God Man Has a Hero
If nothing else, the Resurrection Church of Brest was a good hiding spot.

Yana Lukashenko wasn't sure how much longer she could keep running; she'd been on the run since Minsk, stopping only for food and a few hours' rest each night, whenever she found a barn or old warehouse sufficiently abandoned. The Slayer didn't need anyone knowing where she was, and she didn't want to chance some old farmhand recognizing her from the news reports and calling the authorities.

If Yana could just make it to Poland, she might be alright. Crouching within the massive cathedral, tucked away between a couple wooden pews and trying to keep her breathing silent, Yana stared at her hands. The blood on them had long since been washed away, but she swore she could still see it. Yana closed her eyes to compose herself, a shaky finger reaching up to tuck a strand of black hair behind her left ear.

Yana didn't mean to kill her Watcher, a young man named Vital Kovalev. It wasn't her fault he'd been creeping along the back alleys of Belarus' capital city unbeknownst to her. What was he doing trying to keep her from staking that vampire, anyway? She had the creature on the proverbial ropes, and the Slayer remembered seeing the fear in the beast's feral eyes.

Why did Vital stop her? Why did she drive her stake through his forehead? Why couldn't she stop herself in time?

Yana wasn't a killer. Vital always made that clear to her. You are a Slayer, not a killer. Her Watcher had seen the good in her, when all anyone else ever saw was a lowly street urchin. No family to speak of, Yana was content to live out her life this way until her calling five years ago. Now she was 19, scared and hiding away in a church.

She stared at the altar. Having never understood religion, Yana found it peculiar that she could keep a bloodsucker at bay with the Holy Cross. Vital never had an answer for this phenomenon; well, he never had one that satisfied Yana. She was always a curious sort, wondering how things worked and why things unfolded the way they did. She supposed that curiosity was what made her development into a Slayer so easy; Vital had told her of others who did not take the unfolding of their destiny so well.

Voices echoed in the halls behind Yana. She gasped, covering her red lips with both hands for fear someone would've heard. Her green eyes stared at the mouth of the hall, not daring to blink. Yana's knees began to shake. She had to get out of here, find somewhere else to rest for the night. Crossing the border to Terespol would have to wait until sunrise.

A clergyman and his aide walked into the chamber. The clergyman folded his arms over his black cloak, the smile on his wrinkled face one of serenity. The aide took furious notes as the clergyman spoke, his voice so low Yana couldn't make out the words, even as they echoed through the cathedral. The aide looked as if he was in his early 20s, not that much older than the Slayer.

Holding her breath, Yana crawled to the edge of the pew to get a better look. She could feel her heart pounding between her ears, cringing when the silver necklace draped around her clanged. The clergyman kept talking.

The sound of wood snapping in two echoed through the church and interrupted the clergyman's thoughts. Flinching, Yana tore her gaze from the men and glanced back at the altar. Unlit candles strewn the floor and the crimson carpet leading to the altar and draping over the wooden table was torn. A pair of vampires kneeled before the altar, the blonde male on the right clutching a small religious statue of some sort between his teeth.

"Dear God!" the clergyman bellowed in Russian as his aide backed up two steps before sprinting back down the hall with a whimper.

"God?" the blonde monster growled, tossing the statue aside. Yana watched it break into several pieces. "What is this God you speak of, hm? You waste your life, old man, worshipping He who does not exist."

The clergyman grabbed at his gold necklace with shaky hands and thrust the pendant in the direction of the vampires. Both creaturs hissed and recoiled, and Yana recognized the clergyman's cross. Though part of her wished to remain hidden, Yana couldn't curl up behind a pew while the old clergyman took on a pair of bloodsuckers.

She stood, producing a small dagger that had been resting on her left ankle and the stake she kept hidden beneath the waistband of her faded jeans. The second vampire, a redheaded fellow with freckles made all the more hideous by his demonic visage, saw her and smiled.

"Look, Petr," he chimed in Belarusian, slapping his undead friend across the chest, "God Man has a hero with him."

The clergyman noticed Yana for the first time, fear turning into confusion before he spotted the weapons in her hand. His white brow lifted and he exhaled in relief; Yana got the impression he at least understood why she was holding a dagger and stake.

The blonde vampire grabbed the clergyman, yanking him off his feet and tearing the pendant off his neck. The flesh of the creature's hand sizzled when he did this, but he didn't seem to notice. "Go, she's yours," he told his friend. "I got the last one."

The redhead lunged forward, leaping over a pew before Yana met him head-on, driving the hilt of her dagger into his solar plexus. The vampire grunted and fell into the pew behind him, breaking it into several pieces and sending several splinters into his arms. Yana cursed the fact that the splinters missed his heart, but the Slayer knew it would never be so easy.

Leaping over the pew separating her from the vampire, Yana straddled the monster, grabbing his dirty blue shirt and headbutting him. He growled again before swinging his left arm, his fist colliding with Yana's temple and causing her to roll along the marble ground. Getting back to her knees, Yana could feel the warm blood trickling down the side of her face. She shook her head, both to clear her eyesight and to keep the momories of Vital's blood at bay.

The redhead vampire lunged into the air once more, and Yana rose to her feet to meet him. She thrust her right arm forward, the stake pointing skyward just as the creature descended upon her. The stake tore through shirt, then skin, and Yana eventually felt the weapon stick into the vampire's unbeating heart. Looking up, Yana saw the stunned look on the monster's face before death took over, his frame disintegrating into nothing more than dust and ash.

The Slayer turned to her left in time to see the blonde vampire holding the clergyman by the neck, his sharp fingernails cutting shallowly into his skin. "You killed my brother, bitch!" he screamed, spittle flying onto the floor.

Yana shrugged. "You're obviously not familiar with Slayers."

The vampire snarled. "Please, I killed one last night."

"Well, aren't you all big and mighty," the Slayer spoke in the vampire's native tongue. "If you can handle Slayers, why kill a religious man?"

This time, the Petr shrugged. "Don't know," he admitted. "Because it's fun? To prove a point that religion is a bunch of bullshit? I'm hungry?"

Yana wanted to attack at that moment, but she knew the clergyman would die if she did. Her grip tightened on both weapons, and the Slayer could feel the dust of the redheaded vampire on his skin, sticking to her arms thanks to the sweat she'd built up.

"Then feed on me," she said, hoping to separate the two.

It worked. Petr tossed the clergyman aside without another thought, marching toward Yana and swinging his right arm. The Slayer dodged his fist before driving her own into his rib cage and following with an uppercut across his jaw. The vampire stumbled backward, giving Yana enough room to spin on her left foot and push her right into Petr's stomach. The vampire lost his footing, falling to the floor and sliding toward the wall -- the same wall where the clergyman sat, trying to catch his breath.

"How did you kill a Slayer?" Yana asked, spitting on the vampire. "You fight like a child."

Petr chuckled, licking his lips and returning to his feet. "I never said she was a good Slayer," he countered, using the distraction to punch Yana in the nose.

The Slayer's head shot to the left, but she didn't lose her balance. Blood trickled from Yana's nostril as she responded with a shot to Petr's nose, again knocking him onto his ass. Tossing the stake aside, Yana decided she would behead this foul creature instead. Dropping to her knees, Yana punched the vampire again before tightening her grip on the blade and raising it behind her head.

That opening was all Petr needed. Grabbing the clergyman before he had a chance to get up, Petr pulled him in front to act as a shield. He timed the move just as Yana was bringing down her blade, knowing there was no way she'd be able to stop the attack before realizing what she was doing.

The Slayer's blade cut through the clergyman's neck, hitting his jugular and splattering blood all over the place. Crimson liquid spewed onto the marble floor and soaked the clergyman's robes. Drops sparyed onto the Slayer, who didn't realize what she'd done until her arm swung all the way across her body and her primal scream died. Breathing hard, Yana saw the clergyman slump over, his eyes wide and both hands gripping his bloodied neck. Petr tossed the old man's frame aside with a chuckle.

"No," the Slayer whispered, staring at her hands and dropping to her knees. "No! No, not again ..."

Standing and brushing himself off, Petr watched Yana's reaction and shrugged. He stared as the Slayer crawled toward the dead clergyman, grabbing his robes as tears streamed down her face. She tugged on the robes, tried desperately to find a pulse.

But there was none. The clergyman was dead. Yana killed him.

"No!" she bellowed, her voice echoing through the massive cathedral.

Shaking his head, Petr walked off. Confident the Slayer was too busy mourning the old man to attack, the vampire smirked, even though he had little to be pleased about. The Slayer killed his brother, and though the clergyman had also been killed, Petr still hadn't eaten tonight. He'd worry about the Slayer later -- and rest assured, he would take care of her -- but for now, he just wanted someone to eat.

"Father?" Yana asked, her lower lip quivering. The clergyman wouldn't move. "Father?!"

Letting go of the old man, Yana buried her face in her bloodied hands. Sobbing, she shook her head; for the second time in a week, the Slayer had a human being's blood on her hands. The authorities were sure to come after her with even more gusto now, and she half-expected the Council to start coming after her, as well.

She would have to leave for Poland tonight, but Yana knew that wouldn't be far enough. Not now. She'd probably be on the run for the rest of her life; if the Council of Watchers was really going to catch wind of all this and come after her, there would be nowhere for her to go. Nowhere would be safe.

Taking a deep breath, Yana wiped the tears from her eyes. She stood, though her knees shook. Glancing down at the clergyman's body once more, Yana leaned down, running her fingers over his eyelids to close them. She sniffled, standing upright once more.

"I am sorry, Father," she whispered before staring at the ceiling. "Please forgive me."



[Submitted by Jeff.]