I Won't Stand Around And I Won't Watch You Die

The blood on his hands was a deep tantalizing scarlet. It reminded me of how thirsty I was. I hadn't had a drink in over a week, and the sight of that rich blood was causing thoughts of blood lust to swarm around in my head like a nest of angry bees. I was just about to move forward when a sudden spark of horrid rage cut through my bloodlusting haze.

There was Julie Marie, kneeling behind Ghost and cradling him against her chest while he shivered uncontrolably. Acting like she was worried about him. She had caused this. I knew she had. I didn't know exactly how . . . Or if it was even intentional. All I knew was that he was sick because he was here. And if she had just left us all alone he would be fine.

Completely enraged, I ran up the steps of the alter and shoved Selene out of my way when she tried to stop me. Angel did too, so I elbowed her in the stomach and sent her stumbling off the alter. When I reached Ghost, Julie Marie shot up. Her absence of support causing Ghost to lean back against the throne while he began to cough again.

"Stay. Away." she warned in a voice as sharp as cutting daggers.
"Make me," I snarled, pulling out the silver knife that I'd stolen from the guard out of my pocket.

"You think you can hurt me with that little toy?" she mocked.
"I can try," I hissed just as Selene and Angel appeared next to me, their eyes glowing murderously like rabid guard dogs.

"Relax girls," said Julie Marie, "I can handle her."
"Oh really?" I snapped as Selene and Angel backed away obediently.

"Yes, really, now if you'll excuse me, I need to tend to Xander," she said.
My eyes flashed down to Ghost, where he sat on the floor, leaning against the front of the throne. He was coughing up blood into his hands, looking scared.

"I - I don't want-" he chocked out between racking coughs.
"You don't want what baby?" Julie Marie asked sweetly, kneeling down in front of him to caress his cheek softly.

"I don't want - don't want to be . . ." he tried to say through his coughs.
"Shhhhh . . . You're okay sweetheart," she soothed, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

"No - No I'm . . . not," he coughed out, staining his hands with more blood.
"Shhhhhh, you're okay. You're okay," she crooned, petting his hair softly, "Mama's here."

"You. Are. Sick." I snarled at her. Really, referring to herself as mama while she treated her foster son like a pet . . . Not cool.
"Actually, Xander is the one who is sick. Which is why he needs me to take care of him," she snapped at me acidly, her head whipping around to glare at me. Somehow, even though she was looking up at me, her hatred filled eyes still made me feel intimidated and small. I had to work not to shrink away.

"Is that why you did this? Did you make him sick just so you could take care of him and pretend to be his mother again?" I demanded.
Like I'd planned, that seemed to hit a nerve. With deliberate slowness, as if she was building the tension by making me wait, she got up and turned around. Her eyes bore into mine. They were practically overflowing with immense loathing. Once again, I felt intimidated by her. She was taller then me, probably around the same height as Ghost, and she was looking down at me like I was an insect she planned to squash.

"I do not pretend to be his mother," she growled precisely, "I am."
"Some mother you are," I snorted, "Incestious tendencies and all."

If possible, her gaze became even more full of hate. She didn't just want me dead anymore. She wanted me to suffer.
"I don't believe I have the slightest idea what you're talking about," she said primly, suggesting that she knew that everyone knew she was lieing.

"You're a lieing bitch," I snarled, half surprised myself. How could Ghost's JM have gone so bad so fast?
"Little whore," she said, and faster then I expected, she pulled my knife out of my hand. In a rapid fast movement, she sliced a cut across my arm before back handing me across the face.

The force of the blow sent me tumbling back and off the alter. I landed on my ass on the tiled isle, next to Hattie. I looked at my arm, where pain had sprung up. I was surprised to see that the cut she'd caused was bleeding. I wasn't used to bleeding in this vampire state of mine. I put a hand over the bleeding slice and stared up at Julie Marie in pained surprise.

"You're an awful person," I said, my voice sounding somber and childlike. "And an even worse mother."
"Shut up," she hissed, "Shut up you little witch. Somebody, remove her from my sight."

I was grabbed then by Angel and Selene by the arms, they both yanked me up harshly. Hattie and the others protested but they were quickly snatched up as well by other guards. While they struggled, Selene and Angel began dragging me down the isle, towards the exit. I thrashed and kicked and fought but they wouldn't let go.

I looked up at the alter as they dragged me away. Ghost was sitting on the floor, trembling and coughing up blood. Julie Marie stood partially in front of him in a protective way. Her eyes were on me, coldly pleased as they dragged me away.

"I'll get away from here one day," I said when we reached the door, making sure my voice could be heard, "But you'll never be his mother!"

"And we're locked up . . . again," Hattie muttered, throwing herself down on the fluffy bed with a huff.

We were in some kind of lounge, it appeared. It was a large, spacious room with one big fluffy bed with a bunch of pillows. There were several couches around a large TV and a hot tub. The room had shag carpeting on the floor and even on the walls. There were rugs and paintings and potted plants decorating it. The two ornate doors that led to it were unlocked.

"No we're not," Diego pointed out, flopping down on the tiger printed sofa, "The door's not even locked."
"Well, we might as well be locked in," Hattie complained, "Even if we got out, they'd have us in a millisecond. Did you see all those guards before?"

"I, for one, don't plan on leaving just yet," said Joseph, sitting down on the couch next to Diego and picking up the remote.
"Well, I do," I said, "I plan on leaving right now."

"Good luck," Hattie said lazily, hugging a feathery pillow to her chest, "You're going to need it to get out this place."
"I didn't say I was trying to get out of the building," I told her.

"Then where exactly are you going?" she asked, "Because I don't imagine that there's much to do here in religious vampireville."
"I'm going to find Ghost," I said, my voice steely with determination and partial anger. I couldn't believe how resigned they all were!

"Of course you are," she sighed, "You're devotion to your lover makes me quite ill."
"Don't be bitter Hattie," Diego told her.

"I'm not bitter," she snapped.
"Fine but a thousand years from now, when you own fifty cats and have named them all after ex-boyfriends. Don't say I didn't warn you," he said.

Joseph laughed. "Ha, nice one amigo," he said, raising his hand for a high five.
Deigo stared at it. "If you want to keep that hand you'll never call me amigo again," he said.

He lowered his hand. "Got it mi hermano," he said, flashing the thumbs up sign.
Diego glared at him. "No," he said simply.

"Okay, what about chico?" he checked.
"I'll punch your face in."

"Compadre?" he tried again.
"That's not even Spanish you retard," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Really?" Joseph asked.
"Yeah. It's a southern thing," he explained.

"Hmmm. Didn't know that," he mumbled.
"Um children?" I interrupted, "If your done with the language lesson, I'll be on my way."

"Okay. Have fun. Don't die," Joseph said breezily.
Diego smacked him upside the head. "Castro es más sensible entonces usted," he muttered.

"You just insulted me didn't you?" he asked.
"Si," he said with a smug smirk.

"You are such a jerk," he muttered.
"Vete la chingada, tu hijo de puta," Diego returned.

"What?" he demanded.
"I think he just called your mother a whore," Hattie informed him.

"Okay," I said, "I'm going now."
I was ignored. "You little chicano bastard," Joseph said.

"I'm opening the door . . . " I trailed off, opening one of the large doors.
"Racist little prick," Diego retorted, igrnoing me as well. They were playing around, yet they still got so into their little fight.

"I'm walking out the door . . ." I said, stepping half outside.
"Children, children," Hattie said, talking to Diego and Joseph, "Let's not fight."

"Yeah whatever. Why don't you go make me a sandwhich, bitch," he said.
Hattie chucked a pillow at him. "Sexist bastard!"

"You're racist and sexist, good job Joey," Diego said.
Joseph smiled. "Don't I just suck?" he asked proudly.

"Yeah. Samantha's clit," Hattie muttered.
"What!" he demanded while Diego burst into laughter, so much that he actually fell off the couch.

"Yeah, Sam's room is across the hall from mine," she said, "I hear things."
"I would agree with Hattie if I wasn't too busy leaving," I hinted, waiting for someone to acknowledge me.

"I can't believe you went down on Sam!" Diego exclaimed between his fits of laughter, "You little whore!"
"Fuck you man," Joseph said, kicking him in the head. He was still laughing.

I realized then that nobody was going to pay any attention to me. "Oh fuck it all!" I shouted, leaving and slamming the door behind me. Then I began running down the empty hallway. Everybody else could banter and have fun and act like we weren't in the middle of a crisis, but I couldn't.

Not until I found Ghost and ripped Julie Marie to shreds.