history lesson-


by Amberina

She had been a normal girl once. It was hard for her to imagine life before her calling, but it had existed. She was so carefree. It seemed unreal.

But Slayer was her only name to go by now, and her friends were but a distant memory. She was to stand alone.

Every night she would fight the beasts, the dead things that plagued her village. Her parents didn't know she was still alive. But she didn't think of her parents anymore. She couldn't see them. Even if she could, they would only scream, try to kill her, for her entire nature was different now.

Her calling had transformed her into nothing more than an animal, a predator. She no longer stood upright, and her clothing was nothing more than rags - she still wore the same thing she had been draped in at her calling, mud caked her face, her hair, for Slayer had no use for cleansing.

Her calling had been a knowing, a knowing of what she had to do. There was no ritual, just a peace settling over her. A knowing.

The day she had been called had been like any other day. She sat by the pond after picking berries for her mother. It was a hot day, and she wouldn't have gotten undressed if it wasn't for the sweltering sun beating down on her shoulders. Her brother always teased her, said she should be used to the heat by now. She knew it wasn't proper to get undressed outside of one's bedroom, but she reasoned that nobody knew where this pond was, so there was a very small chance of someone coming by and catching a glimpse of her nakedness.

She let the cool water wash over her, felt it wash the sweat from her skin. She climbed out, now savoring the feel of the sun as it dried her off. The steam rolled off her shoulder, and she sighed contentedly. She began to gather her clothing off of the rock she had set it on, and heard rustling in the bushes.

She looked around, straining to hear if it was a person or just a random creature.

It turned out to be the latter. The creature - the thing - dripped slime and oozed death. She knew she should run, but something told her to fight. So she did, and quickly brought it down. It was then that she knew. And all without her clothes. So she was doomed to wear her undergarments until death. Not that she thought about that.

She had been fourteen then. Now she didn't know her age, didn't even think about it. Even though it hadn't been that long since she had been called.

She didn't think about anything. Nothing but the hunt, the kill, that was all that mattered. She lived in shadows, ate when she could, avoided people, for she knew this was something she had to do alone, otherwise - there was no otherwise. Something told her that she had to stand alone. Now she realized that the current Slayer, this Buffy, had the right idea. Maybe she wouldn't have been killed so soon if she had friends . . .

She was the eternal Slayer, the First, and she was the source of power for all the Slayers that would follow. But strangely enough, or maybe not so much, she had lived as Slayer for only a few months. To her it was a lifetime, but it was only a few months.

Her death had been quick, painless, not through a monumental battle, but while she slept. She hadn't meant to sleep that far into the night, but yet she did. And she should have heard it coming, sensed it's presence, but yet she didn't. Maybe it had been her time to go.

It didn't matter. She was still bitter.

That's why she had attacked the current Slayer's friends in their dreams, when they slept. It was the only time people like them were truly vulnerable.

She hated the current Slayer, and also envied her. Why hadn't she had the guidance of a Watcher? Why didn't she deserve friends? Why didn't she deserve a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? It didn't matter to her which.

She just wanted to be loved. She wished she had had a chance to be loved. She wanted to know why she hadn't. But the Powers wouldn't answer her question, as they always avoid direct confrontation.

She hated how they wouldn't answer her question. It was really a simple one. Why hadn't she been allowed to love? Why was she reduced to an animalistic predator? Living only to kill?

The other Slayer, this Faith, as she liked to be called, she identified with her.

She too had lost her chance to love, and she too was nothing more than a predator.