Vengeance taken from the Latin vindicare, meaning, "to set free, claim, avenge." This word had no meaning to me before my seventeenth birthday. But, many words weren't familiar to me then, words like betrayal, torture and hate. Oh, yes, hate was unknown to me in my strange, teenaged years. They weren't the idyllic years most teenagers had, to say the least. No, my life changed when I turned fifteen and became a Slayer, the Chosen One, an empowered fighter supposed to fight the evil that lurked in the dark. No one had prepared me for the evil that walked in the daylight, wearing familiar faces.
It's said that humans weren't meant to wield vengeance's deadly blade. When everything and everyone I had ever believed in abandoned me, I left my humanity behind. My words sound cryptic, for this I ask forgiveness. Read my story and decide for yourself; though it will change nothing, except perhaps your perspective of the thin line between human and demon.
I didn't know which way to turn or what to think anymore. Kendra, the other Slayer, had arrived and handed me a blessed sword to use against Angelus. Some strange little man named Whistler showed up in Giles' apartment, telling me that I could only depend on myself and I had to know how to use the sword. As if that's a big problem, the pointy end goes into the evil vampire wearing Angel's face. Angel, I wondered where his soul went to when Angelus showed up? No, I couldn't think about that anymore, that's what got Jenny killed; not to mention the others that he and Dru feasted on every night since Angel died. That's right; Angel's dead and Angelus killed him.
A sense of peace settled over me as I finally accepted that the man that I loved was gone. I had loved him, no matter that he was a vampire, but the demon that now inhabited his body wasn't the same man. Angel had died on my seventeenth birthday after we made love. The only happy note about that night was that he left this Earth knowing love. Now, I have to lay his body to rest, so that his soul will know peace. Willow wanted to re-soul him. I told her that I don't want her to and prayed that she would listen. Whenever she or Xander got an idea, it was hard to change their minds. They were good friends, but sometimes not helping helped more.
While we went over last minute plans, a vampire rushed into the Library. "Angelus wants you to meet him where those children haunted that playground. You have ten minutes, Slayer." He ran out, knowing that he wasn't my target.
Sword in hand, I started toward the door. "Kendra, you stay here and protect Giles and the others. I'll go see what he wants. Be ready in case he's just trying to lure me out."
"Be careful, Buffy," Kendra said in her heavy Jamaican accent. She hurried to catch up with me, grabbing my arm. I stopped, turning to her and noticed a strange expression on her face. It wasn't fear or worry, more like regret. (If only I had paid more attention, ah but hindsight, it's always twenty-twenty.) "Take Mr. Pointy with you, he always brings me luck." She gave me a soft, tentative smile.
I took the prized stake, knowing how much it meant to her. "Thanks, Kendra. I'll give it back once Angelus is dust in the wind. Take care of them while I'm gone."
A shadow passed over her eyes as she nodded. "I will, I promise."
Her words sent a strange shiver down my spine. I had already wasted too much time and had to run to meet Angelus' deadline. I nodded to Kendra, racing out the door. Her words and actions flew from my mind as I tried to prepare myself for the coming confrontation.
When I arrived at the playground, no one was there. The shiver I had felt earlier grew into a sinking feeling in my stomach. Spinning on my heels, I raced back to the school, praying under my breath with each step I took. My hands hit the Library's doors and I stopped in my tracks.
The tables and bookshelves lay on their sides; books were everywhere, as if they had been used as projectiles. I moved forward carefully, lifting the bookshelves, hoping to find someone, anyone, alive underneath. There were only traces of a battle and blood. Footsteps echoed in the hallway behind me. Lowering the bookshelf in my hands, I hid.
Principle Snyder led two policemen into the room. "Look at this mess. I know that Summers girl is responsible. Well, what are you waiting for? Go and arrest her," he snipped at them.
"Sir, we can't arrest a student because you don't like them. We need proof that she's responsible for this vandalism," the officer answered patiently.
"What kind of policeman are you? I told you that she did it. All that girl does is cause trouble; mark my word somehow she's responsible. Who's going to clean up this mess?" They walked out, with Snyder still ranting about me and the other delinquents at the school.
I slid from my hiding place and quickly went out through the stacks. I had to get home and load up on weapons. Maybe I should swing by Giles' apartment to see if anyone made it out. No, Angelus wouldn't have left anyone behind; he's too thorough. The more time he had with them the longer he had to torture them.
My feet didn't seem to touch the ground as I raced home. I slammed open the door and took the stairs two at a time. My clothes were off before I crossed threshold of my bedroom. Slaying clothes came into my hands as if I had willed them there. I went into auto pilot as I pulled weapons from my chest and loaded them into a carryall. Standing up, I threw the bag over my shoulder, took a deep breath, and prepared to leave my room when my Mom entered.
"Just where do you think you're going, young lady?" She placed her arms across her chest, waiting for an answer.
"Mom, I have to go do something that's really important. I promise that I'll come back and tell you about it, but not now."
She blocked my way when I tried to walk by her. "Oh, no, you don't. You aren't going anywhere until you tell me exactly what's going on, and I mean all of it."
I knew the look that she was giving me. It was her version of Willow's resolve face. My shoulders sagged as I sighed, "Mom, I told you about this before, and you wouldn't believe me, please believe me now. I'm a Vampire Slayer. A really bad vampire took Willow, Xander and Giles, and if I don't go he'll kill them."
She grabbed my arms, holding them down around my waist when I tried to walk around her. "Oh, Buffy, I knew that you were having trouble in school, but I never thought that you'd revert back this far. Come in, Doctor," she called out to someone in the hall.
I pulled away from her, swinging around to see who was behind me. A blonde woman with bright, intelligent blue eyes stepped inside, giving Mom a sympathetic smile before turning to me. Mom couldn't see her eyes as she faced me, so she didn't see the fanatical light that entered them. Something wasn't right with this Doctor. "Mom, what're you doing? Why'd you call a doctor? There's nothing wrong with me. I have to leave. I'm sorry." I tried to gently shove my way through them, when I felt a needle prick my arm. "What? What did you do?" My arms and legs felt weak and heavy. I could hardly lift them.
"I gave you something to calm you down. You were getting agitated and I didn't want you to hurt yourself or anyone else. Your mother has concerns about your mental health, and I have to say that I agree with her. You're going to come and stay at my clinic where I'm going to help you realize that this world you've created isn't real." Maggie Walsh smiled at Mom as she took a firm hold of my swaying body.
"No, Mom, don't do this, please. You don't understand. It's real. I'm not lying to you. Giles and the others are in trouble." My voice sounded so distant, even to me. Then, she said those fateful words that started the Hell that became my life.
"Buffy, stop it. Giles and the others are downstairs. They came here looking for you after you left school with no explanation. Now, I've already packed your things and Dr. Walsh approved them. What you're wearing is fine, so come down and tell your friends good-bye. Hopefully, you'll be back in a few weeks, feeling better with no more nonsense making you act this way."
Mom took my other side, helping Dr. Walsh guide me down the stairs. My vision blurred and it took a concerted effort to focus. Whatever the good doctor had given me, it packed quite a wallop. There they stood, my friends, sister Slayer, and oh yes, don't forget my Watcher. They looked up to see me being practically carried down the stairs and had the gall to appear worried. My body no longer worked, but my mind did. Angelus didn't set me up; they did, along with my Mother, although I couldn't really blame her. She didn't know the truth. They, however, did.
"Please leave." My words came out slurred, no doubt from the drugs. My mother softly clucked at my rudeness. Dr. Walsh swallowed a chuckle. Yes, she was definitely evil.
"Buffy, I had no choice, my superiors wanted to send you to a special school regarding your behavior. I heard about Dr. Walsh and asked perhaps if she wouldn't take you on as an alternative. Your friends agreed to help me once they understood the consequences. Kendra will stay while you're away, and you'll return in no time."
"There's always a choice. You've made yours and will have to live with it. Just remember that what goes around comes around."
"Uh, Buffster, you know that we're still your friends, right? The three amigos," Xander asked.
He gave me that same, stupid smile while I stood there, weak as a kitten, about to be hauled off to an institution. I tried to hurl myself down the stairs at him; unfortunately, Dr. Walsh had very strong hands. I ended up flopping into the guardrail. It was worth it, though, just to watch Xander gap up at me with a comical fish-face.
"Get out, get out," I screamed, my voice growing in tempo as I drew in air faster and faster. The last thing I remembered was their shocked faces, then nothing.
I woke up to white walls and bright lights, which had my eyes watering from the glare. Lifting my hand to shade them, I found myself in a sterile room that resembled a fishbowl, with a glass wall and people staring in at the resident fish - me. They lined up watching me as if I were the zoo's newest exhibit. I counted six, and standing proudly at the center was none other than Dr. Maggie Walsh, head bitch. She gave me an evil smile that did nothing to put me at ease, which my guess was exactly her intention.
She swiped a card to open the glass door and entered the room, followed by an older man in a tweed suit. This man had Council written on him from the top of his gray, balding head to the bottom of his four hundred dollar shoes.
"Good evening, Miss Summers. I see that you've finally decided to wake up." Dr. Walsh leaned over to grab my wrist, taking my pulse. She wrote her findings down on the clipboard she carried. "This esteemed gentleman is Mr. Quentin Travers, the Head of the Watcher's Council. I guess you could say he's our boss." Her blue eyes twinkled with a sinister mischief as she delivered that line. She watched for my reaction and I was too naïve to know not to show any.
My breath hitched in my throat as I realized the implication. The set up was bigger than I had believed. Giles thought he had kept me out of the Council's reach, instead he handed me over to them on a silver platter. They wanted me here and knew that if my Watcher saw this as the lesser of two evils, he would choose it for me. Why would he think that placing a Slayer in an institution was a good thing? What exactly did Maggie Walsh do here? I had a bad feeling that I when I found out I wasn't going to like it, not even one little bit.
"Miss Summers, your duties as a Slayer are no longer needed by the Council; however, your services are still required. Since you're unable to perform said duties regarding the removal of Angelus and his childer, you'll provide much needed data to this project. You're the property of the Council until your death, your final death." He didn't bother to look at me while he spoke and when he finished, he simply turned and left the room.
"What did he mean my final death?" I asked stupidly. (If I could go back, I think I would slap my own face.)
She gave me another smile, which I would soon learn to hate. "You'll learn soon enough. Today, you can rest. We start work tomorrow. You should take that rest while you can, not sure when you'll get it again."
Maggie Walsh was many things, a liar she was not. The days and nights became endless rounds of tests she liked to call them. I called them torture. The first day, I learned that the ultimate goal was to activate more Slayers by killing me. Maggie decided to recreate my first death, with the exception of the Master's bite. Young men dressed like soldiers held my head under water until my heart stopped. She drowned me, bringing me back to life with CPR. My throat burned from the water that I choked up as I gasped for air. Maggie rushed from the room only to return moments later with a frown on her face.
"Perhaps, she needs to stay dead longer. Let's try this one more time. Soldiers," she barked the order at the men, who immediately grabbed my arms, dragging me back toward the water tank.
I struggled, pulling as hard as I could, knowing how futile it was, but I couldn't help it. "It won't work. Don't you get it, one activation per Slayer?" The soldiers' hands pressed into my flesh until I felt their imprint bruise the skin. My strength hadn't returned and I wondered if it ever would. Even as this thought skittered across my mind, that same strange rush I felt as I went to kill the Master came over me. The hair on my neck stood on end; goose bumps raced over my skin as the power surged inside my body. It reinforced it, giving even more strength to the tensile muscles and bones.
My head fell to my chest as I allowed my body to go limp, catching the soldiers off guard; they almost dropped me and scrambled to grab me before I hit the floor. That's when I went into action. Squatting low and using the floor as a springboard, I pushed off, coming straight up into a full out splits. It caught both men directly under the chin, knocking their heads and them backward. I threw my hands up and forward, pulling my upper body down into a forward tuck while I kicked my feet up and over my head. I continued into a forward layout, which I followed with several full roundups that ended at the door. Maggie stood between freedom and me. Her mouth gaped open and I quickly closed it for her with a hard punch in the jaw. She went down - hard. Have to say, it was the first time I had smiled in days. I tore the door open and ran for it.
Unfortunately, I didn't get far. The place they brought me to was a labyrinth of hallways and bright lights. I got through three, maybe four, when loud sirens went off and soldiers with guns filled every hallway. The last one I ran down scared me more than the soldiers following me did. In rooms much smaller than mine, I saw vampires, a werewolf and other demons that I couldn't name. They howled and banged on the glass as I ran by. The scariest part was that they begged me to kill them, to set them free. Fear, real fear, darker than any I had ever known before settled deep in my gut. Sweat broke out on my brow and between my shoulders. If the demons I fought wanted me to kill them to escape this place, what did that mean for me?
Too late, I realized my mistake. I left myself with nowhere to run and little room to fight. The soldiers came at me with their guns pointed and ready to fire. They aimed them with their fingers poised on the trigger. The commander stepped away from the others, placing his palms up, in a calming gesture. He had a farmer boy look about him, with an honest face, blue eyes and a wide smile.
"Calm down, we aren't going to hurt you. We just have to take you back to your room. Everyone here has to obey orders. The Council gives you your orders, and Dr. Walsh gives us ours. That's just the way it is. You understand, don't you? You don't want to cause any problems. People get hurt that way, and I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt," he said in a soft voice.
He walked toward me slowly, as if I was a wild animal. I guess from his point of view, I was. He stepped closer and I grabbed him, spinning him back around with my hand at his throat. I pressed my thumb against his carotid artery while my forefinger pinched into the back of his neck. With the lightest pressure, I could sever his jugular before his team could reach him; from how still his body went, he understood this. He quickly motioned for them to stand down.
"Tell them to leave and I'll let you go."
"I can't do that."
I increased the pressure on his neck. His heartbeat increased under my thumb. I had already noticed that it had a strange rhythm, now it raced along, sounding ready to pop straight from his chest. I didn't want to hurt him, but would if left with no other choice. He chose this job and went along with what went on here. I only wanted to leave. The only thing I had learned that day was that I had to stop feeling. While I listened to his heart race and worried over hurting him, he stabbed my leg with a syringe and my hard won strength was no more.
Maggie learned her lesson and never underestimated me again. She told the Council the disappointing news that I couldn't activate any more Slayers. They handed me over to her with blank check approval to do with me as she pleased. They had one caveat; I could never leave this place, unless it was in a body bag. She never tired of telling me this. After a particularly grueling test, she'd stroke my hair then whisper in my ear that she'd never tire of her blank check.
The days melted together and I had no way of telling one from the other. The lights never dimmed in my bright, white Hell. They let me sleep an hour, two, or a day. My body functioned by rote. I ate, walked, ran, fought, died, returned, bled, only to repeat. Every soldier kept a loaded gun with the ever-hateful drug at his side. Maggie performed her special tests first with the drug, then without. She took great joy in comparing the results. She analyzed my blood, bone marrow, spinal fluid and every other conceivable sample, even the fluid from my eyes. She wanted to create a Slayer using my DNA, since my death didn't do the trick.
That's when the girls arrived. Young girls ranging in age from twelve to fifteen. They kept their eyes glued to the floor and obeyed every command given by the hard-faced men that stood beside them. Watchers. The thrice-damned Council gathered Potentials for Maggie to use as test subjects.
The oldest Watcher stepped forward, dragging his Potential by the arm. He pulled her up to the table where I lay after a particularly brutal test day. The poor girl's eyes grew wide with fear. "See this pathetic creature. This is what happens to Slayers that don't fulfill their duty to the Council. She had the potential to become a great Slayer, but she forgot her place and her duty. Learn from her mistakes. Dr. Walsh is going to run some tests while you are here. The Council expects you to obey her as if she were your Watcher. We will receive daily reports on your progress; don't disappoint us, girls." He allowed his words to hang heavy in the air, before waving a hand toward me. "You can see what happens when we are disappointed."
The youngest girl, barely twelve years old, bit her lower lip as she tried not to cry. Her Watcher gave her a hard look before he left without a word. The other Watchers left after exchanging pleasantries with Maggie. I lay there, never feeling more helpless than at that moment. These were my sisters, the ones that I'm supposed to protect from the true monsters - Maggie and the Council. Yet, I lay here, a broken symbol of what they would become should they happen to stray from the path chosen for them. Anger, hot and heavy, surged through my body from deep within my soul. I knew why Maggie changed the routine today. Today's testing was more brutal than it had ever been in the past however long I'd been here. It also wasn't a drug day. She had drugged me last time. She reentered the room, giving me that knowing smile, the one I hated almost as much as I hated her, almost.
"Girls, please come with me and I'll show you to your rooms. I'm sure that you'll find them comfortable. Don't worry, everything will turn out fine. You'll feel better than ever by the time your Watchers return, and they'll be so proud of you."
I heard her saccharine sweet voice as she went down the hall, cajoling the Potentials to do what she wanted. The anger continued to grow and build until I thought my head might explode. I felt it then. It was small, but it was there. That spark, that rush, there just beneath the surface, waiting for me to call it forward, to release it. It hungered for release as much as I did. I pulled against the restraints and felt them give just a little. Lying back down, I closed my eyes to think about what I had learned.
Maggie returned to gloat about the girls. I tuned her out, much as I always did. She noticed that I wasn't listening and called the guards to take me back to my room.
I heard them that night, crying in their rooms. They were prisoners, the same as me. The anger returned, growing brighter, louder in my head. It flushed the remaining drugs from my system.
Sitting up in bed, I closed my ears to the sounds around me. The drugs stopped working when they revived me and when I got angry enough to override anything else. What took over? What happened to fight the drugs? Is it the Slayer, me or us working together? Think, damn it, there has to be a way to use this. I wanted to pace my room to help me think, but knew it would draw too much attention.
My Slayer side heals my injuries, and being a natural predator would it eventually start trying to fight the drugs the same way it fights a demon? I wonder if it's trying to up my immune system, and my anger trigger it to work faster. The drugs don't seem to last as long. Maggie hasn't noticed, then again, there really isn't a reason that she should. How long will it take for me to become immune? Will I last that long? Will the girls? More importantly, will Maggie's latest scheme work? Can she turn them into Slayers using my DNA? What will that mean?
I watched the youngest, because it was easiest. She became my lodestone, my focus. I hoped to, at the very least, live long enough to rescue her and myself. This was my last lesson to learn, one that Maggie burned into my memory. There was no room for emotional links. The mission must come first.
Her name was Andrea. She had large brown eyes that took up most of her small face. The Potentials guarded her from the unwanted advances the soldiers gave the girls late at night. Their muffled whimpers echoed down the hallways adjacent to my room.
Maggie had to know what her boys were doing. She knew everything that went on here, nothing occurred without her blessing. I watched her send specific soldiers after certain girls. The girls returned with terror written across their faces. Yes, Maggie knew what her boys did in the dark to these helpless little girls, girls taken from their parents and brought up by the Council. They knew no other life, except to obey.
The girls didn't fare well over the weeks and months. They received daily doses from Maggie, the wonder elixir she had created from me. Then, she would force them to fight each other, the soldiers, me, the vampires and demons. Within the first few months, two girls died. Maggie took her anger out on me, taking even more samples. She kept repeating that I was the key. The cycle restarted numerous times, sometimes with the same results or slightly different ones.
Amid these horrible conditions, the one torture I hadn't faced decided to show itself. I had slept for about an hour when I heard the keycard slide through the automatic lock. Strangely, only one set of footsteps neared my bed. I peaked out through my eyelashes to find the Commander's hand stretching toward my mouth.
My hands automatically pushed his away as I scooted to the bed's farthest corner. "Go away. You're not supposed to be here," I hissed at him angrily. The hate I felt for him showed in my eyes. My Mom used to tell me that when I got angry they flared a deep green. I imagined that they were blazing the deepest, darkest green about now.
"Aw, don't be that way, Buffy. You're bound to be lonely. I know that I am. We hardly ever get to leave here and you haven't had any manly attention in, what is it now?" He stopped, cocking his head to the side, while he added the time. "Must be going on about, what, two years? Can't tell me that a girl with a body like yours doesn't have wants that need filling." He gave me a cocky smile. "I'm just the man to do it."
He grabbed my ankle, pulling me across the bed toward him. I kicked out at him, catching him in the gut. He doubled over with a loud 'oomph' before standing back up with a hard glint in his eyes. His large hands clamped around my ankles, then he knocked them together. I saw stars when the fragile anklebones cracked against each other. Still, I pulled and kicked, trying to get my feet free. He knew that the drugs remained in my system and would do so for several more hours, or so he thought.
I felt him tear away my flimsy pants and top. He roughly worked to get his pants off, before entering me with the finesse of a goat. It hurt more than I thought it would, but I refused to cry. I wouldn't give him or Maggie the satisfaction. I turned toward the ceiling camera and gave Maggie back her own malicious smile. I knew that I'd pay for it. It didn't matter, because I had decided at the moment that I'd avenge myself and the others for what they'd done to us.
Vengeance, it rolled off the tongue. There were so many words for it. Avenge. Revenge. Blood Feud. Make Right. Vindicate. Revenge. Vendetta. They all came back to the same thing. The guilty would pay for their crimes, and I swore that I would be the one that made that so.
Three horrible years passed, each worse than the one prior. I kept time by watching the youngest girl as she aged. Maggie recorded every change that occurred in the Potentials' bodies, both normal and abnormal. From the original ten, two had survived. The drugs no longer affected me, and my Slayer strength had increased each time they revived me, which by my count was fifteen. Why didn't I leave you ask? The answer lay in the question.
I was held prisoner for five years. Five years where my youth withered as they stripped away my dignity and humanity, suffering tortures unimaginable to the human mind, one with a conscience anyway. Yet, I found myself unable to leave. The reason simple - the two remaining girls. They not only had survived the testing, they now held within their young bodies my DNA. Did this not in some way make them mine? We were sisters through our chosen fates and through the horrors that one evil mind created, but were we not more than that? Yes, I could have escaped long ago were it not for them. I had to find a way that allowed me to leave with them.
That's when my time ran out and I knew that I would never see my girls again. Through a strange string of events, Maggie stumbled onto a new drug, from which my DNA was the base. It provided a compatible reciprocate with additional strength, speed and stamina. It didn't create a Slayer. It created a Super Soldier, with above normal human levels.
I watched my girls easily dispatch the soldiers, taking great pleasure in returning the pain they had received at their hands. When Maggie ordered them to stop, and they didn't comply in a timely manner, she simply pushed a button. The girls went to their knees, screaming, with their hands cradling their heads.
Maggie turned to me with that smile. "I've placed a behavior chip in their brains. If they disobey a direct order from their commanding officer, this button sends a pulse that's quite painful. If they ever try to run away, the chip will explode. It has to remain within a specific distance from the controls, which only their Handler knows. Pretty neat, huh? The Council wishes that they had thought of such a device long ago. Just think, if they had, we would've never met."
"Who would you've found to torture then, Mags?" I asked in a bored voice, which always got her pissed.
"Go back to your room, you need to rest. Now, that we know the right compound, we're going into mass production, and you, my little blank check, are the prime source. I need you at maximum output to generate all those lovely little cells for us."
I carefully thought over what I was about to do. Maggie meant to turn my girls into mindless drones. I couldn't take them with me and I wouldn't allow them to live like that. When someone watched your every waking minute, you came to know their patterns. Maggie watched me for an hour after I returned to my cell, then each night before she went to bed, as if she needed the reassurance I was there. Her nightly checkup varied. A guard always followed within the amount of time it took me to count to two hundred.
Tonight, she went to bed early, no doubt to dream about her success. I thanked her for helpfulness as the guard arrived right on time. I lay crumpled near the door as if I had crawled there. He immediately opened the door, shaking my shoulder to get a response. "Hey, are you okay?" His hand rested on the gun with the drug, ready to shoot if necessary. My hands slipped around his neck before he could react to quickly and quietly break his neck. I watched the hallway for several long minutes to see if anyone had heard us. No one came to his aid. Standing, I picked him up and laid him on my bed. I stripped his of clothes, happy to see that he was one of the smaller guards; though small was relative, his clothes still hung on me. They were still better than what I wore here, which would immediately identify me as a patient to the outside world. I took what money I found, a knife, the gun with the drugs, a tazer and another gun hidden in his boot. Wonder if Maggie knew that her soldiers were carrying concealed? I used the vest and hat to hide my identity the best I could and gathered the card key.
Stepping into the hallway for the first time on my own felt strange. I hoped that I could find the girls quickly and that they would understand what I had to do. Luck stayed with me. The girls' rooms were around the corner and down a long hallway from mine. Closing my eyes and listening to my senses, I found that I could feel them, the same way that I had felt Kendra. That didn't help make it any easier to help me do what came next. Using the key, I opened the first door. I found the little one, Andrea. Her large, doe eyes stared up at me and she smiled. Somehow, I felt that she knew why I was there. I walked forward to sit on the bed. Gathering her close to my breast like the child I'll never have, I gently rocked her. "Close your eyes." Her head nodded against my chest. She let out a soft sigh, wrapping her arms around me with complete trust. My strong fingers cupped her small head, sinking into her hair, sliding along her jawline to cup her chin. The crack seemed so small. It should have sounded louder. Shouldn't taking a life make a loud, horrible noise? A life shouldn't ever go so quietly into the dark. I laid her still body down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. "Find peace, baby, you never deserved this. I'm sorry." I left as quietly as I had entered, moving to the next room. The other girl lay sleeping, tossing in her sleep. I knew what she dreamed about and put her nightmares to rest. I left the room with the knowledge that I had freed my girls, and had to do the same for myself.
Maggie thought herself so intelligent. She decided to play military games with me, setting up situations and timing me on how long it took for me to find a solution. It never took long. The Slayer was a hunter, a predator. No matter how you looked at it, I was created to hunt. Whether the situation involved humans or demons. I did best when the scenarios involved single targets, but all out war just meant more prey. I'm just lucky that she never decided to put a chip in my head. She must have thought she didn't need one since she had the drugs. It was obvious that she never understood what a Slayer was. Her bad was my good.
I knew that it wouldn't take long before they discovered either the girls or the guard. That was fine by me. I only needed to escape my room in order to escape the institute. My grades in school weren't great, but that had more to do with my schedule than my intelligence, not to mention this was the same as a military exercise. The only difference was that I was the prey and they were the hunters. I only had to flip the scenarios in my head.
Soldiers milled down the halls in small groups; those I hid from as I searched for a specific group. If I were trying to keep someone from escaping, I'd guard the exits. The groups worked their way in a distinct pattern inward, hoping to trap me like they had before. They never thought to look above them. I crawled along the ceiling, thankful to see that it was the reinforced, industrial type, rather than the normal tile that I could fall through. Careful to keep my knees on the sturdy metal girders, I moved at a quick pace while keeping their movements in sight through the air filters. I listened to them talk over their headsets, giving me much needed Intel.
The Commander's soft voice sounded from directly below me. "I'm sending Forest back to the main group. Everyone is to shoot on sight. Walsh wants her back in her cell within the hour. Make no contact; shoot on sight. Out."
I smiled. It wasn't a pretty sight I'm sure. My Slayer-side, my beast, and my human-side weren't too distinguishable after five years in this Hell. The only difference, I would guess, was the sorrow I felt at the loss of my girls. Other than that we were one and the same. Forest, the 2iC, or Second-in-Command, was a particularly harsh and hateful man. He considered anything non-human as evil. I fit perfectly into that category, so did my girls. Him, I would take great pleasure in killing before I left this place.
He took off jogging opposite the direction the others went. I followed him, his scent heavy in my nose. I had him and didn't plan to let him escape. Hunching my back, my speed increased as I loped along after him, knowing no one could hear me. The great soldier didn't notice anything. His focus simply on returning to his assigned position. He turned a corner and I turned a few seconds after him. There it was. My freedom stood only a few hundred yards straight ahead.
Funny, I never realized that I was underground. The large tunnel and cargo elevator cleared that up quite nicely. That must be why they kept the lights on all the time. They wanted to fool everyone, and if anyone happened to escape, the outside light would blind them, making it easier to catch once they were topside.
The 2iC joined six soldiers, each armed with their handy little drug guns. Scooting across the girders until I was directly behind them, I stopped to pull out my own weapons. I didn't know what the drugs would do to the soldiers other than hurt them when they hit. Checking the magazine, the gun held fifteen bullets, plus one in the chamber. Later, I would learn that it was a 40 Caliber, Military Issue Smith & Wesson, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I didn't want to use my bullets, I'd need the gun later and I wasn't sure when I'd get more bullets. The drug gun and knife would have to do. I secured the gun in my waistband, settled over a tile, then launched myself through it to land in a crouch directly behind the still talking soldiers.
They turned around, pulling their guns and aiming. I shot them before they fired a single bullet. The drugged darts worked as effectively on humans as they did on Slayers. I shot each man several times, just in case, purposefully hitting the 2iC and the squad leader only once. They struggled to their feet, charging me with murderous looks on their faces. Tossing the gun, I held the knife loosely while I waited for them. You may wonder why I didn't leave, why I waited for these men to attack me. No one could understand this unless they've walked in my shoes, or that of another prisoner of war, for that was what I had become. I didn't start this war, but I aimed to end it on my own terms. This was just the first skirmish, a small volley over the wall, you might say.
One tried to take out my legs while the other went for my head. I jumped up, coming down hard on the 2iC's back and heard a satisfying crack. My arm lashed out, cutting deeply into the other soldier's neck. He grabbed the gushing wound, his eyes wide with fear at his inevitable death. I patted his cheek and gave him a saucy smile, bending low to whisper. "It's different when a girl fights back, isn't it? Not so much fun when she doesn't lie there and cry while you rape her. Too bad I don't have the time to slice into other things." He paled nicely at my innuendo. I thought it more appropriate than a threat or a pun. I must have matured during my stay. Leaving him to drown in his own blood, I walked over to the 2iC, who was using his hands to crawl toward his headgear, several feet from him. I squatted down between him and his goal, reaching behind me to pick up the small object. "Is this what you want?" His eyes burned with hatred for me. I knew that feeling. I lived and breathed for the past five years. I was about to shove it back down this bigoted idiot's throat so that he could choke on it.
Unfortunately, my time had come to an end. The Commander's voice came over the radio, ordering his men to respond. I glared at the 2iC, before breaking his neck. I put the headset on and took off running for the elevator. The soldiers reported their positions, all too far away to stop me. The Commander barked at the main group to respond, and finally understood that he had a problem. He screamed for 'all' troops to report to the main area immediately, but they were too late. Much too late to stop me.
I disabled the elevator and phone lines when I reached the top. No one stopped me. Maggie, in her arrogance, had left the top unguarded. The elevator led to a loading dock adjacent to a real clinic. Carefully sneaking inside, I found the Employee Locker Room and helped myself to clothes and all the money that I could find. I even found a driver's license that looked enough like me to pass without anyone noticing. To make it harder for them to trace me, I took everyone's wallets and keys, figuring I could find a way to use them. I also took enough clothes of different types and styles that it would be difficult for the police to determine exactly what sex the thieves were. Pushing the alarm button, I found my get away car and headed away from my bright, white Hell. I knew that I had to quickly ditch the car that it would only lead to my getting caught.
Luck stayed on my side for a change. It turned out that the 'clinic' was twenty miles outside LA. I parked the car in a bad part of town, knowing that it wouldn't remain there long and headed for an old drug store. I had to change the way I looked, my hair, eyes, even my skin if possible, then I needed to leave LA. It was too close to the enemy. There was a little town outside LA called Van Nuys. It was a geekdom and the place where I could learn what I needed to know about the people I intended to wage war. I needed to learn what had happened while I was gone and Van Nuys was the perfect place to do it. No one would think to look for me there.
I purchased what I needed at several different local drug stores. I didn't want to call attention to the items. After checking into a cheap hotel, my make over started. My hair went from its natural dark blonde to a rich chestnut. I left the length, only giving myself some bangs to make it more modern. Colored contacts changed my hazel eyes to a brilliant blue, which went well with the new hair color. Now, for the hard part. My once year round tan had faded long ago. I could only hope that the fake tanning products had improved over the last five years. I applied it carefully. Waiting for it to dry, then applying it again and again until I had what looked like a deep natural tan. Wow, it looked good, even if it was only my own opinion. Pulling out new makeup, I carefully applied it, then gave myself a manicure and pedicure.
Searching through the clothes that I had stolen, I found a sundress that I could belt without it looking too stupid. Shoes were a problem, but I just stuffed toilet paper in the toes of some that weren't too bad and made due with what I had. It was time to go. I walked to the bus station and purchased a ticket to Van Nuys. Stopping at a several dumpsters along the way, I threw out my trash along with the wallets, keeping a purse that I thought suited me. The bus station had a store that sold bags. I purchased a small one and transferred what little I had into it.
Climbing aboard the bus, I said goodbye to Buffy and hello to Anne. I thought my middle name would do as an alias since it was a common name. The ride wasn't long and in a little over an hour or so I arrived at my new home. I walked around the town familiarizing myself with it. It wasn't what I was expecting. There were soldiers, real soldiers, everywhere. What had happened while I was away? Had the US gone to war?
I slipped into a Starbucks and ordered a mocha latte. A TV played the news and I watched it as I drank the heavenly drink. The reporter talked about a possible roll back on the national curfew time. US and Great Britain had agreed to extend their treaty into the year 2020. Military drafting had extended to every citizen of both countries for anyone between the ages of twelve and twenty-one. I almost spit my coffee out when I heard that. They couldn't be serious. They were drafting twelve-year-old children. What the hell was going on here? I had to find out and I had to find out fast. I walked up to the counter and gave the young man my best smile.
"Excuse me, I'm new in town and I need to find the public library. Could you tell me where it's located?"
He blushed sweetly, then wrote down the directions for me. No matter how much I still blamed him for what had happened to me, I had to thank Giles for teaching me how to research. The library was eerily empty. I guess that no one read anymore. Pulling books from the shelves, I settled down to read about the world that had passed my by. An elderly woman came by to ask if I needed any assistance. I thanked her kindly and told her that I was fine.
The words swam before my eyes. I had to read between the lines, but I understood what many people wouldn't. The United States Government had backed Maggie's work. Those soldiers were real. Maggie had tried to use the demons that I saw to create a super soldier, but it hadn't worked. That's when the Council decided that they would like to have more Slayers. Slayers that Maggie had promised they could control. Quinton Travers provided Maggie with the perfect test subject - me.
How did Maggie learn about vampires and demons? Why did Giles turn me over to her, knowing what he did? From the headlines, it sounded as if they identified them as hostiles and destroyed them in the name of national security. They used the nation's fear over 9/11 to hide what they were doing. Oh, my gosh, that's Dru. I turned the page, reading more about a female hostile that wreaked havoc on a clinic searching for her accomplice. My breath hitched as I read the article. It said the insane woman wore an explosive, which she detonated rather than be captured when she didn't find her lover. Spike, she was searching for Spike and they had killed her. That must mean that they have him somewhere. Do I care? I'm not sure, other than it would piss them off should I take him from them.
The librarian interrupted my musing to tell me that the Library was about to close. I thanked her and asked to check out several books. That's when I ran into a snag. I had no address and no identification. I explained that I had just arrived from being out of the country for several years, and hadn't found a permanent address or job, but planned to find both in the coming days. She gave me a sweet smile and took me home with her.
She told me on the short walk that her name was Emma St. John. She had been the town's librarian for the last twenty-four years. Smiling at me, she opened the door to a small ranch house where an old cat met her at the door.
"That's Mr. Chow, don't mind him. He's set in his ways, much like me, which is why we get along. I'm sure that he'll take to you. He's quite a ladies man." She gave me a naughty grin that lit up her face. I could see the beauty she must have been in her youth. "Now, come along, child, let's see about putting some dinner on the table for the three of us." She led the way into a warm kitchen filled with knick-knacks from days long past. Mr. Chow and I followed obediently, knowing an order when we heard one.
Emma cooked a simple meal of soup and sandwiches, which had never tasted better to me. We talked about nothing and everything. She invited me to rent her guest room and I agreed before I even realized it. You may think that I had foolishly let myself get taken in by an old woman's loneliness and my own need for companionship. It might be true, but it was more than that. I found in Emma a fount of information. She was more than a librarian I soon learned. This small, seemingly quiet, old woman waged a war of her own. She taught me things that I would have never learned anywhere else and I thanked whoever had made it possible for our paths to cross.
I slept that night in a real bed without screams echoing in the hallway or nightmares rushing up to capture me when I closed my eyes. Nights such as this were rare, and this one I cherished, thinking of it whenever I though about Emma.
She knew many people within Van Nuys, even with it filled with soldiers. Emma had friends in places that could provide me with much needed information and resources. I became a willing student, learning at the feet of anyone willing to teach me. I had identification proving that my name was Anne Brown, age 25, 5'3'', brown hair, blue eyes. The city of Van Nuys now had an assistant librarian for the first time in twenty-four years.
The job fit my needs perfectly. Information lay at my fingertips. Searches into any area coming from a librarian didn't raise flags from the government watchdogs. Librarians were carefully selected before employed, then kept until they retired or died. Van Nuys wasn't a large town and didn't hold anything that would raise any eyebrows. Soldiers got sent here to train before deployment to the larger cities.
I gathered information about the enemy, learning everything possible about Maggie Walsh, Quinton Travers, the Council, Giles, the soldiers and the military leaders in charge. I learned that the Commander had a name, Riley Finn. His known associates included a Graham Miller. A picture showed them standing at attention during some event. I added them to my list. Graham used his good looks to charm the girls, thinking it funny to fool them into believing that he cared before he raped them. Riley decided to bring his friend along on occasion when he visited, during our special time, as he liked to call it.
The information I learned during this time varied. Weapons stayed at the top. They included guns, hand and rifle, bombs, and my favorite, knives. Crossbows were great against vampires and some demons. They didn't work so good when your opponent had a gun.
The bombs I found as intricate as works of art. My mother taught me to appreciate art and music. I hadn't tried to find out whether she still lived in Sunnydale. I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. She knew how much it hurt me the first time they put me in an institution. It took a long time to repair the rift it had caused in our relationship. Even though she didn't know the truth the way the others did, she did know that I didn't have mental problems. She knew it before and she had known it then. Before she was trying to save her marriage, I don't know what her excuse was this time. No matter what it might be, it couldn't repair the damage done in the name of good intentions.
Emma came in looking pale. I helped her to her chair, rushing to the kitchen for water and her pills. She took then gratefully with shaking hands. Closing her eyes, I noticed how much she had aged over the last few months. Was my presence causing her to age more rapidly? Perhaps it was time for me to leave. She read my thoughts or my face. Taking my hands in her soft, age spotted ones, she told me what had happened.
"They announced over the news about a break-through drug that has created Super-Soldiers." She watched me with those wise eyes, knowing what it meant to me. Her hands tightened on mine. "You have to keep on the path, girl. You're the only one that can stop them. You're not ready yet, and if you go off half-cocked, it'll all be for nothing. You gave those girls everything. I'm about done for, this ole ticker's worn out. Left you the house, so's you don't have to leave before you're ready." She saw me open my mouth to protest. "Hush now. Can't stop old age, no matter how much some people try. I've had a good run. Lived long enough to see someone come along that aims to change things back to the way they should be. Don't need to stay around to see it done. I have faith in you, Anne. I know that you'll do it. You'll make them pay for what they did to you and so many others. I'm proud that I've helped in some small way. Help an old woman to bed, now and feed Mr. Chow before he gnaws off one of our toes."
I tucked her into bed as if she were a child. She pulled me down to place a soft kiss on my forehead and whispered goodnight. Mr. Chow wouldn't leave her bedside, no matter what I tried. I left him there, meowing softly. Emma died that night, peacefully in her sleep. She was the lucky one. She didn't live to see the horrors that resulted in the following two years.