Disclaimer: I own nothing…not a bloody thing…except my imagination…) Neither do I own the song "Blasphemous Rumours" by Depeche Mode.
All in all…just borrowing from the masters…)
AN: Thanks to my beta; Isabelle.)
AN 2: any mistakes still there are mine and only mine. (Oh! Looks like I do own something!)
"I don't want to start any blasphemous rumours,
but I think that God's got a sick sense of humour
And when I die, I expect to find Him laughing…"
She dragged her fingers through the still water in the birdbath, touched the cold stone that held it; almost reverently.
Something was going to change. She could feel it. The whispering voices, ever present in her mind, always her own but far too many for her to tell apart told her of this. They hissed and cooed, screamed and told her ever so softly of this change, of the woman, the human that would change everything.
They teased the vampire, told her of the girl's heat, of her calm loving spirit, of the relief she would bring. It all sounded so good, too good.
Drusilla was doubtful of what they told her. If it were true so much would change, laughter and tears would find their way back into her life…but to her change had never proven a good thing. There were always pain and darkness in its trail. The world spun round and round, tipping of kilter and came crashing down around her. Never good…
She wished she could understand it, she tried so very hard to understand, but nothing ever made sense. She tried to adapt, tried to continue like before…it never seemed to work…
Drusilla picked up a small leaf floating around in the water. Her wide blue eyes scanned the surrounding trees, not finding its mother. A little willow leaf, all alone in the cold, tranquil water, slightly ragged at the edges but still green. The foreboding feeling grew stronger. Soon, it would happen so dreadfully soon.
The vampire's eyes narrowed as she crushed the leaf it in her pale hand. No…not again, she would…no, could not let it happen again.
London 1860.
She could hear their screams echoing between the walls of the convent. Cries for God to help them, cries for mercy…cries for death. She sat huddled on her narrow bed, the palms of her hands pressed almost painfully to her ears. She didn't want to hear them!
Oh, God…please have mercy…please…
It was all her fault. With bone chilling clarity she knew this, knew it all to well. Why was it happening now? Why now when she had given herself to God? How could He let it happen? She had been good, so very good. Done everything the priests had told her, everything that mother superior had told her. Only the purest thoughts, not listening to the voices, pushing all the pictures away…why wasn't it enough?
Was she in truth so far gone that God didn't even care for her feeble attempts at redemption? Was she as evil as her mother had always told her she was?
Thoughts of her mother brought tears to her eyes. She could still see the older woman if she closed her eyes, see her just as she had looked the last time Drusilla had seen her. Eyes wide with terror, blood all over her white nightgown, blood on her neck…so much blood…blood, blood everywhere…
Her mother had been innocent, her sisters too…her father was as good as they came…Her sisters in the convent were all innocent…Why did it happen to them? Was her evil so great it soiled all things around her? Had she brought this upon them?
He was getting closer. She could feel it in her very being; a hollow call for her to give in, to let it all be over. His voice in her mind, was invading her thoughts, forcing pictures upon her. Red shimmering pictures and the taste of blood…always blood.
With a whimper she stumbled of the bed and raced for the partially closed door. She threw it open, running, desperately keeping her eyes away from the unmoving bodies lying on the floor.
Entering the hallway leading to the mother superiors room, she froze.
Salvation?
An angel stood reclining against one of the walls. It had to be an angel. The light from the doorway behind her, shone like an aura of good around her slender form, making her golden hair shimmer. She was radiant…she was salvation…
Sinking to her knees Drusilla crawled over to the seraph, raised her shaking hands and took the hem of her dress.
"Please…please save me…"
The angel smiled, her blue eyes shining from within and crouching down patted the mortal's dark hair.
"From what little girl?"
"From Satan! He's coming! Please save me good Lady, please, please. I promise to be good, so good, please save me, plea…"
"Hush now." The angel lifted her head and met Drusillas eyes still smiling sweetly. "I can't save you, no one can. God does not save sinners, does not abide with evil. And you, my sweet little girl, are all evil."
"No! Please!" Drusilla tried to unsuccessfully to grab the angels hand as she stood back up, leaving the mortal shivering on the stone floor. The seraphs eyes seemed to change, the light in them suddenly seeming much clearer…and not of any good. The very fires of hell seemed to burn in them.
"Ah! There you are!"
Drusilla turned her head, panic flooding her already frightened mind. He was here!
"What took you so long Angelus?" the angel spoke, mirth in her voice.
"Found this tasty little morsel down the hall couldn't leave her all alone and crying…now could I?"
"Hmpf." With her booted foot she pushed Drusilla forward. "Get this over with. I want to go home."
"Of course lover…" The man's dark smouldering eyes fell upon Drusilla covering at his sire's feet. And she could feel his gaze, burning and freezing her at the same time, darkness and absolute evil creeping across her skin.
"Come along princess, I have a gift for you."
His voice brought her to tears again and then into uncontrollable sobs as he yanked her of the floor. With haste he dragged her into the small chapel and up to the altar. He then pushed the contents on the stone table to the ground, barley noticing the candles setting the tapestry on fire.
He was so close to getting his price now. So close he could almost taste the blood on his tongue. His demon pressed for complete dominance, breaking through his human features and colouring his eyes yellow. Growling it launched for the mortal.
Drusilla screamed when she saw his face, in terror she tried to claw her way out of his painful grip, but instead found herself thrown down on the alter.
He ripped the clothes from her struggling form and laughed as her cries for mercy, cries for her God, reached his ears. The power he held over her weak body was his and his alone. This was so easy. He held her life in his hands, HE did!
"I am your God princess…" he whispered against her ear.
Drusillas eyes clouded over in denial as his sharp nails scraped her exposed breasts, leaving long, slightly bleeding welts behind. This was not happening…she had been good…and he was lying! He was no God…he was no God…
The visions came crashing down on her making her feel the pain before he forced his way into her. She screamed as he moved, the pain exploding from the junction between her legs.
Why? She had been good!
He bit her, his teeth ripping into her neck. Then again…and again, over and over again wherever he could reach and with every trust into her body he bit her again. Her voice finally cracked and left her only to pained whimpers.
He unexpectedly froze and stopped moving, a deep growl leaving his throat. Drusilla felt sick as he pulled out of her, sick at the feel of something warm, as well as of something cold running down the inside of her thighs.
Instantly the visions exploded in her mind. Colours of darkest crimson red and silver indigo, leaving one perfectly clear knowledge behind.
She would die now.
And as his fangs pierced her neck she turned her gaze to the now burning cross at their side. The flames reflecting in her misty eyes she cursed the man nailed to that cross; cursed his father and all the angels. Cursed them all, and then giggled…her head! There was a floating sea of clouds in her head! Soft little clouds and shimmering stars swirling before her wide opened eyes.
Swirling into darkness along with the taste of His blood…
Everything was changing again…
TBC…