Chapter 4

Jane wasn't a happy girl. Even now, the day after it happened, she was still scared. In fact, she had a feeling it might be a while before she got entirely over the events of the previous night. And that was just plain ridiculous. She was an intelligent person; surely she should be able to control her own unfounded fears. Sure, she had been attacked by a couple of mythical beings, but still... This was going too far.

Once again she stood up, only to pace around her room some more. How do you deal with irrational fears? A dim memory, of an article that she read maybe a year before, reared its head. Okay, you can deal with irrational fears by facing them. Which meant that was not the solution she was looking for. She might not want to be afraid of vampires, but that didn't mean she was willing to voluntarily face one either.

There had to be another way to get over her fear. Because this was getting really silly, she'd even slept with the light in the hallway on. As if that was the kind of light that could stop the creatures. She was starting to crack here, and she had the urge to call Dawn and demand an explanation. Yes, that was exactly what she needed to do.

No, it wasn't. Dawn had lied to her, and that lie had endangered her life. Okay, she admitted to herself, that wasn't really true. But the other girl had still lied to her, and now she was pacing here in her room, terrified of even stepping outside. Why was it so much worse now? That wasn't normal was it? Or was she actually suffering from something like PTSD? Nah, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder surely needed a lot more than this.

But she was still too afraid to leave her room, let alone get out of the house, and she was sure her parents had noticed that by now. Before long they'd probably come to ask questions she really didn't want to answer. Or maybe they'd even want her to go to a psychiatrist—yes; that was the kind of thing they'd do. Because no matter how well-intended their attempts to help her would be, they'd undoubtedly figure that a professional would be able to do more for her.

She didn't want to go to a psychiatrist! If she told the truth she'd probably be locked up in some kind of nuthouse or something, and she didn't want that to happen. But she was so scared. Sinking down to her knees, she let out the tears that she'd felt prickling in her eyes for the past hour.

"Why is the world so unfair?" she sniffed, tasting the salty tears that continued to stream down her face.

"That's just the way it is, honey."

"Daddy!" She hadn't heard him come in, and quickly she tried to wipe away the tears in an attempt to hide them. Her father caught her hand though, and instead showed her the handkerchief he was holding.

"Here, let me." And, for the first time since she was able to wipe her own nose, she allowed her father to clean her face. "There, that's better isn't it?"

All she could do was nod, her daddy was here again. Surely he would make everything right again. No he wouldn't. He couldn't do anything unless she told him about the vampires and she couldn't do that. Her father was a good man, and she loved him dearly, but like her he believed that the world was rational, and everything about the world said that vampires couldn't possibly exist. He'd never believe her, and instead figure it was a what-do-you-call-it, a substitute or something for what had really happened. A way to make herself believe it couldn't be real.

Was that what had happened? No, it couldn't be. She'd seen them with her own eyes, and Xander had been far too evasive about certain things for her to have imagined it all. It had been real, but she couldn't tell her family about it. Was that why Dawn hadn't told them? No, that didn't matter. The three of them could tell each other everything, even if it was something that sounded as ridiculous as vampires.

"Oh daddy, I'm so scared," Jane wailed again as she buried herself even deeper in his embrace. Her whole world was so messed up right now; she needed something solid that could ground her. Listen to that, she almost sounded like Dawn with her grounding. Hey, was that her reason as well? Had Dawn simply reacted differently than her? Not showing anyone how scared she was, but instead hiding the fear beneath a thin veneer of violence?

That did make a twisted sort of sense, but she had a feeling there was more to it. But why couldn't she think straight? Why was she so scared about what had happened? She needed a distraction, something that stopped her from constantly thinking about what had happened.

"Shh, it's alright baby. You're safe now." How could she be safe when there were monsters walking around in the night?

"Daddy," she said while squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Nobody was allowed to look in her eyes and see the horror depicted there.

"Jane, I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help you last night." He shouldn't be feeling sorry; it wasn't his fault after all. Yeah right, like he'd believe that. She had been so immersed in her own pain she never even thought about how her parents would feel.

"But it wasn't your fault daddy. T-they did it." And even if he'd been there he might not have had any more of an idea about what to do than she had. And that would have meant she might have lost him. NO! What had happened was bad enough without making it even worse.

"I should've been there to help you. It's my job as your father to make sure that you're safe." But he couldn't have done anything! And she couldn't tell him that because she would have to explain her reasoning.

"No daddy, I don't want you to feel guilty." This was so unfair; a couple of things that shouldn't really exist tried to eat her, and now everyone in her family was sad. And all she had done today was stay in her room where they couldn't see her, couldn't be sure that she was safe. That needed to be changed. "I'm afraid to leave my room, but I want to talk to mama as well. Can you help me?

"Of course, baby." She could see a slight smile appear on her father's face. Yes, this was the way to go—one step at a time. This first step was actually exiting her room, and later on she might even try going outside. Well, maybe the backyard. While the sun was still up.

XXX

Why had she let herself talk herself into this? And what the hell kind of sentence was that anyway? The earlier confrontation with the soft, weak, side of her had ruined her emotionless state. Emotions were a liability, that was something she had been taught her entire life, and she couldn't afford them now. Yet she had to deal with them at this moment, while they interfered with her ability to stay focused on what mattered. How could that stupid kid have gotten himself into this much trouble anyway? And why was she doing this again? Because he wasn't a bad kid.

The internal dialogue, that Dawn was having, was more and more starting to turn into a real fight. But she couldn't have that right now. She was approaching the territory that Fred had told her was controlled by the fools trying to entrap her. And why? It didn't make any sense for them to do that. She hadn't done anything really bad yet in LA. Well, except for beating the two guys up, but that wasn't the kind of thing you'd create an elaborate plan for.

No, there had to be something more to all this, and once she'd dealt with the kidnappers she'd try to find out. That might mean she'd have to let one live though. Oh well, you can't have everything, can you?

But back to business now. It was time for planning; bad news first. The information she had received intimated that there were between twenty and thirty potential targets, and they were expecting her. The good news was that she was armed, carried enough bullets to kill all of them—unless she got caught up in a long firefight—and of course the fact that she was Noir.

Well, that was a short summary of the pros and cons, and it was obvious that the pros outweighed the cons. She was the best—even if her body might not yet agree with her on that point—and this bunch of amateurs would soon learn that. Now all she needed was a plan of approach.

This particular gang, group, whatever, went by the ridiculous name of The Gilded Rings, and operated mostly from a single building. Which was where they'd probably stashed Dave. She mentally reviewed the information she'd heard about the building; three stories high, a basement, one main entrance, and a second one at the back. Both heavily guarded. The goons were probably in possession of at the very least several submachine guns, maybe even heavier weapons.

Expected level of competence with their chosen weapons: middling to fair. The danger was most likely to come from the incompetents using automated weaponry. Dave could probably be found in the basement, which was good as he'd stay out of danger that way, while on the other hand that also meant she couldn't just extract him either.

The parameters for the mission were obvious then. Go in, kill almost everybody, find out why they set this up, and free Dave. Easy as pie.

Damn it! One year, one single year was all the time she needed to gain the strength she needed to pull off something like this. One year of training with her gun, one year in which she could perfect the techniques her mind knew, but her body didn't. And all she'd gotten was less than two months of physical training, and what amounted to one whole day of training with a gun.

Life, as they say, sucks. But there was nothing she could do about it. The other personalities now seemed to understand this as well, and pulled back; leaving the beautiful emotional void she was used to. Patting the pockets of her jacket she made sure everything was still in place, and turned into the street where the building was.

In a way, this was the most dangerous part. How well did these people know her description? Would they try to kill her the moment she walked past their base? But she couldn't do anything without having seen the building for herself. The information was nice, but it had still come verbally, and nothing was better than looking at something for yourself. The only people who she might have trusted to give an accurate description of the building would have been her former partners. Both of them, either of them. It's not like they'd ever really work together.

With a knife hidden in her hand, Dawn walked past the building, doing her best to appear not to be paying any attention to it, while in fact she was busy analyzing what she saw of it out of the corner of her eye. Two guards outside the front door, another two by the window, probably another set behind the door, guarding the hallway. That made six people that she'd have to get past.

A small alley at one side of the building, also containing guards. Probably the alley that led to the backdoor. Yes, these people were indeed protecting their base well. For a moment she wondered why they would do so. Right now it might be because of her, but the guards seemed far too familiar with their places to have only just been placed there. No, most likely there was another reason, and hey, maybe she was lucky and the reason they were guarding it so heavily was because they kept a lot of money in there.

She had passed the building now, without anybody trying to kill her, and continued walking for a couple of hundred meters. When she finally stopped she considered her options. The front was out, as was the backdoor. But that didn't make any sense. Why hadn't they left any obvious gaps in their defense? Didn't they understand that they'd never get her if she couldn't figure out a way to get inside?

No, they had to know that, so there had to be another way in. One that wasn't guarded, or which would at least appear to be unguarded. And if both the front and back were out, that only left the roof. So, they obviously had a roof entrance as well—an entrance that could be reached without all too much trouble. She guessed there were no guards on the roof itself, and to someone stupid that might look like an invitation.

To her it looked like an invitation as well, but one that said 'Come and join us at the massacre of the tiny stairwell that comes down from the roof.' So no, that was not the way to survive this. When she thought of something that might work however, she felt a tiny bit of emotion—just enough to have the corners of her mouth curl up into an evil grin. Oh yes, there was something she could do after all.

. . . .

Standing on the roof next to the one she intended to enter, Dawn saw that she had been right. There was an entrance there, and it did appear to be unguarded. It was rather insulting that they believed she'd fall for something like that though, did they really think she was some kind of little kid who believed everything that was shown in movies?

Not that it really mattered, the entrance posed a danger to her, and she needed to deal with it before she did anything else. Stepping onto the other roof she walked in a straight line for the metal door, stopping only once in order to retrieve a piece of solid looking pipe. The cold metal would work well enough so there was no real need to look for anything better.

Upon reaching the door, she first checked whether it could actually be opened—it would be rather silly to do something to a door that she couldn't use anyway—and once she was sure it did, she wedged the pipe under the handle. The easiest way to prevent anyone from opening it from the inside. Once that exit had been secured, she continued walking to the other side of the roof and jumped over the small alley. At only about a meter wide, even her body could handle that. And as the guards down there weren't paying attention to the sky, they never noticed her either.

Now it was time to do what needed to be done. Taking out her gun she checked the clip, and screwed the silencer on. The fools might make a lot of noise, but she had no intention of attracting the police to this location. Okay, she realized that the police wouldn't come here until everything was over, but using a silencer was good for things besides evading the law.

Closing her eyes she tried to calm herself. It was finally time for her to rejoin the real world. Her rest was over; so far every murder she had committed had actually had a good reason—both persons had been immediate threats to her safety. But while it might cost Dave his life, she could still back out of this mission.

No. With her eyes closed like this, her other senses seemed to be enhanced even beyond her natural emotionless level, and through the gloves she could clearly feel the outline of her gun. The gun she had bought for a reason, and while this was earlier than she would have chosen, it was still the same thing she had always done. So, taking a deep breath she once again readied herself for a mission.

She looked over the edge, into the alley; the men standing there really were the proverbial sitting ducks. Holding the gun with both hands she aimed carefully before pulling the trigger. The recoil was still the same as the day before, but by now she had more or less adapted to it, and it no longer presented a problem.

That first shot had hit her target, and he fell dead to the ground. Instant brain surgery. She resisted the urge to shake her head; that comment had definitely come from either the Dawn personality, or the other one. But after that first shot the rest were just as easy. While the goons were still looking around for the shooter she had all the time to pick them off, one by one.

And when the last one lay dead on the ground, she spared a moment to wonder why nobody ever looked up in these cases. Granted, the targets weren't as big when you looked down upon them, but a capable assassin didn't need large targets.

Dawn then aimed at the window on the third floor she had chosen as her entrypoint, and emptied her gun at it before exchanging the clip for a fresh one. Ready for the next part of her mission, and with the gun in her hand, she jumped through the window.

XXX

Stepping into the building was easier than exiting the car had been. At least here she didn't have to go out into the open again. And with her father by her side Jane felt at least a little safe. But even so, before actually stepping into the library, she looked at the sun and estimated how long it would be before it would go under. Still a couple of hours light left, she thought, but wasn't really sure as she had never been any good at estimating that kind of thing.

"It's okay baby, go inside, I'm here with you," her father urged when he noticed her hesitation.

Yes, she really should go inside. After she finally managed to convince her muscles that she really wanted to do so, she stepped through the entrance and into one of her favorite places in Sunnydale. The public library. Only her family could come up with something like this. Oh, she was pretty certain other families would decide that the victim of an attack like that needed to go outside as soon as possible.

Psychologically it was the best way to confront her fears, but most people would take their child to the beach, the mall, or even just on a short stroll. Her parents on the other hand had decided that not only would it be best to face those fears, but try to understand them as well. And for that you needed books.

Not that she really minded it, in a strange and twisted way that fit her family, bringing her here actually made sense. And they had gone to a lot of trouble for it too. Even with them being among the main contributors for the library, it hadn't been that easy to gain access. Sure, it helped that they were also friends with the head-librarian, but she was pretty sure that not even they would have normally received permission to enter during the holiday season. Only the fact that it had been for her sake had probably managed to convince the man he should allow them to do so.

But still, she didn't really think this would help her any. Sure, there would be reports and things like that about cases similar to what she had told her parents had happened, but that wasn't what had really taken place. And reports about vampire attacks weren't very likely to have been subjected to any decent research.

"You don't have to read anything about it," her father broke into her thoughts, causing her to look at him in surprise. The slightly comforting smile on his face was belied by the pain she could see in his eyes; pain caused by the lack of her usual reaction upon entering this building. "Yes, it would be helpful to you, but not if you don't believe you're ready for it. In this your mother and I decided that it might be best to trust your own judgment. You can just go read some other books if you'd prefer."

Oh, okay. But there wasn't really any book that she felt like reading. A sappy romance wasn't exactly something she was in the mood for, and a detective or horror story came a little too close to what had happened to her. And with the way her mind kept wandering she had a feeling that reading non-fiction would just be a waste of time. Her parents had gone to all this trouble though, so she couldn't just ask to be taken home. "I-I'll just walk around a little, see if I can find anything."

Once again the pain manifested itself in her father's eyes, but he only smiled and told her that was fine. "I'll just stay here then, where you can see me, okay?"

Yes, that would be great. He wouldn't be looking constantly over her shoulder, but still be somewhere close so she could draw comfort from his presence. She even managed a wan smile to indicate how much she appreciated that. "Thank you daddy." Maybe once she had found a way to deal with her troubles she could talk in something other than a small voice as well.

Jane started her walk in the children section. It had been years since she last borrowed any of these books, but she still remembered them well. Trailing her hands over the jacket of one of her favorites, she recalled how she had laughed at the antics of the main character. And she wondered why she had thought it so silly when she'd read it a second time, had she really grown out of liking books like these?

Deciding to test that, she took the book and opened it. But after paging through a couple of chapters she remembered what her biggest problem with these books was nowadays. They all held only a single plotline; a little boy or girl that needed to solve one single problem, without needing to think about the greater consequences of their actions. Something that was so out of touch with reality that it could only be considered as interesting for little children. No, she had really outgrown these books, and with a heavy sigh of resignation she put it back.

Walking over to the adult section she repeated the same behavior there, walking in between the bookcases, and letting her mind go blank while looking for the titles she already knew. And whenever she found one she recalled the story that had gone with it, stories in which, most of the time, the hero won. Stories that told her that despite all the bad things in the world, in the end it was good that triumphed. A message that she had really needed to be reminded of.

But they were only stories. She almost started crying again, real life wasn't like that at all. In real life there were no actual heroes, only people that were in the right spot, at the right time. Or more often than not, weren't there when they were needed. She was grateful to Xander for his actions in saving her life, but she also realized that he wasn't a real hero. Not in the way as heroes were described in books.

If he had been, surely he wouldn't have been thought of as the class clown. Surely people would have known about the things he did. On the other hand, she realized that maybe that was the way heroes worked in the real world, Clark Kent like. But even so, it was hard to think of the object of her friend's crush as a hero. And if he wasn't a hero, with superstrength, superbrains, or other superpowers that meant normal humans could deal with what had happened to her.

Normal people. People like her. She could overcome her fear; she could learn to deal with what had happened. No. Not could, would. She would overcome it. Yes, that was the spirit. And with a strength of purpose that she hadn't believed possible when she woke up that morning Jane decided to take her life back into her own hands.

It would take time, it would be hard, and undoubtedly it would hurt her, but she was in control of her own life. No mere subhuman species could take that away from her, she was smarter than them all. And if the vampires thought they'd get a second chance at the defenseless little girl, well... They'd have a surprise coming.

She had often wondered why a small town like this had devoted an entire section to mythology—when those books could just as easily have been in the history section—but today she was happy for it. Mythology had always seemed silly to her, people believing in gods and other non-existing entities. Of course, like with every other genre, there were books among them that everybody should read. But copies of the works of Homeros, Livius and other great masters already adorned her parents' walls, so she didn't need to borrow them here.

For the first time however, she no longer saw the other mythological books as a waste of time. Now they had become a challenge, the way for her to conquer her own fears. She couldn't recall who it was that had said that people only feared things they didn't understand, but she was about to prove him right.

XXX

Landing among the splinters of glass was Dawn's first clue that jumping through the window might not have been the best possible plan after all. It hadn't exactly been safety glass, and as she now rolled through its remains she picked up a number of cuts. Blood, her DNA left at the scene of the crime. If the police did actually come here, they might find it. And while it wasn't anywhere on record they might store it, only to call upon it once they'd found another trace at a different crime scene.

No, she would have to deal with that, but after she had completed her mission. The mission came first, and she could already hear her first target coming towards her, probably to check on the noise she'd made. A quick check of the room gave her a second clue however; there was nowhere to hide.

"I thought I heard something." Whoever it was on the other side of the door obviously didn't think there was any danger. Unless he expected people to be frightened of his voice.

"I don't know what it was I heard, that's why I'm looking, ain't it?" She couldn't hear the other one. Was he talking over a radio? That might pose a problem. But as it was a problem she couldn't possibly solve there was no use in worrying about it.

The target had reached the door by now however, and she still didn't have a place to hide. Only one option was left to her now, and Dawn took it.

The man on the other side of the door was turning the handle, but hadn't stopped talking either. Foolish man. "Of course I'm careful, do you-" She never heard what the man had planned to say next, and as last words went, these weren't the best she'd ever heard either.

"Christ!" Ah, he hadn't been talking over a radio; that was good. And having located the position of the other man she fired her gun again, creating two more bullet-holes in the door to join those that had spelled the death of the first man.

When no returning fire had come after ten seconds she carefully eased the door further open, only to have it stuck when it encountered the body of her first target. She was able to peer through the small opening though. There wasn't anyone else in the part of the room she could see, so Dawn decided she might as well try opening the door. Having to shove the body along with the door made it rather difficult though, and she had a feeling that if anyone saw how she kept kicking and shoving the door they'd never believe she was a capable assassin.

In the end though she did manage—after a couple of running kicks that she hoped hadn't betrayed her presence—to get the door opened wide enough for her to squeeze herself through the opening. Why couldn't she have at least a bit of strength in this body? If there had actually been anyone else in the room, or even within earshot, she would have been dead by now.

Throwing a glance at the corpse that had been blocking the door she almost took a step back from the grisly sight. He didn't exactly look like he'd enjoyed dieing, did he? No wonder the other guy had sounded so shocked.

Thinking about whom... She looked to where she expected to see the other and noticed that while she had only managed to hit him once, that one shot had been enough to take him out permanently. Good, now she could go and see about the other ones. If she moved fast enough she might be able to take out a large number before they even noticed she was there. And since she had now more or less proven they were all deaf that couldn't possibly be very hard.

. . . .

They were exactly where she'd expected them to be. Either these people really didn't have any imagination or she was even better than she believed. How about a combination of both then? Yes, that sounded about right. Dawn almost smiled as she looked at the group of eight, guarding the small stairway that led to the roof.

While the men looked as if they were expecting her to arrive any moment, there was still some talking going on.

"What's taking her so long? Are you sure she's coming?"

"Yes, I'm sure. You heard Anthony report that she was scouting the building. She'll be here any time now."

"Maybe he was mistaken?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you've all seen the picture. It isn't hard to recognize someone from that." Dawn stiffened as she heard that. Picture? They had a picture of her? How had they gotten hold of that? She hadn't noticed anybody taking pictures Saturday. That was something she needed answers to, and she didn't feel like waiting any longer.

As they all expected her to come from the stairway, she decided she might as well make use of those expectations. Carefully taking aim she targeted one of the men closest to the stairway, standing in a spot where he might be seen from above. Sloppy work like that should be punished anyway.

The silencer couldn't be heard over the talk of her welcoming committee; but when one of their own suddenly crashed to the floor, the bunch of amateurs instantly turned into a panicky, nervous bunch of amateurs. Some of them shouting in fright, others turning silent, but all turning their guns in the direction of the stairs. Away from her.

Stepping out into the hallway she didn't waste anymore time and quickly started shooting them. By the time half of them were dead, they started to realize their mistake. But that was far too late. The sudden cry of warning was cut off as she shut the man up, permanently. That left only three more. One was down before they had managed to turn around, the second followed shortly, but the third managed to find some cover for himself.

Quickly ducking back into the room she had just exited, she cursed as the heavy report of her target's submachine gun sounded through the building. Well, there went her silent approach. Even these people couldn't miss hearing that racket. She didn't have any time to lose now, she really needed to finish this guy and check the rest of this floor for enemies. Going down to the next one would be difficult enough without anyone left up here.

Letting herself slide to the floor she emptied her gun without looking in the target's direction. An action that called upon a memory that she didn't want to think about. That was over and done with. This was a different world. Quickly putting in a fresh magazine she waited for the expected sound from the other man. An amateur who couldn't think beyond his immediate survival.

When the expected silence arrived that announced her target had run out of ammunition, Dawn quickly stood up and made her way back into the hallway. This needed to be done fast, before he realized he could simply pick up a gun from one of his friends. However, she was counting on the fact that his panic would prevent him from thinking like that. What little training or experience he had should prompt him to reload his own gun instead of taking one from the others, and that would take too much time.

The sight of a terrified face looking up at her over the barrel of her gun proved that she had been right. However, sooner than she'd expected he overcame his fear and started reaching for one of the other guns. She put a stop to that by pulling the trigger. The fact that the bullet had passed by his head with only millimeters to spare seemed to cause the fear to return, and probably made him wonder why she hadn't killed him yet.

She knew exactly what she looked like at that moment. A little girl partly covered in blood, carrying a gun, and with emotionless eyes pinning him into place. But as she needed answers fast she decided something more was required, and, letting her own control slip for a moment, the Kirika personality allowed the other one to take over.

The change in her target was as immediate as it was in herself, emotions washed over her and she wallowed in them. Blood. Raising her left arm she brought it to her mouth in order to lick it, and reveled in the coppery taste. This was life. After having been imprisoned for so long she was finally let out to play again, and she was dropped straight into a beautiful situation.

A whimper escaped the man in front of her—who by now realized someone else was in charge of this body—and she focused her attention back to him. The gun was fired again, but this time not to miss. The scream of pain that emanated from her victim sounded like music to her ears. Oh, if she only had a couple of hours with him she could make him admit anything. But she didn't have that much time, more victims were waiting for her on the floors below, and she wouldn't want to disappoint them, now would she?

"Tell me about the picture and you'll be free to go." She had paid attention to her body's first encounter with Dave; the upbeat sound of her voice had terrified that boy a lot, and why fix something when it so obviously worked?

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Dawn, if she could call herself that, sighed and once more pulled the trigger.

"Try again."

The man only started crying and shouting in pain even more, until she had enough of it. Shooting the guy was nice, but she really needed those answers. "Stop whining and answer the bloody question."

Although still sniffling like the little coward he was, the man finally realized he should just answer the question. About time too, she wanted to go after the fresh ones. There wasn't a lot of fun left in this one. "We were given the picture. H-he hired us to kill you."

"Who?"

"I don't know; he never spoke to me." The man was probably telling the truth, so, after taking a moment to enjoy killing him, she turned in the direction of the stairway. The only part of her that would have honored a promise about letting the victim go was the weak Dawn, all the others recognized the danger in such an action. Unlike them though, she actually enjoyed breaking promises like that.

. . . .

Before reaching the stairs she had remembered that she should check the rest of the floor, but unfortunately that had been a waste of time. It would have been fun to be able to kill some time by entertaining another victim, but unfortunately that wasn't to be. So she was now standing at the top of the stairway, undoubtedly with several people waiting for her to join them at the bottom of it.

Images of the carnage she could have inflicted on them had she been in a more capable body flashed through her mind, but unfortunately reality reasserted itself. She couldn't just dive between them, a gun in each hand and kicking and shooting everyone into the hospital. Not that they'd ever survive long enough to arrive at a place like that. Not while she was in command of this body.

How to go about this though? Maybe she could use one of the submachine guns they had tried to use against her? No, while she liked the poetic justice in it, her body couldn't possibly handle one of those. A distraction then? Yes all she needed was for them to be distracted for a moment so that she might do what she wanted to do. But what kind of distraction could she use? Something that was in ample supply. As the obvious solution came to her she couldn't resist the laughter that resulted from it, oh yes, that would be a distraction indeed.

Turning away from the stairs she briefly considered the effect her insane laughter might have had on the people waiting for her. Insane laughter? Where had that come from? She wasn't insane; she just had a slightly different moral standard than most people. And what did she care about the effect? Having found what she needed though she started to drag the first body to the stairs, only to have it remain it exactly where it was.

Okay, she should have remembered that from before. Her body was far too weak to drag theirs. How to solve this then? She had some time to think it over; nobody else would be joining her up here anytime soon. She couldn't drag them anywhere, maybe if the floor had actually been smooth that might have been possible, but with these damned carpets everywhere that couldn't be done.

After thinking it over for a couple of minutes she finally came up with a solution, it wasn't pretty but then, that was just the way she liked it. Taking hold of her chosen distraction she tried to turn him around. That was still hard work, but it was at least easier than dragging him over the bloody carpets. Heh-heh, bloody carpets, how apt. And so she exerted all of her strength in rolling the corpse to the stairs.

Once she had managed to get it to the top of the stairs Dawn decided that, despite the difficulties she had in crossing the corners and doorways, it had been fun and she might as well get a second one. A double distraction was always better than a single one, and why shouldn't she enjoy what she was doing here anyway?

. . . .

"Hey! Down there! I'm coming for you," Dawn called before non-to-gently pushing and kicking the two corpses down the stairs.

The sounds they made as they landed on the steps would probably have been enough to make most people throw up. She however loved the sound, not just because of the sound itself, but also for the reaction it had on the others with whom she shared a mind. They believed they could keep her captive, but she had been studying them, and now that she was free she would make sure they'd regret that.

The sound of several shots being fired reminded her of where she was though, and she brought her attention back to where it should be. The shooting stopped very quickly though as her victims realized what they were firing at.

"Holy shit!" "Crap!" "Damn!" Were all things that she was pretty sure their mothers would have punished them for saying. But as their poor old mothers weren't present, she would just have to be the one doing the punishing. The smile that adorned her face as she descended the stairs would have told anyone that they would've been better off with their mothers though.

Walking silently down the steps she once again regretted the fact that she couldn't use two guns at the same time; that really would've made this more fun. But as always that could be blamed on the weak body that prevented her from having so much fun. Now that she was thinking about it, where did she come from anyway? She knew that the other personalities had wondered the same thing, but they were weaklings—except for the one that had been in control the past month—and couldn't figure their way out of a paper bag.

Still, she could think about that at a later time, right now it was time to have some fun. She was actually almost at the bottom before one of her victims decided to look up, not that it helped him much as the bullet in his brain prevented him from doing anything else. Ever. But the way he collapsed to the floor drew the attention of the others as well. But before they had overcome their shock she started firing at them as well. Her blood was boiling, the passion flowing, and she could smell the heavy scent of pleasure and pain in the air. Ah, it was good to be alive.

"One dead, two dead, three dead, four dead. I want to wear a paper hat," she sang. Not that she really cared about the text, but it was something like that bottle-of-beer song. "Five fools at the bottom of the stairs, and when I shoot one, that only leaves four." Why couldn't she remember how the song went? Oh well, it was over far too soon anyway.

As she stood there on the bottom of the stairs, once more surrounded by corpses she felt some disappointment. This hadn't been that much fun. They had barely put up any resistance, how could a little girl scare them that much? And of course, there was something else that had ruined the effect. Glaring at the silencer adorning her gun she decided to take it off, it took away the beautiful sound of the gunshots.

"SHIT! That's hot!" Ouch, why hadn't she remembered that silencers were hot after you've used them? Suddenly that didn't seem to matter anymore though; there was something wrong. She had no idea what it could be, but something wasn't right.

Spinning around quickly to find out if it was something behind her she felt the burning agony of a bullet entering her body. The shock of the sudden pain was great, but as she was falling to the floor she could still see the most important thing about the man who had just shot her.

A golden ring, the same ring those amateurs that had come after Buffy wore. That's how they'd known about her. The one she'd killed had even warned her, but she hadn't paid any attention to it then, figuring it to be the normal boosting of a defeated fool. But now it was obvious, a member of the Order of Teraka had come here to kill her. And was far too close to succeeding.

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Post-fic comments: Well, I have a feeling you wouldn't like it if I said this was the last chapter... So I'll just tell you the next one will come on Monday. If you don't think this was violent enough, I put the R version up in the DawnHalloween group. Anyway, for those of you who reviewed thanks for doing so. After all, 9 out of 10 Sims agree: Reviews improve an author's wellbeing.

Okay, the feedback answer thing.

BF110C4: Thanks for the compliment. Anyway, the battle for Dave is still going on, probably not quite the way you expected it, so you'll have to wait until the next part to find out what happens. Ah, and then there is Jane... Well, you've read this chapter and the next will say a bit more about her as well. I don't want to spoil that.

The Unicorn: Thanks for the continued reviews. The book, I haven't read it but I'll certainly try to do so sometime soon.
Kirika was indeed trained from a very young age, I think 6 is rather older than it actually was. She was more or less selected by birth and probably started learning how to shoot from the moment she could stand. And that does mean that Dawn is able to learn how to use the gun faster than Xander. On the other hand it also means that she's got a higher standard, in the series she was practically able to hit whatever she wanted. No matter how difficult the shot was.

The bullets thing I misunderstood, sorry about that. Anyway, in the show they always loaded their clips/magazines (whatever you like to call them) themselves. And while I haven't shown that here, it wouldn't exactly make for an interesting scene, she does that here as well. It's so much easier to buy a load of bullets than filled clips. The whole practice thing is something I haven't decided on yet, but I don't think beneath Sunnydale High School will be a good idea while Buffy and the others don't know about her.
Jane, read the answer above :-) A flare gun, I hadn't thought of that yet. I'll think about it. Buffy's reaction on the other hand I've already figured out, but won't be in this story.

Allen Pitt: Yes, Dawn might be able to find Buffy there, if that's what she wanted. But I won't say anything more about all that, try again in a couple of stories... What else, oh yeah. The Green Lady thing, I'll admit that Drusilla would recognize Dawn as such if she'd see her. Of course, that still leaves the question whether they'll ever meet. Whistler, Doyle, and Lorne. Phew... Not in this story. In future ones? Well, there are possibilities that it'll happen, but when or how? Sorry, but for some reason you pose the questions that will be answered in stories I either don't want to spoil or haven't completely planned out yet. I can tell you that IF they show up, they won't have a very big role. The cast would just get too big, and after having read about the other personality, would you really want her to sing in Caritas? Lorne might get a heart attack.