Chapter 3 – Wishful Thinking
The cries of a woman in pain pierced the air in the peaceful neighbourhood of Mayvale provoking intrigue from neighbouring homes as lights flickered on and off in windows and the telephone wires became alive with curious voices. News travels fast in these parts and it doesn't take long for this inquisitive community to discover the instigator of the woman's misery. In this particular neighbourhood and this particular town, news doesn't only travel among the natural beings. Those from the underground and those that were thought to only exist in myth or nightmare learn of the commotion from the human world. One of those beings was especially interested in this woman and wanted only one thing: Vengeance.
India stormed down the crazy paved path from Kit's house in floods of tears wishing she'd never gone to see him. I hate him! She thought. I hate him! Last night he didn't seem so against my advances, she thought to herself confused thinking about the events of the night before.
With the slaying finished for the night India Cohen did her usual post slayage routine of reporting back to her watcher. She walked straight in when she reached his front door as Kit always insisted she did. Sometimes she knocked just to be polite. When she entered the house, she could hear the kettle boiling so wandered through the hallway to library at the back of the house. India popped her head round the door and saw her watcher sat at his desk, his glasses half way down his nose and engrossed in a book. She couldn't help but admire him. When she eventually came back down to Earth she gently knocked on the door to alert him of her presence and entered the room. He looked up from his book and smiled when he saw his slayer alive in front of him. "Hello India. How was patrol?" He asked. She told him all about her night and he listened intently taking notes and asking questions at relevant intervals for his Watcher's Diary entry he would write later that evening. Kit and India than went into the sitting room to have tea and biscuits as they watched a late movie as they often did as a little slayer-watcher tradition after patrolling. This time it was a movie that neither of them had any profound interest in but it was something to watch. Bored of the movie, India started telling jokes she'd heard earlier that day at University. They were terrible and yet they couldn't breathe for laughing. India leant on Kit to support herself, worn out from laughing and looked up at him smiling. He gazed back at her crystal blue eyes and she placed her hand on his leg. He didn't object. Slowly, she leaned forward, keeping her eyes locked on his. She moved closer to him, now their lips were almost touching and she could feel his breath on her skin. Her heart began beat ferociously within her chest and she yearned for him. India leant in to kiss him. He slid his arm around her waist and gently kissed her lips in a lasting embrace. He pulled away, "I...I shouldn't..." He whispered. "Shh." India replied, "Just kiss me." She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and gently pulled him toward her but he quickly got up. "We shouldn't India...You should leave. I'm...I'm sorry." Kit said.
That's what had initiated her anger. How could he be so cruel? He enjoyed last night I could feel it. The way he kissed me...ARGH! I never want to see him ever again! She thought. India's temper had reached boiling point and she turned around to face Kit's house and yelled "I wish you were dead Kit Bothwell!" as loud as her lungs would allow. She slowly continued down the path from Kit's house hanging her head in sorrow. She looked up from her long brown curls, matted with tears; she brushed them from her face and saw a figure step out from behind the aged oak tree at the foot of the garden. "Done!" The figure said in a low, husky feminine voice as the pendant of her necklace glowed emerald green.
Demons. Everybody has them. Whether they exist within or without doesn't matter. They're still there. Still trying to hurt you. Waiting for you trip and fall so they can kick you while you're down. You just can't let them win.
The cries of a woman in pain pierced the air in the peaceful neighbourhood of Mayvale provoking intrigue from neighbouring homes as lights flickered on and off in windows and the telephone wires became alive with curious voices. News travels fast in these parts and it doesn't take long for this inquisitive community to discover the instigator of the woman's misery. In this particular neighbourhood and this particular town, news doesn't only travel among the natural beings. Those from the underground and those that were thought to only exist in myth or nightmare learn of the commotion from the human world. One of those beings was especially interested in this woman and wanted only one thing: Vengeance.
India stormed down the crazy paved path from Kit's house in floods of tears wishing she'd never gone to see him. I hate him! She thought. I hate him! Last night he didn't seem so against my advances, she thought to herself confused thinking about the events of the night before.
With the slaying finished for the night India Cohen did her usual post slayage routine of reporting back to her watcher. She walked straight in when she reached his front door as Kit always insisted she did. Sometimes she knocked just to be polite. When she entered the house, she could hear the kettle boiling so wandered through the hallway to library at the back of the house. India popped her head round the door and saw her watcher sat at his desk, his glasses half way down his nose and engrossed in a book. She couldn't help but admire him. When she eventually came back down to Earth she gently knocked on the door to alert him of her presence and entered the room. He looked up from his book and smiled when he saw his slayer alive in front of him. "Hello India. How was patrol?" He asked. She told him all about her night and he listened intently taking notes and asking questions at relevant intervals for his Watcher's Diary entry he would write later that evening. Kit and India than went into the sitting room to have tea and biscuits as they watched a late movie as they often did as a little slayer-watcher tradition after patrolling. This time it was a movie that neither of them had any profound interest in but it was something to watch. Bored of the movie, India started telling jokes she'd heard earlier that day at University. They were terrible and yet they couldn't breathe for laughing. India leant on Kit to support herself, worn out from laughing and looked up at him smiling. He gazed back at her crystal blue eyes and she placed her hand on his leg. He didn't object. Slowly, she leaned forward, keeping her eyes locked on his. She moved closer to him, now their lips were almost touching and she could feel his breath on her skin. Her heart began beat ferociously within her chest and she yearned for him. India leant in to kiss him. He slid his arm around her waist and gently kissed her lips in a lasting embrace. He pulled away, "I...I shouldn't..." He whispered. "Shh." India replied, "Just kiss me." She ran her fingers through the back of his hair and gently pulled him toward her but he quickly got up. "We shouldn't India...You should leave. I'm...I'm sorry." Kit said.
That's what had initiated her anger. How could he be so cruel? He enjoyed last night I could feel it. The way he kissed me...ARGH! I never want to see him ever again! She thought. India's temper had reached boiling point and she turned around to face Kit's house and yelled "I wish you were dead Kit Bothwell!" as loud as her lungs would allow. She slowly continued down the path from Kit's house hanging her head in sorrow. She looked up from her long brown curls, matted with tears; she brushed them from her face and saw a figure step out from behind the aged oak tree at the foot of the garden. "Done!" The figure said in a low, husky feminine voice as the pendant of her necklace glowed emerald green.
Demons. Everybody has them. Whether they exist within or without doesn't matter. They're still there. Still trying to hurt you. Waiting for you trip and fall so they can kick you while you're down. You just can't let them win.