'God-dammit! Where the hell are you, B?'
Faith drove her arm squarely into yet another Slayer's throat. The girl coughed and fell, but there were dozens of others ready to take the fallen girl's place. They just kept on coming. Faith could have sworn there were hundreds of them.
'Focus, Faith. Focus. You don't feel pain. You don't feel exhaustion. You are one of two people who really knows how to fight here, and you're outnumbered by more than you want to think about. Can't afford to slip up here. Just can't.'
It was like her body was on autopilot-a robot programmed to fight and slaughter. There had been a time when Faith had enjoyed the fight. Hell, she had lived for it, and a really foul kill had always made her all tingly deep down. Back then, a good kill had been better than sex. For years, she had feared that part of her-the part that reveled in doing violence that she always feared would drag her back into the darkness. Well, the numbness that was now taking over her mind and body told her she needn't have feared. There was no joy in this, only emptiness, and she was no longer sure if that was preferable to the fire. Maybe Harris wasn't the only one who was dead inside.
For all Faith knew, she was the only one left fighting.
Kick, punch, pull, and do it again.
The others could all be dead or wishing they were, and she would have no idea.
Bite, throw, crush. Ignore the blood that was running into her eyes and hazing her vision. Just fight. Survive.
"Oh god, no!"
The horrified note in Spike's voice snapped Faith out of her mechanical state. She whirled around just in time to see the Brit double over and heave.
'Jesus Christ.'
The body at Spike's feet was far too tiny, just a little girl. Faith guessed she could not have been older than 10 at best, though it was hard to tell given that Spike had torn the girl's throat out.
"No," Spike said, dropping to his knees beside the dead girl. "No. I'm not a monster anymore. I didn't realize." He shook the body as if he could shake life back into the child. "NO!!!!!!!!!!"
'Shit!'
"Spike! Snap out of it!" There was no time. No time to mourn for the dead, even if they were only children.
Faith was about to go to the vampire's aid when a dragging weight made her realize she was holding something. She glanced down to see her blood-coated hand wrapped around an old lady's neck.
'Guess Slayers really do come in all ages,' said a hysterical little voice in the back of Faith's mind. She had literally squeezed the elderly woman's neck so tightly, she hadn't just crushed it, she'd made it completely collapse. The gray-haired head was tilted at an unnatural angle, the eyes bulged, the lips were covered in dried blood. It reminded Faith of when she was a kid, popping the heads off dandelions. Faith shrieked, releasing her hold, horrified at the feel of blood and flesh and other unspeakable things in her hand. The gray head separated from the lady's shoulders and her body went down. For reasons she couldn't quite grasp right now, it bothered Faith tremendously to find the elderly Slayer's glasses crushed beneath Faith's boots.
'No. Not again. Blood. So much blood.'
Faith stared at her hands in horror, Spike and his similar crisis entirely forgotten. It was happening again. It was just like being back in Angel's basement again, the blood of the assassin Wolfram and Hart sent after her slicking her palms. Angel was wrong. No matter how hard she tried, she was a killer. Always would be.
A voice in the recesses of Faith's mind was yelling at her to fight, to give in to her survival instincts once more. The sound of Dawn screaming was enough to make her pay attention to that voice, but it was too late. She had stood still too long. Something hard and heavy slammed into her temple and she went down, fighting darkness.
Her vision swam red, and the noise around her sounded like it was echoing through a distant tunnel. Spike was down. They were binding him with blessed ropes that burned through his skin as she watched, but he just kept apologizing to the dead little girl, sobbing like a man broken. Dawn too was sobbing. The girl was covered in blood that Faith feared was mostly Dawn's own.
'B's gonna kill me. Maybe she should.'
Andrew and Xander were no where to be found, and Faith found a moment to hope the two of them had gotten out before a mightily pissed off Slayer whose appearance fit every stereotype of a hardened prison Butch started pummeling Faith in the face.
'Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun.'
The elderly Slayer's decapitated head lay by her, the dead eyes boring into Faith's memory. It was a blessing when the darkness claimed her, and for the first time in years, Faith found herself hoping the light would never return.
:Author's notes:
Sorry for the cliffhanger ending. Thanks as always to Cliia!
Only one feedback this time. *sighs* Oh well. Can't win them all.
Bsktballchik: Thanks! Guess I didn't update as quickly as I should have. *grimaces* Sorry about that. I'll try to do better next time. ^_~
Faith drove her arm squarely into yet another Slayer's throat. The girl coughed and fell, but there were dozens of others ready to take the fallen girl's place. They just kept on coming. Faith could have sworn there were hundreds of them.
'Focus, Faith. Focus. You don't feel pain. You don't feel exhaustion. You are one of two people who really knows how to fight here, and you're outnumbered by more than you want to think about. Can't afford to slip up here. Just can't.'
It was like her body was on autopilot-a robot programmed to fight and slaughter. There had been a time when Faith had enjoyed the fight. Hell, she had lived for it, and a really foul kill had always made her all tingly deep down. Back then, a good kill had been better than sex. For years, she had feared that part of her-the part that reveled in doing violence that she always feared would drag her back into the darkness. Well, the numbness that was now taking over her mind and body told her she needn't have feared. There was no joy in this, only emptiness, and she was no longer sure if that was preferable to the fire. Maybe Harris wasn't the only one who was dead inside.
For all Faith knew, she was the only one left fighting.
Kick, punch, pull, and do it again.
The others could all be dead or wishing they were, and she would have no idea.
Bite, throw, crush. Ignore the blood that was running into her eyes and hazing her vision. Just fight. Survive.
"Oh god, no!"
The horrified note in Spike's voice snapped Faith out of her mechanical state. She whirled around just in time to see the Brit double over and heave.
'Jesus Christ.'
The body at Spike's feet was far too tiny, just a little girl. Faith guessed she could not have been older than 10 at best, though it was hard to tell given that Spike had torn the girl's throat out.
"No," Spike said, dropping to his knees beside the dead girl. "No. I'm not a monster anymore. I didn't realize." He shook the body as if he could shake life back into the child. "NO!!!!!!!!!!"
'Shit!'
"Spike! Snap out of it!" There was no time. No time to mourn for the dead, even if they were only children.
Faith was about to go to the vampire's aid when a dragging weight made her realize she was holding something. She glanced down to see her blood-coated hand wrapped around an old lady's neck.
'Guess Slayers really do come in all ages,' said a hysterical little voice in the back of Faith's mind. She had literally squeezed the elderly woman's neck so tightly, she hadn't just crushed it, she'd made it completely collapse. The gray-haired head was tilted at an unnatural angle, the eyes bulged, the lips were covered in dried blood. It reminded Faith of when she was a kid, popping the heads off dandelions. Faith shrieked, releasing her hold, horrified at the feel of blood and flesh and other unspeakable things in her hand. The gray head separated from the lady's shoulders and her body went down. For reasons she couldn't quite grasp right now, it bothered Faith tremendously to find the elderly Slayer's glasses crushed beneath Faith's boots.
'No. Not again. Blood. So much blood.'
Faith stared at her hands in horror, Spike and his similar crisis entirely forgotten. It was happening again. It was just like being back in Angel's basement again, the blood of the assassin Wolfram and Hart sent after her slicking her palms. Angel was wrong. No matter how hard she tried, she was a killer. Always would be.
A voice in the recesses of Faith's mind was yelling at her to fight, to give in to her survival instincts once more. The sound of Dawn screaming was enough to make her pay attention to that voice, but it was too late. She had stood still too long. Something hard and heavy slammed into her temple and she went down, fighting darkness.
Her vision swam red, and the noise around her sounded like it was echoing through a distant tunnel. Spike was down. They were binding him with blessed ropes that burned through his skin as she watched, but he just kept apologizing to the dead little girl, sobbing like a man broken. Dawn too was sobbing. The girl was covered in blood that Faith feared was mostly Dawn's own.
'B's gonna kill me. Maybe she should.'
Andrew and Xander were no where to be found, and Faith found a moment to hope the two of them had gotten out before a mightily pissed off Slayer whose appearance fit every stereotype of a hardened prison Butch started pummeling Faith in the face.
'Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun.'
The elderly Slayer's decapitated head lay by her, the dead eyes boring into Faith's memory. It was a blessing when the darkness claimed her, and for the first time in years, Faith found herself hoping the light would never return.
:Author's notes:
Sorry for the cliffhanger ending. Thanks as always to Cliia!
Only one feedback this time. *sighs* Oh well. Can't win them all.
Bsktballchik: Thanks! Guess I didn't update as quickly as I should have. *grimaces* Sorry about that. I'll try to do better next time. ^_~