A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this on here...but anyway here it
is....
Part 3 - The Past Remembered
*****
William and Lizzy stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His father,
mother, and Molly were waiting for him.
Geoffrey and Ethan, two more of the servants in the Crawford
residence, promptly ascended to stairs to retrieve William's
belonging. William approached his family to bid them farewell.
He shook his father's hand and was slightly surprised when he
pulled him into a hug. He father was usually not one for displays
of affection. He gingerly returned the hug.
"William, my son, don't forget our talk," Elijah said.
"I won't, Father," William replied. Yesterday his father sat
him down in the drawing room and the two of them talked man to
man about what William would be facing. It helped ease his
anxiety... although only slightly.
He turned to his mother to see tears flowing down her cheeks.
He reached out and hugged her. As the two pulled away, Kitty
placed a kiss on his cheek. No words are exchanged. None need
to be.
He nodded goodbye to them all and went out the front door.
Currently, the driver was helping Geoffrey and Ethan load the
trunk onto the carriage. William walked up to the chestnut
stallion patiently waiting for the order to leave. He patted
the horse's muzzle. It was a beautiful creature. Strong.
Powerful. Graceful. The horse grew impatient rather quickly
and it stomped its foot and snorted.
"Okay, okay, just give me a minute," the driver said, moving to
his seat. William took that as his cue to move to the cabin. He
stepped up into the cabin. Geoffrey nodded to him and closed the
door, latching it shut.
William sat back and gazed out of the window, watching the only
world he's ever known float past him, wondering what futures lay
before him.
*****
William had been at Cambridge for three years. He rarely visited home.
He was often too busy with his studies and the journey home was too long
and wearisome. But he sat in the cabin of a train headed for London.
He received the telegram three days ago. His presence was requested
immediately. His father was ill. Tuberculosis. The doctors informed
his mother that he didn't have much longer until the sickness claimed
his life. It wasn't fair. Why did this have to happen to *his* father?
The train lulled to a stop at the London train station all too soon.
Methodically, he got off the train, grabbed his luggage, and proceeded
to find a taxi. He found one easily and, in no time, he was on his
way to his home.
He entered quietly, for fear that he might disturb his father. Lizzy
saw him enter and ran to hug him. She had tears flowing down her
cheeks, from both happiness for seeing her long missed brother and
sadness for her father. William gently kissed her forehead as the two
pulled away.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper.
She nodded her head swiftly.
William took her hand and the two went in search for their mother.
They found her and Molly standing outside the room where William
deduced his father was staying. Molly was busy comforting Kitty who
was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mother?" William whispered, moving towards her.
She released her grasp on Molly and turned to her son. The two
embraced for what seem like hours. William brushed the tears from
her eyes when he pulled away.
"He's been asking for you," his mother whispered.
William nodded and quietly entered the room, closing the door behind
him.
"Father?"
"William, my son? Is that you?" Elijah asked weakly from the bed.
"It is," William said as he approached his father. He was startled
by his father's presence. Gone was the strong, healthy man William
knew and last saw. Here, before him, laid a weak, dying man. It
was then that it struck him. His father really was dying. And no
one could save him. Tears pricked his eyes, but he pushed them back.
Now was not the time to let his emotions take over.
Elijah motioned weakly for him to come closer. He complied, taking
his father's hand in his and kneeling on the side of the bed. Elijah
smiled.
"You're here. I was beginning to worry."
"You know I would have come, Father."
Elijah nodded weakly, "I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time.
William...I...I won't survive tonight."
"Father, don't say that. You'll live to see tomorrow and the one
after that and the one after that. You're not going to die," William
desperately declared, trying to convince his father and himself of
that fact, though they both knew it wouldn't be true.
Elijah shook his head, "Son, you must face reality. It's my time."
"How can you just accept your death, Father, when the rest of us
haven't...can't?"
Coughs racked Elijah's weak body, "William, I need you to listen to
me, please. It will be your job to take care of your mother and
sister. I need -" he was interrupted by another series of coughs
racking his body. "Promise me you'll protect them no matter what.
Promise me..."
"I do, Father. I promise," William whispered as he watched him
slip away.
Elijah smiled and closed his eyes, taking a huge breath. It was the
last breath he took.
"Father?"
No answer. The tears that threatened to fall did.
"Father?" he asked a little louder even though he knew it was futile.
His father was gone.
*****
Slowly, Spike woke up. The pain was the first thing that hit him.
He ached all over. It was immense pain. The second thing that hit
him was his hunger. God, he was hungry. He needed blood. He needed
to replace the blood lost through his still oozing wounds. He groaned
as he opened his eyes.
Lizzy stood in front of him, grinning. He forgot about her because
of the pain. His sister. A vampire. He choked back a sob and looked
at her.
"It's about time you woke up. I was beginning to worry," she said.
Spike just looked at her, not saying a word.
"I think I'm going to go grab something to eat. Want anything?"
He didn't answer.
"Well," she continued, "you need to eat something."
And, with that, she left.
*****
Buffy walked along the cemetery, twirling her stake in her hand.
She hasn't seen Spike since that night in the alley. She wouldn't
admit it, but she was worried. It just wasn't like him to disappear
for more than one day. Maybe I should stop by his crypt before going
home, she thought, just to make sure he's not hiding or something.
She changed her trajectory so that she was heading towards Spike's
crypt.
A scream stopped her in her tracks. She instinctively took off
towards it. She found, among the bushes, a terrified young woman
ruthlessly getting attacked by a vampire. A female one.
She cleared her throat loudly.
The vampiress looked up from her meal. Lizzy. She grinned and
released her grip on the girl, who promptly took off.
"Slayer," Lizzy said.
"Well, you seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know me but I
don't know you," Buffy quipped.
Lizzy smiled, "You can call me Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth?" Buffy shrugged, "Pretty name."
She launched herself at the vampire. Lizzy grabbed hold of her
and threw her in the opposite direction. Buffy hit a tree and fell
to the ground with a thud. Dazed, she returned to her feet. Lizzy
threw a punch which Buffy dodged...barely. The Slayer spun around,
intent on performing a roundhouse kick. Lizzy caught her leg and
twisted, sending Buffy to the ground. Buffy kicked out again,
tripping Lizzy. She held up her stake and jumped on Lizzy. She
tried to ram the stake into her chest. Lizzy, however, was ready.
She grabbed Buffy's hand and flipped her over herself. The two
returned to their feet.
Lizzy kicked high and was met with a counterattack, sending her back
to the ground. She growled, frustrated, and returned to her feet.
Buffy punched her, sending her towards the tree. Buffy approached her
and Lizzy, using the tree to gain altitude, kicked Buffy in the face,
sending her to the ground. She grinned.
"You've caused my brother great pain. And, now, I'll be the one to
cause you pain."
"What?"
Lizzy chuckled, "In time, Slayer, in time."
She turned away from Buffy and moved out of the cemetery, looking
for something to bring her brother.
Spike opened his eyes when he heard the door open. He smelt fear.
Lizzy stepped in front of him, with a young teenaged girl who couldn't
have been more than eighteen. She was crying.
"I've brought you something to eat, brother," Lizzy said.
Spike shook his head, "No."
"I know. I know all about the chip, William," Lizzy said,
misinterpreting his word and with that, she snapped the poor girl's
neck.
Spike closed his eyes. His Little Bit was nothing more than a
soulless killer. A monster.
"Well, now you can't say 'no', can you, brother?" Lizzy put the
neck of the girl in front of Spike's mouth. "Now, eat."
Spike didn't want to. He really, truly didn't, but his hunger won
him over. He felt his face contort and his teeth grow and he sunk
his fangs into the dead girl's neck.
Lizzy grinned, "There. That's a good boy."
When he finished, Lizzy discarded the drained body. She sat on
the table in front of Spike.
"You'll never believe who I ran into tonight. Your master. The
Slayer."
Mention of Buffy perked him up.
"I can see why you like her," she continued, "She's quite the
little trooper, isn't she?"
"You didn't-" Spike couldn't finish.
"Kill her?" Lizzy shook her head, "I wanted to. But not right
now. Time's not right."
Spike relaxed, or, as much as one chained to the ceiling could.
"What is it with you and falling for women above you? You are
truly pathetic."
*****
"Why can't I go?" Lizzy whined.
"Because it is nothing but a boring social event where people get
together to talk about nothing and I know how much you hate those,
Little Bit," William said.
"You hate them, too, and you're still going."
"I have my reasons."
"It's Cecily, isn't it?"
William didn't answer, but his behavior gave him away.
Lizzy shook her head in disgust, "I don't know why you insist on
following her around and writing poetry about her. What do you
see in her, William?"
William got a dreamy look in his eyes, "She's beautiful. Lovely.
Irradiant-"
"She treats you horribly, brother."
William just shrugged, not caring.
"She doesn't deserve you."
"Ah, but it is I who is unworthy of her."
"Why do you degrade yourself so, William?"
William averted his eyes to the clock on the mantle of the fireplace.
"I've got to go." He stood up and kissed Lizzy on the cheek, "Tell
Mother I'll be home in a couple of hours."
Lizzy nodded and watched her brother leave.
William sat alone in the impressive drawing room. He was busy
writing. He put the pen to his mouth, deep in thought.
"Irr-Irradiant is better."
He didn't see the butler carrying a tray of food until he spoke.
"Care for some hors d'oevres, sir?"
William looked up at him, "Uh, quickly, I'm the very spirit of
vexation, but what's another word for 'gleaming?' It's a perfectly
perfect word as many words go, but the bother is nothing rhymes, you
see?"
The butler, looking quite perplexed, smiled tightly and assumed William
didn't care for the food in which he was offering. He left in search
of someone else.
William watched him retreat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw
a figure float down the stairs. He moved his eyes to rest on the
woman. Cecily Addams. He watched as several young men surrounded
her. Potential suitors.
"Cecily," he whispered.
Entranced, William was suddenly inspired and
wrote feverishly, glancing up every now and then to track Cecily's
movements.
She was the inspiration for his many poems, though, he had to admit,
they weren't the best in the world. But...that wasn't what mattered,
right?
Creative juices no longer flowing, William closed his notebook and
stood up. He moved to the little group in which Cecily had joined.
The other woman (aside from Cecily) spoke, "I merely point out that
it's something of a mystery and the police should keep an open mind."
The host of the party looked up, "Ah, William. Favor us with your
opinion. What do you make of this rash of disappearances sweeping
through our town - animal or thieves?"
Matter-of-factly, William answered, "I prefer not to think of such
dark, ugly business at all. That's what the police are for." He
stole a glance at Cecily, who averted her eyes elsewhere. He
continued, "I prefer placing my energies into creating things of
beauty." He held up his poem for emphasis.
The host snatched the poem away, "I see. Well, don't withhold,
William."
"Please, rescue us from a dreary topic," the woman said.
William reached over, intent on grabbing the paper back, "Careful."
The man looked at him, daring him to continue.
William almost did. Almost stood up for himself, but backed down,
"The inks are still wet. Please, it's not finished."
The man returned his eyes to poem. "Don't be shy." He began to
read and William looked over at Cecily, feelings of love evident
in his eyes. "'My heart expands/ 'Tis grown a bulge in it/ Inspired
by your beauty effulgent.' Effulgent?"
Laughter erupted, except from Cecily, who, looked rather embarrassed
left. William snatched the poem back, and, humiliated, headed for
Cecily.
"You know," a man said, "That's actually one of his better compositions."
More laughter.
"Haven't you heard? They call him 'William the Bloody' because of
his bloody awful poetry," the woman said.
"It suits him," the host said, "I'd rather have a railroad spike
through my head than listen to that awful stuff."
The crowd erupted again.
William slowly approached Cecily, who sat on a sofa, looking out
of the window.
"Cecily?"
She looked at him, "Oh, leave me alone."
She returned her gaze to the window and fanned herself.
William moved to sit next to her, "Oh, they're vulgarians. They're
not like you and I."
"You and I? William, I'm going to ask you a very personal question
and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?"
He nodded, allowing her to continue.
"Your poetry. They're not written about me, are they?"
"They're about how I feel."
"Yes, but are they about me?"
William looked at her intently, "Every syllable."
Cecily ran her hand across her forehead and looked around, as
though she was trying to find a way to escape, "Oh, God."
"I know. It's sudden and, please, if they're no good, they're
only words. But the feeling behind them. I love you, Cecily."
"Please, stop," she said, turning her back to him, unable to look
at him.
"I...I know I'm a bad poet, but I'm a good man. All I ask is that
you try to see me-"
She turned back around, "But I don't see you, William. That's the
problem. You're nothing to me, William." She stood up, "You're
beneath me." And she left.
Heartbroken, William left the party, ripping up his poems, his love,
as he walked along the cobblestone street. Too engrossed in his pain,
he didn't see the man walking towards him, until he ran into him. The
impact caused William to drop his work.
"Bloody...watch where you're going."
He walked until he found himself in a small stable. He sat down on
a bale of hay, tears falling, ripping the final pieces.
"And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from
heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears."
William looked at the woman who had spoken.
"Nothing. I wish to be alone."
The woman, however, had no plans to leave, "Oh, I see you. A man
surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength. His vision. His
glory." She moved closer, motioning with her hand, "That and baby
burning fish swimming around your head."
William stood up and backed away, "That's quite close enough.
I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You won't be getting my
purse, I tell you."
The woman bent forward, looking as though that was something
amusing, "Don't need a purse."
She moved closer still. William stayed put. He seemed entranced,
mesmerized by her.
"Your wealth lies here," she placed her hand on his chest, over his
heart, "And here," she moved her hand to his forehead. "In the
spirit and-" she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "imagination.
You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."
"Yes. Uh, I mean no. I mean, Mother's expecting me."
"I know what you want. Something glowing, glistening. Something...
effulgent."
"Effulgent?" William repeated, barely a whisper.
"Do you want it?"
She placed William's hand over her heart, "Yes. God, yes."
The woman looked at his hand. When she returned her eyes to his,
her face had changed. Her eyes were yellow. Her teeth - jagged
and sharp. William was startled but he didn't move.
He stood, watching, as she peeled back his collar, exposing the
bare flesh of his neck. Slowly, she bit down.
"Ow...ow....ow! OW! Oh! Oh!" William cried out, collapsing to
his knees as the vampire named Drusilla drained him of his life's
blood.
End Part 3
is....
Part 3 - The Past Remembered
*****
William and Lizzy stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His father,
mother, and Molly were waiting for him.
Geoffrey and Ethan, two more of the servants in the Crawford
residence, promptly ascended to stairs to retrieve William's
belonging. William approached his family to bid them farewell.
He shook his father's hand and was slightly surprised when he
pulled him into a hug. He father was usually not one for displays
of affection. He gingerly returned the hug.
"William, my son, don't forget our talk," Elijah said.
"I won't, Father," William replied. Yesterday his father sat
him down in the drawing room and the two of them talked man to
man about what William would be facing. It helped ease his
anxiety... although only slightly.
He turned to his mother to see tears flowing down her cheeks.
He reached out and hugged her. As the two pulled away, Kitty
placed a kiss on his cheek. No words are exchanged. None need
to be.
He nodded goodbye to them all and went out the front door.
Currently, the driver was helping Geoffrey and Ethan load the
trunk onto the carriage. William walked up to the chestnut
stallion patiently waiting for the order to leave. He patted
the horse's muzzle. It was a beautiful creature. Strong.
Powerful. Graceful. The horse grew impatient rather quickly
and it stomped its foot and snorted.
"Okay, okay, just give me a minute," the driver said, moving to
his seat. William took that as his cue to move to the cabin. He
stepped up into the cabin. Geoffrey nodded to him and closed the
door, latching it shut.
William sat back and gazed out of the window, watching the only
world he's ever known float past him, wondering what futures lay
before him.
*****
William had been at Cambridge for three years. He rarely visited home.
He was often too busy with his studies and the journey home was too long
and wearisome. But he sat in the cabin of a train headed for London.
He received the telegram three days ago. His presence was requested
immediately. His father was ill. Tuberculosis. The doctors informed
his mother that he didn't have much longer until the sickness claimed
his life. It wasn't fair. Why did this have to happen to *his* father?
The train lulled to a stop at the London train station all too soon.
Methodically, he got off the train, grabbed his luggage, and proceeded
to find a taxi. He found one easily and, in no time, he was on his
way to his home.
He entered quietly, for fear that he might disturb his father. Lizzy
saw him enter and ran to hug him. She had tears flowing down her
cheeks, from both happiness for seeing her long missed brother and
sadness for her father. William gently kissed her forehead as the two
pulled away.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper.
She nodded her head swiftly.
William took her hand and the two went in search for their mother.
They found her and Molly standing outside the room where William
deduced his father was staying. Molly was busy comforting Kitty who
was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Mother?" William whispered, moving towards her.
She released her grasp on Molly and turned to her son. The two
embraced for what seem like hours. William brushed the tears from
her eyes when he pulled away.
"He's been asking for you," his mother whispered.
William nodded and quietly entered the room, closing the door behind
him.
"Father?"
"William, my son? Is that you?" Elijah asked weakly from the bed.
"It is," William said as he approached his father. He was startled
by his father's presence. Gone was the strong, healthy man William
knew and last saw. Here, before him, laid a weak, dying man. It
was then that it struck him. His father really was dying. And no
one could save him. Tears pricked his eyes, but he pushed them back.
Now was not the time to let his emotions take over.
Elijah motioned weakly for him to come closer. He complied, taking
his father's hand in his and kneeling on the side of the bed. Elijah
smiled.
"You're here. I was beginning to worry."
"You know I would have come, Father."
Elijah nodded weakly, "I was afraid you wouldn't make it in time.
William...I...I won't survive tonight."
"Father, don't say that. You'll live to see tomorrow and the one
after that and the one after that. You're not going to die," William
desperately declared, trying to convince his father and himself of
that fact, though they both knew it wouldn't be true.
Elijah shook his head, "Son, you must face reality. It's my time."
"How can you just accept your death, Father, when the rest of us
haven't...can't?"
Coughs racked Elijah's weak body, "William, I need you to listen to
me, please. It will be your job to take care of your mother and
sister. I need -" he was interrupted by another series of coughs
racking his body. "Promise me you'll protect them no matter what.
Promise me..."
"I do, Father. I promise," William whispered as he watched him
slip away.
Elijah smiled and closed his eyes, taking a huge breath. It was the
last breath he took.
"Father?"
No answer. The tears that threatened to fall did.
"Father?" he asked a little louder even though he knew it was futile.
His father was gone.
*****
Slowly, Spike woke up. The pain was the first thing that hit him.
He ached all over. It was immense pain. The second thing that hit
him was his hunger. God, he was hungry. He needed blood. He needed
to replace the blood lost through his still oozing wounds. He groaned
as he opened his eyes.
Lizzy stood in front of him, grinning. He forgot about her because
of the pain. His sister. A vampire. He choked back a sob and looked
at her.
"It's about time you woke up. I was beginning to worry," she said.
Spike just looked at her, not saying a word.
"I think I'm going to go grab something to eat. Want anything?"
He didn't answer.
"Well," she continued, "you need to eat something."
And, with that, she left.
*****
Buffy walked along the cemetery, twirling her stake in her hand.
She hasn't seen Spike since that night in the alley. She wouldn't
admit it, but she was worried. It just wasn't like him to disappear
for more than one day. Maybe I should stop by his crypt before going
home, she thought, just to make sure he's not hiding or something.
She changed her trajectory so that she was heading towards Spike's
crypt.
A scream stopped her in her tracks. She instinctively took off
towards it. She found, among the bushes, a terrified young woman
ruthlessly getting attacked by a vampire. A female one.
She cleared her throat loudly.
The vampiress looked up from her meal. Lizzy. She grinned and
released her grip on the girl, who promptly took off.
"Slayer," Lizzy said.
"Well, you seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know me but I
don't know you," Buffy quipped.
Lizzy smiled, "You can call me Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth?" Buffy shrugged, "Pretty name."
She launched herself at the vampire. Lizzy grabbed hold of her
and threw her in the opposite direction. Buffy hit a tree and fell
to the ground with a thud. Dazed, she returned to her feet. Lizzy
threw a punch which Buffy dodged...barely. The Slayer spun around,
intent on performing a roundhouse kick. Lizzy caught her leg and
twisted, sending Buffy to the ground. Buffy kicked out again,
tripping Lizzy. She held up her stake and jumped on Lizzy. She
tried to ram the stake into her chest. Lizzy, however, was ready.
She grabbed Buffy's hand and flipped her over herself. The two
returned to their feet.
Lizzy kicked high and was met with a counterattack, sending her back
to the ground. She growled, frustrated, and returned to her feet.
Buffy punched her, sending her towards the tree. Buffy approached her
and Lizzy, using the tree to gain altitude, kicked Buffy in the face,
sending her to the ground. She grinned.
"You've caused my brother great pain. And, now, I'll be the one to
cause you pain."
"What?"
Lizzy chuckled, "In time, Slayer, in time."
She turned away from Buffy and moved out of the cemetery, looking
for something to bring her brother.
Spike opened his eyes when he heard the door open. He smelt fear.
Lizzy stepped in front of him, with a young teenaged girl who couldn't
have been more than eighteen. She was crying.
"I've brought you something to eat, brother," Lizzy said.
Spike shook his head, "No."
"I know. I know all about the chip, William," Lizzy said,
misinterpreting his word and with that, she snapped the poor girl's
neck.
Spike closed his eyes. His Little Bit was nothing more than a
soulless killer. A monster.
"Well, now you can't say 'no', can you, brother?" Lizzy put the
neck of the girl in front of Spike's mouth. "Now, eat."
Spike didn't want to. He really, truly didn't, but his hunger won
him over. He felt his face contort and his teeth grow and he sunk
his fangs into the dead girl's neck.
Lizzy grinned, "There. That's a good boy."
When he finished, Lizzy discarded the drained body. She sat on
the table in front of Spike.
"You'll never believe who I ran into tonight. Your master. The
Slayer."
Mention of Buffy perked him up.
"I can see why you like her," she continued, "She's quite the
little trooper, isn't she?"
"You didn't-" Spike couldn't finish.
"Kill her?" Lizzy shook her head, "I wanted to. But not right
now. Time's not right."
Spike relaxed, or, as much as one chained to the ceiling could.
"What is it with you and falling for women above you? You are
truly pathetic."
*****
"Why can't I go?" Lizzy whined.
"Because it is nothing but a boring social event where people get
together to talk about nothing and I know how much you hate those,
Little Bit," William said.
"You hate them, too, and you're still going."
"I have my reasons."
"It's Cecily, isn't it?"
William didn't answer, but his behavior gave him away.
Lizzy shook her head in disgust, "I don't know why you insist on
following her around and writing poetry about her. What do you
see in her, William?"
William got a dreamy look in his eyes, "She's beautiful. Lovely.
Irradiant-"
"She treats you horribly, brother."
William just shrugged, not caring.
"She doesn't deserve you."
"Ah, but it is I who is unworthy of her."
"Why do you degrade yourself so, William?"
William averted his eyes to the clock on the mantle of the fireplace.
"I've got to go." He stood up and kissed Lizzy on the cheek, "Tell
Mother I'll be home in a couple of hours."
Lizzy nodded and watched her brother leave.
William sat alone in the impressive drawing room. He was busy
writing. He put the pen to his mouth, deep in thought.
"Irr-Irradiant is better."
He didn't see the butler carrying a tray of food until he spoke.
"Care for some hors d'oevres, sir?"
William looked up at him, "Uh, quickly, I'm the very spirit of
vexation, but what's another word for 'gleaming?' It's a perfectly
perfect word as many words go, but the bother is nothing rhymes, you
see?"
The butler, looking quite perplexed, smiled tightly and assumed William
didn't care for the food in which he was offering. He left in search
of someone else.
William watched him retreat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw
a figure float down the stairs. He moved his eyes to rest on the
woman. Cecily Addams. He watched as several young men surrounded
her. Potential suitors.
"Cecily," he whispered.
Entranced, William was suddenly inspired and
wrote feverishly, glancing up every now and then to track Cecily's
movements.
She was the inspiration for his many poems, though, he had to admit,
they weren't the best in the world. But...that wasn't what mattered,
right?
Creative juices no longer flowing, William closed his notebook and
stood up. He moved to the little group in which Cecily had joined.
The other woman (aside from Cecily) spoke, "I merely point out that
it's something of a mystery and the police should keep an open mind."
The host of the party looked up, "Ah, William. Favor us with your
opinion. What do you make of this rash of disappearances sweeping
through our town - animal or thieves?"
Matter-of-factly, William answered, "I prefer not to think of such
dark, ugly business at all. That's what the police are for." He
stole a glance at Cecily, who averted her eyes elsewhere. He
continued, "I prefer placing my energies into creating things of
beauty." He held up his poem for emphasis.
The host snatched the poem away, "I see. Well, don't withhold,
William."
"Please, rescue us from a dreary topic," the woman said.
William reached over, intent on grabbing the paper back, "Careful."
The man looked at him, daring him to continue.
William almost did. Almost stood up for himself, but backed down,
"The inks are still wet. Please, it's not finished."
The man returned his eyes to poem. "Don't be shy." He began to
read and William looked over at Cecily, feelings of love evident
in his eyes. "'My heart expands/ 'Tis grown a bulge in it/ Inspired
by your beauty effulgent.' Effulgent?"
Laughter erupted, except from Cecily, who, looked rather embarrassed
left. William snatched the poem back, and, humiliated, headed for
Cecily.
"You know," a man said, "That's actually one of his better compositions."
More laughter.
"Haven't you heard? They call him 'William the Bloody' because of
his bloody awful poetry," the woman said.
"It suits him," the host said, "I'd rather have a railroad spike
through my head than listen to that awful stuff."
The crowd erupted again.
William slowly approached Cecily, who sat on a sofa, looking out
of the window.
"Cecily?"
She looked at him, "Oh, leave me alone."
She returned her gaze to the window and fanned herself.
William moved to sit next to her, "Oh, they're vulgarians. They're
not like you and I."
"You and I? William, I'm going to ask you a very personal question
and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?"
He nodded, allowing her to continue.
"Your poetry. They're not written about me, are they?"
"They're about how I feel."
"Yes, but are they about me?"
William looked at her intently, "Every syllable."
Cecily ran her hand across her forehead and looked around, as
though she was trying to find a way to escape, "Oh, God."
"I know. It's sudden and, please, if they're no good, they're
only words. But the feeling behind them. I love you, Cecily."
"Please, stop," she said, turning her back to him, unable to look
at him.
"I...I know I'm a bad poet, but I'm a good man. All I ask is that
you try to see me-"
She turned back around, "But I don't see you, William. That's the
problem. You're nothing to me, William." She stood up, "You're
beneath me." And she left.
Heartbroken, William left the party, ripping up his poems, his love,
as he walked along the cobblestone street. Too engrossed in his pain,
he didn't see the man walking towards him, until he ran into him. The
impact caused William to drop his work.
"Bloody...watch where you're going."
He walked until he found himself in a small stable. He sat down on
a bale of hay, tears falling, ripping the final pieces.
"And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from
heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears."
William looked at the woman who had spoken.
"Nothing. I wish to be alone."
The woman, however, had no plans to leave, "Oh, I see you. A man
surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength. His vision. His
glory." She moved closer, motioning with her hand, "That and baby
burning fish swimming around your head."
William stood up and backed away, "That's quite close enough.
I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You won't be getting my
purse, I tell you."
The woman bent forward, looking as though that was something
amusing, "Don't need a purse."
She moved closer still. William stayed put. He seemed entranced,
mesmerized by her.
"Your wealth lies here," she placed her hand on his chest, over his
heart, "And here," she moved her hand to his forehead. "In the
spirit and-" she leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "imagination.
You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine."
"Yes. Uh, I mean no. I mean, Mother's expecting me."
"I know what you want. Something glowing, glistening. Something...
effulgent."
"Effulgent?" William repeated, barely a whisper.
"Do you want it?"
She placed William's hand over her heart, "Yes. God, yes."
The woman looked at his hand. When she returned her eyes to his,
her face had changed. Her eyes were yellow. Her teeth - jagged
and sharp. William was startled but he didn't move.
He stood, watching, as she peeled back his collar, exposing the
bare flesh of his neck. Slowly, she bit down.
"Ow...ow....ow! OW! Oh! Oh!" William cried out, collapsing to
his knees as the vampire named Drusilla drained him of his life's
blood.
End Part 3