| Getting Her Mind Right |
[06 Sep 2006|10:04am] |
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mood |
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music |
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Sinner's Prayer - Slaid Cleaves |
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“If I were you, Grace, I’d learn to share.”
Grace was in the tub, Rhiannon's parting shot rattling around in her brain like an annoying echo. She thought she might've broken a land-speed record driving back to Las Vegas, having left Searchlight behind after a muttered farewell. Just to get away, get away before she snapped, if only because she doubted Matthew would have appreciated finding a dead Slayer on his front porch.
And not just any Slayer. Rhiannon. Deanna's Rhiannon.
( Hot Water Thoughts )
Despite the hour, she still had to go out. Her snark about the graveyard shift hadn't been entirely pointless, since she'd heard Lorne's urgent voicemail and returned it. Always something to do, enough of the time that it could make a body feel beset. But at this point, she didn't mind.
Off to work, then, but first...
( Voicemail for Deanna )
( Voicemail for Matthew )
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| Salvation. |
[06 Sep 2006|02:28pm] |
The empty warehouse creaked and groaned.
The other only sound that permeated the silence of the empty space was the occasional sob or whimper.
Black streaks of spent mascara ran down Meredith's cheeks from her tears and a trail of dried blood ran down her chin from where Levi had hit her. In the darkness, the sounds of Elian's screams echoed inside her mind repeatedly, never ceasing for one moment to give her any peace.
She stopped trying to free herself ages ago, knowing unless someone had found her, she really would have no way to escape. Her voice had already become hoarse from screaming, and her throat dry from thirst and from continual sobbing. Her wrists were raw from tugging at the ropes which bound them, but the panic and the hysteria had since faded after her body had run free of adrenaline, leaving her with nothing but raw unwavering grief.
Elian had been like a brother to her, and she had loved him dearly like one. He was an innocent, decent soul who didn't deserve the hand he got dealt. And sitting there in that warehouse in the darkness, Meredith could only hope Lorne had remained untouched. She couldn't afford to lose him, too.
When she closed her eyes, her chin lowered to her chest; when she exhaled, the breath came out jagged. The tears welled up again, and in the silence of the empty room, she began to cry once more.
It took Grace four hours to find the warehouse. Forty-five minutes of sitting in her car outside of Bowman's house netted her nothing but a rapidly fraying temper, so she stopped by the Basement for long enough to speak to some familiar faces. Then she drove around for a while, looking for the place she'd heard the cop liked to stash occasional 'interrogation' recipients.
The heavy door of the Plymouth slammed shut as the vampire's boots thumped to the concrete. Grabbing a flashlight from the passenger seat, she flicked it on, then went for a little walk.
Goddamn that Bowman, if one hair was out of place on Meredith's head, he might as well cut his own nuts off. "You'll beg for death when I'm done, pigboy..."
( Hell hath no fury like women scorned. )
The vampire trailed after Meredith as though she'd gone into a trance, and the smell of blood got stronger as she neared the threshhold of the room the human wandered into. The smell of death was almost overpowering once she was inside, and she looked at the crimson puddle on the floor. No body, though.
"I'll find him," she said, her tone distracted and a bit thick. "The kid. In case you're wantin' a proper burial." She moved forward, looked over the other woman's shoulder at the sandal she was holding, then slipped both arms around the mortal from behind.
"Revenge," she murmured, pressing at the wall of grief to get to the anger. "You don't have to be sorry, you just have to pay them back." Her hands locked together as the hard muscles of her arms flexed, offering a squeeze.
"It's gonna be fun, baby. I'll show you how much fun."
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| A Fresh Start |
[06 Sep 2006|09:54pm] |
Leah pulled her rental car out of the parking space in front of the apartment complex office. Her own car and her belongings were on their way to Nevada from Buffalo at that very moment, but it would still be a few days before they arrived. Now at least she had a place to put them in, and a very nice one too.
The apartments in Vegas were newer than most of the ones in Buffalo or Springville. She'd heard that Las Vegas was growing in leaps and bounds but hadn't really believed it until she'd arrived. Buffalo and that region of the country was on the decline, and looked shabby compared to the neat red tiled apartments of Las Vegas. The townhouse she'd just rented was gorgeous, and she couldn't wait to move in over the weekend.
The money Simon had given her as her share of the take from Iago had covered the rent of the townhouse for the next six months. It also covered the cost of moving her stuff from Buffalo to Vegas with enough left over to let her do some job searching without taking the first thing she came across.
She could get a job at a strip club, but she wanted something more. Leah just wasn't sure what that was yet. Stripping was fun, and she'd probably moonlight on a weekend for extra money but it was time to start looking at more options. It was time to start thinking about the future.
She wouldn't be nineteen forever.
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| The Offer |
[06 Sep 2006|10:36pm] |
( Somewhere, some time )
Samantha screamed as she awoke suddenly, jolting upright in bed. She clutched her comforter so tight, her knuckles turned white, eyes darting around her bedroom while she struggled to catch her breath. The Slayer was sweating, running a shaky hand through her hair as she glanced at the alarm clock.
2:47 in the morning.
Samantha sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. It was that dream again. Only it hadn’t been so much a dream as a memory, a horrible memory the Slayer spent every day wishing she could forget. It was the night she found out the truth about Russell’s death, the night she found out just how powerful David Gregor was.
Wolfram & Hart as an entity never scared the Slayer, but Gregor did.
Samantha rose from bed, walking gingerly into the kitchen, flipping on the light and grabbing a glass. Pouring herself some water from the sink, the Slayer stared out her window as she sipped at it. She knew the day would come she’d have to deal with Gregor again, and those fears had been confirmed the day Jillian Andersen showed up in her office.
David Gregor had re-entered the picture, and he was apparently the one pulling the strings behind her getting the job in the Las Vegas homicide unit. The Slayer couldn’t help but wonder if he was behind the asshole lieutenant she had to work for, too—Levi seemed like just the chap they’d go for over at the big, bad law firm.
But more than anything, Samantha was scared.
( So fetching... )
( Pardon the Interruption...and the Trespassing )
( The Darkness )
( And I should care why? )
( Important, yet not )
( There's that darkness he was talking about... )
“Remember how you said you knew the darkness that lived within me?” she asked, twisting the handle jutting from his leg, causing him to grunt and squirm at the pain. “How you said you knew how bad I could get.
“Well, pay close attention, David Gregor, because you haven’t seen anything yet.”
With that, the Slayer patted Gregor’s cheek before standing, turning on her heels and heading back up the stairs. Before she began the ascension, though, Sam looked over her shoulder, no emotion on her face.
“I’m going to kill you,” she said. “But before I do, I want answers. About everything, and for every answer I don’t get, your remaining days on this planet will get worse and worse. I could care less if your ‘Senior Partners’ come after me, because nothing they do to me could compare to what I’m going to do to you. So that’s my offer: you answer my questions, I kill you quick. You don’t, and I employ every torture device I have and know of to prolong your pitiful existence just a little bit longer.
“I’ll give you time to think about it.”
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