Submitted for Feedback -- "Cold and Grey"
Small cell, cold and grey.

White sheets on a thin mattress. Just one pillow, flat and overused.

Rusty toilet, looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. Metal bars keeping the outside world away, as dreary as the cell itself.

Huddled up in a corner, arms wrapped around knees. Tear-stained eyes, puffy and red. No cell mate, none wanted.

Samantha was alone in this. She had no friends, no allies. Everyone on her side was dead. Dead or … taken away somewhere.

Cory.

Her son, the one Jason DiSantos once begged her not to have. The son Jason left her because she refused to listen.

Time alone, regret. Wonder.

Was Jason right? Should she have listened? If she had … no cell.

No cold, no grey. No tears.

How many days? She lost count. One week? Two?

Oh, the things they were probably saying at the station. Starnes was loving this. She had to – she finally caught the younger, prettier cop.

No, that was stupid. She was doing her job; nothing personal.

Guards stare. Mumble as they walk away. Crooked cop, they call her. Murderous bitch.

Evil. Tainted.

Was she the only Slayer ever to be called those things? She didn’t know … probably.

Where was the Council? No contact, nothing. Figured … she needed the Watchers, they were too busy watching … something.

Always watching, never doing.

She didn’t do it. She couldn’t have. She was innocent. Too bad they didn’t know it.

Long sigh, another tear. Slowly trickling down her cheek.

Small cell, cold and grey.