Who: Faith Lehane and her third 'ghost' What: The ante gets upped. When: December 19th 2006- after sunset Where: Faith's patrol route Rating: Mid-High for mentions of past torture Status: Complete as a narrative, open if someone wants to tag
Patrols were still needed. As much as Faith hated admitting it, with her nerves already shredded, the rest of LA life went on and that included a regular dose of vampire slaying. Besides, she at least attempted to reason with herself, it was possible that seriously kicking the asses of some bad guys would make her feel better. If only briefly.
It was with that in mind that she detoured slightly from her usual route, heading to the graveyard where she knew vampires sometimes liked to hang out. Why she didn't know, maybe to compare crypts or something weird like that, but the chances were she'd find some action.
She also desperately wanted to be out from the Hyperion, and away from her computer. Some place else than where she had been haunted two nights in a row and just away from messages that stung like a bitch. She honestly felt that if it hadn't been for Sam she would have gone crazy over the last couple of days, well crazier than she had been before. He had been a godsend ever since her mother had first turned up and taunted her, helping her feel that maybe she was able to handle things.
But that still left her with a certain type of itch, one that only kicking the ass of a vampire could scratch and it was that that drove her to her current position, sitting on the top of a crypt, drumming her feet against the stonework as her sharp eyes scanned the cemetery, wanting some kind of action.
"Looking for me?"
Faith froze as she recognized that drawling accent, bored and sarcastic sounding, with a hint of Japanese. She felt barely able to breathe as she slowly stood up and looked around, and saw the tall, thin vampire, long hair falling over his shoulders, watching her with that infuriating smirk.
Toru.
It had been almost a year since that unkillable vampire had kidnapped her and tortured her for two days without a break. When 'his lady' had torn her Slayer powers from her and he and Azula had cut her and burned her, over and over again until she had screamed and begged them to stop. The never ending, searing pain, more than she'd ever thought she could handle before.
"You're not real." She stated, her voice mostly steady even as her fear caught in the back of her throat. She could almost smell the stench of her own flash burning, taste her blood on her tongue.
"Am I not?" Toru glanced down, patting his body up and down before he smiled more widely, showing bloody gaps in his mouth where his canine fangs had been. Almost instinctively, Faith's hand went to the fang she always wore around her neck, his, a gift from Peter after Toru's death. The vampire laughed mockingly at the gesture, his head tilted to one side as he watched her with a fake sympathy. "Well, see that's really a matter of opinion. I am dead, we both know that. But since when did life or death define reality?" Just as she remembered him doing, he turned into mist, though his eyes, those piercing yellow eyes remained visible before he reformed just in front of her. "In this world, Slayer dear, reality is always fluid."
"I don't need some kind of twisted philosophy lesson from a dead vampire," she spat back, trembling slightly. The pain, the fear, the helplessness, all of it was coming back to her in waves, her power had been stripped away in every sense of the word. And now the memories were choking, clawing her down.
"You know, technically, we're all dead vampires, even those two poser boys you lot have as Champions," Toru pointed out, rolling his eyes with irritation clear in his face. "But whatever, if you want to make ignorant statements, be my guest. Just tell me one thing, playtoy," he leaned in close. "Does your blood still taste so sweet?"
He reached out as if to brush his fingers down her cheek. Faith jumped with shock as she felt an icy tingle, like frozen electricity over her skin at the faint contact. Startled and terrified, she took a step back, forgetting where she was for a moment.
It wasn't a long fall, from the top of the crypt, though her breath was knocked out of her as she hit the ground, and she saw stars for a long moment before she blinked them away. As she looked up, she could still see him there, his leather coat catching the wind as he watched her, still smirking, waving mockingly at her before he slowly faded away.
Faith felt barely able to move, more from shock that the pain from the fall. She remained sitting on the ground, brushing away the small trickle of blood that had started from a graze on the side of her head.