Fanfiction: Movements of a Fractured Mind
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon, et. al, are the owners. I simply write non-profit work. NOTE: I wrote this as a simple way to dive into Faith’s character and explore it a little bit.
All of her clothes had blood on them. She didn’t have money to buy new ones. She washed them in the sink, scrubbing the crimson stains off of her white wife beater. Hypnotically she watched her hands dip in and out of the red water, even darker bubbles forming. The lather of the soap turned red and no matter how much soap she put on it it didn’t help. She kept squirting more and more soap onto the cloth. Timing herself on how long it took for it to turn red, every scrub just passing the time until nightfall, when she was truly alive.
She might as well be a vampire. Day time had no meaning to her what so ever. Night time was when she went clubbing and slaying. Her life wasn’t spent going to school or talking to friends. It was spent in her small motel room, scrubbing her blood stained clothes and thinking about scooby gang meetings and what the next apocalypse might be. Some new demon that could be running about, they wouldn’t tell her. She would be left clueless and if the demon succeeded in killing her they’ll notice but won’t care. That wasn’t going to happen. Just a month or two of spurting blood and she was the master at what she did.
Natural Sunnydale heat was scratching at her, under her skin. Lack of air conditioning had trickles of sweat slithering down her forehead like unwanted snakes in a rose garden.
The skin on her finger tips and hands was wrinkled by now, each little wave a symbol for the fractures in her mind. Noticeable cracks in the skin, courtesy of carving stake after stake every night, were now red with her own blood. The blood she washed off of her clothes every day, scrubbing and timing and waiting for light to disappear and darkness to take over.
She danced like the devil’s pretty little whore, her hips swaying in a sinister, wrong way. Anyone who stumbled across her destructive path were left in a frozen state of mind, where no one, nothing, moved.. except her. Her movements were that of a reprobate vampire, her body wrapped up in pale skin, dark crimson dancing on her lips. Hypnotizing, to say the least. She knew what affect she had on people. It was a talent, she used it. It was her weapon.
Time was nothing to her but it flew by. People left and some people came. Show out harlots tried to dance with her, outdo her moves but not one of them could. From man to man she went, giving them a small taste of her intoxication before disappearing into the crowd to leave them speechless and wondering.
The world fell away. Demons did not exist, her past was not her past and her body was the body of a goddess. A dirty, dirty little goddess.
Chestnut hair swayed on her shoulders, tossed into the air by her hands alone, where it fell around her neck in a seductive, tonic way. She didn’t try to get any attention, oh no, it would come to her soon enough. It always did. All she had to do was crook her finger or jerk her head and they were hers. Little slaves gathered for the after life, her little slaves. Following willingly. No longer did she feel like the pathetic slut at the big man’s feet. She was the master.
As time passed by she became bored with her unknowing victims. A forbidden tug on the lips with her pearly white teeth was the only farewell she would give before abandoning them and leaving the only worth it club in Sunnydale. It was unusually cold, icy wind blowing at her face and whipping her already tussled hair back.
She somehow sensed the evil of the small town.. it was everywhere she went. She wondered if anyone else could.. anyone who wasn’t a slayer.
“Faith.”
A voice, never friendly to her, rang in her ears and made her look at the person who called her name.
“I was looking for you.” The blonde would say, the obvious lies behind her eyes stinging a place deep down inside. The place she liked to keep hidden within herself.
You bitch. Faith would think, fists clenching and nails digging into her wrists so hard that she felt as if the veins could bust. You liar.
“Here I am.” She took in a deep breath and let it out, calming herself.
“I wanted to talk to you.”
And there it was, the words she expected to hear from the manipulating mouth of a lying bitch. Her entire soul fell.. falling inside of her, screaming, and landing somewhere dark and frightening. Disappointment, malice, betrayal, it all bubbled in her throat. Boiling water making her blackened heart steam with hatred.
“And I don’t want to talk.” Don’t say it, don’t you dare fucking say it. “Faith, we need to—” Pushing. You’re always pushing. Don’t know when to fucking mind your own goddamn business.
“We don’t need to do anything.” Faith hissed, using all of the strength in her body to keep from striking out and giving the other slayer a piece of her mind. Not that there was much to give.. it was all gone. All gone to insanity.
“Faith, please!”
She paused, staring at Buffy with darkest death behind her eyes.
“I don’t talk.”
Then her world turned red.
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