This was supposed to be a fresh start, a do over, an escape from her past. The very thing she was running and both hiding from wasn’t supposed to follow her. She should have known better given her reputation among the very monsters she was chosen to fight and destroy. Should have known that someone, anywhere, would catch wind of one of the original slayers appearing in their territory and that there was a high chance that they would attempt to do something to take her out.
Even after nineteen years of being in this line of work, Faith still had a lot to learn and realize. But if she had already, she would have known of the pissed off demons that lingered in Australia whom caught wind of her arrival and who were fed up with the abundance of slayers. She was there because of a few new slayers had been located and needed to be added to the list, assessed, and to determine whether or not they wanted to attend the school in Scotland to receive proper training. None of that happened because when she finally located the girls, she found them in the worse way possible; dead.
It had all been a setup from the minute she stepped off the plane and began searching for the girls in question. The night she found the bodies of the girls, she hadn’t had time to assess the situation too closely but there weren’t any bite marks on their necks. Before she could look them over to find a possible cause of death, the police had shown up and stormed the place, finding Faith standing over the two girls and despite having no blood on her whatsoever, they cuffed and booked her.
That’d been about a month ago. Her trial was set for two months in advanced but things weren’t looking too good for her. Despite her defense and explanation as to why she had been there and not having a speck of blood on her hands, they had managed to find her finger prints on the murder weapon; which happened to be a nasty hunting knife. So now all she could do was wait and pray to whoever the fuck was listening that she would get out of this shit.
Wentworth was home, however, for now until her trial and if she could get out. It wasn’t too bad, mirrored the prison in California a bit but the women seemed to have a bit more freedom. Which wasn’t too bad, was actually nice because she didn’t feel like a caged animal again. Her only problem? The supposed Top Dog that eyed her every time they passed one another or were in the same area. It was annoying and frustrating and set her on edge.
“You just gonna keep starin’ at me or you gonna tell me what the fuck is your problem?” she finally asked after walking over to Franky, brows arched.
