Jacqueline Maracebo Masson

Yes, my accent is a bit British, but my native language is French. No, I am not French myself, so feel free to eat Freedom Fries in my presence. I’m from Senegal, born outside the capital, Dakar. That’s in Africa, on the West Coast. Ah, no, I have never had the pleasure of meeting President Mandella, or of visiting South Africa. Did I mention that I’m from the West Coast? It may look small on a map, but I assure you that Africa is a large continent.

I came to live in England for several years by unusual circumstances. When I was a younger woman, my town came to the attention of some wandering monsters. At first, people thought that we had a serial killer in our midst, but after a few sightings of the creatures the truth was known. My mother comes from a long line of medicine women, and so we naturally led the fight against them. I must admit that I was reluctant at first, but my mother gave me the courage to act. After we killed them, I realized that I wanted to dedicate my life to the elimination of the monsters, so I studied hard and my mother made enquires among her contacts. Eventually, I received a post from the Watchers’ Council inviting me to England to live and study.

I threw myself into my work as soon as I set foot upon English soil. It was thrilling, at first, as I anticipated my observation shifting to direct action. Very soon, however, I learned that the Watchers’ took their name very literally. We never acted, and we never would act, and as long as I was a part of the “we” then I would never act. I tried to make myself at peace with this. Early in 1996, I was brought to assist in the Cruciamentum Rite for the Slayer. Upon the Slayer’s 18th birthday, her Watcher temporarily saps her powers without her knowledge, and she is forced to fight a seasoned vampire, alone. It was an honor for me to even assist in this, as I had served so little time in my training. But when she arrived, so confused by her loss of strength and so helpless, I felt only my own helplessness. I decided that night that I was only helpless as long as I chose to be helpless, so I rendered one of my fellows unconscious and brought a weapon to the Slayer. The girl survived, barely, but my career as a Watcher did not. My superiors were furious, and I was dismissed.

Instead of returning home, I traveled to America. I had heard that the next Slayer had been called in Southern California, in Los Angeles. I was unable to find her before her next Watcher was appointed, but I found enough demonic activity in Los Angeles for several Slayers. I have done my best to be helpful there, in my own small way.

Several months ago, I stopped hearing from the few Watcher friends that I had left. I began traveling in an attempt to learn more, and in Hong Kong I discovered that Watchers’ Council was no more. A network that worshiped an ancient evil had swiftly wiped the Watchers off the face of the planet. The Slayer, who was now guarding the hellmouth in Sunnydale, California, was alone. As quickly as I could I made arrangements to fly there, but they were waiting for me. The Bringers, as they are called, were so efficient that even a cast out like myself was not below their notice. I was forced to flee, and spent the next several weeks looking for a means of escape, finally stowing away aboard a cargo ship on route to Los Angeles. The trip took much more precious time, and by the time I reached California again a newspaper told me the incredible news. Sunnydale was gone. Somehow, for the first time on record, the Slayer had destroyed a hellmouth.

But whether she had survived, and if so where she would go next, I did not know. But I knew where I could find out. I infiltrated the records department of Wolfram and Hart, a corporation with many diabolical affiliations. Even their notes had little on the current location of the Slayer, but two other items did catch my attention. First, in destroying the Sunnydale hellmouth, the Slayer had invoked the power of an ancient weapon and used it to empower any potential Slayer. In other words, there was no longer only one Chosen One. I found unconfirmed reports from all over the world of women awakening with Slayer powers. Second, I kept coming across vague reports bearing the name of the same location, Farmingham, New Hampshire. I do not know what will happen there, but I am going there now to find out. If I should meet my end there, I make this next request my dying wish of you who reads this; tell my mother I was not afraid.

Quote: “Don’t worry about me! I’ll hold off the rest so you can stop the others. Go now!”