Her dark eyes held no life, no light. The reflection of the flickering candles in their depths shone only dully. As the brush, coated in blood, brushed over her stomach, her pale skin dimpled in goosebumps.

Yet Kathryne’s face stayed set, not even a blink. She stared into the recesses of her mind as the vampires hovered over her. The voice of Darla reading the beginning of the spell, the sounds of Angelus bringing all sorts of mysterious objects in fell upon her ears, but it was as if she was deaf.

Even the soft, icy stroke of the knife brushing across her midsection failed to reach her.

A look of disappointment crossed briefly over the Master’s face. "Next time," he said irritatedly to Angelus, "next time lets keep her aware. I like to see the pain on her face."

Angelus grinned impishly, then turned back to the satin robe he was unfolding. As he held it out to the elder vampire, Darla’s voice began to rise with the chanting.

"At last, it is time," the Master proclaimed, his eyes glowing with a brightness that outshone the candles. Stepping towards the bound girl on the table, he held the knife firmly.

"Every hundred years a girl becomes ready. Every hundred years a vampire can change that which is to come. At the rise of the Blood Star…" Waving a hand at Angelus, he beckoned him to a satin drape on the near wall. The dark haired vampire pulled the cord, releasing through the cut hole in the wall a single beam of glowing light.

Glowing red in the presence of Mars, at it’s ascendance. The ray pierced through the dim light of the room, falling across Kathryne’s stomach. But Kathryne, lost in another place, failed to notice. The Master approached, continuing, "Gods of war, of famine, of disease, she who is sister to the Fates, I call apon past, present, and future, to the place where they conjoin. Take this girl in sacrifice, give me the power of the harbingers of those events which have yet to happen…"

He brushed a hand over her stomach, where the blood painted there and the light of Mars had ceased to be separate.

"She is the One."

He raised the knife above his head, his eyes focused on her soft flesh.

"And I am the knower. The Owner."

The knife sliced through the air smoothly, whistling as it swept towards her midsection.

"The Power is mine."

But before it could enter her flesh, the Master’s head was slammed with a large rock. Whipping around, he snarled at the young woman stepping into the candlelight. She said not a word, but pulled a stake out of her bag. Immediately she was attacked by Darla, but the girl fought easily, slamming the vampire down and landing a solid thud on the back of her neck. Darla dropped, unconscious. Twirling with a grace only a Slayer could possess, she grabbed one of the candle holding stands and hit Angelus with it. No sooner had he staggered back then she was on the Master, kicking and punching in a whirlwind of blows. He fought her off, making clean cuts into her flesh with the sacrificial knife. As they fought, an elderly man snuck in, past the two dizzy vampires on the floor. Pulling out a knife, he sliced Kathryne’s bonds.

"Hello??" he whispered frantically, shaking the nearly catatonic girl desperately. Finally, blinking her eyes slowly, she began to stir. Taking off his jacket, the man covered her nudity, helping her to her feet. With his help, Kathryne stumbled towards the exit to the lair.

As she reached the stairs, there was a resounding crack. Turning, the man and Kathryne had just enough time to see Angelus drop the Slayer’s lifeless body, neck broken, onto the floor. The man let out a low moan, launching himself at the vampires. Kathryne looked back only once, to see Darla heading her way.

Kathryne ran on unsteady legs out the door, slamming down the lock which had undoubtedly been put there for her ‘stay’. The sound of Darla’s claws scraping at the wood convinced her that she needed to get out of there, and fast. Heading through the plush room, her bare feet whisking over the Turkish rug, she heard a shriek. A man’s shriek.

She shook her head, pushing away the faces of the two who had helped her. She could only think about one thing.

Free.

As fast as her weak, jelly-like legs could carry her, she hurried outside and into the cool early morning air. Blinking at the sudden ‘largeness’ of the world, a tear formed in the corner of her eye.

After a moment, she started running. To where, she had no idea.

It was only later that night, sitting down to a meal of charity fueled gruel, when she noticed the strange feeling of power coursing through her veins…