3. Bite

[hismasterpiece]

[Drusilla has been away on a combat mission in the mountains. She loves those types of missions; this was her second, and it was a long one. She fed; oh, she fed. Gorged herself on the blood of the fallen enemies that littered the steep, rocky terrain around her.

Turned a few Third Party warriors who seemed attractive enough to turn. She had plans to create her own demon army on the Outside. These fell through when the Organization shipped her back to the enclosure.]

[Voice|Video]

Jilly? I know you from through the window. I've made a doll.

[The video clicks on, and a horrid picture appears: a likeness similar to Jilly, with dark pits instead of eyes and a mouth stitched shut mid-scream. Beside it is a scratched-in number Seven.]

I want you all in my belly.

[/Voice|Video]

[Tonight Drusilla is on a quest to kill whomever she can and to turn whomever she can into vampires. The last thread, chronologically, will go to Buffy (together, possibly, with Faith if Aly and Kyra feel like doing that).]

****SORRY this is forward-dated to AFTER the event ends!

Comments

[hismasterpiece]

In the forest? I have not smelled you before. You smell...

[Dru sniffs the air and smiles slowly.] You smell like ravishment and ruin.

[stillplaying]

[Like ravishment and ruin? The words stop her from any initial reply. From remembering how she did used to live in the woods. How she still misses it.

Ravishment and ruin. One word makes her blush a little. The other, though... Ruin.]

I used to. [Finally remembering to talk. Finally remembering to reply.] Live in the woods.

[hismasterpiece]

Where do you live now, hmmm? And can I come in?

[stillplaying]

[There's something... not right about this woman. Not like Greasy Sae's little granddaughter, who had been harmless to all those around her. Or like Annie, the crazy girl from District Four.

It's something worse. Something almost dangerous.

Her grip on her bow tightens as she shakes her head.] I don't know you.

[hismasterpiece]

[Damn. The invitation was not forthcoming.]

But it could be like a fairy tale! Like a nursery story, little one. You and me in our nursery story.

[stillplaying]

[She knows of tales and of stories. But the concept of fairy tale is a little foreign. A little strange. Even more than that, she fails to see how an invitation into her home would create any kind of story.]

I don't think it would.

[hismasterpiece]

One day, then, we shall meet under a brighter moon. I look forward to it, dolly.

[stillplaying]

[She shakes her head. She's not going to stand here much longer, not going to put up with this strange woman. She's dangerous. Like a mutt.

It's time to go.

But she doesn't turn around. Won't expose her back. Instead, she backs away slowly. Hand on her bow and eyes steady on the woman. Safe.]