Roll Titles: The Damned
Starring:
Eliza Dushku as Faith
Casey Affleck as Sir Robert La Morte
Alexis Denisof as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Alyson Hannigan as Willow Rosenberg
David Boreanz as Angel
And Seth Green as Daniel 'Oz' Osborne
Michelle Trachtenberg as Dawn Summers
Special Guest Stars:
Anthony Stewart Head as Rupert Giles
Nicholas Brendon as Alexander 'Xander' Harris
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood
Amy Acker as Winifred 'Fred' Burkle
J. August Richards as Charles Gunn
Andy Hallett as Lorne
Iyari Limon as Kennedy
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood
Vincent Karthieser as Connor
Jake Busey as Micah Luke
And Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers
She stood in the window staring at the crimson orange of the sun fade into the horizon. It had been days since they all had left Sunnydale. The town burned to ashes in the wake of the destruction of the hellmouth. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the weeks before, the dead slayers staring at her with lifeless eyes, the girls she shared the house with, the girls she commanded in battle and led them to their deaths and the slayer potentials it was her duty to protect. Many of them she had failed and she paid the price for her mistakes. She recalled Anya, the sarcastic blonde vengeance demon who shared her memories for years and fought alongside the slayer and the friends. Now she was gone, stabbed in the back by a bringer as she flailed at them with a baseball bat, smashing the skulls of demon and vampire alike. With her dying breath she cursed her tormentor, who became immolated in flames and charged screaming into a band of bringers, who all exploded into flame. Xander had been holding his own against several vampires and remained oblivious to his lover's death until a flustered Giles informed him on the bus.
They all had fought well, Buffy, Faith and the Potentials struck down wave after wave of their foes, never flinching, never tiring and never retreating. Caleb fell to several swift blows from Buffy's scythe, his blood splattering over the vengeful petite blonde as she rained blow after blow into his exposed stomach. He collapsed on the ground and snarled that the First would win and "she would be his concubine in hell". This time, Buffy delivered no witty comeback but promptly decapitated him in full view of an enraged First. Then, the rest of it was a blur, Willow, Buffy and Faith kept the First at bay while Spike sealed the hellmouth and sacrificed himself to do so. Finally, after minutes of endless combat, the First was weakened enough for Buffy to administer the coup de grace while Willow cast a spell on the ethereal demon to make it physically vulnerable. The creature let out an ear-shattering wail as Buffy thrust her weapon into it while she ignored its pleas for mercy.
The caverns collapsed as the First Evil breathed its last and Buffy and the scoobies, along with the surviving potentials, fled the environs. The whole town joined with the caverns and the earth swallowed it up in a matter of an hour after a tremendous earthquake. Luckily, no innocents joined the death of the hellmouth because Giles had the foresight to borrow a bus from the abandoned Sunnydale High School and he and Principal Wood were present to rescue a bloodied, bruised Xander, Willow, Dawn, Faith, Buffy and the rest of the potentials. Giles called Angel and the souled vampire promised to accommodate them for the time being. The fang gang finally met up with the Scooby gang and they all exchanged salutations. Giles was presently amazed to find a considerably different Wesley from the one that he remembered. This Wesley was a clever and brave warrior, and still retained his erudite Watcher's knowledge, but was a far cry from the pathetic wimp he once was. Gunn, Fred and Lorne exchanged greetings with the Sunnydale crowd, Faith cheerfully introducing them all. Buffy decided to skip the formal greetings and went upstairs to her room to watch the sunset. She spent the time in contemplation, reflecting on her successes and defeats, mostly her defeats as she painfully realized how Xander must secretly resent her, especially with his missing eye and how Willow, her best friend, turned on her after she lost all of the emotion and affection for her friends. The torment in hell had erased most of her humanity and replaced it with cold, calculated and a stern mind that only granted some vestige of sympathy towards Spike, who had ironically been the cause of much of her misery. She loved Spike, the platinum blonde vampire who captivated her fervor with his boyish charm, dangerous attitude and good looks, all of which had never been possessed by Angel nor Riley. Now she was in LA, and she knew had to confront her great passionate love from the past and she knew it would not be easy. Buffy shook her head and watched the crimson dusk turn into the pitch black of night. A voice spoke from behind her.
"So you're Buffy."
She whirled around to face a thin, haggard young man who looked remotely like Angel. He wasn't quite as tall as him nor possessed the dark visage nor the brooding nature within handsome features, but she felt somewhat curious and enticed by him.
"Yes," she smiled. "I take it you must be the fabled Connor."
He nodded, "Angel told me a lot about you."
"I'm sure," her smile vanished, replaced with a cold, blank stare.
Connor noticed her sudden irascibility and backed off. "Well, if you need anything, just call for me. I'll be back downstairs with Ang-"
She interrupted him brusquely, "I know, I'll be down in a few minutes, just tell Angel and the others I have to think about something."
Connor tried to feign politeness while he tried to ascertain the slayer's mysterious attitude towards him. The icy reception she had given him was clearly out of character for her, or at least from the amiable, caring and passionate Buffy his father always lauded her out to be. Well, he figured that people sometimes do change. Besides, he had enough to worry about. By obliterating Jasmine's skull with a swift blow from his fist, he knew he had killed Cordelia, the only person in the world that he cared about. He kept on tearing himself inside about it, although he secretly knew that in order to save the world from destruction, he had to deliver Cordelia from the mortal world, even if there was nothing in it for him. Angel and the others tried to console him, but he just ignored their superficial lamentations and brooded in his room.
Downstairs, Giles sat in the study exchanging tales and discussing prophecies and other mystical phenomena with Wesley while Fred and Lorne cooked dinner for the others. Angel excused himself from the dining room and went out for a walk outside. He shuffled through the gardens surrounding the hotel and perused through the various flora, trying to distract his thoughts from Buffy with trivialities. Yet, no matter how much he exerted himself, he continued to drift to memories of Buffy. It was almost ironic how a souled vampire who once was renowned for his savage violence and his terrorizing Europe fell in love with the slayer bred to kill him and his ilk. He fled to Los Angeles because he arrived at the revelation that he could no longer pursue a healthy relationship with Buffy, not with his curse infringing upon their happiness. He collected a band of loyal followers and defeated a round of apocalypses, culminating in the betrayal of Cordelia and the ascension of Jasmine. It was only luck that allowed him to defeat her, but the same luck alienated Connor from him, not that he and Connor had ever been especially close. After all, his human son was part of a prophecy to destroy him and once tried to eradicate him, although through some sort of divine intervention, he was spared from a fate of endless torment, time and time again. He heard footsteps creep up behind him and sniffed, noting the strong scent of makeup and perfume.
"Faith," he muttered, neglecting to turn around and face the dark slayer.
"Hiya Angelface, long time no see," Faith grinned and caught up beside him. Angel couldn't help but notice her ostentatious regalia, complete with tight black leather pants and a blood red blouse that accentuated her physical beauty. Her fiery brown eyes bored deep into his. He stopped and faced her.
"I'd like to be alone now," was all he said before he vanished.
"Well how do you like that?" an exasperated Faith replied, gritting her teeth. "Still no respect after everything I've done, I'm the reason why those two aren't sucking the boots of the First, and they still pretend like I'm some trash skank."
She continued walking, until she arrived at a deserted church. The architecture resembled a gothic cathedral and the façade was adorned with menacing gargoyles. Faith calmly walked inside to face an interior almost completely devoid of light save for several flickering candles that illuminated the saints. She remembered going to church in Boston, she always hated the perpetual boredom and constant droning of the pastor. After she ran away from home, she promised never to return to church, but this time, the abandoned prayer house seemed to entice her, welcome her to come in. She crept up past the aisles of overturned pews and looted coffers until she finally reached the altars where the prayer candles glowed in front of a disfigured Christ who stared at her with eyes full of mercy and compassion. Faith lit seven candles for the friends she had lost in the past few weeks, and then lit several more as she recalled the days before she left prison, the days when she was the evil slayer, the betrayer who inflicted misery upon her friends and fought for the dark side.
The memories of the horrible acts she had committed returned to her head. The memories of Mayor Wilkins and all the innocent people she murdered to satiate his lust for power and her lust for acceptance. She betrayed Buffy, with whom she had a powerful friendship and made enemies of all of her friends. She bitterly recalled the climactic fight between them when Buffy put her into a coma. Then she returned to cause more pain and misery and to steal Buffy's body and inflict even greater misery upon her friends. It all came to naught, all those delusions of grandeur and the bitter pride that existed within her. Her arrogance had led her to her own fate, and Faith knew that. She tried to redeem herself, but even though some awarded her sympathy and gratitude, others continued to show repugnance for her, especially Buffy, with whom Faith had tried to reinvigorate the friendship. She knew her sister slayer tried to grant her forgiveness, but some recalcitrant side of Buffy which had emerged after her second resurrection, inhibited her from displaying any overt sign of it to Faith, even after the defeat of the First.
Her formerly stern face began filled with tears and frustration as Faith lashed out at the statues around her, obliterating statues, overturning pews and denting the walls with a furious anger. She fought back the tears streaming down her face and finally relented, collapsing in front of the altar. She looked up at the crucified Christ and reflected for a moment in the serene calm of the church. It was all her fault and she knew that the Scooby gang would still consider her an enemy. Her confused mind tried to assemble thoughts of how she would charm and convince the others that she was truly trustworthy and a capable leader like Buffy. Her impetuosity had also gotten potentials killed, and almost allowed Caleb to murder the rest while she lay helplessly wounded in the caverns. Luckily, Buffy and the others arrived just in time to defeat Caleb and secure a victory from the jaws of defeat. Finally, she knew, she couldn't reveal her true emotions and the angst that plagued her, that would be too out of character for her. She had to remain herself, but she knew she had to try and convince the others, at least someway.
Then, she realized a presence behind her and whirled around to face a black figure standing several feet behind her. He was slightly above average height, taller than Xander, Connor or Spike not quite as tall as Angel or Gunn and had long, flowing black hair and a matching beard. His cold blue eyes met with her remorseful brown ones and she felt as if there was some mystical connection between her and the armored figure. He was dressed in a black breastplate covered by a black cloak and in flowing black slacks. She then noticed the Celtic cross upon his breastplate and she suddenly became filled with dread.
"Looks like I got myself a peeping tom," she chuckled, "if you came here for a fight, I'm ready to deliver you a whooping unlike that you've seen before, demon."
The dark figure burst into laughter, "demon, such a trivial observation from a slayer. I suppose I can't be a chooser and expect some decent insight from a slayer, but allow me to introduce myself. You can call me La Morte, at least that's what you will call me when you're begging for mercy from my blade." His eyes narrowed as he drew his sword, bringing the several feet of steel from the scabbard and into full view.
Light glinted off of its naked blade, giving off a red aura. Faith was startled and intrigued by the stranger, "well are you going to persist with the old, I'm black and evil and all cliché, or can we get to the fighting?"
"As you wish, Faith. It'll be a pleasure striking down a slayer. I don't think I've had the excitement for oh, around two hundred and forty years, the last one was a bit of a pathetic waste of my time, so I hope you'll be a bit more.challenging. It's pity though, I might have liked you," he answered, a smile crossing his face.
He then withdrew an AR-15 assault rifle from his cloak while clutching the sword in another hand and opened fire. Instinctively, Faith dove behind the altar while bullets struck the place where she was once standing. La Morte moved to the right, hoping to flank the altar and catch the rogue slayer off guard. He emptied the rest of the clip, but Faith ran from her position, dodging bullets as if they were darts and dove behind the pews. He angrily threw away the assault rifle and grasped his bastard sword in both hands. It had come down to this. He cried some unrecognizable war cry and rushed towards the pews where Faith was crouching.
Faith rose and rushed towards him with an even greater speed, her eyes the embodiment of rage. She effortlessly dodged the first slash and punched him right in the stomach. La Morte calmly absorbed the blow and lashed out with his leg, knocking Faith to the ground. She was briefly stunned and then she performed a backflip to evade the edge of the broadsword which buried in the carpet. She then jumped up and delivered a smart upper cut to his cheeks while blocking a retaliatory blow from his free hand. She then twisted his arm and headbutted him, knocking him several feet away from her, his right hand still clutching the sword.
"Looks like I was a bit more challenging than you thought," Faith snarled as she crouched into a fighting stance. "Care to continue, or are you not man enough to duel with a defenseless, little girl like me?"
"Tsk tsk, getting cocky are we?" asked La Morte, whose blue eyes suddenly turned red with bloodlust. He dived to the left and hurled a knife from his open hand, which Faith dodged with a somersault. La Morte rushed up to her and brought down his sword in what he thought would be the final blow, but instead he was greeted with a crushing blow from her foot to his head and he went sprawling, the sword flying from his grip.
Faith grinned, "I just kicked your ass, La Morgue or whatever-your- name-is, and to tell the truth, I would kill you right now with your own sword, but I have to patch up some business with some old friends, so I hope you won't feel that I've leaving you too abruptly." She chuckled and left the church in a swaggering fashion, with her mind firmly set on returning to the hotel and informing the others about the would-be assassin.
La Morte rose from the floor and dusted himself off, he retrieved his sword and the AR-15 and put a fresh clip in before he holstered it.
"Well that was unexpected," he muttered to himself, "it seems she has all the slayer powers up and running, but no matter, I'll kill her next time."
He stayed to the shadows as he followed her, discretely keeping considerable distance between them. She was the first person to have bested him in a fight for a long, long time. He almost felt attracted to her, enticed by her witty personality complete with a ravishing physical beauty equaled by few. It seemed so ironic, but he ignored such passionate affections and concentrated on destroying her. After all, she had allied with the demons he was sworn to oppose and she was a threat to the Key, so she must be destroyed, at least that's what his orders were.
His thoughts shifted to that of his last love, the affair with the daughter of the monster who betrayed him and turned him into the abomination he was now. She became one of the undead like her father, and he struck her down amidst the chaos of the Napoleonic era. It had taken centuries, but he had found out where she had taken refuge in, some remote castle in France. He stormed the palace by himself, slashing and shooting his way through the vast force of Frenchmen and vampires that guarded the castle until he finally arrived at the keep. Her lover, one of Napoleon's henchmen was easily dispatched after a brief swordfight. His fencing saber was no match for La Morte's claymore and Robert continued until he finally found Antanasia. The fight between the abomination and the master vampire countless seesawed back and forth until finally he gained the upper hand and decapitated her when she put down her guard.
He promised never to love anyone after her betrayal but he found himself strangely attracted to this girl.this slayer. He failed to recall a prophecy which talked about a man born of angel and devil, who would fall in love with the corrupted slayer and turn her into an instrument of good, but he had no idea of his upcoming role.
Starring:
Eliza Dushku as Faith
Casey Affleck as Sir Robert La Morte
Alexis Denisof as Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Alyson Hannigan as Willow Rosenberg
David Boreanz as Angel
And Seth Green as Daniel 'Oz' Osborne
Michelle Trachtenberg as Dawn Summers
Special Guest Stars:
Anthony Stewart Head as Rupert Giles
Nicholas Brendon as Alexander 'Xander' Harris
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood
Amy Acker as Winifred 'Fred' Burkle
J. August Richards as Charles Gunn
Andy Hallett as Lorne
Iyari Limon as Kennedy
D.B. Woodside as Principal Robin Wood
Vincent Karthieser as Connor
Jake Busey as Micah Luke
And Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers
She stood in the window staring at the crimson orange of the sun fade into the horizon. It had been days since they all had left Sunnydale. The town burned to ashes in the wake of the destruction of the hellmouth. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the weeks before, the dead slayers staring at her with lifeless eyes, the girls she shared the house with, the girls she commanded in battle and led them to their deaths and the slayer potentials it was her duty to protect. Many of them she had failed and she paid the price for her mistakes. She recalled Anya, the sarcastic blonde vengeance demon who shared her memories for years and fought alongside the slayer and the friends. Now she was gone, stabbed in the back by a bringer as she flailed at them with a baseball bat, smashing the skulls of demon and vampire alike. With her dying breath she cursed her tormentor, who became immolated in flames and charged screaming into a band of bringers, who all exploded into flame. Xander had been holding his own against several vampires and remained oblivious to his lover's death until a flustered Giles informed him on the bus.
They all had fought well, Buffy, Faith and the Potentials struck down wave after wave of their foes, never flinching, never tiring and never retreating. Caleb fell to several swift blows from Buffy's scythe, his blood splattering over the vengeful petite blonde as she rained blow after blow into his exposed stomach. He collapsed on the ground and snarled that the First would win and "she would be his concubine in hell". This time, Buffy delivered no witty comeback but promptly decapitated him in full view of an enraged First. Then, the rest of it was a blur, Willow, Buffy and Faith kept the First at bay while Spike sealed the hellmouth and sacrificed himself to do so. Finally, after minutes of endless combat, the First was weakened enough for Buffy to administer the coup de grace while Willow cast a spell on the ethereal demon to make it physically vulnerable. The creature let out an ear-shattering wail as Buffy thrust her weapon into it while she ignored its pleas for mercy.
The caverns collapsed as the First Evil breathed its last and Buffy and the scoobies, along with the surviving potentials, fled the environs. The whole town joined with the caverns and the earth swallowed it up in a matter of an hour after a tremendous earthquake. Luckily, no innocents joined the death of the hellmouth because Giles had the foresight to borrow a bus from the abandoned Sunnydale High School and he and Principal Wood were present to rescue a bloodied, bruised Xander, Willow, Dawn, Faith, Buffy and the rest of the potentials. Giles called Angel and the souled vampire promised to accommodate them for the time being. The fang gang finally met up with the Scooby gang and they all exchanged salutations. Giles was presently amazed to find a considerably different Wesley from the one that he remembered. This Wesley was a clever and brave warrior, and still retained his erudite Watcher's knowledge, but was a far cry from the pathetic wimp he once was. Gunn, Fred and Lorne exchanged greetings with the Sunnydale crowd, Faith cheerfully introducing them all. Buffy decided to skip the formal greetings and went upstairs to her room to watch the sunset. She spent the time in contemplation, reflecting on her successes and defeats, mostly her defeats as she painfully realized how Xander must secretly resent her, especially with his missing eye and how Willow, her best friend, turned on her after she lost all of the emotion and affection for her friends. The torment in hell had erased most of her humanity and replaced it with cold, calculated and a stern mind that only granted some vestige of sympathy towards Spike, who had ironically been the cause of much of her misery. She loved Spike, the platinum blonde vampire who captivated her fervor with his boyish charm, dangerous attitude and good looks, all of which had never been possessed by Angel nor Riley. Now she was in LA, and she knew had to confront her great passionate love from the past and she knew it would not be easy. Buffy shook her head and watched the crimson dusk turn into the pitch black of night. A voice spoke from behind her.
"So you're Buffy."
She whirled around to face a thin, haggard young man who looked remotely like Angel. He wasn't quite as tall as him nor possessed the dark visage nor the brooding nature within handsome features, but she felt somewhat curious and enticed by him.
"Yes," she smiled. "I take it you must be the fabled Connor."
He nodded, "Angel told me a lot about you."
"I'm sure," her smile vanished, replaced with a cold, blank stare.
Connor noticed her sudden irascibility and backed off. "Well, if you need anything, just call for me. I'll be back downstairs with Ang-"
She interrupted him brusquely, "I know, I'll be down in a few minutes, just tell Angel and the others I have to think about something."
Connor tried to feign politeness while he tried to ascertain the slayer's mysterious attitude towards him. The icy reception she had given him was clearly out of character for her, or at least from the amiable, caring and passionate Buffy his father always lauded her out to be. Well, he figured that people sometimes do change. Besides, he had enough to worry about. By obliterating Jasmine's skull with a swift blow from his fist, he knew he had killed Cordelia, the only person in the world that he cared about. He kept on tearing himself inside about it, although he secretly knew that in order to save the world from destruction, he had to deliver Cordelia from the mortal world, even if there was nothing in it for him. Angel and the others tried to console him, but he just ignored their superficial lamentations and brooded in his room.
Downstairs, Giles sat in the study exchanging tales and discussing prophecies and other mystical phenomena with Wesley while Fred and Lorne cooked dinner for the others. Angel excused himself from the dining room and went out for a walk outside. He shuffled through the gardens surrounding the hotel and perused through the various flora, trying to distract his thoughts from Buffy with trivialities. Yet, no matter how much he exerted himself, he continued to drift to memories of Buffy. It was almost ironic how a souled vampire who once was renowned for his savage violence and his terrorizing Europe fell in love with the slayer bred to kill him and his ilk. He fled to Los Angeles because he arrived at the revelation that he could no longer pursue a healthy relationship with Buffy, not with his curse infringing upon their happiness. He collected a band of loyal followers and defeated a round of apocalypses, culminating in the betrayal of Cordelia and the ascension of Jasmine. It was only luck that allowed him to defeat her, but the same luck alienated Connor from him, not that he and Connor had ever been especially close. After all, his human son was part of a prophecy to destroy him and once tried to eradicate him, although through some sort of divine intervention, he was spared from a fate of endless torment, time and time again. He heard footsteps creep up behind him and sniffed, noting the strong scent of makeup and perfume.
"Faith," he muttered, neglecting to turn around and face the dark slayer.
"Hiya Angelface, long time no see," Faith grinned and caught up beside him. Angel couldn't help but notice her ostentatious regalia, complete with tight black leather pants and a blood red blouse that accentuated her physical beauty. Her fiery brown eyes bored deep into his. He stopped and faced her.
"I'd like to be alone now," was all he said before he vanished.
"Well how do you like that?" an exasperated Faith replied, gritting her teeth. "Still no respect after everything I've done, I'm the reason why those two aren't sucking the boots of the First, and they still pretend like I'm some trash skank."
She continued walking, until she arrived at a deserted church. The architecture resembled a gothic cathedral and the façade was adorned with menacing gargoyles. Faith calmly walked inside to face an interior almost completely devoid of light save for several flickering candles that illuminated the saints. She remembered going to church in Boston, she always hated the perpetual boredom and constant droning of the pastor. After she ran away from home, she promised never to return to church, but this time, the abandoned prayer house seemed to entice her, welcome her to come in. She crept up past the aisles of overturned pews and looted coffers until she finally reached the altars where the prayer candles glowed in front of a disfigured Christ who stared at her with eyes full of mercy and compassion. Faith lit seven candles for the friends she had lost in the past few weeks, and then lit several more as she recalled the days before she left prison, the days when she was the evil slayer, the betrayer who inflicted misery upon her friends and fought for the dark side.
The memories of the horrible acts she had committed returned to her head. The memories of Mayor Wilkins and all the innocent people she murdered to satiate his lust for power and her lust for acceptance. She betrayed Buffy, with whom she had a powerful friendship and made enemies of all of her friends. She bitterly recalled the climactic fight between them when Buffy put her into a coma. Then she returned to cause more pain and misery and to steal Buffy's body and inflict even greater misery upon her friends. It all came to naught, all those delusions of grandeur and the bitter pride that existed within her. Her arrogance had led her to her own fate, and Faith knew that. She tried to redeem herself, but even though some awarded her sympathy and gratitude, others continued to show repugnance for her, especially Buffy, with whom Faith had tried to reinvigorate the friendship. She knew her sister slayer tried to grant her forgiveness, but some recalcitrant side of Buffy which had emerged after her second resurrection, inhibited her from displaying any overt sign of it to Faith, even after the defeat of the First.
Her formerly stern face began filled with tears and frustration as Faith lashed out at the statues around her, obliterating statues, overturning pews and denting the walls with a furious anger. She fought back the tears streaming down her face and finally relented, collapsing in front of the altar. She looked up at the crucified Christ and reflected for a moment in the serene calm of the church. It was all her fault and she knew that the Scooby gang would still consider her an enemy. Her confused mind tried to assemble thoughts of how she would charm and convince the others that she was truly trustworthy and a capable leader like Buffy. Her impetuosity had also gotten potentials killed, and almost allowed Caleb to murder the rest while she lay helplessly wounded in the caverns. Luckily, Buffy and the others arrived just in time to defeat Caleb and secure a victory from the jaws of defeat. Finally, she knew, she couldn't reveal her true emotions and the angst that plagued her, that would be too out of character for her. She had to remain herself, but she knew she had to try and convince the others, at least someway.
Then, she realized a presence behind her and whirled around to face a black figure standing several feet behind her. He was slightly above average height, taller than Xander, Connor or Spike not quite as tall as Angel or Gunn and had long, flowing black hair and a matching beard. His cold blue eyes met with her remorseful brown ones and she felt as if there was some mystical connection between her and the armored figure. He was dressed in a black breastplate covered by a black cloak and in flowing black slacks. She then noticed the Celtic cross upon his breastplate and she suddenly became filled with dread.
"Looks like I got myself a peeping tom," she chuckled, "if you came here for a fight, I'm ready to deliver you a whooping unlike that you've seen before, demon."
The dark figure burst into laughter, "demon, such a trivial observation from a slayer. I suppose I can't be a chooser and expect some decent insight from a slayer, but allow me to introduce myself. You can call me La Morte, at least that's what you will call me when you're begging for mercy from my blade." His eyes narrowed as he drew his sword, bringing the several feet of steel from the scabbard and into full view.
Light glinted off of its naked blade, giving off a red aura. Faith was startled and intrigued by the stranger, "well are you going to persist with the old, I'm black and evil and all cliché, or can we get to the fighting?"
"As you wish, Faith. It'll be a pleasure striking down a slayer. I don't think I've had the excitement for oh, around two hundred and forty years, the last one was a bit of a pathetic waste of my time, so I hope you'll be a bit more.challenging. It's pity though, I might have liked you," he answered, a smile crossing his face.
He then withdrew an AR-15 assault rifle from his cloak while clutching the sword in another hand and opened fire. Instinctively, Faith dove behind the altar while bullets struck the place where she was once standing. La Morte moved to the right, hoping to flank the altar and catch the rogue slayer off guard. He emptied the rest of the clip, but Faith ran from her position, dodging bullets as if they were darts and dove behind the pews. He angrily threw away the assault rifle and grasped his bastard sword in both hands. It had come down to this. He cried some unrecognizable war cry and rushed towards the pews where Faith was crouching.
Faith rose and rushed towards him with an even greater speed, her eyes the embodiment of rage. She effortlessly dodged the first slash and punched him right in the stomach. La Morte calmly absorbed the blow and lashed out with his leg, knocking Faith to the ground. She was briefly stunned and then she performed a backflip to evade the edge of the broadsword which buried in the carpet. She then jumped up and delivered a smart upper cut to his cheeks while blocking a retaliatory blow from his free hand. She then twisted his arm and headbutted him, knocking him several feet away from her, his right hand still clutching the sword.
"Looks like I was a bit more challenging than you thought," Faith snarled as she crouched into a fighting stance. "Care to continue, or are you not man enough to duel with a defenseless, little girl like me?"
"Tsk tsk, getting cocky are we?" asked La Morte, whose blue eyes suddenly turned red with bloodlust. He dived to the left and hurled a knife from his open hand, which Faith dodged with a somersault. La Morte rushed up to her and brought down his sword in what he thought would be the final blow, but instead he was greeted with a crushing blow from her foot to his head and he went sprawling, the sword flying from his grip.
Faith grinned, "I just kicked your ass, La Morgue or whatever-your- name-is, and to tell the truth, I would kill you right now with your own sword, but I have to patch up some business with some old friends, so I hope you won't feel that I've leaving you too abruptly." She chuckled and left the church in a swaggering fashion, with her mind firmly set on returning to the hotel and informing the others about the would-be assassin.
La Morte rose from the floor and dusted himself off, he retrieved his sword and the AR-15 and put a fresh clip in before he holstered it.
"Well that was unexpected," he muttered to himself, "it seems she has all the slayer powers up and running, but no matter, I'll kill her next time."
He stayed to the shadows as he followed her, discretely keeping considerable distance between them. She was the first person to have bested him in a fight for a long, long time. He almost felt attracted to her, enticed by her witty personality complete with a ravishing physical beauty equaled by few. It seemed so ironic, but he ignored such passionate affections and concentrated on destroying her. After all, she had allied with the demons he was sworn to oppose and she was a threat to the Key, so she must be destroyed, at least that's what his orders were.
His thoughts shifted to that of his last love, the affair with the daughter of the monster who betrayed him and turned him into the abomination he was now. She became one of the undead like her father, and he struck her down amidst the chaos of the Napoleonic era. It had taken centuries, but he had found out where she had taken refuge in, some remote castle in France. He stormed the palace by himself, slashing and shooting his way through the vast force of Frenchmen and vampires that guarded the castle until he finally arrived at the keep. Her lover, one of Napoleon's henchmen was easily dispatched after a brief swordfight. His fencing saber was no match for La Morte's claymore and Robert continued until he finally found Antanasia. The fight between the abomination and the master vampire countless seesawed back and forth until finally he gained the upper hand and decapitated her when she put down her guard.
He promised never to love anyone after her betrayal but he found himself strangely attracted to this girl.this slayer. He failed to recall a prophecy which talked about a man born of angel and devil, who would fall in love with the corrupted slayer and turn her into an instrument of good, but he had no idea of his upcoming role.