Chapter 4: Gone

Title: Damaged Souls
Character(s): Dana (a vampire slayer)
Warnings: Violence
Pairings: None
Fandom: Angel the Series
Word count: 1,389
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 4: Gone

"No! No! Per favore! Non fare questo! Non fare questo... Aiutilo! Qualcuno aiuta! Per favore!"

I kept driving the stake into his chest, making him suffer for every time that I had suffered. His screams filled the alley and echoed back. I was only delaying the inevitable as I drove the stake trough his legs and arms and then- and then dealt the final blow to the heart, stepping back as I waited for him to turn to dust, just like the one before, but there was only blood. Blood everywhere... my vision cleared again, and it was no longer clouded with memories of the past, and as I watched him twist and turn in the pool of his own blood- I wanted to make his suffering stop. I wanted to take it back. Take it all back. He was not him... he was just... but his face- his face was the same as the nightmare and I felt the veil of the past cloud my judgment again, and I couldn't drown the rage that began to boil up to the surface. He was crying and coughing, his hands clutching his chest as he pleaded with me- but I... I just stood there, looking at him. He hadn't stopped for me when I pleaded, when I begged, when I cried and screamed. He never stopped, he just kept breaking me into a million pieces, until the pain and the fear paralyzed me and there was nothing more to feel but the cold, and the silence of death.

"Per favore... Non lasciarme muore qui. Non... non..." The voice was almost as low as a whisper now, barely audible. Barely anything at all- and then- and then... there was nothing left but a body with the most peaceful of expressions on its face. His suffering was over now- and mine, mine was just beginning.

Slowly I stepped away, as his blood began to fill the alley. I could see my own trail of foot prints as I backed further and further away. Slowly they began to fade and blend into the pebbles and dirt. Suddenly I could feel the makeshift stake cutting into my own flesh as I clutch it tight, so tight that my knuckles began to turn white and the distinct crunch of the wood made a loud enough sound for me to snap out of the daze and haze. I let the broken stake drop to the floor and looked at my hand, my own blood running down my arm and mixing with his and then dampening my sleeve where the blood from a previous kill had already long dried off.

"Just breathe..." And I tried, but the air felt hot, hot like lava- or like the sun. "Count backwards..." Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five... four... three...

And just like that, I was running... running from everything I wanted to forget. Trying to run away from what I was, from the present, from my past, from the ghosts that screamed in my head day and night. Nothing looked the same anymore, there were no more white walls, and there was no more darkness, no more hard floors and cold rooms. There were just the voices, and the images of the nightmares that haunted me. I didn't know if I was alive or dead anymore. I didn't know what was real. And sometimes the images in my mind were so vivid that I could almost taste the moment of death, and feel it as it happened. And then I was lost in darkness only to be reborn again, a hunter... a hunter of all that was evil. But I hadn't asked for this, I hadn't asked for any of this. I was just... I just wanted... I wasn't sure of what I wanted. There was only death- that was the only thing that I was sure of anymore.

Just run... run... run... don't look back.

I could hear the voices in the distance and they were starting to catch up with me again. Soon they would drown me and I would be lost one more time. And I tried to fight it. I really tried to, but they were so close, so close to me again. I needed to drown the voices somehow, I needed to... Make. Them. Stop. I brought my hands to my ears, but it didn't help. Somehow I missed a step, and fell. I didn't bother getting up and for a moment I felt like I was home again, I felt a tiny bit of peace, but then I looked up and I realized that the past was long gone and I was no longer out in the streets. There were no more skies, there was just a vast empty space, full of dust and scattered pieces of... I couldn't tell. Suddenly I felt a slight twinge in the pit of my stomach; it was an overwhelming feeling that made all the madness disappear in an instant... I felt my head tilt to one side almost awkwardly as the feeling washed over me. I was being followed. Instincts began to take over, instincts as old as the earth itself. I began to get up slowly, and the feeling grew; and there were no more voices, no more fears, no more doubts, everything seemed so clear, there was just the certainty of what it was that I had to do. To cut, to kill, to rid the world of all that was evil, and destroy the vampire that had perhaps followed me through the narrow streets and into this building like my own shadow of death.

Out of nowhere I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder, holding me in place. Inhuman, cold... and then there was the sound of a predatory voice. "Andando in qualche luogo, Bella? Potrei sentirlo l'odore un miglio via. Voi anima così potente, denominandolo a voi."

My heart began to race, and I felt a smile crossing my face. The excitement building up inside of me, filling me up, making me feel like I- like I- belonged. As if though I- had- a destiny to fulfill. I turned around to face him, and he stepped back, startled. "Slayer!" He hissed. I tilted my head again and quickly grabbed him by the neck, tossing him hard against the wall. I got so close to him... so close, as his eyes grew wide. Vampires could always smell fear; in humans, they could taste it even before they tasted the blood, and just like them, I could too. So many lifetimes lived, so much death around me- I knew fear, I lived it, tasted it, and made it my own... He was afraid, I could feel him trembling under my grip, and I got closer, close enough to kiss his cheek. But all I did was smell him, take his fear inside of me. And he smelled of death and a mixture of alcohol and cigarettes. He kept trying to hit me, but what was pain to me? Pain was nothing.

"Your suffering is just the end," I said to him. "Mine is only beginning." I was holding him so tight now, so tight that he couldn't even respond. Finally I tossed him across the room and he landed in what looked like a pile of old clothes and furniture. He tried to get up and get away but I jumped, landing on top of him, and breaking his neck in one swift move. His cries echoed inside the building, they were so loud I could almost feel the vibrations of his shrieks inside of me. I looked around for anything that I could use as a stake and saw a small table not to far from where he had landed. With a kick, I broke it into pieces and grabbed one of the larger pieces that had scattered.

"...until you see dust..." Slowly, I drove the stake into his heart and just like that he was no more. His suffering had ended fast in a big cloud of dust. Yet mine... mine... It's not over yet. I closed my eyes, letting the silence wrap itself around me. "...this is only the beginning." I said in a whisper, and ran back out. Out into the world, out to face my demons once again.