CONCEPT: Anna is a Slayer in rural Mississippi. While attempting to slay a little vampire, a mob targets her for her color.

SETTING: 1931 Mississippi

MY NOTES: I was hesistant to write this story, as it deals with touchy subjects like racism and color. Personally, I'm not racist and I feel sorry for anyone who is. I did use the "N" word in this story, simply to demostrate the ignorance of others, so please forgive me if you're offended.

August 23, 1931, Mississippi~ Anna and I have been training relentlessly for the past month. In my mind, the girl seemed preoccupied with something and I’m not sure I understand her way of thinking. She keeps prattling on about civil rights and things and I am hard pressed to keep her mind on the bigger picture. Honestly, I don’t know what I’ll do with her.

This week little Hannah Beckford disappeared and I don’t think it had anything to do with kidnappers. Her family is well off, but I must not rule out the possibilities of the forces of darkness. The Slayer seems deeply troubled by the girl’s disappearance, but I’m not surprised. She used to work in the Beckford household as a child. Hopefully, Anna can put her feelings behind her and we can get to the bottom of this sad incident.

“Mr. Banner, honestly. I don’t see why you won’t let me go to the march!” Anna said, her voice exasperated, her hands on her hips. Frank stared her down, his pale blue eyes stern.

“How many times do I have to tell you; there are more important things going on in this world than segregation. Now, I know you’re very concerned with it, and I don’t blame you, but you must keep your head on your shoulders.” Frank said, sitting down heavily in his stuffed chair.

“I don’t care if its part of my Slayer duties or not! I want to go and I’m attending that meeting.” Anna said, raising her chin in defiance.

“No. You’re not.” Frank said firmly, staring down the girl over the rim of his glasses.

“I’d like to see you stop me. Remember what happened last time you tried? You had a bruise on your arm for two weeks and I still went to the demonstration in McComb.” Anna reminded him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m going.”

“If you must,” Frank said, relenting at last. He sighed and rubbed his temples.

“I know you’d see it my way.” Anna said brightly, a hand wrapping in the pearls around her neck. “Now, about Hannah Beckford…”

“Yes, I wanted to talk to you about that. Since there hasn’t been any ransom note, I’m afraid this might be a matter concerning the Slayer.” Frank told her, wiping his glasses clean with a crisp white handkerchief. He put them back on and blinked owlishly up at her.

“You think she might be in danger, like vampire/demon danger?” Anna said, her heart sinking.

“Yes. Now, don’t look so downtrodden. I might be wrong and lets pray that I am.” Frank said, reassuring her. “I know you were close to the child and I’m sorry.”

“Not close, really. I just knew her; I used to change her diapers and give her baths while Mrs. Beckford was out shopping.” Anna said, her deep chocolate eyes far away. “But not close; not at all.” “Anyway, tonight I am having dinner with Mr. Beckford and I’m afraid it won’t be seemly to have you here.” Frank said, uncomfortably changing the subject.

“Seemly?” Anna said, narrowing her eyes. “Why, everyone knows I work for you. What’s so unseemly?”

“I mean, Mr. Beckford wouldn’t like you to…how shall I put this, dine with us. It’s perfectly all right just the two of us, but in mixed company, I’m afraid it’s rather….” Franks said, searching for the right word.

“Not done ‘round these parts.” Anna said, a scowl gracing her full lips.

“To put it bluntly, yes.” Frank said, looking embarrassed.

“Do you feel the same way? Am I beneath you?” Anna asked, her cheeks flushing with anger.

“Of course not! Anna my dear, you’re like my own daughter. I’m not like these other ruffians; I think with my heart, not my eyes.” Frank said, reaching out a hand to hers. He smiled, his pale blue eyes crinkling.

“I know, Mr. Banner. I’m sorry I’m so quarrelsome lately, but its just getting to be too much. I heard T.J. Diggs was burned out of his home last week, just because he refused to leave the grocery store. Its honestly making me sick.” Anna said, sighing. She bit her lip in thought and looked back at Frank.

“I heard about that unfortunate incident and I’m afraid I had a stern talk with the local sheriff about it the other morning.” Frank said, taking a sip of his tea.

“A stern talking to? Yeah, right. Like that’s going to help. Sheriff Adams was probably the one who lit the match.” She said bitterly.

“Oh, Anna, don’t think that way.” Frank said, setting his cup down with a clatter.

“How can I not! He’s hassled me more times than I can count while I was out patrolling.” Anna said, throwing up her arms in exasperation.

“He’s doing his job.” Frank retorted logically. He was really getting sick of the same old argument between the two of them.

“Right, so am I.” Anna said, dropping the issue, along with her anger. It wouldn’t do any good getting all worked up over something she couldn’t change. Frank watched her for a moment, trying to think of something to say to get her mind off of the incident. He looked away and something caught his eye. Out the window, he saw a car coming up the drive, kicking a cloud of red dust up in its wake.

Anna followed his gaze and sighed. “Your dinner with Mr. Beckford. I guess that means I’ll get out of here. He wouldn’t approve of me sitting at the same table as him.” She said dryly, casting Frank a hurt look.

“Anna, its just not how things are done…” Frank said again, but she held up a hand to silence him.

“I know how things are, believe me.” Anna said, grabbing her weapons bag up from the floor. “I have to patrol anyway.”

“Anna…” He started to protest, but she turned on her heel, her brown ponytail bobbing. He watched her go, shaking his head in confusion. The girl was so willful.

Anna kicked at the dried clumps of grass, the end of her scuffed saddle oxfords covered in red dust. Sweat beaded her forehead and she wiped it away with a weary hand. Overhead, the moon shone down at her from its perch in the cloudy sky. She squinted at the orange glow of the moon and tried to turn her thoughts away from Hannah Beckford.

She remembered the time when she used to work at the Beckford plantation with her mother, cleaning and cooking and watching the children running through the house. She had always envied them and the way they could act like children; she had always had to be an adult.

Hannah’s little angelic face hovered in her mind’s eye and she thought about the day she had been born. It was Anna who had run for the doctor, all ten miles. She remembered all too well the blisters on her eleven-year-old feet from that run.

Suddenly, Anna spotted a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of her eye. She whirled, fists raised. She quickly lowered them when she spotted a familiar face.

“Hannah! Oh my God, everyone’s been looking everywhere for you. Where have you been?” Anna said, running towards little girl.

And then, something stopped her dead in her tracks.

Hannah’s eyes glowed yellow in the light of the orange moon and her smile was impossibly sharp for a little girl. The front of her white Sunday dress was stained a brilliant crimson, like a scarlet blossom in the snow.

“Oh Hannah. I’m so sorry.” Anna said, a sob escaping her lips. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at the demon under the angelic face of the six-year-old before her. The memory of the little child she had run ten miles for in the summer heat faded in an instant.

“Anna, help me. I’m lost.” The demon said with Hannah’s voice. She stared up at her, one thumb stuck in the corner of her mouth.

“Hannah, I’m so sorry. I promise I won’t let you stay like this. I promise you’ll go to heaven and be with the angels.” Anna said, edging closer to the little girl turned devil. She slipped a stake out of her weapons bag and threw it on the ground behind her.

“But I don’t want to go to heaven. I want to stay and play.” Hannah said, grinning her evil grin. Anna shuddered and steeled herself.

With one lunge she was on top of the little girl, struggling to pin her to the dusty ground. Hannah snarled with a voice too deep for such a little thing and tried to bite at her arms. Anna kept clear of those snapping jaws and managed to hook a hand around the girl’s neck.

Anna pinned her down and raised the stake, intending to ram it down into Hannah’s chest and send her to heaven.

A burly, heavy, hairy hand grabbed the stake from Anna’s hand and threw the Slayer to the ground. Anna rolled and leapt to her feet, her fists raised in defense. She peered into the darkness and recognized the huge form of Amos Dudley, a farm hand on the Beckford plantation. His dull green eyes were wild as he tried to take in the scene before him.

“What were you doing to the child, nigger?” Amos said, spit flying from his thin lips. He threw the stake to the ground and took a step toward Anna, but stopped when she raised another fist at him.

“I was sending her to heaven. She’s not human; just look at her!” Anna said, nodding her head in the direction of the prostrate child.

Amos dared a glance and Anna cursed as Hannah’s normal, scared, child face stared back at him, blue eyes wide. Amos turned back to Anna and sneered.

“You’re gonna hang for this.” Amos said, advancing on her. Anna kicked out a leg, catching Amos in the side of the head. He stumbled backward, obviously surprised at her strength. He shook his head and reached for her again, but she jabbed him in the face with her elbow, then she brought her fist down into the back of his head.

Amos landed in an unconscious heap in the red dust, blood flowing from his nose. Anna reckoned it might be broken, but she didn’t much care.

She leapt over Amos’s hulking form and rolled, grabbing her stake as she went. She landed back on her feet and looked around for Hannah, but, to her dismay, she was nowhere to be found.

“Dammit.” Anna said, looking about frantically. In front of her, the Beckford cotton fields loomed, fluffy and dry in the August heat. She gulped and took off into them, looking for the demon that had stolen a child’s life.

Two hours later, Anna walked back into the house she shared with her Watcher, her right arm cut and bleeding from the barbed wire fence she had crawled under to reach the cotton fields. It was already beginning to heal and she paid it no attention.

She saw the lights of the small study were still on and she jogged up to the door, rapping her knuckles smartly on the oak door.

“Come in!” Frank called, his voice muffled by the heavy door.

Anna walked inside, blinking in the light. The Englishman looked up, his eyes deeply shadowed. He gestured for her to sit down in the chair opposite him.

“Did you find out anything?” He asked immediately, pushing his glasses back onto his nose from where they had slipped down.

“Yes. Hannah’s a vampire.” Anna said, the words leaving the bitter taste of failure on her tongue.

“And did you slay her?” Frank said, asking the question he knew he had to. His eyes gave her all comfort she needed, and she was grateful for it.

“No. I was…stopped.” Anna said quietly. “By Amos Dudley.”

“Oh dear. What happened?” Frank asked her, sitting on the edge of his chair.

Anna quickly told him everything that had happened, including what Amos had said to her.

“This isn’t good. Amos is surely going to tell everyone about what you were doing and what you did to him.” Frank said, licking his lips nervously.

“I know, I know.” Anna said, shaking her head. Her eyes were two pinpricks of worry, burning right through Frank’s head. He knew she obviously wanted an answer to her problems from him.

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to go on a little trip, my dear. They can’t do anything to you if you aren’t here.” Frank said, standing up tall in his chair.

Anna cast him a dubious look, as if doubting his plans. He ignored her look and gestured toward the door.

“Go pack a bag dear. We’re leaving tonight.” Frank said, standing and walking from the room. He turned at the door and said, “I won’t let them harm you.”

Anna hung her head and let one tear fall down her cheek. This was her home and now she had to leave it because of the stupidity of people. She wanted to scream and kick and protest, but she knew it was the right thing to do.

Then Hannah’s little face floated in her brain and she wanted to sob. She had made a promise to Hannah, one she had to break. It wasn’t fair; it just wasn’t fair.

Anna stood, her legs trembling. Sometimes, life isn’t fair. Anna thought as she turned on her heel and headed towards her room.

Frank pulled the car out of the driveway and eased it down the dirt road. Anna shifted uneasily in her seat, looking around at the dark landscape. Suddenly, a loud crack sounded through the still night, making them both jump. Anna looked behind them and was blinded by a pair of bright headlights that suddenly flared to life. She squinted, trying to look past the bright lights, but she couldn’t see anything.

Another loud bang ripped through the night and Anna jumped as the back window cracked and splintered, glass raining down on her.

“We’re being shot at!” Anna said, her eyes wide. She hunkered down in the seat while Frank did the same.

“Hold on, I’m going to do something I never thought I would!” Frank yelled, his voice edged with anger. He suddenly yanked the steering wheel to the left, sending the car careening into the grass on the side of the road. Anna held on tight, as he whipped the car around once more, heading back toward the glowing headlights behind them. They zipped past the vehicle and took off into the night.

Anna looked back behind them and finally saw their attackers; She recognized Amos Dudley’s pickup truck, and several of the men in the back of the truck, guns raised. She gulped as the truck did a u-turn in the road and came back towards them.

“They’re coming back!” Anna exclaimed as Frank cursed under his breath. They both ducked as another shot ripped through the windshield, raining glass down onto them.

Another shot rang out, then another. Suddenly, pain lanced through Anna’s shoulder and she looked down at her chest. Blood blossomed on the front of her dark blue shirt, looking like black oil as it pumped from her. She raised one surprised, numb hand to the wound, turning to Frank with a look of sheer panic and pain. Frank’s eyes widened at the sight and he sobbed out something unintelligible.

Anna collapsed on the seat, shaking uncontrollably. Tears fell from her eyes and she prayed to God under her breath. Frank, anger welling up in his soul, slammed on the gas, intending to get them the hell out of there.

He didn’t see the truck in front of him, pulling out of its hiding place behind a tree.

He collided with it, the sound of metal and bones crunching. Shouts and bright lights filled his vision as he was thrown against the steering wheel. Anna’s door flew open, ejecting her into the grass.

Frank came too a second later, his head throbbing and his right leg twisted underneath him. He tried to move it, but he winced and knew it was broken. Suddenly, before he could move, a pair of strong, burly hands grabbed the door and jerked it open. He fell out into the dust, gritting his teeth in pain. The same hands hauled him to his feet, pinioning his arms behind him. He yelped in pain as he was made to put weight on his broken leg, but his captor didn’t seem to care.

“Grab that darkie bitch! We’re going to string her up!” A familiar voice said, thick with hatred. Frank struggled against the strong arms around him and was rewarded by a fist in his face. He sagged, barely conscious, his whole body racked with pain.

Anna came too, her chest aching, her eyes bleary. She was aware that she was sprawled in the grass, one arm pinned under her own body. She tried to move and found that there was nothing broken. She took a deep breath and sparks flew across her vision. Her lungs whistled wetly and she thought that the bullet must have hit them. As she struggled to her feet, she coughed, blood welling up in her throat.

Her eye focused once more and she caught sight of a gun barrel pointed directly at her head. She looked up into Samuel Beckford’s accusing face, fear gripping her heart.

“Mr. Beckford…I….” She started to say, but her words were cut off.

“You tried to kill my daughter, you little nigger bitch!” Mr. Beckford said, his eyes burning with rage.

“You don’t understand…I never…” Anna protested, but he silenced her with the butt of his rifle. She fell back onto the ground, her vision exploding with pain.

“String her up!” A stranger’s voice yelled from the darkness and Anna knew what was going to happen before she felt the rope around her neck. It was tugged tight and she couldn’t bring her hands up to pull it from her neck.

Her vision cleared and she tried looking around for Frank, but a crowd had formed around her, blocking her view of the car and her Watcher. The men pressed in around her and she shrank from them.

“I recognize her! She was in that demonstration in McComb not too long ago! She’s a troublemaker!” George Brooks the grocer said, kicking at her. She tried to move, but the rope held her tight and his blow landed along her ribs. She gasped in pain, bright blood flying from her mouth.

“String her up!” The crowd said again, urging Beckford and his cronies on. Anna felt herself being hauled to her feet, tethered and dragged by the rough hemp around her neck.

Beckford kicked her several times on the way to the nearest tree, battering her already abused body. Along the way, her mother’s pearl necklace slipped off her neck, the shiny white beads glittering briefly in the light of the moon.

The march from the car to the grass seemed to take forever, but finally, they stopped Anna, the rope burning her dark flesh, making her cry out in pain once more. She saw the men throw the end of the rope around a limb. She prayed to God with all her might for strength she could be free, but she was too weak. She was bleeding too heavily, and not even her advanced Slayer strength and healing abilities could stop a gunshot wound.

She wavered on her feet and stared out at the crowd. She tried to meet each burning eye, illuminated by torches she hadn’t seen before. She recognized every person in the crowd, and she wanted to cry. They didn’t care who she was or how important she was to the world. All they saw was the color of her skin. Anna knew she was going to die, and no one would save her, not even herself.

“Anna Wood, you are accused of kidnapping and attempted murder on a white child. You are also accused of assaulting a fine, upstanding white man. How do you plead?” Sheriff Adams said, disengaging himself from the crowd.

Anna didn’t say anything; she knew it was no use. She held her head high, a smile on her cracked, bloody lips.

“Fine. String her up!” The Sheriff said, crossing his arms over his chest. He eyes danced with glee as Anna was grabbed and hauled on top of one of the pickup trucks. One man held her, while another one tightened the noose around her neck even further.

Anna looked down, and saw Hannah Beckford clinging to her father’s leg, a look of sheer evil and triumph on her little face. She giggled and waved a pudgy hand in Anna’s direction. Anna cried out, tears making bloody tracks on her cheeks.

“Hannah! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I broke my promise to you! I’m so sorry!” Anna choked out, her voice carrying out over the screaming, seething crowd.

From behind, she felt a push in the small of her back, the slightest of touches. She teetered on the edge of the truck, and then she fell. She fell forever until it stopped with a jolt of pain---and then, darkness.

Back behind the crowd, Amos Dudley forced Frank’s head up and was made to stare at the horrifying scene in front of him. He cried out for a moment, and then he struggled against Amos’s strong hands.

“Your little nigger bitch is dead, Englishman. Take a look!” He screamed, forcing Frank’s head up again. He looked and saw Anna’s thin, lithe body swinging in the darkness, her head turned at an odd angle. He knew at once that her neck was broken. She was dead.

“Anna!” He screamed, reaching out towards her. Amos slammed him to ground and started beating him, shouting to his friends for help. Soon, Frank wasn’t moving, but his chest still rose and fell. Samuel Beckford grabbed his arms and pulled him back.

“That’s enough. Let’s go.” Beckford said, his face white and pinched. He couldn’t believe what they had just done.

The crowd made no time in jumping back into the trucks and speeding away. No one said anything, but they all thought justice had been done. A few were sick to their stomachs, and a few bragged. But no one would ever forget this night.

Sam Beckford stayed long after everyone left, his hand in his daughter’s. Finally, he turned and walked away from the sight. He glanced down at Frank Banner and saw that the man was no longer breathing. He mourned for his friend, but he was over it before he could take another breath.

He walked away and didn’t think about the girl or her old man. Hannah looked back once, her face twisted, her eyes yellow and glowing.

“Daddy, I want to play.” She said, looking up at her father.

His screams fell over the dark night, falling on the dead ears of a Watcher, sprawled in the grass, and the Slayer, swinging in the breeze, her dead eyes staring into the abyss.

THE END.