Flesh and Blood

8

Fuzzy and cold. That was how Sienna felt as the sleeping spell Leah and Liliana had cast on her began to wear off. When her eyes flickered open, she was greeted with pitch-black darkness that had blips of green and red lights, accompanied by a gentle mechanical humming. The room she was in felt like an endless abyss—Was she even in a room?

The mousy brunette tried to move her arms and found them chained snugly behind her back. Then she tried to wiggle her legs but was once again unable. She felt the rope digging into her bony waist, rubbing her wrists and ankles raw. Panic swirled within the witch's stomach and slithered its way into a knot in her chest as she realized she had been taken hostage. As Sienna's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could make out the green numbers on what she concluded was a washing machine and dryer.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Sienna began rocking back and forth, trying to break free of her binds. She grunted with each gesture, hoping that the next move she made would be her victory. As a last resort, she threw her body to the side, tipping the chair and landing with a blunt thud on the cold cement floor.

Suddenly the overhead light flashed on. It blinded the young girl, her hazel eyes squinting to readjust to her new lighting, like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car. Sienna spotted a small blond woman standing at the only doorway. She was holding something, but Sienna's eyesight was too blurry to make out anything but muddled colors. When the woman drew nearer, Sienna was finally able to make out the blade clutched in her hand. And as the curved blade glistened in the fluorescent light, time slowed. Fear washed over the witch.

"Who are you?" Sienna cried. Tears were falling already from her face. She was utterly terrified, even more so than she ever was with Amy or Warren. She continued to rock back and forth while helplessly on her side.

Buffy kept her silence as she approached, feeding off her hostage's fear. Sienna was already quaking in her stylish-yet-affordable boots, which made her job easier. The slayer didn't want to kill her—how would that make her any different than Amy if she did? No, she just wanted to hurt her. Badly.

"Who am I?" Buffy calmly spoke, kneeling over Sienna. "I don't think you're in the position to be asking the questions here." The slayer aggressively grabbed Sienna's chair and whipped it upright. Every action Buffy made, she intentionally wanted to instill fear in the girl for every second she was there. The more fear that was felt, the more likely the witch would break for her.

Sienna whimpered, afraid to look her captor in her eyes. Her vision was still a bit fuzzed, but the woman's features were slowly becoming clear as she brought a chair to sit opposite of the witch.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked loudly, firmly, hoping to scare the girl even more. She fiddled with the knife in her hands, twirling it deftly between her fingers. Her hostage refused to answer. Already impatient, Buffy swiftly sliced the knife over the girl's knee, cutting a shallow wound through her already tattered jeans. The girl cried out in pain. "I'm going to ask again, and it would be wise to respond. Who are you?"

At first, the witch didn't answer, but then Buffy made the smallest inclination with her dagger, and she instantly cries out, "Sienna! My name is Sienna!"

"Forgive me if I seem a little eager. Post-partum stuff. I don't think you'd understand," sarcastically replied Buffy as she examined the bloodied knife.

Suddenly it hit Sienna that this was the mother of the baby that Amy had stolen. Her heart was in her throat; she found herself unable to find words. Bewildered, she opened her mouth, desperate to force words out, but they didn't come.

"So where is my baby?" Buffy's eyes were daggers on Sienna.

"I- I don't know," the girl stuttered. Another quick slice to Sienna's thigh, and she cried out again. "Please! I don't know where Amy took her!"