Kathy's Revenge

Chapter 39
Faiths POV

I wake up still sitting on my chair, which is more than I can say for Willow who seams to be frozen on the floor. She’s looking over to the other side of the basement. My eyes follow along her line of sight and I can see why she’s frozen to the spot.

There, standing larger than life is Gable. I would know his name he is my memory. For a split second I think that it’s just another one of those moments I’ve been having. But it can’t be. For one thing I wouldn’t think that I was still here and I would have to play along with the memory up until now it’s happened against my will. Also by the look on Willow’s face she can see him too.

I would say she could feel him as well as he backhands her across the face throwing her across the room where she collides with a pile of boxes down in the room. The contents bang and clatter off the concrete floor.

My grip tightens on the arms of my chair. I can’t move. I’m far to scared to move. This man who terrorised me for half of my life is standing before me and just threw my girlfriend across the room like she were a screwed up piece of paper.

I hear the door at the top of the basement steps crash open and in runs the bleach blond hair of Spike I can only think that they heard Red hit the floor with a crash. If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s flew down the stairs. He’s closely followed by more or less everyone.

Gable sets his sights on Buffy as she gets to the bottom of the stairs. He did always have a thing for blondes.

I get over my shock and stand from my seat so fast that it flies to the wall. I’ll check later if I broke it.

Gable pushes Spike out of his way as if he weighed nothing and heads straight for the blonde. The sight of the ex-vampire being thrown to the side slightly unnerves the slayer and she begins to back up to the wall. I’ve learned from experience that this is never a good idea with this guy.

“Faith what’s going on?” She screams as if this is all my fault. Well I suppose you could say that but I’m not doing it on purpose.

“Faith?” The sound of my name makes him stop dead. He turns on his heal till I’m in his line of sight.

I have to admit that the fight is all but gone from my entire body. Every nerve ending is telling me to run. But where to? Behind me there is a very small window. Nowhere near big enough for me to get through. So I start to back up slowly matching each of his forward steps. “Gable.” I regard him. My voice sounds calm like I could take control of this situating yet by body language tells a very different story.

He keeps up his steady pace towards me and my pace follows backwards. I can see Spike behind him getting back to his feet, running for my stepfather.

He begins to take him down in a rugby tackle from behind. Looked like it had a hell of a lot of power in it. Probably would have worked if he hadn’t gone through the man.

Gable looks down at the bleach blonde stopping his advance for just a moment before kicking him out of the way. Spike lands not to far away clutching his ribs. “What the bloody hell?”

Buffy having grown a pair thinks that she can do better and calls him. “Hey Gable is it?” He turns to face her and Buffy aims a hard right hook at his cheek. Once again her hand goes right through him. So she tries again. He catches her fist in his big beefy hand and twists her wrist around in a very painful direction. Then throws her away from him. Setting his sights back on me.

My back touches the wall. Nowhere else to go, nowhere else to run. I push back against it trying to either push through it or dissolve into it.

He puts his hand against the wall very close to my head and leans down on his arm. He pushes his face right close to mine. I have to turn my head to the side to give his face enough space in front of me. I can smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. “You’re not real.” I whisper feebly at him. Trying desperately to believe my own words.

“Aren’t I?” He used his other hand to pat himself down just to check he’s there. “Think you might be wrong there, Firecracker.” The use of that nickname puts my mind right back in my old house in the south of Boston. “I’m real. I’m just…” he waits for me to finish the sentence for him.

“Untouchable.” Needless to say we have had this particular conversation many times.

“That’s right.” I was wrong to think that if I did what he wanted he might leave me alone. I feel his hand close around my throat. Then I’m being lifted from that point. My toes try to hang on to the solid floor for as long as their length will let me.

I try to pull and claw at his hands trying to get his hand from around me. My legs kick out and would have connected with his special area by now if I could touch him. It seams as though my memory of him being untouchable has exaggerated that slightly.

My vision begins to fade as the lack of oxygen begins to make me lose consciousness. I can hear the redheads voice close to my ear. “Separate.” More magic. It doesn’t make him move, not in the slightest. It does however push me into the middle of the room. Going right through him. I land in the middle of the large room on my back.

I roll to my side trying to cough oxygen back into my lungs. Massaging my neck trying to ease the ache. Willow flies into my line of sight and out again as she’s thrown against the far wall crashing into some training equipment and landing in a heap.

I try to twist my head to see what happened to her when I feel a large booted foot connect with my ribs. It throws me onto my front. And I pull my knees up trying to ease the pain.

Again the same foot connects with my ribs throwing me slightly into the air, my knees hitting the floor upon landing.

I lay one side of my face to the floor and see Andrew of all people trying to come to my rescue. Needless to say he’s thrown to the wall and starts getting some brains as he stays still on the floor.

I wish I could just stay still right here and he wouldn’t be able to see me. No such luck. His hand threads into my hair and yanks my face up to look at him. “Get up.” He spits at me before he throws my head back down making it smack off the floor.

I stay where I am for a few seconds. I really don’t want to stand up. Last time he did this he broke my arm. All I want to do is curl up and pretend I’m not here. Even though I know this will do nothing to help me its all my body wants to do. But again his boot smashes into my ribs and I feel one break, the wind is pushed out of me.

He moves away. “Get up.”

I place one of my hands flat against the floor and push myself to sit on my knees. My other arm around my chest acting as a small barrier. I take a few moments to try and control my breathing before I drag myself to my feet.

I push myself up straight. One of my eyes is beginning to swell shut so I try to stare him down only using one eye. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You look pretty afraid.” He says this with a laugh in his voice starting to make my blood boil. But I don’t move. I just stand there and wait for the next blow, which is surely coming any moment now.

I drop my eyes from him to the floor and see Willow still in a heap. She hasn’t moved since I saw her fly across the room.

I bring my eyes slowly up to meat his gaze with pure hatred burning deep within me.