CHAPTER FOUR - KNOWLEDGE, AWAKEN US!
"Would you care for a brandy?" Mr Ahmed peered over his spectacles at his guest. "I often find this a pleasant time of night for one." He laughed jovially, in a way that put Django at ease, despite the serious nature of his visit. They were sat in Mr Ahmed's office, a cramped little place loaded with bookshelves and filing cabinets. The blinds were drawn and the desk lamp was dim.
Django nodded and smiled at the learned man's question and took the glass offered. Mr Ahmed was a West Indies man in his fifties. His knowledge of the local area and it's history was sure to be impressive. He had himself written various papers on the study of the occult. "Thank you." Django smiled warmly as he took a sip.
"It's curious." Mr Ahmed asserted looking through the books and files on his desk. "There have been many stories about the man you seek of course, but no real facts have been documented. A ghost of a man, you might say. However," here the scholar became most serious and grim in his expression and speech, "you can believe me when I say that Murder Legendre has much of the corrupt officials and authorities in his pocket. He has much power here, although few can say they've even met him. The location of his plantation is of course an open secret. Most locals know where to find it. It's just that....he had seemed so quiet for so long that some perhaps hoped that he'd gone. The plantation under it's unknown owner has continued to match it's sugar cane flow over the years. "
Django continued listening. This is what he was here for after all. All the information he could find on this mysterious but infamous nemesis who had upset his girlfriend so much. "It is in some ways unfortunate that you two came to Haiti." Mr Ahmed admitted to the young demon hunter who had sought out his counsel. "Drusilla is a very well known vampire. A legend, like her former companions. Indeed, her loveliness is well known. It would not surprise me if a man as well versed in the occult as Murder Legendre was already well informed of her for some time. However even if his eyes and ears of world gossip have slipped over time, he would certainly have sensed her the very moment you both set foot on Haiti."
Mr Ahmed gave a few moments for this to sink in. "And just as her loveliness is well renowned, do not doubt that her ambition and beguiling ways are not equally known." Django knew this of course. Had he himself not heard of her before that fateful meeting that had changed his world? "This man who has made himself your enemy would know of the potential threat Drusilla poses and would naturally seek to combat the threat, to his hold over the area. He would also seek to make her his own pawn. He is fond of fine things, let us say. I think you can see how dangerous this would make your own position?"
Django met that gaze on him grimly. "How would someone, say in a me kind of way, destroy this fiend? How do I kill the Zombie Master?" His voice was a steel vice.
Mr Ahmed laughed loudly but not unkindly here. Pouring himself another brandy for himself and his guest, he chuckled merrily despite the deadly conversation. "It would not be easy I imagine. Nor can you, I'm afraid, expect much help. However, just as there have been legends of his origins and early exploits, so there have been tales of his weakness." The scholar turned grave again as he addressed Django. "We have a long night before us, my young friend. And after this talk is over, you must not seek me out again. It is not safe, even for a man like me to oppose the way things are around here. Do you understand?"
Django nodded and downed his brandy. It burned his chest but he needed that fire in him.
"Good." Mr Ahmed began again.
****
Drusilla was out in her carriage again. She knew it was not wise but she had felt the need to sing to her pet beneath the waves one more time. It was coming closer to the time, when she would have to take her chance with the summoning. Haiti was already becoming too much of a hotbed for her and Django. Django of course was off on a dangerous pursuit of his own. Out looking for knowledge on the fiend who plagued them.
There had been another reason too of course, for her nocturnal journey. Drusilla stepped out of her carriage at it reached it's second destination of the night. The village inn was very rowdy tonight. Rum was flowing freely. Drusilla made a beeline straight for the bar, ignoring the rude patrons who crossed themselves at her presence. The old woman who had become her mentor, in the ways of the island's magic, had seen (or sensed?) her already and was on her way to meet her new patron. "My child?" the old Haitian woman said.
"Do you have something for me?" Drusilla asked, almost feeling in a trance. There were so many of the villagers here and it made Drusilla tingle to be here so.
"Of course, child." the woman understood at once. "But you must not linger out long, my little daughter of the night." the woman reproached with concern. "It grows more dangerous for you and those of us who have befriended you."
"I feel like a nibble." Drusilla stated, knowing it was wrong of her.
"My child, you know full well that you must heed my warning." the woman scolded. "Otherwise I cannot and will not help you." Her tone softened some. "I can however fetch you some chicken blood to help you on your way."
****
"The beings who gave Legendre his power are not fools." Mr Ahmed was relating to Django in the study. "If folktale is to be acknowledged, they too were wary of his becoming too threatening. It is sometimes said that for his power to flourish, he must keep his soul locked away. They took his soul from him and transformed it into a moth in a jar. If some brave....or foolish soul were to try and break this jar and free the moth...."
"Go on." Django gripped the arms of his chair and pressed forward. Now he was getting somewhere, or else damn the over-imaginative fish wives!
"It is said, his acts would be visited back upon him tenfold! That he would be taken before the old ones to be held to account." Mr Ahmed contemplated this some. "If this is true of course, I believe that the power must be becoming a constant burden to him that he must have to regenerate on occasion. I think that may be why he was so quiet for so long. Perhaps he is just resurfacing." The scholar shrugged. "The answer must always be perhaps."
****
Drusilla clutched her parcel to her, in the carriage once more, and thought of the parting words of the old woman who had willingly given up the objects to her. It had been almost like greeting an old friend. The woman had known what Drusilla was of course. She had known as such that very first night in Haiti, when she and Django had stayed at that charming little inn. "Don't take anyone from the village, child." the old woman had told Drusilla sternly. And she had said it in such a way, with such certainty that Drusilla never had disobeyed the warning or request. Much as she had been tempted of course. She knew there were things out there, dangerous to even her kind. And somehow the old woman had earned Drusilla's respect, a rare thing for a human or indeed anyone to have.
It was a calmer night than usual around these parts, Drusilla noticed. The rain was light and the wind a mere echo of the sometimes monsoon like proportions of late. The zombie coachman was every bit as clumsy as usual though. Drusilla still got rocked off balance and kept uncomfortable on the journey back. It was not a night for horror movie clichés at all. But how long could that last in a place known as the magic island?
Something caused the horses to rear up in fear. Drusilla was sent crashing against the other front of the compartment as the horses skidded and tried to turn back. The carriage was sent buckling upwards and turned completely over. The zombie coachman was crushed underneath. Drusilla had a nasty gash and bump on her head, as she lay in a heap in the wrecked carriage. Already she felt that special vampire healing beginning to work but the force of her being thrown made her ache all over. Drusilla angrily wrenched herself loose of the ghastly mess.
When Drusilla rose from the wreck of the carriage, the night was still relatively calm. But there was unmistakably a strange whistle on the air. There was skittering in the trees and through the bushes. Drusilla looked down at herself and saw what a bloody, muddy mess she was, from that gash. Dru realised that this was something akin to what Loretta must have felt that night they first met. It would be her turn now to be running through the darkness, knowing that menace lurked all around her.
****
The old woman in the inn looked with trepidation into the ancient mirror in her private quarters. From the misty image in the glass, Murder Legendre's face loomed as the woman knew it would. "You only have yourself to blame." she told the image in the mirror. "Of course I helped. You knew I would. I have warned you before that your exploitation of my island could not last forever. You have taken too many of my villagers in the past. Your time is coming to an end!"
Gunshots. The woman's son hurried into the room, without knocking. The woman ignored her son's ill manners and lack of patience. "Why did you anger him so mother?" the brave but burdened young man asked, grabbing a shotgun from a cabinet. "You knew he would find out that you helped. He's sending his zombies against us now!"
"Have faith, my son." the old woman reminded the young man. "He will not waste too much of his strength on us this night. He only weakens himself."
****
Django wearily entered the hotel foyer. It was quite late on in the evening and he was both tired and not quite sober. Mr Ahmed's last words of advice echoed in his head. "Now is the time to take the serpent's head. While it is still waking to the world again." The evening was not quite over for him yet, however. An anxious Loretta awaited his arrival in the foyer. She walked swiftly to Django and seemed relieved to see him.
"Glad one of you is back. I was concerned, what with the other night and all! I don't feel safe with both of you away like that." Loretta related her concerns.
"What do you mean?" Django asked confused. "Dru just likes to pop out for a bit. She wouldn't be away for long."
"She's been gone for hours already." Loretta informed. "She left just after you, as soon as it got dark."
Django looked concerned. Drusilla was a able and resourceful girl of course and more than able to look after herself. Still.... "She didn't say anything to you?" Loretta shook her head. Django was ready to start darting about wildly. "I'll have to get some things and look for her."
Loretta looked startled as she saw something over Django's shoulder. "What's happened to you?" Django spun round.
"We need to add zombie horses to our shopping list." Drusilla mused, appearing quite downtrodden. "They scare less easily." She seemed quite weary and her dress was all torn and muddy. Django took her in his arms with obvious concern.
"What happened to you Dru? Where did you go without telling us?" Django asked. He began to lead her towards the foyer seats, Loretta accompanying them.
"I had to see my pet in the ocean." Drusilla said tiredly. "Had to tell him I hadn't forgotten about him. And....Oh yes! That old woman who was so nice to us on our first night on the island. I went back to see her. 'Ad something for us, she did. Something we can use against Legendre. She's a sweet old thing, but she still won't let me feed at the village."
Django looked concernedly at Loretta here. Her eyes widened in confusion a bit, but she probably didn't find this any stranger than much else that was going on of late. Django returned his attention to Dru. He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "That's great that you found something out love, but you shouldn't have taken that risk. This creep could be dangerous even to you, you know. What did happen to you anyway?"
Dru seemed tense. "Something scared the horses. Legendre's zombies I expect." she mumbled to Django. "He's such a bad little man! There was a crash and our carriage got all broken. Felt all broken myself for a bit. Our kind are very strong though. He had zombies all over. All out looking for me. Big, strong ones he uses. Could almost rip a girl in half if she wasn't careful."
"That bastard!" Django cursed with venom. He turned back to Dru and spoke gently. "Let's get you back to our room then. We can talk more later. I've found out some things too. I'm thinking it's about time we paid this Murder Legendre a visit."
"We won't have to." Drusilla replied. "Murder Legendre is going to hold a masked ball. And he's going to invite us to it!"
Django was intrigued by this news. "Another vision love?"
"The old woman saw it in the tea leaves." Drusilla clarified. "She's such a wise old thing for all the old ways."
Django pointedly turned to Loretta. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Dru needs rest now."
"Okay." Loretta said softly. As she watched them go off, she almost felt she should be scratching her head with confusion. As Django and Drusilla were going upstairs, they heard Loretta loudly exclaim "Oh! She's THAT Drusilla!"
****
The girls were in the foyer, waiting for Django to come down. Loretta wasn't sure this was a good idea. She was even less sure if Django and Dru thought it was a good idea. She had wanted to be included in any revenge plans of course. After all, it was her dear sister Janet that Loretta had lost to this fiend. And surely a renowned vampire and a demon hunter were good company for such escapades. But still, just because they'd been invited to his plantation for a masked ball, didn't mean just marching up and saying "please let us kill you" was the best idea. Still, maybe the masked ball would make it harder for Legendre to keep his eye on them.
Loretta couldn't help feeling a bit exasperated with Drusilla. They'd talked earlier in the day and coordinated what they'd be wearing. Such a lovely chat too. And then Drusilla goes off and changes her mind at the last minute. It just threw Loretta off. A little advance warning would have been nice. I bet the stories of her madness are true, Loretta reflected bitchily. Still, Loretta was happy enough in her glittering white movie star dress. A homage to her mother, the actress, of course.
And now Drusilla was busy fiddling with her parcel from the other night! She still wouldn't open it or say what it was. Apparently it was something important though. "Oh why don't you open it yet?" Loretta reached over.
Drusilla smacked Loretta's thieving hand away. "No!" she said, matter of factly and prepared to brook no argument. "It's a protective cloth it's wrapped in. It's to stop Murder Legendre from knowing what it is."
"But we don't know what it is either." Loretta protested.
"Learn to be patient." Drusilla chastised her pupil. She put the wrapped up parcel in the secret compartment of her cloak. "Take one of the masks. We can be all sparkly together!" Her eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh there's Django!" Django was coming down the stairs towards them. "All ready, love?" Dru called. He nodded agreement.
"Do you like my hula skirt?" Dru stood up and twirled for her brave cowboy! He had decided to dress as The Green Hornet! Learnt to make do with just a green face mask and trenchcoat but brown fedora of course. Drusilla wore a black hooded cloak over her form. She had a glittering swimsuit top over her swirling hula skirt.
"Mmmm, of course love." Django agreed. "You're getting me all riled up before we leave though."
Drusilla giggled, stood up and turned to Loretta. "Let's go dearies!"
"Would you care for a brandy?" Mr Ahmed peered over his spectacles at his guest. "I often find this a pleasant time of night for one." He laughed jovially, in a way that put Django at ease, despite the serious nature of his visit. They were sat in Mr Ahmed's office, a cramped little place loaded with bookshelves and filing cabinets. The blinds were drawn and the desk lamp was dim.
Django nodded and smiled at the learned man's question and took the glass offered. Mr Ahmed was a West Indies man in his fifties. His knowledge of the local area and it's history was sure to be impressive. He had himself written various papers on the study of the occult. "Thank you." Django smiled warmly as he took a sip.
"It's curious." Mr Ahmed asserted looking through the books and files on his desk. "There have been many stories about the man you seek of course, but no real facts have been documented. A ghost of a man, you might say. However," here the scholar became most serious and grim in his expression and speech, "you can believe me when I say that Murder Legendre has much of the corrupt officials and authorities in his pocket. He has much power here, although few can say they've even met him. The location of his plantation is of course an open secret. Most locals know where to find it. It's just that....he had seemed so quiet for so long that some perhaps hoped that he'd gone. The plantation under it's unknown owner has continued to match it's sugar cane flow over the years. "
Django continued listening. This is what he was here for after all. All the information he could find on this mysterious but infamous nemesis who had upset his girlfriend so much. "It is in some ways unfortunate that you two came to Haiti." Mr Ahmed admitted to the young demon hunter who had sought out his counsel. "Drusilla is a very well known vampire. A legend, like her former companions. Indeed, her loveliness is well known. It would not surprise me if a man as well versed in the occult as Murder Legendre was already well informed of her for some time. However even if his eyes and ears of world gossip have slipped over time, he would certainly have sensed her the very moment you both set foot on Haiti."
Mr Ahmed gave a few moments for this to sink in. "And just as her loveliness is well renowned, do not doubt that her ambition and beguiling ways are not equally known." Django knew this of course. Had he himself not heard of her before that fateful meeting that had changed his world? "This man who has made himself your enemy would know of the potential threat Drusilla poses and would naturally seek to combat the threat, to his hold over the area. He would also seek to make her his own pawn. He is fond of fine things, let us say. I think you can see how dangerous this would make your own position?"
Django met that gaze on him grimly. "How would someone, say in a me kind of way, destroy this fiend? How do I kill the Zombie Master?" His voice was a steel vice.
Mr Ahmed laughed loudly but not unkindly here. Pouring himself another brandy for himself and his guest, he chuckled merrily despite the deadly conversation. "It would not be easy I imagine. Nor can you, I'm afraid, expect much help. However, just as there have been legends of his origins and early exploits, so there have been tales of his weakness." The scholar turned grave again as he addressed Django. "We have a long night before us, my young friend. And after this talk is over, you must not seek me out again. It is not safe, even for a man like me to oppose the way things are around here. Do you understand?"
Django nodded and downed his brandy. It burned his chest but he needed that fire in him.
"Good." Mr Ahmed began again.
****
Drusilla was out in her carriage again. She knew it was not wise but she had felt the need to sing to her pet beneath the waves one more time. It was coming closer to the time, when she would have to take her chance with the summoning. Haiti was already becoming too much of a hotbed for her and Django. Django of course was off on a dangerous pursuit of his own. Out looking for knowledge on the fiend who plagued them.
There had been another reason too of course, for her nocturnal journey. Drusilla stepped out of her carriage at it reached it's second destination of the night. The village inn was very rowdy tonight. Rum was flowing freely. Drusilla made a beeline straight for the bar, ignoring the rude patrons who crossed themselves at her presence. The old woman who had become her mentor, in the ways of the island's magic, had seen (or sensed?) her already and was on her way to meet her new patron. "My child?" the old Haitian woman said.
"Do you have something for me?" Drusilla asked, almost feeling in a trance. There were so many of the villagers here and it made Drusilla tingle to be here so.
"Of course, child." the woman understood at once. "But you must not linger out long, my little daughter of the night." the woman reproached with concern. "It grows more dangerous for you and those of us who have befriended you."
"I feel like a nibble." Drusilla stated, knowing it was wrong of her.
"My child, you know full well that you must heed my warning." the woman scolded. "Otherwise I cannot and will not help you." Her tone softened some. "I can however fetch you some chicken blood to help you on your way."
****
"The beings who gave Legendre his power are not fools." Mr Ahmed was relating to Django in the study. "If folktale is to be acknowledged, they too were wary of his becoming too threatening. It is sometimes said that for his power to flourish, he must keep his soul locked away. They took his soul from him and transformed it into a moth in a jar. If some brave....or foolish soul were to try and break this jar and free the moth...."
"Go on." Django gripped the arms of his chair and pressed forward. Now he was getting somewhere, or else damn the over-imaginative fish wives!
"It is said, his acts would be visited back upon him tenfold! That he would be taken before the old ones to be held to account." Mr Ahmed contemplated this some. "If this is true of course, I believe that the power must be becoming a constant burden to him that he must have to regenerate on occasion. I think that may be why he was so quiet for so long. Perhaps he is just resurfacing." The scholar shrugged. "The answer must always be perhaps."
****
Drusilla clutched her parcel to her, in the carriage once more, and thought of the parting words of the old woman who had willingly given up the objects to her. It had been almost like greeting an old friend. The woman had known what Drusilla was of course. She had known as such that very first night in Haiti, when she and Django had stayed at that charming little inn. "Don't take anyone from the village, child." the old woman had told Drusilla sternly. And she had said it in such a way, with such certainty that Drusilla never had disobeyed the warning or request. Much as she had been tempted of course. She knew there were things out there, dangerous to even her kind. And somehow the old woman had earned Drusilla's respect, a rare thing for a human or indeed anyone to have.
It was a calmer night than usual around these parts, Drusilla noticed. The rain was light and the wind a mere echo of the sometimes monsoon like proportions of late. The zombie coachman was every bit as clumsy as usual though. Drusilla still got rocked off balance and kept uncomfortable on the journey back. It was not a night for horror movie clichés at all. But how long could that last in a place known as the magic island?
Something caused the horses to rear up in fear. Drusilla was sent crashing against the other front of the compartment as the horses skidded and tried to turn back. The carriage was sent buckling upwards and turned completely over. The zombie coachman was crushed underneath. Drusilla had a nasty gash and bump on her head, as she lay in a heap in the wrecked carriage. Already she felt that special vampire healing beginning to work but the force of her being thrown made her ache all over. Drusilla angrily wrenched herself loose of the ghastly mess.
When Drusilla rose from the wreck of the carriage, the night was still relatively calm. But there was unmistakably a strange whistle on the air. There was skittering in the trees and through the bushes. Drusilla looked down at herself and saw what a bloody, muddy mess she was, from that gash. Dru realised that this was something akin to what Loretta must have felt that night they first met. It would be her turn now to be running through the darkness, knowing that menace lurked all around her.
****
The old woman in the inn looked with trepidation into the ancient mirror in her private quarters. From the misty image in the glass, Murder Legendre's face loomed as the woman knew it would. "You only have yourself to blame." she told the image in the mirror. "Of course I helped. You knew I would. I have warned you before that your exploitation of my island could not last forever. You have taken too many of my villagers in the past. Your time is coming to an end!"
Gunshots. The woman's son hurried into the room, without knocking. The woman ignored her son's ill manners and lack of patience. "Why did you anger him so mother?" the brave but burdened young man asked, grabbing a shotgun from a cabinet. "You knew he would find out that you helped. He's sending his zombies against us now!"
"Have faith, my son." the old woman reminded the young man. "He will not waste too much of his strength on us this night. He only weakens himself."
****
Django wearily entered the hotel foyer. It was quite late on in the evening and he was both tired and not quite sober. Mr Ahmed's last words of advice echoed in his head. "Now is the time to take the serpent's head. While it is still waking to the world again." The evening was not quite over for him yet, however. An anxious Loretta awaited his arrival in the foyer. She walked swiftly to Django and seemed relieved to see him.
"Glad one of you is back. I was concerned, what with the other night and all! I don't feel safe with both of you away like that." Loretta related her concerns.
"What do you mean?" Django asked confused. "Dru just likes to pop out for a bit. She wouldn't be away for long."
"She's been gone for hours already." Loretta informed. "She left just after you, as soon as it got dark."
Django looked concerned. Drusilla was a able and resourceful girl of course and more than able to look after herself. Still.... "She didn't say anything to you?" Loretta shook her head. Django was ready to start darting about wildly. "I'll have to get some things and look for her."
Loretta looked startled as she saw something over Django's shoulder. "What's happened to you?" Django spun round.
"We need to add zombie horses to our shopping list." Drusilla mused, appearing quite downtrodden. "They scare less easily." She seemed quite weary and her dress was all torn and muddy. Django took her in his arms with obvious concern.
"What happened to you Dru? Where did you go without telling us?" Django asked. He began to lead her towards the foyer seats, Loretta accompanying them.
"I had to see my pet in the ocean." Drusilla said tiredly. "Had to tell him I hadn't forgotten about him. And....Oh yes! That old woman who was so nice to us on our first night on the island. I went back to see her. 'Ad something for us, she did. Something we can use against Legendre. She's a sweet old thing, but she still won't let me feed at the village."
Django looked concernedly at Loretta here. Her eyes widened in confusion a bit, but she probably didn't find this any stranger than much else that was going on of late. Django returned his attention to Dru. He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. "That's great that you found something out love, but you shouldn't have taken that risk. This creep could be dangerous even to you, you know. What did happen to you anyway?"
Dru seemed tense. "Something scared the horses. Legendre's zombies I expect." she mumbled to Django. "He's such a bad little man! There was a crash and our carriage got all broken. Felt all broken myself for a bit. Our kind are very strong though. He had zombies all over. All out looking for me. Big, strong ones he uses. Could almost rip a girl in half if she wasn't careful."
"That bastard!" Django cursed with venom. He turned back to Dru and spoke gently. "Let's get you back to our room then. We can talk more later. I've found out some things too. I'm thinking it's about time we paid this Murder Legendre a visit."
"We won't have to." Drusilla replied. "Murder Legendre is going to hold a masked ball. And he's going to invite us to it!"
Django was intrigued by this news. "Another vision love?"
"The old woman saw it in the tea leaves." Drusilla clarified. "She's such a wise old thing for all the old ways."
Django pointedly turned to Loretta. "We'll talk more tomorrow. Dru needs rest now."
"Okay." Loretta said softly. As she watched them go off, she almost felt she should be scratching her head with confusion. As Django and Drusilla were going upstairs, they heard Loretta loudly exclaim "Oh! She's THAT Drusilla!"
****
The girls were in the foyer, waiting for Django to come down. Loretta wasn't sure this was a good idea. She was even less sure if Django and Dru thought it was a good idea. She had wanted to be included in any revenge plans of course. After all, it was her dear sister Janet that Loretta had lost to this fiend. And surely a renowned vampire and a demon hunter were good company for such escapades. But still, just because they'd been invited to his plantation for a masked ball, didn't mean just marching up and saying "please let us kill you" was the best idea. Still, maybe the masked ball would make it harder for Legendre to keep his eye on them.
Loretta couldn't help feeling a bit exasperated with Drusilla. They'd talked earlier in the day and coordinated what they'd be wearing. Such a lovely chat too. And then Drusilla goes off and changes her mind at the last minute. It just threw Loretta off. A little advance warning would have been nice. I bet the stories of her madness are true, Loretta reflected bitchily. Still, Loretta was happy enough in her glittering white movie star dress. A homage to her mother, the actress, of course.
And now Drusilla was busy fiddling with her parcel from the other night! She still wouldn't open it or say what it was. Apparently it was something important though. "Oh why don't you open it yet?" Loretta reached over.
Drusilla smacked Loretta's thieving hand away. "No!" she said, matter of factly and prepared to brook no argument. "It's a protective cloth it's wrapped in. It's to stop Murder Legendre from knowing what it is."
"But we don't know what it is either." Loretta protested.
"Learn to be patient." Drusilla chastised her pupil. She put the wrapped up parcel in the secret compartment of her cloak. "Take one of the masks. We can be all sparkly together!" Her eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh there's Django!" Django was coming down the stairs towards them. "All ready, love?" Dru called. He nodded agreement.
"Do you like my hula skirt?" Dru stood up and twirled for her brave cowboy! He had decided to dress as The Green Hornet! Learnt to make do with just a green face mask and trenchcoat but brown fedora of course. Drusilla wore a black hooded cloak over her form. She had a glittering swimsuit top over her swirling hula skirt.
"Mmmm, of course love." Django agreed. "You're getting me all riled up before we leave though."
Drusilla giggled, stood up and turned to Loretta. "Let's go dearies!"