Nothing Is Ever What It Seems
Who: Wesley and Brittany
When: Saturday Night
Where: Pryce House, then an abandoned factory
Wesley was sitting at home, reading. He wasn't exactly the exciting type most nights, especially the ones that he was alone. Laili was finishing up work at the zoo and, with Gwen moved out, things had become much more quiet at his house. He kind of missed having her around all the time, but he was also glad that she was married to someone who made her happy.
Outside, the quiet was cracked by a loud, horrified shriek, and a frightened female voice yelling. "Oh my god... please... leave me alone!"
Once he heard the voice, he reacted quickly. He grabbed his crossbow and ran outside, leaving the door open behind him without thinking about it.
On the ground, a young woman laid, shivering, long red hair disheveled and hanging in her face. "Oh my god... it's so horrible..."
Once he looked around and didn't see anyone, he set the crossbow aside and bent down to the ground. "What's so horrible? What happened?"
It's so terrible..." She fluidly stood then, flipping the hair from her face. Brittany Wakefield grinned down at him, a hand quickly smacking the crossbow from his hands as the other grabbed the back of his neck. "How naive and stupid you people can be..."
Why does this keep happening to him? Even though he knew that it was a futile attempt, he tried to pull at her hand at his neck, mostly just so that he could breath.
"Ya see, Wesley... since becoming a vampire... I've had the worst problem with finding a fun hobby. But now, I found a great one." She went into vampface, fingers wrapping around his throat. "Making life miserable for the Slayerettes, one at a time. And I'm starting with the white-trash you call Gwen."
When she called her white trash, he lashed out with a kick, hoping to at least stun her enough to get away. "The only white trash I know is what I'm looking at," he snapped.
"Oh, the British wimp has a backbone! How completely adorable." She backfisted him in the forehead, hard, to knock the gumption out of him. "Get your insults in while you can, sweetie. Because I'm not planning on killing you, not for a long time. You're about to find out just how much pain one human being can endure before their body just gives up."
When she hit him, he saw stars. He never realized how literal that expression really was until now. Still, he still had enough in him to say, "Fine, your shoes make you look fat, too," remembering how the old Brittany would have thrown a hissy fit at that, and vampires really were just more evil versions of their old selves.
"THEY DO NOT!" She had fire in her eyes now. Nobody insulted her, dammit! "These are $600 Jimmy Choos!"
He laughed. "It must be the outfit, then. Then again, maybe you're just fat all on your own."
"Oh. My. God." Brittany was flabbergasted now. She grabbed Wesley by the hair, and headbutted him as hard as she could. "You are in for SO much pain, mister... "
When she headbutted him, he was out like a light.
She lifted him, flopping his limp body over her shoulder, and pulled a note from her pocket, wiping it across the now-bleeding forehead of Wesley, before taking a small nail and using it to slam the note onto the door. "That should take care of that... now comes the waiting."
When Wesley woke up, at first he thought it was a nightmare. However, then he felt the restraints on his hands, and opened his eyes. He looked around to see that he was in some kind of warehouse. “Oh bloody hell,” he mumbled.
"Bloody? Oh, sweetheart!" Brittany's voice was far too sweet to not be chilling. "You haven't begun to understand that word yet."
Wesley squinted at her, trying to ignore the very painful headache that he had. Of course, he of all people had to get kidnapped by the worst potential turned vampire. Why couldn't Kit get into these situations? Anyone else but him. "I understand the word in one sense: bloody awful. That's your outfit."
"Your attitude will fade soon, Wesley. And I look forward to breaking you of it." With a dimpled smile, she reached over, and took a good handful of his genitals... and squeezed, just hard enough to make it really hurt. "You're gonna scream in ways you didn't know you COULD."
He grimaced and groaned a little, but managed to hold back a scream, for now anyway. He sucked in a breath and hissed, "Do your worst, but you'll never break her. She's one hundred times the person that you ever were."
"I suppose we'll see about that..." Brittany said with an exasperated sigh. "Now, Wesley... you talk WAY too much for someone who's supposed to be in excruciating pain. I think I need to get out the screwdriver and the hammer."
"It's amazing what the human body will deal with, but I guess you wouldn't know that, would you?" Actually, he was about five seconds from screaming bloody murder, but he was really trying to hold that back.
"Enough talk..." She suddenly spun around, essentially shivving him through the shoulder with a long screwdriver, a sadistic grin on her face. "Time to suffer."
That time, he did scream, and loud, too. He doubted that this was even the beginning of his suffering, though.
She tilted the impromptu blade at a severe angle, just enough to make the pain worse. "They say pain can be very intimate, Wesley. So... tonight? I guess that makes you and me quite the cozy couple. So let's get better acquainted, my lovely..."
When: Saturday Night
Where: Pryce House, then an abandoned factory
Wesley was sitting at home, reading. He wasn't exactly the exciting type most nights, especially the ones that he was alone. Laili was finishing up work at the zoo and, with Gwen moved out, things had become much more quiet at his house. He kind of missed having her around all the time, but he was also glad that she was married to someone who made her happy.
Outside, the quiet was cracked by a loud, horrified shriek, and a frightened female voice yelling. "Oh my god... please... leave me alone!"
Once he heard the voice, he reacted quickly. He grabbed his crossbow and ran outside, leaving the door open behind him without thinking about it.
On the ground, a young woman laid, shivering, long red hair disheveled and hanging in her face. "Oh my god... it's so horrible..."
Once he looked around and didn't see anyone, he set the crossbow aside and bent down to the ground. "What's so horrible? What happened?"
It's so terrible..." She fluidly stood then, flipping the hair from her face. Brittany Wakefield grinned down at him, a hand quickly smacking the crossbow from his hands as the other grabbed the back of his neck. "How naive and stupid you people can be..."
Why does this keep happening to him? Even though he knew that it was a futile attempt, he tried to pull at her hand at his neck, mostly just so that he could breath.
"Ya see, Wesley... since becoming a vampire... I've had the worst problem with finding a fun hobby. But now, I found a great one." She went into vampface, fingers wrapping around his throat. "Making life miserable for the Slayerettes, one at a time. And I'm starting with the white-trash you call Gwen."
When she called her white trash, he lashed out with a kick, hoping to at least stun her enough to get away. "The only white trash I know is what I'm looking at," he snapped.
"Oh, the British wimp has a backbone! How completely adorable." She backfisted him in the forehead, hard, to knock the gumption out of him. "Get your insults in while you can, sweetie. Because I'm not planning on killing you, not for a long time. You're about to find out just how much pain one human being can endure before their body just gives up."
When she hit him, he saw stars. He never realized how literal that expression really was until now. Still, he still had enough in him to say, "Fine, your shoes make you look fat, too," remembering how the old Brittany would have thrown a hissy fit at that, and vampires really were just more evil versions of their old selves.
"THEY DO NOT!" She had fire in her eyes now. Nobody insulted her, dammit! "These are $600 Jimmy Choos!"
He laughed. "It must be the outfit, then. Then again, maybe you're just fat all on your own."
"Oh. My. God." Brittany was flabbergasted now. She grabbed Wesley by the hair, and headbutted him as hard as she could. "You are in for SO much pain, mister... "
When she headbutted him, he was out like a light.
She lifted him, flopping his limp body over her shoulder, and pulled a note from her pocket, wiping it across the now-bleeding forehead of Wesley, before taking a small nail and using it to slam the note onto the door. "That should take care of that... now comes the waiting."
When Wesley woke up, at first he thought it was a nightmare. However, then he felt the restraints on his hands, and opened his eyes. He looked around to see that he was in some kind of warehouse. “Oh bloody hell,” he mumbled.
"Bloody? Oh, sweetheart!" Brittany's voice was far too sweet to not be chilling. "You haven't begun to understand that word yet."
Wesley squinted at her, trying to ignore the very painful headache that he had. Of course, he of all people had to get kidnapped by the worst potential turned vampire. Why couldn't Kit get into these situations? Anyone else but him. "I understand the word in one sense: bloody awful. That's your outfit."
"Your attitude will fade soon, Wesley. And I look forward to breaking you of it." With a dimpled smile, she reached over, and took a good handful of his genitals... and squeezed, just hard enough to make it really hurt. "You're gonna scream in ways you didn't know you COULD."
He grimaced and groaned a little, but managed to hold back a scream, for now anyway. He sucked in a breath and hissed, "Do your worst, but you'll never break her. She's one hundred times the person that you ever were."
"I suppose we'll see about that..." Brittany said with an exasperated sigh. "Now, Wesley... you talk WAY too much for someone who's supposed to be in excruciating pain. I think I need to get out the screwdriver and the hammer."
"It's amazing what the human body will deal with, but I guess you wouldn't know that, would you?" Actually, he was about five seconds from screaming bloody murder, but he was really trying to hold that back.
"Enough talk..." She suddenly spun around, essentially shivving him through the shoulder with a long screwdriver, a sadistic grin on her face. "Time to suffer."
That time, he did scream, and loud, too. He doubted that this was even the beginning of his suffering, though.
She tilted the impromptu blade at a severe angle, just enough to make the pain worse. "They say pain can be very intimate, Wesley. So... tonight? I guess that makes you and me quite the cozy couple. So let's get better acquainted, my lovely..."