| Temerity |
[31 Jan 2008|01:45pm] |
A moment that took weeks to prepare for, seemingly over in an instant.
Samantha felt a pang of regret as she stood before 14 slaughtered bodies, blood strewn about the sacrificial chamber. Tiny body parts littered the floor, the remains of children whose names the fallen Slayer didn’t even know. Samantha didn’t feel sorry for killing them – no, she was just sorry it was over as soon as it was.
They took her son away, then arrested her. So in one fleeting moment, the Slayer lost both her family and her job, leaving her with nothing. So when Atia broke her out of prison, with the caveat that Samantha sacrifice the children in order to find out who framed her, the Slayer didn’t think twice before accepting. The fact that Atia was a being of pure corruption didn’t matter; even at this moment, Samantha felt the darkness coarse through her veins.
And like the human muscle digesting in her gut, it made the Slayer feel good.
“I would deliver the remains to their parents if I could,” the Slayer whispered. “Just to see the light of hope die from their eyes once they saw their offspring reduced to a lifeless puddle.”
( Aftermath )
( The other? )
The Slayer bowed her head – not in shame, but out of respect for the twisted royalty standing before her. Samantha’s choices since her calling were always subject to question, and the Slayer herself often wondered if she’s erred in allying with Wolfram & Hart or giving up her son. But thanks to Atia, Samantha felt as if she’d finally found herself.
It wasn’t pretty, but there it was.
“Her remains shall cake in my fingernails,” Samantha offered with one final bow. “I will not disappoint Leviathan.”
And with that, the Slayer was gone.
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| The Secret History |
[31 Jan 2008|08:04pm] |
The sun was a fiery ball in a cloudless blue sky, and the woman stumble-staggering her way across the sandy expanse of land tripped on a stone and went sprawling into the dirt, scraping the skin off her legs and drawing blood. She lay there for a long few minutes before rolling over onto her back, licking her dry lips with a drier tongue.
"Get up." She was saying it to herself, but her muscles refused to work. She had no energy left. It had been days since she fled the villa, and although she could no longer hear the horses or feel the vibrations of their hoofbeats through the earth, she knew they couldn't be far behind. "Get up. Get up!"
( Long Ago and Far Away )
The cloud eventually moved on, and the stars peeked out of the more natural darkness, twinkling down on the inert figure still lying on the rock. Atia's chest hitched once, then a second time, as if a great bubble of air had become trapped within her rib cage. When she finally sat up, she coughed explosively, and black blood leaked out of the corners of her mouth and spattered onto her tunic. The back of her hand wiped across her lips.
Not tired now, oh my, not at all. And there was so very much to be done. But first...she had to collect her axe.
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