SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN
By Niels van Eekelen
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www.TelltaleProductions.tk
The first time my Slayer strength manifested itself was a hoot. I don't think I've ever enjoyed using it that much since, simply because it came so unexpectedly. It was... three months, I guess, give or take a week, after I dropped out of high school, and I had been pissed off at the world ever since. Pissed off meaning more pissed off than I normally am.
It had cost me a shitload of effort to get into high school, everything from faking my father's signature to getting together the money. In the end, I even got some kind of official-looking person to tell my parents that it was my right to be educated.
Bet that's a shocker, huh? Me, Faith the slacker, fighting to go to class. That was back when I still cared. I thought high schools had to be pretty cool places, considering how many kids went there, and even kept studying in college, when they didn't really had to anymore. God, how naive that sounds now. But I honestly wanted to learn, and meet people-- maybe even get a boyfriend. The people in our own neighbourhood weren't exactly people you hung out with. Not a matter of self-respect, rather of self-preservation.
Anyways, I got myself into high school, and it was hell. Nobody wanted to be friends with me, although they all found me hilariously funny, especially the fact that I lived in a trailer and that my dad was an ex-con. He'd done time when I was a toddler because he'd robbed a liquor store and had stuck around to try and rape the shop assistant instead of running before the police arrived. Needless to say, I hated everyone at school, and got into a lot of fights. If nothing else, fighting was a welcome distraction from my failing grades. That were my fellow students. The teachers all treated me pretty much like Commandant Snyder did Sunnydale High. Only not as friendly. So I dropped out, and never regretted it.
After all the effort I'd put into going to high school only to have it amount to nothing, I was running on a short fuse. In other words, I went looking for trouble, and then gave it an inferiority complex. That afternoon we were talking about, the one with the Slayer strength, I'd been brought home by the cops. It was just a little vandalism that got me caught, but it was enough to send my father over the edge.
I fought back, I always did, but usually it was just for having tried, with my dad being a heavyweight, and me no more than a featherweight.
This time was different. It's not just strength that lets a Slayer kick butt, too. Suddenly I knew where to hit him. And I hit him. Knocked him across the room. My mom's all panicky, screaming at me, and jumping out of her chair more energetically than she had in at least ten years.
Come to think of it, I don't know how mom got the ambulance to come. Our phone was dead, because we never paid any bills. Anyhow, she got one, and we went to the hospital with dear ol' dad. I remember thinking we were in deep shit when we got the hospital bill, 'cause there was no way we could pay it. I wasn't worried about my dad's payback to me. I was still too full of the idea that now I could take care of myself. I didn't wonder how or why.
That's when Maria found me. Maria, I don't know if you remember, or if you ever even heard her name, but she was my first Watcher, the one Kakistos... killed. You should remember her. Someone should.
I was standing in the hallway outside of my dad's room, leaning my forehead against the window and staring at some faraway place I wished I could be, when this strange woman in a way too expensive suit comes up to me. Screw her, I thought. I ignored her.
"Jackson Mandorf," she started in her British accent, reading from a chart, "nose broken by impact from 'blunt object', they call it." Then she made that weird clucking noise with her tongue. It's a Watcher thing, I guess. "You nearly drove the cartilage of your father's nose into his brain, you know. Nearly killed him."
For some reason, I smiled. I really didn't want to kill anyone--not yet, I guess--but the idea that it would be so easy seemed damn funny. "'d've Served the bastard right," I muttered. I hadn't thought Maria would hear me. I wasn't used to people listening to what I was saying, period. But when I looked up, I saw those two enormous blue eyes looking back at me, filled to the brim with compassion.
Being who I am, I wasn't about to accept pity from someone who had no idea what my life was really like.
"So who are you?" I demanded harshly. "Police? You take care of us juvenile delinquents?" She was a good one, my Watcher was. She saw that I would only respond to things I could understand, so she didn't waste any more time being mellow and all that crap.
She simply shook her head. "No, the police won't be bothering you. I took the liberty of dealing with that. I understand that this was the first time your power manifested, so what happened because of it can't be blamed on you." She sighed. "No, I'd sooner blame myself. I should have found you before anything like this could happen, but for some reason I kept searching in the more well-to-do neighbourhoods."
The woman had my complete attention now. And my suspicion. And, automatically, my anger. You want a psych explanation for what I've done? There it is. Anger. I'm full of it. Always have been. "Power? Searching?" I wanted to know. "Who the heck are you? Are you in one of those conspiracy things?" Yes, I watch the X-files, too. Doesn't everyone? I for one believe those two should have screwed each other long ago and got it over with. Mulder could have got her, if he'd just been smart enough to try anything.
My Watcher gave me a look that said they didn't have conspiracy things in England. "My apologies," she replied calmly, "I forget to introduce myself. I am Maria Bandera." She extended a hand towards me. I glanced at it, then ignored it. After a moment, Maria dropped the hand and went on. "Believe me when I say that the organisation I'm with has nothing to do at all with your American government. We are called the Watcher Council."
The name didn't ring any bells, naturally, so I figured, no reason to be impressed.
"And you, Faith Mandorf, are the Chosen One. I've been looking for you for over two years."
I didn't like the sound of that. No one searched for someone for two years if all they wanted was to say hi. "Chosen for what? Or by whom?"
She chuckled. "I have a feeling that you wouldn't believe me if I simply told you. Please, come with me, and I'll show you."
I sneered at her. "If you actually believe," I replied, "that I'm gonna come with you, just like that, then someone did a real number on that pretty head of yours."
"You owe me," she argued. "I got the police to not pursue your case."
I scoffed at her. "The police and I are practically roommates, we see each other so often," though I was probably very lucky I didn't have to deal with them.
"Then, Faith my dear," Maria told me with that amused smile I would learn to love so much, "you will come with me, because you have nothing better to do. Not at the moment, and not with your life."
Boy, did she have me there.
Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions.
In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all.
A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character.