle tried to hear better, but the sound of the horse hooves overpowered it just enough so that it could not be understood. It sounded like someone was talking, Michelle could only make out one word, "vampire."
Michelle was not particularly skeptical, nor was she a believer in nonsense about Vampires and Demons. She had heard enough of it from Luc, the stable boy who had a strange interest in things of that sort. When she was free from the constant requests and nagging of Antoinette, Michelle spent her time in the stables talking with Luc. He was an interesting character, a few years older the Michelle, he entered into working for the Aureu family as Michelle did. The two of them spoke for hours, or however long Michelle was free from Antoinette. Michelle felt she could truly connect with Luc. She knew she fancied him, and he was quite handsome, a glow that came with long hours working in the sun, black hair, a handsome and defined face, and mysterious hazel eyes. There had been rumors with the other servants that he and Antoinette were having an affair. Though Michelle never believed it, Luc was much too of a gentleman to do that. He also despised the girl almost as much as Michelle did. Michelle became lost in thought over Luc; she did not even notice that the carriage had stopped. She was roused from thought by Antoinette's frustrated yelling at the driver.
"This is not my house! Why have we stopped! Where are we? Answer me!" There was no answer from outside. An incensed Antoinette turned to the girls. "Michelle, go and see why the driver stopped here."
"Yes, Madam." Michelle said, years of conditioning forcing the "madam" into the end of her sentence.
As Michelle stepped out of the carriage, she knew something was not right. She looked up to where the driver would be, and there was no one. The reigns had fallen between the horses and were swinging slowly. Michelle heard a noise behind her, and turned to see nothing but the entry to a dark alley.
"H-hello?" Michelle asked the darkness. "Is a-anyone there?" Another, louder noise came from the alley this time, a glass bottle rolled along the cobblestones. "Who's there?" Michelle asked, a strange feeling of strength welled up inside her. Her response was only a small black cat, pushing a bottle with its nose. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief, and turned back toward the carriage.
"Where is he?" Antoinette called out the window.
"I'm not sure, Madam. He's not in his proper place."
"Damn it all. Well, someone has to drive us home. We're not too far, I think. Can you do it, Michelle?" Antoinette ordered more than asked.
"Of course, Madam." Michelle pulled herself up to the driver's spot with incredible ease. She reached forward and grabbed the reins, and then the coach was off again, headed towards the manor once again.
The manor was not far from here. How strange that the driver would just off and leave like that. And without anyone noticing, even stranger. Michelle tried not to frighten herself with the possibilities. Robbers, murderers, or worse. Her thoughts drifted back to a conversation she had with Luc only a few days earlier.
They were sitting in the stable, while Antoinette was doing her riding lessons; he was throwing bails of hey from one end of the barn to the other. He began the conversation out of the blue, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
"Pardon?" She asked with little thought in her mind.
"Ghosts. Do you believe in them?" He repeated, not looking up from his work.
"I'm not sure. I think the idea that someone could leave an imprint of his or her former selves on earth is interesting. But I don't think it happens. Why do you ask?"
"Because they do exist." He said simply.
"Really. And you have proof?"
"Proof? I saw one. My mother, actually."
"You came here when you were younger than I was, do you even remember what she looked like?"
"Its not that I remember what she looked like. It's that I knew what she looked like. It's hard to explain, but when I saw her, I knew it was my mother."
"Well, if you've seen ghosts, why haven't I?"
"I don't know. Because you refuse to acknowledge their existence, perhaps."
"I do not refuse to acknowledge them. I am simply, a little more grounded than you, I suppose."
"That is true. But what do you gain from being grounded. Here, not paying attention to all the amazing things right before you."
"I pay attention to many amazing things before me. I am simply less willing to accept that my mother could come speak to me, if she is dead."
"What about vampires?" He said, glancing at her, a slight smirk over his face.
"Vampires? You mean, do I believe in them?"
"Believe, care about, have you seen one?" He stopped and leaned against the pitchfork, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.
"I do not know if I've ever seen one. I certainly would not care for some blood-sucking fiend," Michelle said the final part certainly, leaving no room for question, "but I do believe in them."
"Really?" Luc looked skeptical that this girl was willing to believe in something like vampires.
"Yes. I remember, when I first came here, when I was old enough to remember, the Duke came back from Lyon and said that there was a rash of deaths there. They all had strange markings on their necks; bite marks, I remember he said. One of the servants said it sounded like vampires."
"Huh. I don't remember that."
"It only happened once. That was all I remember."
"Why then, when you have a first hand account of a ghost do you refuse to believe in their existence?"
"This again?"
"Well, you accept the word of another servant over mine?"
"And what are you, if not another servant? It just seemed more plausible when they spoke of it."
"Alright. Believe what you want. But I know that ghosts are real." Luc returned to his work as Antoinette reentered the stable.
"Luc, would you get my horse and put her in her away?" She said sweetly.
"Of course, madam." He left, leaving Michelle frustrated.
The road winded, hiding what was just ahead. Michelle slowed the carriage, moving cautiously. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse someone, or something, dashing between two buildings. There was a sound. Laughing? No, crying. Someone was crying, not far from where Michelle was. She stopped the carriage, and hopped down.
"Why have we stopped?" Antoinette cried out the window. "I demand an answer, Michelle!"
"I hear something Madam, someone's hurt." Michelle moved closer to the alley where the sound was coming from.
"Well someone is not of my concern! My only concern is to get home and go to bed!" Michelle was not listening anymore. She was only focused in seeing what was here. As she entered the alley, the crying grew louder. It was a girl crying, and she was saying something over and over again, but it was indistinct.
"Hello? Is anyone here hurt?" Michelle moved further into the alley. It was impossible to see more than ten feet in front of her. The alley turned, as Michelle rounded the corner, she could see a figure on the ground. A girl, not any older than Michelle was. "Hello? Are you alright?"
The girl was startled out of her sobs. She was dressed as a peasant, a simple dress and her hair in a scarf. She turned to face Michelle. Something was wrong with her face; Michelle could not tell in the dark, her face was deformed around her forehead. "What's the matter?" Michelle asked, leaning in to see her face better.
A voice from behind her proclaimed, "She is a vampire."
Michelle jumped and turned to see a man, taller than her, wearing glasses with graying hair. He wore a black coat and was dressed for a party. Michelle had a feeling this was the man who was looking for her. "She is a vampire, and it is your duty to kill her."
"What?" Michelle looked at this girl, lying on the ground, still sobbing.
"I will explain later, but right now. You must take this," He handed her a wooden stake, "and end her miserable existence."
"But, she is in pain, we must help her."
"Believe me, Michelle, the best way to help her is to drive this stake through her heart. She is in a world of pain, this is save her from it."
Michelle took the stake and moved toward the girl. She could see clearly now her face was deformed, her eyes yellow, and two large fangs were visible in her open mouth. The man said from behind her, "That is the face of evil. The deformity of the demon inside her now." Michelle moved closer, raising the stake above the girls sobbing form. She could hear now, what the girl was saying, "so hungry, so hungry, so hungry." She looked up at Michelle, and a sort of smile spread across her face. Before Michelle knew it, the girl leaped up and was now standing directly in front of her. Michelle raised the stake to strike her heart, but it was struck away with great strength.
The man behind her spoke again, "She is strong, but you are stronger. Fight her. Either drive a wooden stake through her heart or cut off her head."
Michelle swung at the girl, again and again. The two of them scuffled and fought around the alley for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally, when Michelle could see that the girl was weakened, the man behind her said, "Now, take the stake and end it." Michelle reached for the stake and struck. Striking first the stomach. "Higher." The man said simply. Michelle struck again, this time feeling the sternum break and the stake driving through the heart. The girl screamed and turned to dust. Michelle dropped the stake and moved backwards. "It is not an enjoyable job, but it needs to be done." She turned to face him. He cleaned his glasses.
"By who?" Michelle asked, dumbstruck.
"By you." He said. "Into every generation a slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One, one with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires, to stop the spread of their evil ways, to cease their destructive manners, to prevent the end of the world. When one Slayer dies, the next one is called. You are the Slayer, you've been called. My name is Gerard Carpenter, and I am to be your watcher." He held out his hand for her to shake it. Michelle stood, reeling from what she had been told.
"I-what?" the alley fell away from Michelle, and there was only darkness as she tumbled to the ground.
"Oh, bloody hell." Gerard picked her up and walked her back to his carriage, on the other side of the alley. He could hear another girl yelling on the other side of the building, "Michelle? Where are you? Michelle! If I ever find you, I swear my father will hear all about this insolence!"
Gerard placed Michelle in the back of his carriage, took the drivers seat and drove to his house, on the Rue la Seine, overlooking the river. He placed her in the extra bed he had prepared for when next Slayer was to awaken. He had watched this potential slayer, only able to train the other in Paris. All the while, knowing that this day would come soon or not at all. It is a fickle power that chooses who the next slayer would be. It could have just as easily been another in Paris, or London, or the New World, or Russia, anywhere. Any major city in Europe probably had a potential slayer in it. Any number of them, the burden of possibly being slayer was lifted from them now. They were the lucky ones. Fate had chosen this one. This small, unassuming girl of barely 16. Her life had changed forever. No longer would she be indentured to the Duke of Lyon. She was indentured to the world now. Something he did not think someone like the Duke or his doting daughter would ever be able to understand. Antoinette had simply told him that he would have to come by their house tomorrow. "Assuming, of course, I have no need of her." The audacity of the girl! To think that the forces of hell and darkness would wait until she no longer needed her servant. But that was of no matter now. He had Michelle now and the training could begin. There was so much he needed to tell her, but it could wait until morning. Michelle had just fought her first vampire, and did a lot better than Gerard thought she would have, though this was only the first in an endless army of demons and monsters that Michelle would fight and fall before. It was inevitable. The life span of a Slayer was inherently short, but it was Gerard's job to pass on the wisdom of the council and train her to fight against the forces that would kill her.
But tonight she would rest, falsely save in the thought that she would awake and be only the servant of the needy daughter of a nobleman. Come morning, her world would change beyond her deepest and wildest fear.
end of chapter one. More to come, read and review, please!