She turned in his direction and he received his first full glimpse of her face. Luke had been right; she was lovely. Much prettier than the last one of her kind. Her dark gold hair was pulled up and back in an elaborate coiffure, several wayward tendrils escaping to frame her pale face. Eyes, the rich color of polished jade, glittered in the light of a thousand candles scattered about his home.

His prison.

The Slayer was here to release him from this infernal bondage.

No wonder Darla had been so jealous of this girl. Both beautiful, both dangerous, Darla had let her hatred deter her from her task. It had gotten her killed and by the very man she had been fighting for.

All for naught.

This girl, barely out of diapers, a child poised on the brink of a womanhood she would not live to experience, paused at the bottom of the steps carved into the rock. She cocked her head to one side and lifted the loaded crossbow in her hands to chest level. She scanned the cavern with wary eyes.

He smiled in pleasure and finally spoke.

"Welcome."

She jerked her head up, scanning the cavern for the origin of the voice. "Thanks for having me."

"Mi casa su casa, as the original settlers of this miserable little town might've said," the Master said as he materialized from the deepened shadows.

He realized his mistake a split second later and only his lightning-fast reflexes prevented him from becoming a memory drifting in the breeze blowing through the cavern. She spun gracefully, her dress swirling around her legs. Lifting the crossbow held so loosely in her hands, she fired a single bolt from the gun. Its path was true and accurate and, had he not lifted his hand and caught the deadly missile in mid-air, he would have been well and truly staked.

"Nice shot."

"It won't be the last," she murmured to herself, keeping one eye on his position. She was reloading the weapon and the second bolt jammed. Briefly, she looked down and then back up. But, her inattention proved her enemy. He slipped back into the shadows.

She frantically redoubled her efforts, succeeding in sliding the bolt into place. Lifting her head with a confidence she wasn't feeling, the Slayer scanned the crumbling cavern for her prey. Subliminally, she registered the earthquake damaged ruins of the once-majestic church that now was a most unholy dwelling for this depraved creature.

From his vantage point on a darkened ledge several feet above the Slayer, the Master smiled. He could easily read her thoughts; such a young Slayer, she was, and unseasoned in resisting his mind-intrusion.

"So, how do you like my prison, little one? Quaint, is it not?" he whispered, the sound echoing easily in the vast cave.

The Slayer spun in place, searching for the source of the disembodied voice. The butt of the crossbow rested against her shoulder as she sighted down the barrel. "Yeah, nice digs. It's amazing what one can do with a few well-placed candles and some moldy old furniture. My mom would call it ambiance."

The ancient vampire laughed, a chilling sound that raised the fine hair on the Slayer's arms. "You have a very sharp tongue for one of such tender years! When I was your age, many centuries ago, a child would be beaten senseless for such insolence."

"Well, that's what you get for being a bloodsucking creep. The world just up and passes you by," she said, the confidence returning to her voice as she moved deeper into his hideaway.

"Did you say goodbye to your mommy before you came here?"

The girl faltered, catching the toe of her white shoe in the hem of her dress. She paused, stooping slightly to loosen it, all the while keeping the crossbow at the ready. "No need. I'll see her tonight."

Laughter reverberated through the cavern and the girl cringed, wanting nothing more than to clap her hands over her ears to drown out the malevolent sound.

"I know your thoughts, girl! You said goodbye to your mother and to your Watcher and to the pretty little redhead, whose tears you dried not an hour ago! You know now as you did then, you are not returning to the surface alive!" the Master yelled gleefully. He stepped into the light and the Slayer instinctively looked up at him. The barrel of her weapon swung up smoothly and she fired.

The bolt went wide and the vampire took one step to the edge of the overhang and jumped. It was every bit a thirty or forty foot drop, but he landed with the grace of a feline, in virtual silence. Two steps took him to her side.

Staring at him with widened eyes, she fumbled with the crossbow. The Master knocked it from her hands with one sweep of his arm. She swung at him, her tiny fist connecting with the side of his head with surprising strength. His head snapped back painfully, but he only chuckled.

Before he could lay his hands on her, she aimed a kick at his kneecap, shattering the bone. His left leg crumpled under him and he cursed to himself for underestimating the little Slayer.

There was precious little room to maneuver, so she slipped under his reaching arm and ran. Whirling around, fury turning his vampire countenance into something truly hideous, the Master stretched out his hand, beckoningly. Like a whip, he entered her mind, insinuating his own thoughts around hers. Paralyzed, she froze in place.

"Come here, child," he whispered.

As she slowly turned to face him, terror was etched in every line of her beautiful face. She took halting steps towards him, her mind struggling against his spectral hold. A delighted smile split his ridged white face and his long fangs gleamed yellow in the flickering candlelight. Ah, but she would be as sweet as vintage wine!

When she was close, he wrapped one hand around her throat, feeling the throb of her pulse against his palm; the jackhammer beat of her heart was loud in the otherwise silent cavern. He leaned close to her, his glowing red eyes boring into her horrified green ones. "Have you said your prayers, little one? Not that it matters. The Almighty turns a deaf ear to the damned."

Tears splashed on his hand and he smiled, with the tenderness of a lover. "Tears for me, Slayer? Do they taste as sweet as they smell?"

In answer to his own question, the Master licked the side of her face, catching her tears on his cold, rasping tongue. A moan of despair issued from her throat.

"I'm going to enjoy having you at my side for all eternity. Yes! I see the surprise in your eyes. You thought I would just kill you and take this miserable town as mine."

He paused, cocking his head as if thinking hard about something. "Yes...I need someone to replace my beloved Darla, betrayed so viciously by your housebroken vampire lover. Angel was my greatest achievement and you stole him away."

"I-I'm going t-to k-kill you!" the girl managed to say, rage and fear coalescing into one powerful emotion.

The Master tightened his grip, just enough to keep her silent. She tried to move her arms, to reach up and claw his hand free, but she remained captive.

"How surprised he will be when he sees what you've become! His jealousy will burn white-hot when he realizes that his prize is, and ever shall be, mine."

He let go of her neck and she dragged in a needed breath. With gentle hands, he turned her so that she faced away from him. His clawed hands peeled the black leather jacket from her shoulders, baring her golden skin to the damp, rank air. He trailed his fingers along her flesh, his icy touch leaving behind goosebumps.

"You have no reason to be afraid; it will be over in seconds. Brief pain, then the greatest ecstasy you will ever know. That is what it is like to die," the Master whispered in her ear. "It's you, Buffy Summers. Yes, darling, I know your name. It is spoken with fear by vampires near and far. You are the catalyst, you know. If not for you, I would not walk free this night."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Buffy asked in a voice breathless with terror.

The Master guided her a few steps to the right until her thighs bumped the side of the destroyed altar. He pushed her forward until she lay on her stomach on the filthy, blood-stained surface. She choked down the bile that threatened to spill out.

"If you hadn't have come here this night, if you had done as your common sense told you, I would remain trapped in this blasphemous hell. You will set me free!"

He stared down at his captive, at her smooth back exposed by the white satin bodice of her gown. He let his gaze fall to the soft swell of her hips under the yards of filmy chiffon. Black lust filled him as he imagined what it would be like to imbed himself in her virginal body, taking her with violent passion.

It was a feeling he hadn't allowed himself to feel in over eighty years.

"You will be the perfect mate. Beautiful and soft and powerful. Welcome to your new life, my beloved Buffy," he said as he knelt on his now-healed knee and caught the hem of her gown in his hands, pushing the fabric up the back of her legs.

Buffy tried in vain to break free of the hold that he had on her body and mind, but he was too strong. Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she realized what he had in store for her. Even now, she could feel his claws moving between her thighs, pushing her white dress up over her hips. She gasped in pain as his fingers wrapped around the delicate satin of her panties and ripped them from her body. The elastic tore into her skin, droplets of scarlet blood seeping from the wounds.

The Master smiled in anxious desire. The smell of her blood mixed with the scent of her fear and of her sex, overwhelmed him with corrupt need. He forced her legs apart with his leather-clad ones while reaching a hand between her thighs. He slid one finger within her delicate cleft, finding her dry. Closing his eyes, he forced impure thoughts into her mind, carnal thoughts of himself, of Angel, images calculated to give him the response he wanted from her.

Buffy screamed hoarsely when she comprehended his motives. "NONONONO!!!! Oh God, please!"

"God isn't here for you, Slayer. But, I am."

With one hand, he unfastened his pants, releasing his throbbing erection. He replaced his fingers with his cock, not entering her, but rubbing against her moistening flesh. Unwillingly, she pushed back, lifting her hips for his invasion. He touched her hair, his fingers pulling the silky mass free from its glamorous chignon. It spilled over her back like a golden blanket, each strand shimmering in the candleglow.

Buffy was sobbing incoherently now, her despair like a symphony to his ears. The Master reached down and gripped Buffy's hips in his talons, lifting her up in readiness.

"Tell me what you want, Slayer," he whispered.

"N-n-n-no, please don't do this, I b-b-beg y-y-you!"

He pushed his cock against her virgin channel, feeling her muscles contract. "Tell me, Buffy, tell me what you need."

"Oh...no...please...I need...I need...you," she whispered, completely broken and under his control.

Triumphant, he surged forward with a savage howl. He thrust into her tight body, forcing his cock through the puny reminder of her virginity. Buffy screamed, her voice mingling with his.

"Ahhh, yes! Precious virtue, mine now, all mine!" he groaned as he buried himself to the hilt in her resistant body. He pulled out of her, then thrust again, holding her hips at an angle guaranteed to permit him the deepest access.

Buffy's screams faded to whimpers of agony as the Master violated her innocent body. He was not small, by any means, and the pain of his entry made her clench on him, involuntarily adding to his pleasure. He began to move inside her, rocking his hips against her bottom. His claws dug into the flesh of her thighs, tiny rivulets of blood running between his fingers.

After generations of forced celibacy, the Master was in vile ecstasy. He pounded into the Slayer's warm body, reveling in the sensations denied to him for so long. Encased in her slick, velvety passage, he knew that he had chosen well. This girl would serve him well for all their forevers. She would kneel at his feet in eternal penance, awaiting his depraved punishment. And, oh, the punishments he would devise for her!

Only the best for his Buffy.

If she hadn't been laying on the altar, Buffy would have collapsed minutes ago. She lay quietly, her arms stretched out at right angles to her abused body, each wrist now held in the Master's hands. Her cheek lay against the rotten wood, the smell of dried blood on the surface not even fazing her. She withdrew completely into her own mind, shutting out the horror being inflicted on her.

So caught up in his own pleasure was he, that the vampire didn't even realize she had faded away, mentally, leaving an emotionless shell to be defiled. He continued to fuck her, his cock pistoning in her tiny body. He threw back his head and shrieked the cry of the damned as his orgasm took him. He thrust into her once more and emptied his cold seed into her womb. His ice-cold cock twitched and throbbed as he spent his passion.

Buffy didn't resist as he grabbed a handful of her dark blonde hair and pulled her head up. Without any warning, he lunged forward, sinking his sharp incisors into her throat. Buffy stiffened and opened her mouth as if to scream, but no sound issued forth.

The Master drank deeply, the raw power of her Slayer's blood filling him with unimagined delight. He tore even further into her neck until blood, so crimson it appeared in black, spilled from her lips. It ran in a river down the front of her dress, soaking into the white satin.

Holding her in a lover's embrace, he fed until she was nearly drained. Raising his wrist to his mouth, the Master bit hard. He then pressed his wrist, bleeding a mixture of his blood and hers, to her mouth.

She offered a moment's resistance, but in her very weakened state, she was no match for him. With a sigh sounding very like a death rattle, Buffy parted her lips and fastened them around his wrist. When she tasted her future, she sucked hard on him, letting the cold fluid fill her mouth.

A smile split his features as he watched his newest victim feed from him. With his hand, he caressed her hair. "Yes, my beloved, drink your fill! Then, you'll sleep."

When he heard her heartbeat slow to an almost nonexistent echo, the Master once more bent his head to her throat. This time he drained her completely, holding her until she stopped breathing.

A moment later, her heart stopped.

She was dead.

Maniacal laughter filled the chamber as the vampire renewed his lust, taking his pleasure in the rapidly chilling body of the dead Slayer.

Soon, she would walk the night and sit at his side while he ruled this miserable world.

They would rule together.

The End

<< back