TITLE: I was meditating, damn it! Author: Shawn Dorca Rating: R for violence Summary: Faith, in solitary confinement again, responds badly to being
intrrupted. Credits: Songs- "Most people I know think that I'm crazy"
performed by Billy Thorpe, and owned by whoever owns it but not me. "Saturday
night in Toledo Ohio" is by John Denver, owned by his estate,
apparently. Song comments: I tried to write the lyrics of "Most people I know think that
I'm crazy" the way they are sung. IT WAS NOT A SERIES OF TYPOS, THOSE WORDS ARE
STRETCHED OUT IN THE SONG. Apologies: I don't know if the Shao Lin are actually Buddhist, I am assuming
it, and the monastary in California is my own invention. I do not mean to insult
anyone or their religion.I was Meditating, damn it
Actually she liked being a psychotic low-life slut, except for the guilt
about killing innocent people. Her
time in prison had convinced her there were a lot of humans every bit as demonic
as the worst vampire, confirming a childhood belief and creating one more
difference between her and Buffy.
“But somehow I don’t think telling B that she’s a bigot is gonna make her
forgive me more readily.” Lot’s of
time in solitary to develop the planning skills taught to her by the Mayor. Not
to mention the meditation and Tai Chi learned from Angel, hard though it was to
believe he knew all that.
Developing alternate scenario’s for accomplishing a task was part of it,
but all her attempts at developing a “make up with the Scoob’s” strategy ended
in failure. “Demon’s as the next
unfairly stereotyped minority, true but a very hard sell.”
The dark slayer was meditating on this when the peace of solitary
confinement was broken by the slamming of steel doors and shouting voices. The outer blank steel door to her cell
slid open and a group of guards was pushed in by some armed prisoners. They were all shoved into her cell,
looking functional if messed up and terrified.
Faith backed up as far away from the door as she could get the guards
pushed as far to either side as the could get, with the inmates standing in
front of the closed bar steel door pointing shotguns. It was assumed that the dark-haired girl
was retreating in fear. That was a mistaken
assumption.
Prison Officer Gilda Rasheed was numb with terror. Being locked in by the
inmates was bad enough, since it meant that the majority of the prison must have
fallen to them, but being locked up with Faith!! All of them had seen security tapes of
the slim dark haired girl fighting, taking down five and six gang members at a
time. It was like being locked in a
cage with a tiger, a hungry tiger.
She thought the way the lunatic in the cell with them was looking at the
inmates on the other side of the door, like they were gazelles and she was a
lion, would live with her all her life, however many seconds that turned out to
be.
Suddenly there was a blur of movement, and Faith did a running kick to
the door that tore it off its mountings and smeared the inmates against plain
steel outer door like big insects against a car windscreen. Then she opened the outer door, which
had not been locked. The young girl
looked back at them with a shotgun taken of a recently squished rioter in her
hand.
“Well, are you coming or just breathing heavily?” And with that she walked off down the
hall, leaving a stunned group of guards to collect themselves after this latest
violent twist in a very violent and twisted day.
It turned out to be a beautiful day outside, a good southern California
day. A clear blue sky that provided
a magnificent backdrop to flying things, such as birds, police helicopters,
brain matter mixed with skull pieces, that were part of the performance art
masterpiece that the dark slayer performed that day. Her reputation helped, creating fear
induced paralysis in some people, and screaming panic in others.
The guards that followed in her wake were a small group, but actually
welcomed by any who lived through Faith’s passage. The survivors had had an object lesson
in real violence, and after the gang riot, the guard counterattack, the gang
victory with its murders and night-stick rapes, followed by the singing angel of
death, guards with shotguns and pistols looked like the Salvation
Army.
Faith had begun with a weapon taken of one of the corpses outside her
cell, running down the halls shooting anyone vaguely threatening. Slayer senses allowed her to move and
fight with literally inhuman speed and accuracy. Looted kitchen knives and shanks, plus
bits of broken furniture and eventually a 9mm Glock pistol from the armoury, all
added to the bodycount.
Occasionally the action
slowed down as she stalked an elusive kill. It was at these times she sang, her
voice bouncing around whatever room her prey, for that is what the rioters had
become, were hiding in. Some were
oldies that her mother had been fond of, but a favourite was one a biker she had
known in Boston had learned while on Navy shore leave in Australia.
“Most people I know, think that I’m Craaazeeeeee,
and , I know at times, I act a little a haaaaazeeeee
BUT,
if that’s my way ,
and you should know iiiiiiiiit then,
in every way,
help me to show iiiiiiiiiiit,
...”
Most people in the California Womens Prison did think that Faith was
Crazy, or at least a dangerous killer.
However at least it suited the occasion, unlike her second favourite
choice, and old John Denver number.
“Satuday night,
in Toledo, Ohio is like being nowhere at all,
all through the day how the hours go by,
you sit in the park,
and watch the grass die...”
Being stalked by the prisons most feared loner psychopath was bad enough
without having to listen to her butcher John Denver songs, especially one about
how boring things are. A bored
psycho with a terrible singing voice and tunes no-one else even knew, it allowed
some very dangerous people to learn what it feels like to be a cornered mouse. To know only fear and a sick
certainty of a painfull death.
Others, the more fortunate who were not in whatever room this little
drama was playing in, would wait for the song to suddenly end. Normally without even a
scream.
The day ended with Faith in the Prison Hospital under heavy
sedation. Her injuries in no-way
required the sedatives, but, after her little show it was felt better to err on
the side of caution. Although it
was rapidly becoming the accepted wisdom that sending her to Mars, or possibly
Alpha-Centaruie was the only truely safe option. The only comment she gave, that she was
always grumpy after being interrupted meditating, and that stupid bitch who
tossed the guards in her cell knew it, served to reinforce the view.
A viewing of her solitary confinement security tapes confimed all their
fears. Faith seemed to spend her
time in solitary meditating, practicing Tai Chi, and various martial arts. Her ability to leave whenever the mood
took her having been demonstrated, clearly she was simply enjoyed the
solitude. Escape from the general
population would be laughably easy, she simply had decided to stay in prison of
her own accord.
“And that, govenor, is how Faith Spencer came to be transferred from the
California Womens prison to our monastery.
Your predecessor felt that since only her self discipline and
determination to find her dharma was preventing her from causing harm, she would
be safest in a place that was devoted to it.” The buddhist monk led his guest through
the gardens, to a grassy area where the instructors class was being taught by
the only woman ever accepted as a Shao Lin monk.