Disclaimers: Not mine.
Feedback: Hell, yeah!
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Meanwhile, somewhere in Sunnydale . . .
Drusilla sat on the bench, shivering and shaking, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around herself. She had seen it, what was going to happen, yet she still hadn't prepared herself for the devestating loss she had suffered.
'My sweet William,' she thought, 'has gone to the pastures with his maiden. But the milk will sour with the scent of ashes.'
Cool, salty tears ran down her pale cheeks and onto her old-fashioned dress, and she ran her fists across her face in a childlike manner. Hugging herself closer, the pale girl sighed, wallowing in her misery.
'I am alone. Grandmummy is gone, and the knight is lost . . .' her thoughts trailed off as the vampire sensed a familiar presence, one that reeked of home, of death and torture and pain and blood. It was lovely.
"My Angel?" she whispered, her voice filled with a hushed awe.
The tall, muscular man stepped out of the shadows, a wicked glint in his amber eyes. He approached Drusilla, moving fluidly and gracefully, like a lion stalking it's prey. He stroked her raven curls with one rough palm, entwining the silky strands around his fingers and grinning when his Childe whimpered and leaned into his touch.
"That's right," he purred, "I'm back."
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Author's Note: So that's it, folks, that's all she wrote . . . for this story, at least. Wow, I can't believe I'm finished. What a long, mild ride it's been . . . and I've enjoyed every minute of it. If you wanna sequel, just holler. Hope you liked the story, despite it's many flaws, and thank you for taking your time to read it all.
Feedback: Hell, yeah!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Meanwhile, somewhere in Sunnydale . . .
Drusilla sat on the bench, shivering and shaking, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around herself. She had seen it, what was going to happen, yet she still hadn't prepared herself for the devestating loss she had suffered.
'My sweet William,' she thought, 'has gone to the pastures with his maiden. But the milk will sour with the scent of ashes.'
Cool, salty tears ran down her pale cheeks and onto her old-fashioned dress, and she ran her fists across her face in a childlike manner. Hugging herself closer, the pale girl sighed, wallowing in her misery.
'I am alone. Grandmummy is gone, and the knight is lost . . .' her thoughts trailed off as the vampire sensed a familiar presence, one that reeked of home, of death and torture and pain and blood. It was lovely.
"My Angel?" she whispered, her voice filled with a hushed awe.
The tall, muscular man stepped out of the shadows, a wicked glint in his amber eyes. He approached Drusilla, moving fluidly and gracefully, like a lion stalking it's prey. He stroked her raven curls with one rough palm, entwining the silky strands around his fingers and grinning when his Childe whimpered and leaned into his touch.
"That's right," he purred, "I'm back."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Author's Note: So that's it, folks, that's all she wrote . . . for this story, at least. Wow, I can't believe I'm finished. What a long, mild ride it's been . . . and I've enjoyed every minute of it. If you wanna sequel, just holler. Hope you liked the story, despite it's many flaws, and thank you for taking your time to read it all.