Seras, of course, having watched too many movies, went out in a fashionable, but not all too functional outfit. Although she looked relatively cute in her leather racing jacket, tight black pants, black tank top and Nine West boots, she wasn't all too comfortable. And she sure as hell didn't feel dangerous. She felt more like a Neiman Marcus manikin than anything else.
"I swear to God next time I come out here I'm choosing function over fashion." Seras crankily muttered to herself. "Not only do I feel stupid, these Goddamn boots are killing me!"
As she walked along some random street in Brooklyn, she felt her waist buzz. What the hell? She thought, before realizing she had forgot to leave her cell phone at home.
Because the last thing she needed was to get a call on her cell phone right when she was about to jump a coven, and have the theme song that goes along with Darth Vader's entrance to be the last thing she hears.
As she unclipped her cell phone, the damn thing slipped out of her grip and slammed on the floor. "Stupid piece of Japanese crap." She muttered to herself as she bent down to pick up the phone from the floor.
That stupid piece of Japanese crap is what saved her life.
As she bent over she felt a blazing heat streak across her back, and the mail box ahead of her spontaneously explode and vaporize. "Oh shit!" She gasped and she dropped her legs and allowed herself to fall on her back, which put out the small line of flames which were on it.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!" She yelled, looking about to see what it was. She soon found what she supposed to be the source of the flame: a woman who was just standing a few feet in front of her in the middle of the sidewalk.
The woman before her had blondish red hair, pitch black eyes, black pants, stiletto boots and a top that looked like a toga meets Vanity Fair. The devil had stumbled into fashion week and got a make over.
Seras already knew she was in trouble—if this thing could cast fireballs that vaporize mailboxes, taking her out might wouldn't be all that much harder.
It—not she, an It, a very definite it—cocked her head and smiled, only no amusement touched her cold black eyes. For some reason, Seras concluded that she had seen eyes like that in the bottom of her Christmas stocking one year when she had been a bad girl.
"So," It said, in a voice as cold as the ninth circle of Hell, "you're her daughter, hmm? Funny, for the offspring of one who ruined my plans, I'd think you'd be a little more… intimidating."
Seras smiled, trying to look casual as she leaned against a wall with one hand, grabbing a vile of holy water with another. "That's because you haven't seen me in formal wear." With any luck, her reflexes aren't very good…besides, if those fireballs were so easy to make, why didn't she try again after the first one missed? "And what are you?"
"I am Persephone, but you can call me goddess."
Seras blinked. "Wow, and some people call me a narcissist."
Persephone shook her head. "No, Narcissus was much prettier…in fact, I think I saw him down in the Village not to long ago."
She smiled. "Figures."
It grinned, and slowly spread her hands wide, obviously ready for another attack. Suddenly, Seras's cell phone buzzed again, causing Persephone to flinch, and a very large hole to appear where the cell phone used to be.
Almost at the instant Persephone flinched, Seras grabbed her flask of holy water and flung it at her head. The "goddess" didn't even blink as she stopped the flask in midair, and then crushed it with a look.
"Oh crap." Seras flung herself to the side as Persephone sent the flask straight at her—the impact of the flask on the wall where her head had been turned the brick to powder.
Seras rolled to her knee in a crouch, twisted, flung a stake at Persephone, and then pushed off her feet into a run. I had to be a slayer, didn't I? I couldn't be something simple, like the heir to millionaires lost in the jungle, could I?
The stake flew past her ear, as she expected, and she also expected to hear the rush of a fireball coming for her. Instead, bricks from the buildings on either side of her exploded out from their moorings and came at her, so that the crossfire of bricks looked like Indiana Jones trying to escape from the poison darts at the opening of Raiders.
Well, it could be worse.
Just then, she jotted past some of the only trees in Brooklyn (Wow, what do you know, there really ARE trees growing in Brooklyn) when they literally exploded into thousands of tiny razor-sharp toothpicks, heading straight at her. Nuts.
She instinctively jumped, knowing that there was no way in hell she could dodge any of those needles. She closed her eyes, hoping that she would at least make for a very pretty pincushion….
Then she landed on the ground.
On her feet.
She blinked and thought, Wow, I have the ability to leap over tall buildings in a single bound. Let's try for fasterthan a speeding bullet…
She then tested that theory as the street exploded behind her in a rain of dust and concrete. May the road rise up to meet you indeed. What were the Irish thinking with that blessing? Then again, who said they thought?...Hmm, must've gotten this bias from father dearest…who knew hating Irishmen were genetic, then again, he was British—
Pieces of curb rose up to meet her, and she dropped and rolled as they crashed into one another, turning into concrete dust.
I have to change my tactics; this is getting me nowhere fast. She can make trees explode, but she can't make me explode…hmm, I wonder if I can use that to my advantage…if she can't make me explode, could she do anything else to me directly, or does she need to throw things at me, like fireballs? And do I really want to get close enough to find out…
Or maybe I can force the issue.
Seras's eyes fell on a nearby graveyard, and she banked left, narrowly missing a telephone pole that had been harpooned at her. She leapt up-narrowly avoiding a manhole cover from cutting her legs off-flipped over the rail iron fence, and promptly ripped off one of the iron rails.
How to force close-quarters combat…move into closer quarters. She chose the nearest crypt and kicked the door in, not noticing it was already open.
In there was a six-foot well muscled blonde man already in there, growling as he stomping down on someone's knee, ripped his throat out with the stake in his hand before plunging it into the vampire's heart.
"And next time, stay the hell outta my city! Geez," he muttered, "Don't these people ever learn, I know Giuliani left town, but it's not like the rest of us have left." He turned, ready to leave, and found Seras standing at the door, blocking his path with an iron rail, and reached for a cavalry sword at his side. "Oh great, just what I didn't need."
"Just what I was thinking," she muttered. Where's the creature who was chasing me though?
Outside, Persephone took her time. She sensed that her prey had stopped moving, and she could stroll towards her. She was surprised, though, that everything thrown at her did not even slow Seras down. Normally, she would think of this as a challenge, but right now, it was just annoying.
"Hey, bitch, you want somma dis?"
Persephone stopped, and slowly turned towards the sound of the noise. Three men known as "Guidos" were approaching her, one with a knife. They acted as though they should be intimidating.
"Cuz I know I want somma dat!" Another of them yelled, laughing.
Persephone smiled. Men.
She had time.
Seras needed time. A machinegun might've helped too.
"Listen, I don't need this right now. I've had a long night, and I don't want any trouble. How about we both come back tomorrow night and finish each other off then, kay?"
The blonde man smiled an annoying little smile. "I've had a long night too. Kind of like the night of the long knifes, but I'm willing to kill one more vampire."
"One more wha—"
The blonde lunged, slicing overhead with the cavalry sword. Seras raised the rail to meet it, but it was a feint, and he changed directions to slash across at her stomach. She leapt back just in time, so the point of his sword only cut her shirt, and a little bit of epidermal tissue, not even drawing blood.
Don't tell me I'm going to get taken out by a frigging nutbar with a pointy object while I have a demon after me. Just my kind of luck.
She thrust at him, he guarded, lunged forward, and head butted her, pivoted his torso, and elbowed her in the eye. He spun, bringing the sword around for a decapitation strike, and she leapt aside before he could touch her.
"You're not bad… I haven't had a vamp this challenging since Igor."
Igor? Wasn't that a vampire with magical powers? Her brother had mentioned something about a shootout in Red Hook a few years back, involving a military strike, a vigilante group, and something about an air strike.
"Really? You must be taking it easy on me then, I haven't had it this easy since my Watcher trained me…he might've been tougher," she bluffed.
"Watcher? You're a—"
The door to the crypt blew open, being ripped off its hinges into the open air.
"Oh shit," they both said at once.
Persephone smiled. "Another man, how nice. They are so amusing, aren't they?"
The blonde slid his sword back in its scabbard and smiled, annoyingly, again. "I try to oblige."
The demon-god stepped forward. "Then be a good little boy and run along, I need to kill this abomination."
He nodded. "Well, it's obvious you can't run along, certainly not in those shoes. How about this, I kill her, you can pick up the pieces, kay?"
He turned back towards Seras, who had already been on her feet for a while. Her honey eyes met his deep blues, and she cocked her head at him, as though he was telling her something. He charged in at her, and she did the obvious, dropped and tried to sweep his leg. He anticipated and leapt over it, reached down, and grabbed her by the lapels, pulling her to her feet. He head butted her again, but this time, to her, it felt like a tap. "Ram it under my arm," he whispered. She blinked, then rammed the iron rail as he instructed. He blinked, and made several convincing gargling noises and made her think she'd run him through. He grabbed the rail, and almost took it with him as he fell to the crypt floor. She pulled it back, curious as to what this was about, and then turned to the creature who had pursued her.
Persephone was right in front of her, and smiled. "Nicely done. You sure you wouldn't want to work for me?"
"I don't even know who you are lady."
"Persephone, goddess of the underworld."
"Oh, yeah, you mentioned that….Riiiiight, suuuuure you are. You know, I had three vampires last week who told me that they was Lestat, so—"
"You have your mother's sense of humor. I like that…I'm still going to destroy it, but I like it."
Before Seras could question how she knew her mother, Persephone jabbed at her. Seras lifted the rail to intercept it, and the fist struck it like a gong going off. Persephone pulled back her hand leaving knuckle imprints in the bar.
Seras spun, slamming the blunt end of the rail into her face. Persephone barely blinked, grabbing the bar and throwing it out of Seras' grasp. She turned back to Seras and lashed out with a fist, and instead of dodging, Seras closed inside the swing and braced for the impact—she swore it broke something—and unleashed an uppercut into Persephone's nose that would've drove it out the back of a normal person's head. Persephone's nose didn't crack, but her head did snap back. Seras followed with a head butt and a hammer blow into her ribs.
Persephone swayed a little, then grabbed Seras by the throat and lifted her off the ground. She smiled. "You at least have style."
Persephone, for a reason Seras couldn't see, suddenly lost her balance. Seras took advantage, and slammed her arms up, breaking the creature's grip. As she fell back towards the floor, she brought both hands down onto either side of into Persephone's neck with karate chops. The slayer spun, ripped the stone lid off of the central crypt coffin, and then broke it to powder over Persephone. The Demoness fell back against the wall, and there, on the other end of the tomb, was the blonde man, smiling his little smile, and throwing a wooden stake at her heart.
Persephone vanished before the stake could hit.
Seras blinked, gasped for breath, and then looked at the other guy. "What the hell was that about?"
"It appears to me that the gods have not gone mad, they're just pissed…at you." He cocked his head. "Slayer, huh?"
"Yeah, I'm Seras, Seras Blackwell."
"Cool, nice to meet you."
If looks could kill, his family tree would have incinerated. Seras could feel her face grow warm as she looked at him, and she became slightly embarrassed. He smiled at her, and whether it was because she saw her blush or he was being nice, she couldn't tell. She moved on, trying to get this over with before she had to deal with further embarrassment. "Yeah, sure, whatever, and what the hell were you doing while she went after me? "
He chuckled. "Remember when she was about to slam you through a wall, and then suddenly lost her balance?"
"Yeah, and?"
"How do you think that happened?" He raised a simple stiletto heel. "I cut this off the back of her boot. She really should dress better for a combat zone. Stylish is nice, but survival is better. I can only imagine she got out of the way of the stake because I soaked it in holy water—I figured it would make a change from those soaked in turpentine, but then again, if I had set her on fire, we may not have had a problem anymore…."
She blinked. "What the hell are you?"
He smiled. "My name is Marco Cattalano. Welcome to Brooklyn."