CONCEPT: The power of the Slayer passes from one Slayer to the next. Follow that power through the lives of three Slayers as they fight the forces of evil.
SETTING: Germany 1645, Japan 1646, Greece 1647
MY NOTES: Torn is one of those never-ending stories that could go on and on and on because Slayers never stop coming. I wanted to follow the lives of three very different Slayers and I think I've done a good job of that. (Note: Its always a decent story when you freak yourself out and vow to never go swimming again.)
Germany, August 20, in the year of our Lord 1645: Elsa refuses to believe that she is the Slayer. She runs when she sees me and hides in sanctuary in the chapel. The priests believe her to be an exceptionally pious girl and I’m afraid they are right. I shall try to make her see that she is the ultimate instrument of Goode, but it will be difficult. Tonight she has consented to meet with me. I shall try to make her see the true ways of things. Berlin needs her. The Slayer must fight; she is the Chosen One.
“I know you do not like it, but you will do your duty!” Weiss said, his mustache quivering in anger. He stared at Elsa, who flicked her black hair from her eyes. Her crossed arms ticked slightly, as if she wanted to give him a good slap. He prayed she wouldn’t.
“Albert. I fear the demons in your head are telling you lies! You are mad and you think to take me with you!” Elsa said, her chin set firmly, her green eyes blazing.
“Elsa, my dear, you are the Chosen One; you alone must fight against the vampires, the demons and the forces of darkness. One girl in all the world….I have told you this before. You must understand.” Weiss told her forcibly, running a hand through his thinning gray hair as Elsa shot him a disbelieving look. He sighed and thought a moment, then smiled at his ingenuity.
He crossed the room and took out his statue of Herne the Hunter. Carefully, he set it on the wide wooden desk and motioned for her to join him.
“What is that?” Elsa asked curiously, still keeping a safe distance from him.
“That is a very rare statue of Herne the Hunter made of solid marble. Its nearly three centuries old.” Albert answered immediately.
“So?” Elsa asked him, one eyebrow arched in confusion.
“I want you to smash it.” Albert said, a smile on his lips.
“What? But its made of solid marble, you said so yourself! I couldn’t possibly smash that!” Elsa responded, her mouth hanging open.
“Yes, but if you are indeed the Chosen One you could break the statue with ease. If you are not what I claim you to be, then my rather expensive statue is safe from harm.” Albert said, leaning against the edge of the desk. He watched the conflict on her face as she tried to rationalize what he was telling her.
“So…if I fail to break it, you will leave me alone?” She said, appraising the statue and him. “And if I do smash it?”
“You will be trained as the Slayer, as you are meant to be.” Albert answered her, patting her arm. She shrank away from him and bit her lip in thought.
“All right. I will try this. But when I break my hand, you are calling for the doctor.” Elsa said, her eyes shadowed, her shoulders squared.
“Oh, of course.” Albert said, stepping away from the statue. He looked wistfully at Herne and kissed his antlers goodbye.
Elsa stepped in front of the statue and drew back her fist, then brought it down on the statue with all her might. Albert flinched as it crumbled in an explosion of marble and dust. Elsa’s mouth fell open in shock.
Albert turned to Elsa and smiled. “And so your training begins, Chosen One.”
October 24, in the year of our Lord, 1645: Elsa has responded to my training as well as I could hope. Still, she seems to resist the things I tell her. She feels that I keep her from God and that her eternal soul is in jeopardy if she does not attend mass every day. I know it is important to her, but I cannot press upon her the importance of her duties. Her stubbornness is especially taxing now that there seems to be a massive influx of demons and vampires in Berlin. I can’t help but wonder if there is something, or someone uniting them…
The shadows lengthened and Elsa looked up at the sky. A half-sliver of moon peeked from behind silvery, wispy clouds. Her fingers grasped the long wooden stake in the pocket of her dress. She pulled it out and held it to her breast, cradling it possessively. She sighed and stared around the graveyard impatiently.
Another vampire was set to rise, and Elsa was waiting for him. Two days ago, a prominent Berlin citizen was murdered in his home, his body trained of all blood. Albert had sent her here; to the Janssen family crypt in the richest resting place Berlin had to offer. Elsa felt as unwanted here as she did in the households of Albert’s friends. Even the stone angels seemed to look down her, their button noses turned up at her presence.
She sniffed and settled herself back against the small tombstone. Her heavy black dress clung to her legs and she shook the material free with an impatient jerk. Far away, she heard church bells ring and sighed; she was going to miss Mass once more.
In the two months since she had accepted the mantle of Slayer, she had rarely had time to go to Mass. Between training with Albert and patrolling the streets, she was too busy for God. Guilt rose in her throat and she silently vowed to go to confession as soon as she was done for the night.
Just as the last chime finished its dreary echo, she heard it; the sound of wood splintering. She leapt to her feet, her staked raised in defense.
Just as she had suspected, the Janssen crypt’s doors were flung open and Frederick Janssen stumbled out into the night. In the sparse moonlight, she could see his features were twisted and ridged. She shivered involuntarily at the sight of him. Then she licked her lips and squared her shoulders.
“Mr. Janssen?” Elsa called across the cemetery. Janssen growled and looked in her direction, a smile spreading across his cold lips, revealing jagged teeth. She steeled herself as he sprinted to her, his hands outstretched, his eyes wide.
He reached for her and she slammed her fist into his chin. He reeled back in surprise, his lip split open. Elsa took the opportunity his surprise presented her and kicked him in the chest, sending him sprawling backwards. His back hit a stone and she heard a loud crack. She dived at him, the stake raised.
He was dead before he could even scream. She stood as he exploded in a shower of brown dust, a frown on her face. She never liked that part. It disturbed her to see them explode, as if they never were. She felt bad because she didn’t know where their souls went. She prayed that the real Frederick Janssen, the one the vampire killed, was in Heaven with the Lord.
Elsa crossed herself and said the Lord’s prayer over the pile of dust in the grass. Then, her eyes cast downward, shame burning in her chest, she walked away from the cemetery. She prayed she wasn’t too late for a confessional.
Out of the darkness, stepped a man. But he wasn’t a man. His hard yellow eyes bore into Elsa’s back as she walked away. He smiled, blood spilling over his lips.
“A Slayer! Koroth will not be pleased....” The vampire said, shrinking back into the shadows.
December 24, in the year of our Lord, 1645: The Books about Koroth the Infester have arrived from London. The necessary information about him will greatly aid Elsa and I in our quest to rid the city of his evil influence. He seems to evade our every move, as if he can see the things we do. Hopefully the books will shed some light on this. Now if only Elsa will stop fighting me, and fight our enemy.
”Albert! Please, I know it is important, but I MUST attend tonight. It is Christmas Eve!” Elsa said, throwing up her arms in frustration.
“I know it is, but you cannot ignore your duties. Koroth’s minions will be in the city tonight and they will be looking for you. You have had too many close encounters as it is. I want you to be ready for them, and ready does not mean Christmas Service. I am sorry.” Albert argued, a vein popping out on his forehead.
“You’re always sorry. Sorry you have to kill, sorry you have to miss church, sorry you cannot tell anyone you are the Slayer, sorry you might die any moment. Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Elsa fumed, crossing her arms, her face sullen. It was moments like this that Albert was forcibly reminded that Elsa was only sixteen.
“Please, don’t sulk. Tomorrow you may attend church until your tongue falls out from praying too much, but tonight I need you out there in the city, keeping innocents safe. Try to understand?” Albert pleaded with her, his brown eyes softened.
Elsa looked up at him and sighed. “I’ll shall try, but I am not happy about this.”
“Cheer up, its Christmas!” He said, but the dangerous look in her eyes made him stop. He smiled and sat down behind his desk, his eyes on the woodcut of Koroth. The demon’s wide, scaly face looked back up at him, sending a shiver up his spine.
“So, what have you found out about Koroth?” Elsa asked, her tone much friendlier. Albert looked up and frowned.
“Koroth the Infester; he’s a Cullite demon about 700 years old. His minions are all vampires and demons of different species. He infests their minds and they have no choice but to obey him. That is why Koroth seems to know every move we make; he can see through the eyes of his minions. Fascinating, but very unfortunate for us.” Albert explained, his scanning his notes.
“So how do we kill him?” Elsa asked him, fingering the cross around her neck.
“Well, Cullite demons have very vulnerable eyes; if you hit him there with something sharp, he should die. Of course, the trouble with that is, it’s very hard to get near his eyes because of his spiked tail. Also, he’s been known to infest human minds, so that they do exactly as he wishes. It’s not like when he infests a demon, at least the demons and vampires still have sentience. A human becomes, essentially, a mindless slave.” Albert said, looking up and seeing the nervous look on her face.
“Can you be un-infested?” She asked, gulping in fear.
Albert looked down at the large volume on his desk and found the passage quickly. He looked and said, “No, I’m afraid not. It says here, ‘Once infested, the human mind will lose all sanity and the infestation will destroy the brain, leaving the human to die once the Cullite is finished using the human vessel.’” Albert read back to her, verbatim. He looked up from the book and frowned at her.
“You really fill me with hope. Thank you so much.” Elsa said, wringing her hands. She turned her back on him and walked towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Albert called after her. She turned and gave him a slight smile.
“Hopefully, I’m going to go poke something in the eye. Merry Christmas.” She said grimly, and walked out the door. Albert watched her go, frowning as her back disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. He glanced out the window and saw the sun sinking below the horizon.
“Good luck.” He whispered into the Christmas gloom, a shiver of fear dancing along his spine.
Elsa slammed the Skilosh demon against the brick wall, her hand ax against his throat. His eyes glanced down at the sharp edge of steel against his throat and back up at the determined look on her face.
“Where is Koroth?” She demanded of him. He stared at her, unspeaking. “Tell me or I’ll kill you.”
“I would never betray my Master.” The Skilosh said, his thin white lips pressed together in defiance. She pressed the blade closer against his throat, the blade slicing easily into the white, wrinkled skin. She watched as his blood flowed up, sliding along the edge of the ax blade. It made her a little sick to watch it, but she held her disgust in.
“Fine then. I guess your death will just have to serve as an example. Oh, and Koroth? I know you can see me and when you’re finally brave enough to face me, this is exactly what I’m going to do to you.” Elsa said, twirling the Skilosh demon around.
The third eye in the back of the demon’s head stared at her, swiveling in its socket. She raised the ax and brought it down, slicing cleaning through the eye and the back of the Skilosh’s head.
She watched as the demon slumped the ground, twitching in death. She turned on her heel, her fingers clutched around her crucifix. She turned and stared into the bright red eyes of the demon called Koroth.
“Slayer.” The demon said, a smile on his scaly lips, his sharp teeth glistening wetly in the darkness.
“Koroth.” Elsa said softly, raising the ax in front of her. It was ripped out of her hands before she could move, the demon’s long, spiked tail whipping around and out of sight within seconds.
His long, clawed fingers grasped her arms, hauling to him. She yelped and struggled to be free of him, but he held her fast.
“What was it you were going to do to me, Slayer?” Koroth the Infester said, his snake-like tongue slipping from his mouth. She felt it slide along her face and she whimpered in disgust.
“Dear Lord, help me.” She said, groping at her crucifix.
Koroth stared at her cross and smiled evilly, a cruel thought forming in his mind.
Albert put on his thickest cloak and walked out into the street, his eyes scanning the crowd for some sign of Elsa’s dark hair. He didn’t see it and he frowned. She had said she’d meet him hear that morning so they could attend Christmas Day service together. Perhaps she had forgotten and she was already at the church. Albert shrugged and started off towards the chapel at the end of the street.
Soon he was entering the huge church, his eyes scanning the crowd for Elsa. He didn’t see her and his heart lurched. Where could she be?
The service started suddenly and he was forced to sit down, but he craned his neck in all directions, wondering where Elsa was. The service was as tedious as usual and his mind wandered, running in frantic circles. The priest was in the middle of his speech about “giving to the poor and staying safe in these dangerous times”, when the doors crashed open.
The sound echoed through the cavernous church, making everyone reel around in their seats. Albert gasped when he saw Elsa standing in the doorway, snowflakes melting in her black hair, her eyes blank. She slammed the door shut behind her, the sound making everyone jump once more.
Albert stood and called, “Elsa?” She turned to him, a smile on her lips. Fear griped his heart; something was wrong. “Elsa, what’s the matter?”
He walked slowly towards her, his hands out in offering, as if she were a stray animal. Everyone in the church watched them, whispering and muttering under their breathes. She stopped in front of him, reaching out her arms. He stared at her, confused.
“Elsa, what’s the matter?” He repeated, afraid of what she would tell him.
“Nothing is the matter, Watcher. Its Christmas, what could better than this? A church full of ripe, lovely humans and no one to stop me from ripping all their throats out.” She said, smiling wider than ever as the congregation gasped in shock. Albert’s heart fell.
“He’s infested you. Dammit.” Albert said, a hard knot of blame and sorrow in his throat.
“Koroth is strong; stronger than a Slayer. I’ll prove it.” Elsa said, grabbing him around the neck. He found himself raised several inches from the ground, his air cut off. “Say goodbye Watcher.”
With that, she flung him across the room. He slammed against the pulpit, the breath knocked from his lungs. The congregation gasped in horror at her strength and she laughed.
“See that, Watcher? Koroth is strong!” Elsa’s voice said, giggling with glee. She turned to the crowd and said, “Now, who will be the first to worship at Koroth the Infester’s feet?”
The pious crowd screamed and surged away from her as she grabbed at the people closest to her. A young man of about ten struggled and whimpered in her grip. She snapped his neck and flung him to the side, her laughter echoing over the horrified screams of the congregation.
Albert sat up, his eyes filled with dancing sparks. He moved and pain shot up his leg. He knew it was broken without having to look at it. Through a haze of pain, he could see Elsa grabbing at the people closest to her, the ones who couldn’t get around her and out of the church. Bodies were piling up around her as she yanked them away from the crowd.
Albert stood and grabbed the priest. The old man was gibbering on about the Devil, holding up a large wooden cross, as if trying to ward off evil spirits. Albert wrenched the cross from his hands and limped towards Elsa.
Her back was turned and she was holding a young woman with light blonde hair. He flinched as Elsa tore the woman’s scalp off in huge, bloody chunks. The woman screamed and collapsed onto the floor. Elsa laughed and kicked her in the head. The woman stopped screaming.
“Elsa!” Albert screamed as she reached for another victim.
She whirled and stared at him, a cruel smile on her lips. “Watcher? You’re still alive?”
“Forgive me Elsa!” Albert said, raising the cross high above his head. He slammed it down into the Slayer’s chest before she could move. He felt the wood pierce her chest, crunching against bone, bright red blood welling up, pouring down her body. She screamed an inhuman sound and crumpled to the floor.
The cacophony in the church rose as they saw the horror before their eyes. Albert ignored them and crouched before Elsa’s twitching body.
“Koroth, I know you can see me and when I find you, I will kill you. Elsa’s death will NOT be in vain.” He whispered, his heart heavy. Elsa’s head lolled to the side and her green eyes stared up at him.
“Come for me, Watcher.” Elsa’s voice said, blood on the corners of her lips.
“Count on it. I’m sorry Elsa.” Albert said as he placed his hands on top of the cross. He rammed it all the way through her chest, the wood scraping against bone, impaling her all the way. She shuddered and lay still.
Albert hung his head and whispered the Lord’s Prayer. He closed Elsa’s eyes and he felt his heart break. The Slayer was dead, torn away from the world of the living.
A million miles away, the Slayer awoke.
On another note, I have received bad news today. A colleague of mine has died. His name was Albert Weiss and he was the Watcher of the Slayer before Hoshi. They say that he attempted to kill Koroth the Infester, the demon who killed his Slayer, and was infested himself. I will mourn Albert; he was a good man.
“Can I do that again? I know I can do it much better!” Hoshi said, her smile wide. She shrugged her shoulders, the silk kimono clinging to her sweaty skin. She licked her upper lip, tasting her salty sweat. Harold sagged against the rice papered wall for support, his breath heaving in his chest.
“That…that was perfect. No need, really.” Harold said in fluent Japanese. Hoshi giggled at his obvious exhaustion. She sprinted over to him and took him by the arm, leading him over to the padded mat on the floor. He sat down heavily, mopping at his sweaty face with a thin cloth.
Hoshi settled down next him, her feet curled up under her like a cat. She stretched her shoulders, the muscles moving and popping.
“So, patrolling tonight? You promised I could go out by myself for a few hours.” Hoshi said hopefully, her black eyes imploring.
“I did, didn’t I? I don’t know, you’re still just getting used to slaying…” His voice trailed off as she gave him an exasperated look. “All right, you can go by yourself for two hours, but no longer than that.”
Hoshi leapt to her feet, a smile on her lips. “I’ll be very careful and I won’t do anything dangerous and I’ll be a good Slayer. I promise!”
“I know you will be. Take plenty of weapons.” Harold said as she walked away. “And don’t go anywhere near the docks!” He reminded her. He thought he saw her shoulders sag at those words and he knew that was exactly where she had been planning on going.
She walked out of the room, her bright red kimono billowing out behind her; he watched her go with a touch of pride. She was a good Slayer; now was the time to see if she could fly.
September 4, 1646: Hoshi’s kills have made a remarkable leap as of lately. I still feel that she is restless; she wants to please me so much lately. I just hope that desire doesn’t get her killed.
Hoshi jumped off of the top of the temple, her sandals making little puffs of dust rise in the darkness. A brisk wind flew through the naked tree limbs, tossing her dark hair. She flung it out of her eyes and held the stake in her hand against her chest. The wood felt comfortable there and she sighed.
She scanned the rock garden for signs of life, or unlife. She didn’t see anything and she sighed. There wasn’t anyone anywhere near here. The vampires all knew that she patrolled this area and they steered clear of it. More than likely they were all at the docks, where she wasn’t allowed to go.
She scowled and thought about what Harold had told her. Going to the docks alone was dangerous; she could be overpowered, or trapped, or captured. But she was a good Slayer; she was strong and agile and she was ready to face a greater evil. The docks were calling her name.
Hoshi squared her shoulders and took off in the direction of the docks, leaving all her fears behind. To hell with what Harold said, she could do anything. Besides, people needed her.
It didn’t take her long to reach the seaport. The tang of the salty sea air was heavy in her nostrils even before she caught sight of the rocky shore and the long docks. She stepped lightly, every muscle tensed and ready to spring at a moments notice. She passed a moored ship, its sails creaking in the wind like a demon howling at the moon. She clutched the stake tighter in her fist and peered through the darkness.
She walked along the docks, looking for a sign of vampires, or even a demon. Nothing stepped out of the darkness to challenge the short girl, not even a human. She frowned and leaned against a wooden wall, her arms crossed sulkily.
The wall crashed in, sending her pitching backwards in surprise. She landed in a sprawled heap on the floor of a dark room, the wind knocked from her lungs. Struggling, she stood and looked around at her surroundings. Her eyes widened at what she saw.
Fifty vampires stared at her, their leering yellow eyes as shocked as she was. She saw one lift its lip in disgust, revealing jagged, bloody teeth. Behind him, she saw an old man, his throat ripped out.
Hoshi stood, trembling, her heart hammering in her chest. The vampires leered back at her, as if daring her to make a move. Suddenly, a vampire stepped from the crowd and pointed at her.
“The Slayer!” He screamed, spittle flying from his lips. That broke the silent tension and the gang of vampires seethed towards her in an angry, roiling mass. She clutched at her stake and stood at the ready.
The first vamp that reached her exploded in a shower of dust; the second got his jaw crushed in by a side kick. Hoshi’s arms flew in all directions, dusting one more and injuring a few more. She knew there were too many of them; she wasn’t going to kill them all.
Kicking the closest vamp in the stomach and sending him sprawling into his fellows, she ran back the way she had come, jumping over the collapsed wall. Behind her, she could hear the vampires following and she desperately looked around for an escape route.
She ran along the docks, stopping once at a pile of timber next to a trade ship. She flung as many wooden planks as she dared, seeing that a few found their marks; the vampires screamed and exploded in a shower of dust. Still more surged forward, unconcerned with her deadly missiles.
She saw that she was running out of dock to run along and looked around desperately for an escape route. None looked promising. She gulped and looked over at the black water, rippling in the darkness forebodingly.
She looked back at the gang of vampires seething towards her and then back at the water once more. Taking a deep breath, she plunged into over the side of the dock and into the black water.
Hoshi went in over her head and she let her momentum carry her down far below the surface. She knew they could not see where she was in the pitch-black water; but she couldn’t see where she was either. She took great strides, her strong muscles propelling her through the water faster than a normal human would have gone. She thought she was running parallel to the shore, but she couldn’t be sure.
Suddenly she was very aware that she needed air. She decided to risk popping to the surface for a look and a breath of air and stroked upward as fast as she could. She broke the surface, her lungs bursting. She took a great gulp of air and looked around. Her eyes widened when she saw she was far out to sea; the docks were a black line on the black horizon.
Hoshi cursed and looked around for a sign of the vampires; she didn’t see them and she sighed with relief. At least she didn’t have to worry about them.
Suddenly, a clammy hand grasped her ankle and she screamed. She sucked in a lungful of air before she was dragged down into the dark waters. She opened her eyes and saw the bright yellow eyes of a vampire leering at her through the blackish green water. Its face was cast in a strange green haze, making a chill of fear creep up her spine.
The vampire smiled and dragged her down farther. She yanked away from him and started to swim off, but she swam right into another vampire. She twisted around in the water and met another vampire, his smiling face floating in front of her like an evil dream. She turned and saw she was surrounded. They grabbed for her as one, each catching a part of her body.
Hoshi twisted and turned in the water, but they held her fast. She was aware that she needed air, but she couldn’t move. Panic rose in her chest and she knew that they would keep her underwater until she drowned; they didn’t need air because they didn’t breathe. She kicked herself mentally for diving into a trap.
She felt the vampires tugging her down farther into the depths of the water, looks of sheer glee upon their faces. Her lungs were aching for air, but she knew they would never get any. She couldn’t hold it anymore; she involuntarily took a breath and seawater rushed into her mouth. She choked and tried to breathe once more. The water flooded her throat, swirling down into her lungs.
The world was suddenly spinning and sparks danced across her vision. Hoshi’s world began to dim and she took another desperate breath. Another lungful of heavy seawater filled her lungs, but she was beyond caring. Her body jerked and Hoshi spiraled away into the darkness, torn away from her mortal coil.
The vampires laughed soundlessly as they watched her die, her body still, her eyes glazed and unseeing. They let her float away, her limp body swirling in the currents.
Days later, Harold stood on the docks, stonily staring as fishermen pulled Hoshi’s bloated body from the sea. He looked into her eyes and saw that she had none; fish had eaten them. He broke down and collapsed in dust.
Leta clutched her basket of eggs and weaved her way through the marketplace. She found a clear spot and set down her basket, spreading the blanket tucked under arm on the hay-strewn ground. She sat down gingerly, her white dress fluttering around her tanned legs. She placed the basket of eggs before her and waited for her usual customers to come by.
Sure enough, Mrs. Papadakis strolled by, her large basket in her hands. She looked down at Leta’s eggs disinterestedly, as if she wasn’t sure if her eggs were any good or not.
“How much?” Mrs. Papadakis asked, her voice bored and nonchalant. Leta sighed and rubbed the bridge of her long nose.
“The same as yesterday, Mrs. Papadakis, and the day before and the day before. You ask me that every day and my answer is always the same.” Leta said, exasperated.
“I’m a creature of habit Leta, indulge me.” Mrs. Papadakis said, shaking her finger at Leta. “All right, five eggs and make them big ones.”
“My chickens only give big eggs, you know that.” Leta said, picking up an egg. To her surprise, it cracked in her fingers and slippery yolk spilled down her fingers and her wrist.
“Well, I don’t want that one.” Mrs. Papadakis said, sniffing a little. Leta cast her a dirty look as she wiped her fingers on the edge of her blanket.
“That’s the third time that has happened this week. I guess I don’t know my own strength….” Leta said; her eyes thoughtful and her mind troubled.
“I’ll get them myself, dear. Don’t worry about it.” Mrs. Papadakis said, fishing into her apron and pulling out a handful of coins. She placed them in the basket and pulled out five large eggs. “Have a good day.” She said, and walked off into the crowd.
Leta watched her go and frowned. Something felt off lately and she couldn’t explain it. She looked up and saw a handsome man walking straight towards her. She watched him look around, a strand of long blonde hair falling over his eyes. She didn’t recognize him and she wondered where he was from.
He stopped in front of her and smiled. “Leta Kristos?” He said, his words heavy with an English accent.
“Yes. May I help you?” Leta asked, confused.
“Actually you can. You’re the Chosen One.” The man said, his Greek stilted slightly, like he wasn’t quite fluent in the language.
“Chosen One? I don’t know what you mean…” Leta said, standing up and staring at him. “Who are you?” He grabbed her arm and pulled her behind a barrel of wine. She looked up into his eyes and gulped.
“My name Julian Connelly. I have been sent here to train you.” He said in a low voice. She saw excitement dancing in his blue eyes.
“T-train me for what?” Leta asked him, looking around at the marketplace. No one looked their way.
“To be the Slayer; to kill the vampires and the demons and the forces of darkness. Only you can fight them because you have the strength and the skill. It is your duty…” Julian said, grabbing her arms. She stared at him, wide-eyed, taking in his words.
And suddenly, things snapped into place. The strange things happening around the village, the murders and the ghost ship that came to port full of bodies. And the sudden increase in her strength. It all made sense.
Leta looked back up Julian, the weight of the world settling on her shoulders like a second skin. The Slayer was born.
THE END.