Chapter 3: Not My Own

Title: Damaged Souls
Character(s): Dana (a vampire slayer)
Warnings: Violence
Pairings: None
Fandom: Angel the Series
Word count: 1,277
Rating: R
Disclaimer: (These characters belong to Joss Whedon, The WB, UPN, and FOX). Although I am emoting these characters I did not CREATE them. No copyright infringement is intended nor implied.

Chapter 3: Not My Own

Night had turned into day almost in the blink of an eye. My mind was in a daze, as if trying to forget everything and anything that it saw or managed to remember. But no matter how much I tried to erase the past, I couldn't erase a lifetime of pain... the scars were still there... they would always be there... so visible, like the lines in map, covering every inch of the world. My body ached, my arms felt heavy and the blood stained stake that I held in my hand kept getting heavier and heavier with every step. I took a look at my hands and realized that they were faintly bruised now, but the blood still remained... dried blood, blood that never seemed to wash off. The smell of death clung to me like dirt, it clung like the memories and like everything else around me. I felt the faint pangs of hunger, and as I walked the pebbled streets, I tried to remember what food actually tasted like... but I couldn't. The only flavor etched in my memory was that of my own sweat, my own tears and blood, and dirt...

As I reached the corner, I leaned up against the wall of a building and closed my eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "Mommy? Can I hold him this time? Can I? I promise I'll be careful. I can feed him, and hold the bottle and- and- I can burp him too just like you taught me. Mommy please?" I swallowed hard and rested my head against the wall, letting the rough surface grace my cheek as the memories began to rush back in... "Please... please don't hurt my baby! Please I beg you! Please don't hurt him! Please! He's just a little baby..." Her screams echoed like ghosts as the baby was torn... piece by piece. I tried to punch the memory out of me, tried to scratch it out some how, but just like a river overflowing and raging out of control, the memories flooded my every waking thought. And then-- and then her voice simply melted away, but the images didn't, and the more I tried to push them away the deeper I fell into my own dreams.

Just breathe... just breathe... just breathe...

After the worst had passed, my own memories were replaced by the memories of others- like... me. I could see their lives through my own eyes, and I could hear their voices. So loud like drums, so loud like the roaring thunder. And the more I tried to escape, to run away from them, the more the memories followed. There was only death... always death-- those memories, those dreams always ended that way. "Nowhere to run little one. Time to die..." My fingertips lightly touched the rough surface of the wall- it was the only thing that kept me from falling deep into the abyss, the only thing that made me feel somewhat real. I made my hands into fists and with my eyes still closed I began to punch the wall, again, and again, and again, but I felt no pain, there was only the dull sensation of the warm sticky blood that began to flow from my knuckles.

Slowly, some of the images began to fade-- I opened my eyes and took a deep breath as I tried to forget... forget and focus on anything but the dreams or the memories. As I looked up ahead of me I realized that there was something... or someone in the distance. I began to blink and slowly the memories began to creep in once more, making it difficult to focus, making it hard to tell between night and day- and what had been. I took a few more steps and saw as the figure grin, like a dog growling with a cigarette between his teeth. Something about him looked familiar... something about his face, the way he leaned up against the wall, under the streetlight. Daylight had turned into nighttime as he stood there. Time didn't seem to exist any more. And as he played with the lighter, flickering on and off, the light from the flame made it seem like he had a bad light in his eyes even though all around it was dark. He made a show out of taking out his lighter and lighting the tip of the cigarette, almost as if though he had to "make a show" of it.

Demon. Vampire. Evil. Must be destroyed, turn to dust...

I stood so still at first, but only at first, and then- slowly, I began to make my way towards the figure. He didn't move for the longest time, as if though he hadn't seen me coming. But I was cautious. I began to blink a few more times, trying to focus, and like a snap of a finger, night turned into day. I couldn't tell what was real anymore, everything just seemed to melt again. I closed my eyes for just a second, trying to regain some control, trying to push everything else aside to focus and when I opened them again I found myself in the dark once more... the figure in the distance- staring back at me... it's yellow eyes unmistakable, looking at me menacingly. I clutched the stake tighter and quickened my pace as I tried to cover the distance between us.

The figure took another drag of the cigarette and began to move, so fast like a cat... slipping away in the into the darkness. But I was on the hunt. I couldn't let evil like that slip away, I had to slay it, destroy it, rid the world of it-- it was my destiny... I followed him, followed him right into a narrow street, where it was dark and cold. I didn't have to see him to know exactly where he was... I could smell the cigarette in the air. So I followed, through the dark, watching, waiting to make my move. Soon, there would be nothing left of him, nothing but dust.

Within seconds I managed to close the gap between us. There was nowhere else for him to go. As he turned around, a look of surprise covered his face. I frowned and tilted my head slightly before driving the stake through his heart.

...Stab the heart... Keep cutting until you see dust...

He screamed... it was loud, but it was over just as soon as it begun. And there was no dust, there was nothing but the blood that poured from him. Keep cutting... keep cutting... 'till you see dust. And so I did... until he was unrecognizable. Until there was nothing of the demon left. Until there was nothing but blood. In the distance I could hear voices.. screams... but it meant nothing to me... nothing.

Slowly I got up and turned to look at the crowd that had gathered in the distance. They didn't seem so real, they didn't seem to be there at all, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to shake the vision... I thought I'd find some kind of peace in the darkness of my own mind, but I only found more pain and more buried memories that melted so closely together that it left me with a sudden rage and fear and confusion. I opened my eyes once more and looked at the blood that covered my hands... my life as always filled with blood, like my dreams.

Finally, and without turning back, I continued on, with no direction, following dreams that seemed so real... so tangible, even thought they weren’t my own.