Who: Buffy Summers What: Just one of those short breaks between tortures When: Saturday evening Where: The werehouse demon!Faith had taken her Rating: PG-13 Status: Complete
They didn't come often, but every now and then the demon did leave, giving Buffy some time alone. As far as she could tell, this entire thing was a mix of a way for the demon to entertain herself, and to try and gather information. Weaknesses in the traps against demons, security codes, ways to break into the building, the layout, who in the building had power that was protecting it. All things that Faith might not know having not been inside. She was still strung up against the wall, most of her strength had left her a while ago, so she was only standing upward because she was forced to be the metal around her wrists.
Whatever the information was, Buffy wasn't cracking that easily. It had only been a day, but a day didn't mean anything, not in this world, not really. A lot of her first injuries had started to heal. The cuts, gashes and bruises on her face and body were all new. The thing about Slayers was, they healed. If they healed, they recovered faster, making torture more drawn out. It seemed that this demon had taken a lesson in Alastair's book, this was probably a lot like what the others had to have felt like when they were strung up with him, though probably less terrifying. This demon wasn't Alastair, not even close. And Buffy hadn't even had a chance to get to know him.
Jewel, as she called herself, seemed to like the idea Alastair had with slicing up the skin on people. It was mostly her stomach, some on her arms, but mostly her stomach. She'd slice away, and then step away long enough to let it stop bleeding, to clog, and then come back and add more on top. What Buffy's stomach had to look like, she didn't know. She hadn't looked, she didn't want to look.
Her lips were torn, swollen and red. That was Buffy's own doing. Refusing to give into the demon, she had bit down on her lips until they were torn and bleeding. She couldn't give in. There were people who Lilith probably didn't know everything about, she couldn't give them up. Buffy didn't know if the demon or Lilith already knew about the ordinary teenagers, or that one was pregnant, but she couldn't give them up. She wouldn't.
She'd continue to hold out, she had to. Because someone was coming. Xander was there. He'd make sure someone found her. Tara, Anya, Kendra, Vi, Andrew. They'd make sure someone found her. Maybe Spike would do, she wasn't sure about that anymore, but it was possible.
When she heard footsteps, glassy blue eyes peered up through matted-blond hair, parts stained red by her own blood. The bitch was coming back, it was about to start all over again.