No Kill Policy
by Melissa Minners
Disclaimer and Other Information: It should be noted that all of the characters and many of the locales in this fan fiction are not mine. They are owned by The WB. This fan fiction is somewhat of an homage to the series, though I have used a little liberty here with events. The story takes place some time after Love and Betrayal, so if you haven't read that particular fanfic, I suggest you do before reading this one. Warning: Parts of this fanfic may be highly graphic at times. Reader's discretion is advised. I hope you enjoy. The music excerpt playing in the bar in the background is from Coldplay's Clocks.
Huntress eyed the gun in Sylvestri's hand with some skepticism, raising an eyebrow.
"You had that this whole time?" she asked, incredulously.
Sylvestri chuckled. "What this ol' thing? Yeah, sure. But this is just my back-up piece, ya know? More into the knife. Love the artistry involved in using one. Guns are just so messy. BAMM! That's it. Now a knife-oh, you can be so creative!"
Huntress rolled her eyes.
This guy's a freaking headcase!
Catching the look on Huntress' face, Sylvestri decided to toy with her a bit.
"Take that night with Dinah for instance. Imagine how it must have felt. That cold steel blade sliding down her neck, caressing her collarbone, slicing button after button. Slowly of course - this was something that just couldn't be rushed. Really wish I hadn't left that knife behind. Would have made such a terrific souvenir."
Sylvestri chuckled to himself as he watched Huntress tense. He knew just what buttons to press and he had the upper hand.
"Yeah, that blade knew every inch, every curve of that girl. And what a girl - a bit young, but what the hell. Poor thing. You could tell she hadn't any experience. It was my absolute pleasure to show her the ropes. Oh, and the tears pouring from those baby blues. God! SO sexy. Tell ya what, when I'm done here, I think I'll pay that gal another visit!"
Huntress' self-control had begun to waver the moment Sylvestri had mentioned Dinah's name. Her anger reached new plateaus as Sylvestri described the events of that night - the night Huntress had found Dinah curled in a fetal position on the floor of the warehouse. As Sylvestri spoke, she was brought back to that night. She saw Dinah lying there, the blood, the torn clothing, the bruises. She heard the whimpering, the sobbing.
And as Sylvestri described the things he'd done to Dinah that night, Huntress felt herself beginning to spin out of control. The rage burning inside her was like that of an active volcano, the pressure mounting below the surface. The more he said, the greater the rage, until finally, the volcano erupted. All it had taken was the promise of a repeat performance. With a fury she had never before experienced, Huntress attacked.
Sylvestri realized an instant too late that he had made a mistake. The look on Huntress' face was terrifying as she launched her attack - so terrifying that he almost forgot about the gun he held. He had only a second to fire before she was on him. His eyes widened into saucers. Sylvestri's aim been wide, a combination of his surprise at the attack, and the speed with which Huntress carried it out. But Sylvestri was certain he hadn't missed.
I hit her! I know I hit her!
That was the last thought that Sylvestri had before Huntress crashed into him, sending them both sprawling, the gun skittering across the floor. Sylvestri scrambled for it, but Huntress was too fast for him. Grabbing him by the collar, Huntress hauled Sylvestri to his feet. She spun him around, driving him face first into the wall. Huntress caught Sylvestri by the hair as he rebounded from the wall. She slammed him into the wall again, then spun around and threw him to the floor.
As Sylvestri struggled to get to his feet, Huntress drilled him with a kick to the ribs. Again he tried to get to his feet, and again Huntress was there, this time helping him to his feet. Bringing him around to face her, she began with a well placed right cross, and continued to mercilessly pummel Sylvestri, until she had driven him into the wall on the opposite side of the room.
Sylvestri hit that wall hard enough to rattle his bones. His knees crumpled beneath him and he began to slide down the wall. Huntress caught him - one hand grabbing his hair, the other his throat - and hauled him to his feet. As they stood face to face, Sylvestri could see the fury in Huntress' eyes. A part of him cringed at the untamed rage he saw there. Another part of him couldn't resist the urge to crank up the volume.
"She tasted so sweet...so pure...Was I her first?"
It was over in seconds. Before she even realized what she was about to do, Huntress lay one hand behind Sylvestri's head and one on his chin. In one quick, spinning motion, Sylvestri's neck was broken, the resounding crack echoing in Huntress' ears. She let Sylvestri fall to the floor, then slid to her knees, spent.
Barbara entered the balcony and headed toward the railing. Looking out over the city with worried eyes, she tried to believe that Huntress was safe. Hearing a scraping sound behind her, Barbara spun her wheelchair around and was surprised to see Helena seated in a corner of the balcony.
"Helena! God! I didn't hear you come in. Reese called and I was worried about you." As Barbara spoke, she slowly moved closer to Helena.
Barbara was worried before, but now she felt a chill run through her as she drew closer to Helena. She noted the way Helena sat staring at some unseen point in front of her, knees pulled up under her chin; the way she didn't meet Barbara's eyes when she responded. Something was very wrong here.
The question surprised Barbara slightly and she glanced over at the room beyond.
"She's sleeping actually. We had a long talk. I think..."
"I found him." Helena spoke in monotone, never once meeting Barbara's eyes.
Barbara edged closer and noticed a tear in Helena's jacket, that the area around the tear appeared wet. Coming along side her, Barbara reached for the tear.
"Helena...you're bleeding!" She reached for Helena's hand. "C'mon. Inside, now!"
Helena rose slowly to her feet and followed Barbara into the Clocktower. She sat down on the couch as Barbara went to get first aid supplies. When Barbara returned, Helena was still seated in the same spot, staring at the floor.
"Take that off," Barbara said, indicating Helena's jacket. Barbara winced as the jacket was removed revealing the wounded shoulder beneath.
"Helena! That's a gunshot wound!"
Helena gazed at her right shoulder as though just seeing the wound for the first time.
"It's no big deal - went straight through."
Barbara moved the strap of Helena's tank top, so she could get to the wound more easily. It was already showing small signs of healing. Barbara frowned.
How long had Helena waited before coming back to the Clocktower? How long had she been out there on the balcony?
Barbara began the task of cleaning the wound. She gently dabbed antiseptic on the area. Helena didn't wince in pain, didn't flinch in annoyance like she usually did when Barbara had to patch her up. Instead, there was no reaction at all.
What had happened out there?
She didn't have to wait long for an answer.
"I killed him," Helena blurted out. "I killed Sylvestri."