Disclaimers: Joss owns them not me. I make no claims to any BTVS character. I do own Discord, all of her, even her eyelashes.
Date Stamp: Miss K, aka Kitty wrote this 22.12.01
Dedications: To Pebblin, always ready to embrace death and destruction of characters.
Title: Veruca Salt, specifically Nina Gordon own the song, not me. I make no claims to her genius.
 
Faith's POV
 
Slayers Do Christmas XXII - The Morning Sad
 
My body sits itself bolt upright, and I feel like someone's ripping the insides of skull out!
 
'Faith, what... what's going on?'
 
She switches the lamp on and sits up, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I feel like I'm gonna hurl.
 
'Faith, what's up? Ok, you need to lie back down, you're sweating like crazy.'
 
Something's wrong.
I look round at the room, but everything's the same.
Don't know what I expected, but I feel like someone's just pulled the rug out from under me.
 
'I need a smoke, B, lie down, I'll be back in a minute, ok?'
 
She takes a moment, and then nods and lies back down.
I grab a T and some shorts, and quickly put them on, still trying to shake the feeling that I'm gonna chuck.
I lean over and kiss her before heading out into the kitchen to get a cold drink and my smokes.
 

Assassin's POV

 
What a crock; watch her, girls, be careful, she's dangerous!
Blew the bitches brains out with one shot.
 
I kick Marcy's body, just to make sure she's dead, and then grab her leg and drag her back to the car.
No bodies, no questions, that's what they teach us, and I'm not about to forget something that get's beaten into me every day.
 
I dump her in the back of the car and cover her over with a blanket.
I'll lose the ride and her in the next river we come to.
 
Lets go get Xena then.
Shit, I'll have to bury her on my own.
Just fucking great, she's like six motherfucking feet tall!
Marcy you loser, dying on me like that!
 
I light a fag up and walk round to the back of the house.
Lucky we're in the middle of no where or this place would've been crawling with five-o by now.
 
My hands slip in all the blood on her arm, as I pick it up and start to drag her along the ground.
Shit, this isn't working.
What am I thinking?
Cut her into bits, you retard, easier to carry then!
You'd think I hadn't been trained or sommit.
 
I run back to the car and grab my saw, and a couple of black bags, and then make my way back to the body.
Wow, I really blew her ribs out man, good shot, gotta say.
If I had my camera I'd snap that for my wall, the boss would...
Then a hand grasps my throat, and I feel my eyes go wide as my vision is filled with her bloody face!
 
'Want to take a closer look, little one?'
 
What the ...?!
 

Discord's POV

 
Concentrate.
 
My bones start shifting inside me.
Can feel them moving and replacing the shattered pieces, mending the gaps.
I won't start on the head wound or skin yet, or else I might give the game away.
I lie as still as I can as she tries to drag me by the arm over to her car.
You've got to be joking!
She doesn't look like she can lift a bag of chips, let alone me.
Well, persistent to the very end I guess.
I'd just carve me up into bits, easier that way.
 
She drops my arm and runs back to the car.
I open my eyes slightly and see her pulling a huge surgical saw out.
Good girl!
It's always a shame to see talented ones go, but then truly talented ones don't go.
She runs back and kneels next to me, pushing my top away from my wound.
Inspecting your work, hey?
I'll let you see it, all of it.
 
I sit up and grab her throat, squeezing my fingers into her flesh, feeling her tense underneath them.
 
'Want to take a closer look, little one?'
 
The look of utter fear in her eyes is one I'll keep with me for a long time.
Pure, beautiful fear.
 
I smile at her and kiss her cheek, then crush her neck with my hands, quickly.
I let her body drop back on the floor and she lies there, her head at this impossible angle.
Tragic, really.
 
I push myself up, grab her legs and drag her back to the car, dumping her in the back seat with the other one.
Shit, they pick them young now, don't they?!
I get in the front seat and drive it round to the back of the house, out of view of the road.
Not that anything much comes past here, but you can't be too careful.
I get out, close the door, and walk back towards the house.
I'll deal with this later.
 
Looks like little Dawn has more than her fair share of admirers.
So young, had their whole lives ahead of them.
 
Oh well, I'm going to miss Jerry Springer if I hang about out here much longer!