Inell's Fanfiction Archive

She moved through the night, keeping to the shadows as she had been taught.

He thought that she did not listen, that she could not comprehend, but she knew more than he would ever imagine. She doubted that he was aware that she had left. She was not supposed to go hunting alone, his fear for her survival forcing her to wait for him. Not tonight though. Tonight, *she* had come to visit. The blonde with the cold eyes and cruel smile. He would stay with her all evening, hunting and doing other things that would end with him screaming in release and the blonde cackling in triumph. No, she was not fond of the blonde at all. Nor did the woman like her. There was always hate in those cold eyes, a promise of a troubled future. He would protect her though, that she knew. As long as he was aware, she would not die at the blonde's hands.

She stood outside a pub, watching through half closed eyes as the shapes moved in front of the light. Loud talking and singing met her ears, drowning out the silence of the night. She scowled, hating the offensive words spoken. Did they not hear the night? Could they not be silent and enjoy the songs it sang? For a moment, she wished them all dead. Laying in pools of blood as the quite blanketed her. Her pupils dilated slightly, remembering the face of her wee sister laying in the dark blood that covered her bed. She closed her eyes, that memory resurfacing as it sometimes did. She had been dead for more than thirteen years, but the memories were fresh. Often they would wake her in the afternoon, cause her to look at her Daddy with contempt and hate before shielding him from that opinion. She loved her Daddy. He had chosen her, made her his. He cared for her.

She frowned, moving back into the shadows and away from the loud pub. It was not wise to hunt in a public place. That was another lesson her Daddy had taught her. He had done his best to teach her, but she knew she disappointed him. He had been obsessed with her beauty, with her innocence, with her gift, courting her for more than half a year. When he had finished, she had begged for her death. She knew at that moment, looking into those dark eyes, that her destiny had been written before she had been conceived. She was to be his, to belong to him. Yet, he did not belong to her. No, he belonged to the blonde that wanted her dead. She owned nothing except the pretty dollies he would bring her at times. He believed her to be a child, for some reason. She could not understand why he failed to see the truth. She had heard him talking to his blonde, the two laughing over her insanity and ramblings. She did not understand why he thought her insane.

She was not insane. She knew that now. There was a time, when her own blood ran through her veins and her heart beat rapidly, that she thought she was insane. That she was the devil's tool, meant to destroy all those she loved. He had seen that weakness, her Daddy had. He had used it against her, causing her to fall, to beg for her own death rather than face living. Now, she understood. Far more clearly than she ever would have while alive. In that, she could thank him for bringing her death. Things were so much clearer when she had awaken with his blood running through her. With time, she had learned even more. She was growing stronger, more powerful. The blood of her victims ensuring her survival. Yet, he did not see that growth. He still believed her to be the way she had been then, when she lay at his feet begging for mercy, for forgiveness for her sins. No, she was not crazy, nor was she the devil's instrument. She was simply Drusilla.

She smiled, the soft curves of her lips making her face appear innocent and childlike. She knew she was beautiful, having grown up hearing the compliments. It had never mattered to her before, that beauty. She had wanted to serve God, her beauty becoming a hindrance as she had aged. She had heard God's voice though, knew of his greatness. Beauty did not matter in such serious things. Now, it helped her survive. She still heard God's voice, not sure any longer what sort of God spoke to her. She had been teaching herself, learning all that she could since her death. There were so many Gods, so many demons. Which spoke to her? She did not care, not any longer. She accepted His words, thankful that she could hear what others could not. Her Daddy did not hear, so she knew not to tell him what she heard. It only made him angry to hear the things that he was not allowed to listen to. He would hurt her, causing her such pain, yet, at the same time, such pleasure that she would beg for more. And he would give it. He cared for her.

Drusilla moved through the familiar alleys, wondering if *she* had left him yet. She never stayed long, only days at the most. Yet, during that time, Drusilla had to realize that she was truly alone. Daddy loved her and wanted her, but he forgot her as soon as *she* came around. Who would care for her if *she* took Daddy away? Drusilla knew she was not as helpless as her Daddy believed, but she also knew she could not survive alone. She needed someone to protect her, to love her, to cherish her. She had imagined that that man was her Daddy, but now she was unclear. The stars whispered things to her, muffled words that made no sense. They were trying to confuse her, to make her the way she had been before. They would not succeed. She would never be like that again. She was a vampire now, not some weak human. She was Drusilla, strong and powerful even if no one saw it.

She moved into an alley, attracted by the scent of blood in the air. She paused, her dark eyes looking over the form of the man before her. He was kneeling, his hands searching the waistcoat of a man laying on the wet stone. Blood was thick in the air, coating the pale flesh of the kneeling man's hands. She inhaled the scent, amazed yet again that blood smelled so differently each time she smelled it. The man kneeling looked up at her then and she froze, struck by the depths in his eyes. She stood transfixed, having never seen such darkness in a human before. He was beautiful. Without speaking, she moved forward. She saw his eyes move around the alley, looking for a retreat or for witnesses, which she was not sure. She ran her eyes over his light brown hair, falling from the leather strap holding it back and brushing his shoulders. A scar above his left eye caught her attention before she moved her eyes down his nose and across his sharp cheekbones. Two pink lips lay below his nose, parted slightly. She could see his teeth and his tongue before she continued on her perusal. He was beautiful, lean and muscular and dark. Not as big as her Daddy, but pleasant none the less. She saw him drop the knife, his eyes holding several emotions. Fear, curiosity, anger, desire. She smiled upon seeing the latter, lifting her hand to touch his cheek.

"Pretty dolly," she whispered, feeling his warmth beneath her fingertips. She wondered why he did not flee, did not fight her, did not speak. Instead, he stood straighter, his blue eyes staring into hers as he moved his cheek against her hand. She closed her eyes, listening to the suddenly clear voices inside her head. She smiled, opening her eyes again and looking at him. She was only thirteen, much too young to take a childe. There was so much she did not understand yet herself. But, she knew her Daddy could teach him. Could teach them both. She could not kill this man, nor could she let him live. She moved her fingers over his lips, having never taken the time feel warmth during her life. The only man she had been with had been her Daddy and he was so cold. This beautiful man was her warmth. The light in her darkness. She saw his lips part under her fingers, his tongue moving out and swiping across them. She giggled, her eyes still on his. "What is your name, pretty pet?"

"William," he said, his accent thick and his voice husky.

She nodded, moving her hand down his neck. She felt his heart beat speeding up. Thump, thump, thump. She knew looking into those eyes that he was the one. He would be there when that blonde harlot took her Daddy away as the stars promised her would happen. He would love her and protect her and understand her. She moved her lips over his, wanting to taste his warmth once. She felt him stiffen in surprise, felt his confusion as her tongue slid inside his warm mouth. He could not understand his reaction anymore than she could. She pulled back, smiling as she saw him waver slightly. "You are mine, William. Always and forever."

"Yours?" he repeated, his voice holding confusion as his eyes seemed to accept her words.

"Mine," she whispered, moving her mouth to his ear. "I am Drusilla," she said, pressing her body against his. "You may call me sire."

As soon as she had finished whispering the words, she moved her head, her teeth piercing his neck as he arched against her. They stood together in the dirty alley, the dead man laying at their feet. She savored his blood, pulling back when she felt him weaken and his heart beat begin to fade. She bit into her wrist, forcing him to drink of her. He slowly began to lick at her blood, making her smile. When she felt that he had had enough, she pulled her wrist away, moving to sit on the wet alley stone. She held him in her arms as he died, his beautiful face being caressed by her fingers. Soon, he would awaken and she would no longer be alone. She smiled softly, humming as she waited for him to join her, and the stars sang.