[Reviews - 63]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2232 times

- Text Size +




a/n: I couldn't leave you hanging all day... it just wasn't right.

Chapter 17
The last thing Buffy remembered was waiting for William with Drusilla. Drusilla was singing some lull-a-bye and then there was nothing. Darkness encompassed her eyes, with shooting red stars. She felt her world shatter, driving her deeper into the darkness. Angry voices yelled without form, muddling her mind. Struggling towards the light in front of her, she felt cold, so frozen in place that she couldn’t move. Unable to maintain concentration, Buffy fell into the oblivion of sleep.

Whispers reached through Buffy’s brain. A soft lexicon breezing through the darkness, opening her mind to the possibilities of life. No right. No wrong. Desires turned to needs and needs turned to desires. Buffy tried to fight too clear her mind, but to no avail. The whispers of the night engulfed her once again, as she slid down the edge of sanity. The deep abyss swallowed Buffy, giving her some peace.

Without any of her senses Buffy felt light, like she was floating, almost flying. The darkness turned to night with stars twinkling around her. Floating through space, Buffy watched shooting comets pass her on their journey around the universe. White turned into the colored spectrum. Whirling stars passed her as she stood in the darkness. Blinking through the hazy fog that muddled her brain, she started to become more aware.
~*~*~

Drusilla moved quickly through the streets with the unconscious body of the Slayer in her arms. The rich smell of the blood Drusilla released was permeating the area. Backtracking and circling on her journey, she headed to the old storefront.

Drusilla carried the Slayer through the backdoor and down the stairs. With as much care as Drusilla could muster, she settled Buffy down on a pallet. Buffy head rolled to the side, revealing Drusilla’s mark. “Wake up my Childe.” Her hand came up to Buffy’s face, caressing her cheek. A low moan escaped from Buffy’s throat. Drusilla knew her journey through the dark abyss was almost over. “Wakey, wakey. The moon is setting. It’s time to rise and shine, my darling girl.”

Moving her head back and forth, Buffy shook the dark fog that covered her mind away. The cobwebs and stars disappeared, bringing the harsh reality into focus for the Slayer. Twin puncture wounds marred her neck and the lack of blood flowing in her veins distressed the primal force inside Buffy. The Slayer. The Chosen One. Or, as Buffy had come to realize that Buffy had been chosen by the One. The spirit, the life force, the soul of the demon-hybrid girl forced on a mission to protect the world. It all entered her on that fateful day in 1996 and it changed her forever. Six years. Buffy knew it now. She survived six years as the Slayer. Longer than most survived, but still so short. Tears formed in her closed eyes, Buffy could feel them tickling under her eyelids, leaking past the soft flap of skin. She knew that she would never be the woman her mother begged her to try to be. She wouldn’t get an opportunity to tell her friends in New York how really special they are. She’d never see Xander or Willow again. She’d never see Giles smile proudly at her. She would never go back and yell at her sister for stealing her clothes or makeup. She’d never again be reprimanded by her mother for sneaking out of the house. The tears flowed freely from her eyes and traveled down her dirty face, each filled with sorrow and regret.

“Wake up, my baby.” Buffy felt the tug of Drusilla and started to open her wet eyes. “Shh, no need to cry my child, you will be here soon.” The room reeked of rotting flesh and sadness. Buffy didn’t have to have light to know that this was used as a torture room.

“Drusilla?” Buffy voice cracked, her mind was still so heavy.

“Shh, Daddy has come to save you. Such a handsome knight, he is.” Drusilla smiled sweetly at Buffy. Her black eyes danced in the dark basement. “He’s going to save you from my two boys, he thinks. Going to lift you up on his trusty stead and ride off in the sunset.” Giggling, Drusilla looked at the staircase and continued. “But my boys won’t let him, you see. You were going to be a toy, but not now. I see that you weren’t meant to be a toy and the stars have foretold it all.” The awe in Drusilla tiny voice drifted over Buffy as she listened to the crazy vampire. “My boys never got along, you know. Daddy likes to break his toys and then he discards them, bad Daddy! My Spike doesn’t like to share his toys, though so you see he has to share. He has to learn to share. You were meant to be William’s, but my darling boy couldn’t decide what kind of toy he wanted.” Buffy nodded as if she knew what Drusilla was talking about. “You are a great warrior, my pretty girl. And, my boys will love you. Love you well. They will have tea and crumpets waiting for you when you wake, my dear girl.”

“Drusilla?” Buffy felt her pulse speed up as Drusilla vamped out, letting her teeth elongate. “Please, don’t.”

“Shh, my girl. It has been written and so shall it be.” Looking at Buffy laying on the floor, Drusilla kneeled down. She lifted her hands and pointed two fingers toward Buffy’s eyes, “Be... in my eyes. Be... in me.” Hypnotized, all fear and doubts left Buffy as she saw the night twirl in Drusilla’s eyes. She didn’t see Drusilla lean forward, didn’t feel her veins yield to her fangs, and didn’t taste the blood that flowed down her throat. The darkness once again swallowed Buffy’s mind whole.
~*~*~

All three men peered into the dusty room at the foot of the stairs. Inside, the bricks were covered in dried blood. Garbage filled the floor, leaving only one path back to a dirty pallet, where Spike used to fuck Drusilla as his victims watched in abject horror. Smiling, he smelled the dead slayer. Her flesh already rotting from lack of blood flow in her arteries and veins. Riga mortis might have already set in, leaving her muscles contorted in a weird posture. Smiling evilly, Spike rubbed his cock through his jeans, “She’s over there mates.”

Looking at Spike and what he was doing, William sneered, “God, you can’t take five minutes not to get off! Can you? Your fucking dick was almost sliced off by your sire and you are still horny.” William pushed past Spike and headed over to where he knew Buffy was laying. He couldn’t mistake her scent as it was so familiar now. Except it was different now. It no longer held warmth and sunshine. It was cold and dead.

Angel followed William, knowing what they would find. Buffy had been drained and by evidence of her crimson lips, she had been turned. Angel used to love that scent. A fresh turn in the morning. It made him hard thinking about the lovely delicious things, he would do to the body before the demon woke up. But that was then and this was now. Angel had a soul and he was remorsefully good. Fighting the good fight and saving the innocent was what his life was like now. It used to be her life. Her calling. Her mission. But not any longer. Her mission was dust in the air, just like all the vampires she had killed. Dust in the air.

a/n: Getting to the part where I haven't written. Updates will slow down.





You must login (register) to review.