SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN
By Niels van Eekelen
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www.TelltaleProductions.tk
The next day my dad was released from the hospital. I went home as well. Fortunately, mom was so busy fussing over dad--apparently the doctors had said some pretty scary things back at the hospital--that they hardly noticed I was there, so the inevitable confrontation was postponed until early evening.
I knew exactly what was gonna happen way in advance, but that didn't help any. Daddy dearest had recovered his strength, no matter how silly he looked with that cast on his nose, and he wasn't about to let me get away with standing up to him succesfully.
I could have taken him out. One blow to the right place, and the bastard wouldn't have bothered me anymore. But Maria's talk about resposibility the night before had scared me, more than I wanted to admit. So I did nothing. I took what dad dealt out. Oh, I dodged and paried some, but defensive fighting, at best, only gains you a little time. Besides, it made him angry.
I was afraid to fight back, OK, but there came a point, when I lay on the floor, hurting everywhere, that I knew that if dad had any intention of stopping when I'd learnt my lesson, he would already have stopped by then. I decided not to take any more of his crap. So I rolled aside, jumped to my feet, and bruised my knuckles on his thick skull.
He dropped to the ground, unconscious. I pretty much followed him down and just sat there, gasping for breath. If not for my Slayer- toughness, it would have been me who was unconscious. I wonder if that would have stopped my dad's rampage. He was crazy enough not to have noticed if I'd passed out.
My mother leapt to dad's side again, moaning and screaming for him to wake up. I hated her then. Completely and thoroughly. For being able to care about that man, and not interfering when he was beating me up, or even bothering to see if I was all right.
We were all still in the same positions when Maria rang the doorbell, what must have been ten minutes later. My mom showed no intention of getting up, so I got off the floor, straightened my clothes and went to open the door.
Maria was trying to look in through the window when I opened the door, looking worried at the sound of my mother's moaning. When she saw my bruised appearance, she was aghast.
"Let's go," I told Maria quickly, before she could start asking questions.
She didn't ask any questions about what had happened all night during our training session and hunt. Not directly, at least. Still, I guess that she managed to piece things together, because the next day, she came early, dressed again in that way too expensive-looking suit. She told me to wait outside and went in to speak to my parents.
She never told me exactly what she said to them, though I heard something about taking me to a correctional facility or something. The walls of our trailer were kinda unsoundproof, and I knew where the cracks were. I didn't hold it against Maria, what she told my parents, not much, anyways. Lies are a lot more credible if it's half-probable they're actually gonna happen anyway.
The results, in any case, I couldn't argue with. I packed some stuff, stopped to glare at mom and dad for a moment, and then never looked back.
I stayed in Maria's hotel room for the rest of the time we stayed in town. "It'll have to do until we find you an affordable place of your own," Maria said. I can't say I looked very hard, and I don't think she did, either. I grew quite fond of that couch, actually.
We stayed there for three and a half weeks or so. During the night, I patrolled, sometimes alone, sometimes with Maria. During the day, we trained, and I learned to kick some serious butt. I remember one time. I was daydreaming about what would happen if I revisited St George High School. There was a lot of revenge to be got there.
"Pay attention, Faith," Maria chided me.
"Attention?" I countered. "Hah! I could take you on in my sleep!" I lashed out again and again at the pads she wore on her hands. I enjoyed the violence, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Slaying helped me take out a whole lot of what I used to crop up inside on the undead.
Finally, I tackled her and landed with a stake poised directly over her heart. I leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Tag, you're it."
"Not bad, Faith, dear," Maria said getting up. "But next time, do try to stick to the lesson plan." She always did her best to sound stern, but she couldn't hold back the curve of her lips as she gave me the smile that told me she was proud of me.
Because she was. She was my Watcher, I was her Slayer, and I hadn't yet encountered a vamp that gave me any trouble. In no time at all, Maria became far closer to me than anyone of my own flesh and blood had ever been.
I mean, it didn't just stop when the monsters stopped coming. We hung out together. OK, so it's not very Watchery behaviour, but Maria had, like, two personalities. One was the British one. Kinda Gilesy, but never actually Wesleyish. Meaning that she had the stiffness when it came to repremanding me, but she had emotions, too, and dared to show them.
Maria often took me to this club, where people of both our ages came. I met some people there who became my friends. Or at least, I hung with them when Maria wasn't around. After a while, I took to coming there late at night, after patrolling. They weren't too strict about who they served alcohol there. I can't remember the number of times Maria cursed me when she'd lain awake all night worrying that something had happened to me on patrol, while I was just hanging out at the club.
Guess I wasn't very considerate.
But Maria, she took it all in stride. Yes, she yelled at me for it to get the excitement out of her system, but then she'd just shrug it off and call it puberty.
Eventually, I even found that boyfriend I'd had wanted in high school, in the form of Kenny. I acted all tough around him, like I usually actually am, but I'm ashamed to say that I fell head over heels for this guy. It was... nice. For a while. He was very helpful with the... feelings... I often got after slaying all night. Except for the part where I got hungry, he was a disaster in that department. There was never anything to eat at his place.
Oh, wait, I get what you're thinking now, but no, he wasn't a vampire. Fucking worse, if you ask me.
Considering how I feel about guys these days, you must have guessed that it didn't end well. Maria and I decided to call off patrolling early one night. The night before, I'd found the local vamps' nest, and that day we'd gone back to open some windows, let in fresh air, and a little light, if you get my meaning. So it would be quiet for a while. When I dropped by Kenny's place, I found him in bed with another girl.
I swear, it was pure luck--though I certainly didn't think so at the time--that Maria was still right outside in her car, after she'd dropped me off, or I would have killed the stinking bastard. Maria had to tear me off him to stop me from strangling him. He was already turned blue. I remember that that bitch he was with just kept screaming. Drove me crazy.
But enough about that. I'm skipping over all sorts of things. This all was just before the Watcher's Council decided to make full use of a Slayer who wasn't tied to one place by relatives, and they started sending the two of us around.
Before Sunnydale, there were three bigshot vampires in my life. There was Andrea, some moron calling himself Mordred, and of course... of course there were Kakistos and his lapdog Mr Trick. But they came later.
First up, still in Boston, was Andrea.
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.