Abaddon

Abaddon Part 4

 "Have we tried the medical records of his victims?" Agatha's voice was exasperated though she'd only been awake for an hour or so. Her sleep schedule had flipped entirely, as it often did on long periods of nightly patrols. Charles stood by the window, watching the sun set over London and chewing on the earpiece of his glasses.

"There is no way to discern which kills are his. In the beginning, his kills were a bit more brutal. A bit messier. But this is to be expected of young vampires."
"So he cleaned up his act already? I thought vampires could take decades to master the act of biting and draining." Agatha was slightly proud of herself for having remembered this fact. She had always been better on the physical side of her training and had often neglected her studies.

"This is true but he seems to have learned very quickly. That or he's older than we've previously thought. Perhaps he had learned quite a bit before ever coming to London. Besides, kills from new vampires are rather common. They're hardly distinct enough to track a single vampire in a city of this size."

"It seems as though we've spent months researching all the records we can think of and we've yet to make any progress. Has The Council found anything else? Something from his name, possibly?"

"The Council has largely given up on the idea of our research yielding any helpful information. They've never cared for our method of narrowing hunting grounds anyway. They want you out on the bricks every night. They think that is your best chance of..."

"They think that is my best chance of dying."

Charles' gaze fell upon Agatha with a blinding mix of fury and heartbreak. What she had said had shocked him. He had to know she had been thinking it. He may have even thought it himself. But to voice the conspiracy aloud was something else entirely.

"Agatha, that is not true."

"Yes it is, Charles." She spoke not angrily, but resigned. This reality had not come to her suddenly, as it seemed to have come to Charles. She had sensed this for more than a year now, and her assignment to London was just the most recent proof. "I've read the Watchers' logs. I've read about the other slayers. Many of them didn't even see eighteen. I've served far longer than nearly..."

"Don't say that."

"It's true Charles. They're thinking it, as am I so you had better start."

"Don't say that you've served, Agatha. You have lived. You have lived longer than almost any slayer before you. The serving is a facet of your life, Agatha. The living is not a distraction from your service."

"It has seldom felt that way."

At this, Charles hung his head and pulled his thin rimmed glasses from his eyes once more.

"My life has been a service. My death will be a service. The Council knows that a threat could come at any moment which could threaten our very world. I know that many previous Slayers have faced such a horrifying threat, and almost none have faced it at my age and in my condition. In many ways, I'm lucky. I've had an easier..."

"I would hardly call your life easy, Agatha. You have averted fewer catastrophes than some of your predecessors, but you have faced the forces of darkness for longer than almost any of them. Very few could do what you've done. Almost none have."

"I just..." A wave of emotion crashed over her and a strange lump appeared in Agatha's throat. Her sadness had caught her off guard, as had the statement she had started to utter. "I hope someone remembers me." She crumbled into a quiet, resigned sob as the final words left her chapped lips and Charles' hand was immediately rested upon her back and pulling her in for a hug.

The image of a Watcher hugging his slayer as she wept was quite unorthodox, as Agatha could tell by the awkward way in which Charles tried to hold her and comfort her. She was thankful for it nonetheless. Charles was the only the person who had lent his shoulder for her to cry upon since her mother and father had stopped doing so when Agatha was very young and sent to train with The Council.

"I will, Agatha. I could never forget you."

His words stung a bit as they did confirm a part of her fear, but ultimately, she found Charles comforting in his honesty.

"Now," Charles said. He returned to his more formal tone after Agatha had calmed down a bit and regained her composure. He rose to his feet, lightly dusting off his vest. "The sun is setting. It is time for you to patrol again. I will stay here and search for a bit longer."

Agatha didn't speak but headed for the door.

"And Agatha." Charles called after her.

She turned back to meet a stern but loving gaze.

"Do be careful."