Title: YOU'RE MADE OF MY SIN

Author: charmingsyrai aka syrai

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Series: Envenom

Characters: original characters

Timeline: Post Chosen

Prompt: #14 coffin/buried for 50darkfics at livejournal . com

Rating: R (I'm so not good with these)

Warnings: bad language, sexual references

Word count: about 3500

Summary: waking up in a coffin, realizing you've been buried alive, well… it isn't what one might call pleasant that's for sure and Rhian ain't that fond of it either…

Author's Notes: ... I feel the need to note that the vampires in this buffyverse aren't exactly what they were in the 'real' buffyverse, not anymore anyway, but the changes are explained by my partner in crime (that'd be lilhobbit) in her fic "prologue" that can be found from her journal for now.

About this ficcie, the tenses keep changing in this lil ficcie, but it's actually thought out and it's meant to be so. Try and keep up.

The title of the fic was inspired by VAST's "pretty when you cry" - beautiful, beautiful, beautiful song. Oh btw, here's how I keep picturing Rhian looks -- a picture of Stiles with such pretty hair.

Woah, some long A/N there. Sorry.

YOU'RE MADE OF MY SIN

When she woke up, all she could see was darkness. She blinked a few times trying to give her eyes some time to adjust, trying to remember on whose bed had she ended up this time, but nothing happened. The darkness stayed, no memories surfaced. At first she didn't dare to move in fear of waking up someone who might have been sleeping in the same room with her, possibly in the bed next to her… but… it didn't feel like a bed, it didn't feel like a room. She was lying on something that felt hard against her back even though it had been covered with some fabric. Plus, she knew she was wearing some strange clothes that couldn't possibly be hers. Too soft and they smelled simply too fresh.

Then, she tried moving, but realized it was almost impossible as her hands hit a solid wall just like her head and legs did. It was no room; rooms weren't this small.

She wanted to scream, but couldn't. She was too afraid to do anything at all.

This was how it had happened.

This was how she had woken up in a coffin six feet under; alone with only darkness and the smell of soil around her. She could hear something, but she didn't know what it was. It sounded like something was crawling nearby, too near. Too loudly. When it had happened, she had had no idea what it was about. She had no idea what the smell was, what the noises were. Later, much later, she learnt they were worms.

And so, she had panicked. Her fists had started frantically hitting the wooden material above her searching for a way out. A salvation, air, whatever. She had needed to get out, she had needed to breathe. At least, that's what she thought at the time. If she had stopped, even for a moment to think about the situation better, she would've noticed that even when she took a deep breath, the air didn't reach her lungs. She had thought she was suffocating when in fact, she didn't even need the air around her anymore.

When her knuckles gave in to the pain and opened up; bled, that's when the tears flooded down. Some girls, they were able to keep their composure while crying; they managed to look cute and adorable with their little tissues and occasional sniffs and snobs. This girl, she was definitely not one of them; never had been. She howled and whimpered, she yelled and begged for someone to come and help her, but no one came. If someone had seen her, they would've frowned and called her pathetic. Which, of course, would've been very correct. She had, however, learnt to live with that.

She couldn't feel her fingers anymore, but still her crying got louder. Or maybe it got louder because she couldn't feel the pain anymore. She was going to die, wasn't she? Here. In the dark. Alone. She was going to die and no one would find her. Ever.

No one would miss her.

After God knows how long, her fists finally broke through the wood and a handful of something fell on her face surprising her. She didn't stop to spit it out of her mouth, not even after she recognized it to be dirt. It was all over her, it hurt in her eyes; crawled down her throat, but she ignored it. Instead, she kept pushing through the substance her hands had encountered; kept clawing her way out of her frightening trap.

Maybe she could save herself. I don't ask a lot from you… but for just this once, she prayed in her mind, let me save myself. Let me save myself.

When her hand had met the air, that was when her brain had finally agreed to register the fact she had indeed been under ground. That was when she had understood she had been buried alive. What kind of sick fuck would do something like that?

Why me? Why the fuck me?

She yelped when a hand unexpectedly grabbed hers; someone's cold fingers locked themselves around hers and a minute later, she could feel her body being pulled upwards. She didn't resist and just like that she was pulled through the ground, freed from the damned pitfall and violently thrown on the grass. Her stomach hit the ground and a whimper parted her lips as her chin hit a small stone hidden in the grass. She didn't move, but only kept panting trying to fill her lungs with sweet air. It was a reflex driven by her mind, not by need.

She didn't have to look around to know they were in a graveyard, she could feel it, smell it. If she had looked up, she would've noticed the stone at the end of the opened grave next to her. It had her name on it. But since she didn't look up, she missed it.

"So nice of you to finally wake up, Rhian," someone's low, husky voice spoke and even though she had known someone was there; her mystery rescuer, she was startled by the voice. It sounded so… frustrated, so angry as if she had done something wrong and she hated that. When her mother had been angry at her, she had always been punished. Always. That was why she had left. She hated when people were angry at her. She couldn't deal with it, she didn't want to.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" The voice spoke again, but now it sounded more amused than angry and this time Rhian responded. She propped her upper body from the ground but only to turn around to look at the figure behind her. The figure, it turned out to be a man… or a boy depending on how you looked at it… male, she decided, as the voice had very clearly suggested. Standing there, illuminated by the street lamp next to them, he looked tall, but she figured it was because she was still sitting on the wet grass. He was wearing jeans that looked to be about ready to fall apart and a metallica T-shirt that at least told her he had a good taste in music. Unless he was one of those that only bought shirts they thought looked cool not giving a second thought to the message the piece of clothing was trying to send. She hated those people and weirdly, she found herself wishing he wasn't one of them.

He didn't say anything more and she took it as a chance to observe her rescuer. It stroke her from nowhere that this man, he looked insanely beautiful just standing there, looking at her. If you didn't count the clothing, there was something very unusual about him that she couldn't quite pinpoint and didn't even try to. Well, he did have the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen; they were turquoise. At least that was how she would've described them if someone had asked. His eyes had been bordered with black eyeliner, which looked weird to her, but she didn't mention it. She had never been one to crush on guys wearing make-up, but she had to admit, it looked rather hot on him, actually. Then there was his hair. Or the lack of it, as she would've put it. His hair was so short it almost looked like he was bald, but she liked it.

She liked everything about him. What's up with you? It just wasn't natural and she knew it.

He didn't seem to mind her eyes roaming around his body. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it. After a while though, he broke the silence once again. "You're awfully quiet today," he started, "Weird, really. You weren't this shy just a few days ago."

A few days ago? Rhian frowned looking away from the man. Usually she would have never taken her eyes off of a possible enemy, but strangely, she felt… she felt safe. She felt warm, which she usually never did. She never felt safe. Even when she had been a little girl, even when she had had her father there to protect her, she had never felt safe. Safety was nothing but an illusion and she was very well aware of that.

Shit. What had happened a few days ago? Why couldn't she remember? What the fuck was going on?

This, she figured, must be the most bizarre moment of my life.

"Get up."

She obeyed hesitating, not knowing what else to do. At least she attempted to, but when she tried to gathered her bones up from the ground to stand on her own two feet, her body seemed to disagree. Her knees gave in and she fell back on the ground. Hard.

He hadn't tried to catch her, but he did offer her a helping hand now that she was sitting on the ground, trying not to think of the bruise her ass would have tomorrow. "You're weak," he said as she extended her own hand to take his, "You need to get fed."

She didn't know what that meant exactly, but she didn't ask either. As if she had weighted nothing, he pulled her up again but didn't let go of her hand as she had thought he would. The fingers intertwined with hers so firmly that she thought it best not to try and remove her hand from his. She had once read that you never told a crazy person he or she was crazy or annoy them anyway, and she was sure the method could be used here too. She half expected he'd start walking and she was prepared to follow, but he didn't move anywhere and so the two just stood there facing each other.

He tilted his head, observing her face. He brought his free hand to touch the side of her face and trailed a stain of dirt on her cheek with his finger. It was such a gentle touch that she could hardly keep herself from closing her eyes and moaning. She swallowed, hard, trying to focus on something else but his hypnotizing eyes. Why did she enjoy his touch like this?

"You really don't remember what happened, do you?"

Rhian shook her head weakly. No matter how she tried to organize her thoughts and memories, they all seemed to slip away. Yesterday was nothing but a blur in her mind.

"What's the last thing you remember?" He asked then. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words refused to come out. She didn't know; what was the last thing she remembered? She… she really wasn't sure. She had been working, perhaps… just the thought of her assumed work made her blush in shame and look away. He, however, refused to let go of her gaze and calmly grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him.

Eyes on me, his mind screamed words she couldn't hear, always on me.

"What is the last thing you remember, Rhian?" He demanded again and her whole body knew he wanted an answer and that she would have to give it. That she'd get hurt if she didn't. That she'd regret.

"I don't know… I don't remember," she whispered trying to squirm her chin out of his grip. She did succeed, but only because his fingers moved to push a lock of blond hair from her face before they forcefully grabbed her chin again. He knew it hurt her, but the knowledge only pleased him. When the brown eyes met the turquoise ones, she closed her eyes in protest. He didn't like it, but he didn't tell her to open her eyes. Later. He'd do it later.

"That's not what I asked, Rhian. What do you remember?"

"I was working…" she whispered quietly. She didn't want to say it, but she had to. He gave her no other options. "With the other girls… we waited."

"Yes," he confirmed with a faint smile on his lips. It was almost insane how he enjoyed watching her struggle like this. Funny thing was though, that it wasn't really a struggle against him, but against herself. Although he wasn't sure what had caused this weird inner struggle of hers or even what it was about, it was entertaining. Her eyes were still closed, but he could sense her uneasiness. It seemed her mind and body was responding to his presence and she didn't really like it.

"You were working. Standing there, waiting for some asshole to pull over and pick you up. Waiting to get fucked by some total stranger who could carry every fucking disease on this damned Earth. Waiting to get paid." His voice was so cold, so judging that she wanted to scream at him. She wanted to defend herself and tell him she had no choice. She only did it for the money. She was a human being for fuck's sake and she needed to eat!

Now she was starting to get angry. She had never felt the need to defend her actions no matter what they were, not to anyone! Fuck, he had no rights to make her feel like this!

"And what happened then, Rhian? What happened then?" He pulled her closer, so close that she could almost feel his nose touching her skin. The hand that had been holding hers just a moment ago wrapped itself around her waist making sure she couldn't move and the grip on her chin got tighter. She recognized the gesture; he was telling her to open her eyes. It felt familiar somehow and she couldn't tell why.

"I don't know!" she spat angrily through gritted teeth. Then, to his surprise, she did the unexpected; she blinked her eyes open, grabbed his hand and forced his fingers to leave her chin. She smacked her hands against his chest and pushed him with all the force she could gather. It wasn't much, though and he, of course, didn't even budge. But the fact she had tried it, excited him even more. Oh, his little slayer, she was spirited one.

He knew she was a slayer. The kind that possessed a great deal of potential to be a great one; strong one. He had tasted it in her blood… and nothing, absolutely nothing had never tasted better. Maybe that was why he had come back for her even after he had decided he wouldn't. Maybe that was why he had sat there on her grave for hours and hours just listening, waiting.

"Maybe I should remind you then," he said finally. She saw him smirk and that was the first time she paid any attention to his teeth. They looked weird to her, but she had no time to figure out why because he gave her none.

She hadn't expect him to grab her hair and pull her head back; attack her neck like that nor had she expected to feel her skin being pierced painfully by his sharp teeth. And she for sure, had not expected what happened after that. She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, gasping, and her eyes fluttered shut.

The memories flooded back like a waterfall washing through. She remembered how the white limousine had pulled over, how the dark window had opened and how she had been asked to get in the car. She remembered she had thought about saying no simply because it was so strange to see a car like that there… but then her mind had stopped her. A car like that meant money. And money, that was what she was after.

"Me?" She had asked, surprised, and the voice… his voice had answered. Yes, you.

And so, Rhian had done as she was asked to.

She remembered how he had smelled so fresh, so different from the guys that usually picked her up and glad she had felt. She remembered how he had had those same clothes and how he had not said a word to her, not a single explanation as to why he was there and what he wanted. They always wanted something, they always had demands, fantasies to be fulfilled. But this one, the minute she had sat down and closed the door behind her, he had immediately pulled her on his lap and captured her lips in a crushing, bruising kiss. She had tasted the blood.

Apparently, so had he, for he had paused only to watch how the blood reached her chin before he licked it off.

"A slayer," she had heard him whisper in what seemed to be somewhat amazed tone, but she hadn't stopped to wonder what it meant. She had learnt not to ask. So, she had only continued the kiss while opening his belt. His cold hands had wandered around her hot body making her shiver and she remembered how heavenly it had felt. She had lost herself in his hands, she had…

Oh god, oh god. He hadn't even removed her clothes - or his. He had rolled her skirt up onto her waist, pushed her panties aside and lifted her up and... She could still remember exactly how he had felt against her, inside her… like he had belonged, like she had belonged.

Oh god, that wasn't supposed to happen! That was never supposed to happen. Ever.

Something had changed. Something was different. She was different, wasn't she? Her eyes blinked open. "We had sex," she stated, horrified… disgusted. He didn't like the tone of her voice and if he had had time, he would've corrected that little error. But he had none, as she kept talking. "We had sex in that fucking car," she screamed, "and then you bit me! You bit me right-"

"Here," he finished the sentence for her maliciously, licking the very spot where his red mark could be seen. He had bitten her again, she realized. He had, well, sucked her blood. Again! He had… the realization dawned upon her, but her mind couldn't accept it. Life is not a fairytale, Rhian.

"You-"

"I changed you, yes," he cut in, lips still against her neck. "I changed you and now you're mine."

"Yours?" She barked mockingly. Oh, not a chance. She would be no one's, especially not his and there was a reason for that. "I think not. You used me, bit me, made me drink your fucking blood, turned me into some goddamn…. Creature… and then! THEN, you threw me out of a moving car! Fuck you!" she yelled, "You didn't even pay, asshole!"

He chuckled both at the image her words brought to his mind and the way she yelled. He'd have so much fun with her, so much fun. Rhian had such a temper… Ah, yes, that he had done and it must have hurt like hell too, especially when she had been kicked out of the car and slammed against the asphalt… but she was obviously missing the point. "Yes, well, I did what I had to. They needed to declare you dead, not missing. But I came back for you, my little slayer."

She couldn't believe her ears. Unbelievable, fucking unbelievable. Rhian was not only stunned, but insulted and extremely furious too... still, she couldn't bring herself to push him away. She wanted to, but couldn't and so, her hands were still on his shoulders, not that she would've noticed it or the fact her nails were, even through the shirt, pretty painfully digging into his flesh. She was angry, because she needed him. Because she wanted him... and because he knew it. He knew it.

And that; that was the moment she had simply started to give up, bent to his will.

She would never be completely his, that much she had decided, but she knew that he had already taken something, a piece of her... and just because of that she would not be whole without him. Little girls dreamt of princes on white horses. She had once seen that same dream and now, now she was thinking that maybe; maybe this was her prince. Maybe the limousine had been his white horse. Life isn't a fairytale... No, life most definitely wasn't. It was painful, and it hurt, but maybe it had decided to pay her back... maybe it had decided to give her this. Why not take it?

Yeah, why not take it?

"That's right, my little slayer, just give up and be mine."

Give up... be yours? Slayer? He had called her that before, hadn't he? "Why do you call me that?" She asked calmly, not having the energy to fight anymore. Resting against his body, she wondered, why fight when she didn't really even want to? There was nothing worth fighting for in her life, but he could... maybe he could change that.

"I can give you the whole world," he said as if he had been reading her mind through it all, "all you have to do is accept it, my little slayer."

"Why do you call me that?" she asked again, "Who are you?"

He only smiled against her neck. He'd tell her. But not yet. Later. Much... much later.

-fin