One Minute In The Life Of A Vampire Slayer
Author’s Commentary: I don’t know what exactly inspired
this—I think I was listening to Tantric’s ‘Mourning’ while I wrote most of it,
even though the lyrics at the bottom are not from that at all, but from Jimmy
Eat World’s ‘Hear You Me’, so that explains the mood—though I was listening to
‘Hear You Me’ by the time I was writing the end, all of which probably
influenced the style of this little one-shot.
I rated this R for violence and darkness, cause it’s pretty darn dark,
especially for me. It’s not especially
any particular ship, but does take from how I see the series to be
progressing. Just picture this to take
place around a year or so in the future, with spoilers for Normal Again, and
nothing more. NOTE, this will not be
continued, preluded, or explained. This
is one minute in one girl’s roller-coaster life, to be examined and
contemplated; make of it what you will.
Summary: Take one minute of a vampire slayer’s life, a
minute which holds a universe of pain and fear and emotion. Let it revolve around two characters—one who
trusts too naively and one on the knife’s edge of salvation or damnation, but
finally allowed to choose for himself, held back by neither man nor machine.
Something broke inside her as she
watched her sister step towards the vampire, chin down and still-innocent
seeming eyes wide with piercing awareness.
This couldn’t be real, of all the things since she’d begun to live again
this couldn’t be another thing she’d just allowed to happen. He’d promised, and now the vampire was
really going to take away all she still lived for, all she’d rebuilt her life
had stopped and her chest was tight with hurt and loss and the dawning
anticipation of the betrayal she shouldn’t have convinced herself was
impossible now. The needles of emotion
slowly pressing into her lungs tattooed themselves into her soul, far
overpowering the merely organic and superficial pain of her broken leg, her
bleeding fingers, and her black and blue body.
She should have stayed in that other world she forsook an age ago, should
have let the hospital cleanse her mind and the illusory parents soothe her
soul. She shouldn’t have to watch this
happen, she should never have to watch this happen. She wanted to close her eyes and wash it all away but the only
thing she could do was use her still functional limbs to drag herself forward,
watching with a broken heart and one eye—the other too blinded by her own
blood—as the dark reared its treacherous self in someone she thought had
finally tasted the light.
as slow and ineffectual as it was, went unnoticed by her sister and the
vampire, but was seen by another across the room. A terrified friend, a woman who would have stopped all of this,
if she hadn’t burned out and lost all her gifts in an explosion of rage and power
mere months ago. As helpless as a schoolchild
now, she still vainly ripped already blistered fingers in an attempt to loosen
the bindings that kept her out of the equation. Over the gag in her mouth the auburn haired ex-everything
screamed with her eyes at the Slayer, both begging her to achieve her
intervention and pleading her not to make the hell any worse by trying.
do nothing to help that friend—or the forgotten friend sprawled in the corner,
blinking in and out of brown-hair and brown-eyed consciousness and handcuffed
to the newly exposed full copper repipe.
She could only move another slow, bleeding inch, and watch as her
sister, eyes full of unwarranted trust and incalculable fear, reached out soft
young hands to cup the her killer’s cheeks.
vampire, fangs gleaming and the picture of everything anti-human, leaned
forward as the sixteen year old gently pulled his head down, both with eyes
closed and bodies strung tighter than violin wire. From her bloody mess on the floor the Slayer could see the way he
let his tongue touch the shampoo-conditioned skin of her the girl’s neck,
see the vampires hands clench, see her sister grab those hands in her own and
hold them, silently letting the demon squeeze them as well until her
simultaneously new and ancient blood dripped to the floor.
see her sister quiver with the pain, her forehead still resting of the
vampire’s shoulder, her breath hitched, the vampire’s fangs still a touch from
ripping her apart, frozen above the open offering, held back by something or
nothing, only he knew.
see world stopping, the black encroaching like an infection across her
eyesight, the movement of time ceasing o be linear and freezing dead-end on
this painted representation of pain, love, and choice.
see the—loverkillerwarriorsinnercharmertraitor— vampire touch soft,
closed lips to the adolescent neck, step back from end the of the world, and
remake himself through the gift of mercy.
thoughts, amidst the violent landscape her suitor and her enemy had wreaked
with cold passion and open eyes, as the demon called concussion pulled her away
from the pain of this waking life, was that the world would be different in the
morning. Her vampire walked on knives
no longer, yet in the minute of choice and change and paths taken and paths
less traveled by, he exercised free will to caress, and not to kill.
May angels lead you in
Hear you me my friend
On a sleepless road the sleepless go
May angels lead you in
So what would you think of me now?
So lucky so strong somehow
I never said thank you for that