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Ripping An Ode to Sineya

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She walked into the night’s cold air struggling with the injustice of it. Dazed, confused and mentally tormented from the thoughts that lie in her head. Her soul ripped apart and scattered amongst the dead and rotting bones, replaced with a Spirit that cried out for blood and vengeance, for pure unadulterated violence. Her very core felt primal and deadly. The hotness of her tears seared her ebony skin and her head felt heavy to the point of falling off her shoulders. The men stole her like a ravenous wolf that steal lambs in the dusk of night. They raped her of her soul, distorted her innocence, stole whom she was and made her into something unrecognizable.

She trembled violently at what she is now and she knows there is no going back for her. She'd become the monster that monsters would fear. Her senses, that of a predator, her rejoinder keen and unmatched among killers. She is a marauder, an imposter as well as a protector among those that live life, a prowler that preys on the undead, and the shadow that the monsters flee. She will soon embrace that deadly call, to fight so that evil shall fall. She will become the hard hand of justice. Giving into what is inside her, what is now a part of her, what is her.

The first girl born to this generation with the strength and the skill to hunt the vampire, to stop the scourge of evil, she alone will stand against the forces of darkness. The first, the mother, many shall come after her but none are before her. She will be strong in her duty until her time in this world is done, then she will give her strength to others like her. They will build on what she at these moments, hours, days and decades shall carry out. She is the Slayer.