Tale of A Slayer - Spirit.of.the.Stars. (best way to read books TXT) 📗

Introduction:

This story here is based on the Buffy the Vampire Slayer world but features new and original characters that I made up so Buffy and friends do not make any appearance whatsoever here. The story is about a previous Vampire Slayer named Rhianne and the struggles and hardships she goes through while trying to avenge her Watcher’s death by a deadly demon. This is a very angst-filled and tragic story that also features blood and violence. The story is rated T because of the blood, gore and some descriptions of violence depicted within. Basically Rhianne is hell-bent on revenge and will stop at nothing to kill her foe even if it means her death. I hope readers will enjoy reading this as much as I had fun writing this story.


-Tale of A Slayer-

The young girl was poised in a battle position. She readied her sword and slashed it at the wooden practice dummy in front of her, her movements quick and precise, methodically bringing her weapon to strike over and over again at the target.

The time period was late 18th century England, the age of the Scientific Revolution. It was a time of scientific discoveries and that of warfare which ravaged throughout Europe. Women’s roles in this day were the simple responsibilities of everyday household duties: cooking, cleaning and the like. It was unheard of for a woman to be skilled in the arts of war and yet, the Slayer was the exception.

The Slayer had discovered her calling some time ago, at the mere age of twelve, now aged nineteen. She was bound to a destiny to stave off the various evils which the people of this time were blissfully ignorant about.

The night air was chilly outside, stars sprinkled about in the raven-black sky. The Slayer, Rhianne trained in the private crumbling shack perfecting her fighting skills. Her long red hair whipped about her as she moved, her movements fluid and calculated. Brown eyes, dark like the bark of trees, narrowed in concentration as she relentlessly pushed herself to practice her moves.

In her line of work, there was no room for mistakes or failure. Her very life depended on her ability to fight the darkness that she was chosen to battle against and to protect the innocent. She either fought or died trying. The Slayer she was, champion against the forces of evil, hand-picked by Fate to remove the existence of the very monsters and demons that threatened the whole of humanity. Losing was not an option if she wanted to survive.

In her mind, the memories were still fresh from the painful images which almost constantly shoved their way into her head as she forcefully tried to push them back out of her thoughts. Rhianne could still recall the brutal death of her Watcher at the hands, or claws rather, of the monstrous being, an arch-demon called Borthezedar. Rhianne had tried to save her but was at the time, engaged in combat with a horde of vampires and was unable to get to her in time. Thus, she still felt guilt and pain. These emotions washed over her fully as her mind was drawn back to that unfortunate incident.

(Flashback)

“Rhianne!” a terrified voice called out above the fray.

Rhianne stopped for a brief second and froze. Her Watcher Celia, was tightly gripped around the throat, her feet dangling off the ground held in mid-air by Borthezedar. The fear and sheer terror Rhianne saw in Celia’s eyes was absolutely heart-wrenching.

“Rhianne.” Celia whispered softly.

“Don’t worry Celia, I’m coming!!”

Rhianne continued kicking out and punching the many vampires that stood between her and her Watcher. The fear Rhianne felt was only matched by her frenzied attacks at the vampires as she struggled to get to Celia in time. She could not, would not lose her only friend. The only one she felt she could talk to, have decent conversations with, the only one who understood her and her role as the Slayer. The one who had helped her get as far as she had. She owed it to Celia to release her from that monstrosity. If only she could get there in enough time, just maybe…….

“Say goodbye to your dear Watcher, Slayer.” the demon bellowed.

Celia closed her eyes in fright, waiting for the inevitable. Rhianne’s attacks became even more fierce and with a final battle cry, she launched out a powerful kick to the last remaining vampire, sending it falling to the ground. She wasted no time and promptly dusted the creature.

Just then, a horrified shriek filled the air just as Rhianne looked up. She was ready to dash over to help her friend, when the unthinkable happened.

“Noooooooooo!!!!!!!!” Rhianne screamed out.

The flashback ended.

Rhianne stood still, breathing heavily as the images faded from her mind. She had gotten to Celia only to witness the foul arch-demon rip off her Watcher’s head, blood and gristle spraying everywhere from her untimely demise. The arch-demon was laughing in a deep, guttural tone as he brandished Celia’s head in front of him.

Time seemed to stop in that moment for Rhianne. Freezing in utmost horror and shock, she had watched her one and only friend be killed right in front of her. The air around Rhianne was still, dead and lifeless, reminiscent of the gruesome death she had just witnessed. Not knowing what else to do she turned and ran, out of fear and grief, angry tears threatening to fall with each maddened sprint she took. She ran far away from the demon, his laughter in the distance echoing all around the secluded wooded area. He had not bothered to give chase and for that, Rhianne felt immense relief.

Now, as she hacked away at the wooden straw dummy, her eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. Angry at herself for her cowardice, she should have at least tried to fight the arch-demon. Her Watcher deserved at least that. If she had died in the process, so be it. Another slayer would have risen up and taken her place. Now she had to deal with her misery and despair.

Refusing to allow the fear to permeate her mind, she allowed the anger to strengthen and power each movement and thrust of the sword. She could not afford that weakness, not now. Not ever. Not if she wanted to avenge her Watcher’s death. Her life was difficult and bloody but most of all, her life was filled with loneliness. A slayer led a very secluded and isolated life; apart from her Watcher she had had no friends and virtually no family. The only family she had was her cold and stern father who was unyielding in his ways and views.

The Watcher’s Council had decided to assign Rhianne another Watcher but Rhianne to their surprise, had declined. She was too much in grief over Celia’s death and didn’t feel ready for another Watcher just yet. Besides she didn’t want to be responsible for another person’s death as she had already failed Celia. Afraid of events repeating themselves, Rhianne had firmly refused their offer. This was something she had to do alone, to redeem herself and avenge her friend’s death was the gruesome task she alone must carry out. Celia had taught and trained her well, so Rhianne also felt that she was more than ready to confront the foe who had so mercilessly taken Celia’s life. All the long, hard hours of training had paid off, and Rhianne felt ready to take this final step. Perhaps if Rhianne weren’t so stubborn about refusing another Watcher, things might have turned out differently for her in the end. Maybe, maybe not. Fate is sometimes difficult to predict as there are many paths to take, many choices to be made. One small decision could affect something major further on in the long-run. So who could say what Rhianne’s ultimate destiny was to be. As it stands, Rhianne’s pain and grief blinded her to the point of acting in a suicidal manner. So hell-bent she was on taking out this arch-demon, she inadvertently sealed her own fate. Her options as a result, were considerably smaller. But Rhianne failed to see this as she relentlessly trained her muscles and body to practice, almost to the brink of exhaustion. But she continued on, never stopping, never faltering. She’d be damned if she let her tiredness get the better of her.

Resolving to wreak vengeance upon the monstrosity that had taken away her one and only friend, she had only one goal in mind. A single purpose, that she vowed to fulfill. Her mission was not easy, nor had it ever been. Destroying this creature was the only thing that drove her onwards nowadays. Nothing else mattered.

Rain started to pour down, soaking the grass; making it gleam in the silver moonlight. Thunder soon followed, the sound of it matching her stance of determination and the emptiness she felt deep inside.

In the blackness of the night, she swore to herself that she would fight and kill Borthezedar or die by his hands. It was a promise to herself that she never abandoned.

XXXX

As she stood in the ballroom, Rhianne surveyed the room and the people in it. Garbed in a night-blue gown with wispy lace weaved within the dress, the Slayer was alone amongst the crowd. Feeling apathy and sorrow fill her, she thought about retiring to her bed chamber, change into her Slayer attire, and work off the tensions she was feeling by doing some simple slaying. This is what her life consisted of. Normal noble girl by day, Slayer by night. Meaningless household chores during the sunlit hours with ballroom dancing in the early evening, followed by blood and gore in the dark hours of the night is what her day-to-day lifestyle encompassed. The hours she spent fighting were when Rhianne felt the most alive with a purpose, though it was a profession that never ended well. Those dark hours symbolized the utter darkness that was her life. It was a lonely existence indeed.

About to head on over to the stairway, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, as a soft, deep voice asked, “ May I have this dance, milady?”

Rhianne turned around to see a young man with dark brown hair and gray colored eyes standing behind her. Wordlessly, she nodded and tried to force a smile on her face as she curtsied. “You may, kind sir.” she said, her voice somewhat flat and devoid of emotion.

The gentleman led her to the center of the ballroom and they danced together, the light from the silvery orb of the moon shining through the tall windows that were framed with ornate drapes. Onward Rhianne danced, her heart not really in the moment as she glided gracefully across the floor.

XXXX

The Slayer was on her nightly patrol.

Moving through the darkened streets, Rhianne held her wooden stake gripped tightly in her hand. In the pack slung over her shoulder she carried extra weaponry: two extra stakes, a vial of holy water, and her sword.

She was moving about cautiously, her Slayer senses sharpened and alert, waiting