Temerity
A moment that took weeks to prepare for, seemingly over in an instant.

Samantha felt a pang of regret as she stood before 14 slaughtered bodies, blood strewn about the sacrificial chamber. Tiny body parts littered the floor, the remains of children whose names the fallen Slayer didn’t even know. Samantha didn’t feel sorry for killing them – no, she was just sorry it was over as soon as it was.

They took her son away, then arrested her. So in one fleeting moment, the Slayer lost both her family and her job, leaving her with nothing. So when Atia broke her out of prison, with the caveat that Samantha sacrifice the children in order to find out who framed her, the Slayer didn’t think twice before accepting. The fact that Atia was a being of pure corruption didn’t matter; even at this moment, Samantha felt the darkness coarse through her veins.

And like the human muscle digesting in her gut, it made the Slayer feel good.

“I would deliver the remains to their parents if I could,” the Slayer whispered. “Just to see the light of hope die from their eyes once they saw their offspring reduced to a lifeless puddle.”

"Mmm. You mustn't concern yourself with this offal. Let the crows have it. You were ... most impressive."

Atia's mood had improved considerably since her confrontation with Rhiannon, and her internal mood detector had swung back to the 'sane' setting. Everything was going according to plan, and she could feel Leviathan's approval humming inside her skull. The girl was a fool, as she had said. Samantha Blanchard had fulfilled her end of the bargain and sealed her own spiritual doom; now it was her turn to reciprocate by pouring gas on a situation that had burned down to embers.

"Come. Sit with me for a moment. We should speak of what had been troubling you before. You've acquitted yourself so admirably, you deserve a reward." The Corruptress lounged back on the throne she'd been reclining in during the sacrifices, patted her lap.

Was the Slayer capable of that full-on rage anymore? They'd find out.

Watching Atia in silence, Samantha took a seat on the blood-soaked floor, sitting Indian-style and relaxing the grip on her blade. She licked blood from the tip, closing her eyes to savor the flavor. Children’s blood was sweeter to the Slayer – probably the purity and the innocence of it.

Innocence Samantha took pleasure in destroying.

A task that at first seemed morally impossible was now disturbingly simple. Samantha killed those children without a second thought, and even at this moment, her thoughts were of bloodshed and horror, not of exacting revenge on the one who put her behind bars to begin with. Though that would have its own particular brand of fun, it was no longer the Slayer’s focus.

“They are beneath even the crows …”

The blonde's distraction was slightly annoying, and Atia wondered exactly what it would take to slap her out of it. She lounged back a little further, crossing one leg over the other, skimmed the surface of Samantha's thoughts. Did the child exist in her mind at all?

"I've been considering the matter of your son," she began. "Terrible that he should be away from you for so long. I should imagine that the other is having quite a time with him." She regarded the ceiling of the ritual chamber, letting her own thoughts spiral out aimlessly.

"I wonder if he's learned to call her 'mother' yet."

Samantha’s eyes grew darker still. “The other?” she mused. “What other?!”

Cory had been adopted already? How long had Samantha been gone? Samantha was pretty much resigned to the reality of never seeing her son again, but to hear that someone else was raising him and playing the role of mommy was one of the few things to break through the monster and actually touch Samantha emotionally.

And she didn’t like it one bit.

“I’ll drink her blood and use her bones as toothpicks.”

"A child's a precious thing." Atia was staring dreamily at the ceiling, drawing a meaningless pattern on the arm of the mahogany throne. "Provided they don't grow up to devour us, that is. Motherhood is ... part blessing and part curse. I can't imagine the suffering you must have gone through."

Do I have you undivided attention yet, you little beast?

"Likely she took it as a reminder of the woman she was. A way to complete her own life's circle, despite being on the wrong side of the grave. To take one last thing from you and make it her own."

Red hair spilled over her shoulders as Atia righted herself in the huge chair, leaning forward with her hands clasped to stare directly at Sam. "Did you not know? Not even suspect?"

The Slayer’s gaze narrowed for a moment, her eyes looking at Atia but not really seeing the Corruptress. Samantha’s mind filled with images of Grace, a beast of a vampire with no fashion sense and even fewer manners. At some point, the Slayer had perhaps suspected the vampire of being the one pulling the strings on the whole affair, but of late, she hadn’t really given it much thought.

“Grace …” Samantha growled, her grip against tightening on the bloody blade.

It made perfect sense, given how Grace seemed to have it in for the Slayer and how she often went out of her way to make Samantha’s life hell. A good Slayer would’ve staked Grace good and proper; then again, Samantha now realized she’d never been an adequate Slayer.

No, she was more of a straight-up killer.

Atia smiled, the gentle maternal smile of a woman who understood and sympathized. And so it was a lie, but who would know it? She'd gotten the rage she wanted, and when results were all that mattered, did the manner in which those results came about have meaning?

Not particularly. Not to her.

"Such temerity should be punished." The Corruptress pointed at the knife in the Slayer's hand, her smile widening. "At all costs, you should revenge yourself, hmm? Take back your pride and your son in one feel swoop."

She leaned back in the throne, listening to the chatter of her invisible retainers. "I would have to leave you to your own devices, as there is still much to do, but I should imagine that in your present state you would have no trouble doing what needs to be done."

Samantha gave a nod in silence. At first, she was beyond words, her rage building inside like a pot boiling on the stove. Her grip on her blade was so tight, the Slayer could feel blood on her palms, her flesh warmed by the vitae. This was it – this was what Samantha had been working toward since being freed from prison. It was easy to lose sight of that, given the apparently innate darkness the Slayer found within herself, but the fact remained:

Grace was responsible for Samantha losing her son.

“There will be blood,” the Slayer spoke in an even tone, rising and taking two steps in approach of Atia. “Even if my son is lost to me, I will not rest until there is payment.

“You have shown me much, Corruptress. This is my calling now.”

Atia bared her teeth, a wolf's hungry grin. "And you have proven yourself a capable student, Slayer. Leviathan is pleased with you." In a slightly more modest tone, the redhead added, "I am pleased."

There, now the stage was set. One of them would live and the other would die. She could do no more to affect the outcome, not without over-stepping herself. The redhead rose to her feet, and she placed both hands on the blonde's shoulders, a warped queen bestowing her favor on her equally warped champion.

"You know who you are now, young one. The Black Light has shown you your path. Make Us proud, won't you?"

The Slayer bowed her head – not in shame, but out of respect for the twisted royalty standing before her. Samantha’s choices since her calling were always subject to question, and the Slayer herself often wondered if she’s erred in allying with Wolfram & Hart or giving up her son. But thanks to Atia, Samantha felt as if she’d finally found herself.

It wasn’t pretty, but there it was.

“Her remains shall cake in my fingernails,” Samantha offered with one final bow. “I will not disappoint Leviathan.”

And with that, the Slayer was gone.