Before the day is done Who: Tanith When: Autumn of 1995 Where: Middle of nowhere, bumfuck Michigan thumb-town WARNINGS: NSFW and possible triggers
The summer had ended with a draught, and the area was having one of the driest fall seasons on record. When Tanith had seen the venue for the night, she had thought maybe it would work in her favor. Tonight the ‘pit’ was a large field. But on closer inspection, it was all dead. This land hadn’t seen water in a long time.
In the few months that her uncle had been entering her in the pit-fights, Tanith had done well. She had earned a reputation as a particularly ruthless girl who never shied away from fighting dirty – or from using her powers. Her powers usually gave her the edge. They wouldn’t tonight.
Well before the first fight she was already dripping with sweat. Her heart was pounding; the nerves were inevitable but she always hid them as well as she could. She’d been doing this for three months. She hadn’t lost yet. She’d had a hand in the death of at least two dozen other girls her age. In the beginning she lost a lot of sleep over that. She would repeat her new mantra over and over like a prayer. Better you than me. Better them than me. Better anyone than me. She had to keep going. She had to survive. She had to get away from this man, this place, and grow strong. And then she had to find a way to kill him.
These girls were going to die whether or not Tanith fought. She did her best to hurt them as bad as she could. Maybe their deaths would be quicker that way. Once or twice she’d killed her opponent before she’d been handed over to the vampires. If she ever lost, that was the way she wanted to go. Quick and clean.
Tanith sat in the back of her uncle’s van, waiting for the time when she would be called. She hated the waiting. She just wanted to get it over with. At least the routine feedings had stopped since she’d started fighting for them. They wanted her strong for the fights. They wanted her to make them money. That was a step up in her life.
Somewhere in the field she could hear her uncle shouting. Frowning, the thirteen-year-old blond who was still too skinny for her height leaned forward and pushed the window open a crack to try and hear it. She only got bits and pieces. ‘Cheating.’ ‘Unfair advantage.’ ‘Not part of the deal.’ None of these things were comforting. It wouldn’t have been so bad if they were talking about her, but she knew they weren’t.
For the millionth time that day, Tanith thought about trying to escape. Not possible, she reminded herself. Not here. Not with two dozen vampires on the scene to scent you out. Later. It was always later. Someday. Someday she’d be strong enough, fast enough, smart enough. And someday she’d get away. Not today. Just… later.
Tanith took a deep breath and ducked down, putting her head between her knees. Later. Someday. Right now she just need to breathe. In a little bit she just needed to win. She’d worry about tomorrow when it came. If it came.
An hour later her uncle yanked the sliding side door of the van open. Tanith could read her odds in his face. “What is it?” she asked.
“You’re going against fire.”
And Tanith knew this was probably it. No laters. No tomorrows. No somedays. She was just going to die today. She sighed, and told herself she could do this. One way or another, at least it’d be over. Just make it clean, she begged to the God she didn’t believe in anymore. Make it fast.
But it wasn’t clean. It wasn’t fast. Tanith was good in this world, but the fire elemental was better. The fire elemental seemed to like it. There was no way for Tanith to fight off the endless fiery onslaughts. When it wasn’t fire, burning off her clothing and hair and teasing her skin with all-over agony, it was punches. Burning a small area just to slap at it a moment later. Tanith had screamed herself hoarse within minutes. In those moments all Tanith wanted in the world was to call out to water, and to feel the comfort of her element. But she couldn’t. Not here. She tried to use blood magic, but her voice was incapable of forcing out the words. Finally Tanith stopped even attempting to fight. She writhed in agony and screamed for something, and in the end she begged for death. And the vampires were willing to give it to her. She had no recollection of when the fight was declared over, but suddenly a dozen pairs of hands were upon her. Pawing over her and probing at her, and then came the biting. Tanith cried when she had the strength to. But as the blood left her body, strength finally gave out. Everything gave out.
A low concrete ceiling. Tanith stared at it for what may have even been hours, but she never really took it in. Where she was, what she was doing there, what she was looking at her… when had she woken, or that she even existed at all… these ideas were all far off. Awareness came to her slowly, but never extended to her body.
Somewhere, far off, her mind was beginning to wake. Was she dead? Was this death? Perhaps she was in the morgue. Tanith found that she was okay with this, even if she had always expected death to be quite different. She wanted to be dead.
She was aware of movement in the room (the tomb? The morgue?), but she couldn’t shift her head to see. She heard murmurings, but it might as well have been in a different language. Maybe it was in a different language.
Was this death? Paralyzed in your own body, but comfortable enough, an eternal witness to what happened around you? That was going to get dull once they put her in the coffin – or God forbid, cremated her. Tanith could imagine nothing worse. If they cremated her, would she feel it? Suddenly she was terrified, but still incapable of doing anything. Her heart wouldn’t even race. Was her heart beating at all? She wasn’t sure. No, it couldn’t be. Not if she was really dead.
But was she?
Her musings were cut short by the screaming. A little girl, begging for her life. Begging for her mother. Please, please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. I just want my mommy. I want my dog! Please, let me go!
And then Tanith saw Jack. He was standing over her with a knife. No, not a knife. The ceremonial dagger he used when… oh, no. Oh God, no. Tanith wanted to scream. She wanted to beg. But she couldn’t open her mouth. Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this. And then Jack outstretched his arms, revealing a dagger in each. He said the words. He plunged the right dagger into Tanith’s heart, and the left into that of the little girl. A quick jerk of removal, a few words said, and the daggers exchanged hands. Jack said the words as he held the dagger he’d used on the little girl above Tanith. As the blood began to drip over her, the world began to come back. Her wounds began to close. Her burns began to fade. When she was capable, Tanith curled into the fetal position, her back to the room. She didn’t’ want to see what had just happened.
“Why didn’t you just let me go?” she whispered.
“Too much invested in you,” Jack grunted. “You’re not going to get away from me that easily. Go clean up. You’re covered in blood and the stink of vampires. When you’re done, come down here and help me see to this mess.”
Tanith didn’t move. She felt overcome with her hatred. “No,” she finally said. “No, no, just… no. Go fuck yourself. You make me sick.” She felt the hard kick to her back, and it was enough to knock the wind out of her. She refused to cry out. She refused to move.
“Do you know what I’ll do to you if you disobey me again?”
Tanith snorted. “Nothing worse that can be done anymore. Do what you have to. I’m not helping you with this.”
“Ungrateful bitch.” Tanith could hear the sound of Jack undoing his belt, but she wouldn’t scream. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
Someday, though. Someday she would make him scream.