The Balkans 3120 Years Before Present Era
It was said that Maruscia had come into being through a
demonic conception. Maruscia was known for being the most
beautiful woman in 6 villages. She had long black hair that waved
like the crops in the fields, her skin was dewey and fair, and
did not darken in the sun. Her eyes were the most striking, they
were massive orbs of violet, with long black lashes making her
gaze even more seductive than was intentional. She married late,
at 20, most girls were mothers by 15, and she did not become
pregnant immediately. She was the wife of a farmer, who took good
care of her and loved her deeply. Her apparent inability to bear
children caused suspicion in the village, some accusing her of
being possessed by evil spirits. She slept most of the day, and
went walking at night, her husband knew this, but was too tired
to make issue out of it. He knew she did her fair share of work,
and had few complaints. One night she met a man of extraordinary
beauty, she had seen him in a dream before the encounter. She
followed him into a wooded lot, they made love, he thanked her,
told her she would make a beautiful mother, and disappeared. She
never saw the man again, but 9 months later she was as big as a
house and ready to pop.
The midwife had come quickly when he announced his wife was in
labor. Rolf had been wealthy enough to afford the midwife, he was
concerned that this may be his only child, and he had to
guarantee that it would survive. Ceremonies were performed
outside their house, sacrifices were made, to satiate the gods
who were so quick to strike down children. The home had been
cleansed, the skin of the lamb hung over the door to stop the
demons from entering the house and destroying her birth.
Everything had been done as it had been done for generations in
his village. Nothing was out of place.
Hours had come and gone, he finally hear the cry of not one, but
two children. The midwife appeared at the door, he had a son and
a daughter. Rolf was turning to share the good news with the
neighbors, when the midwife grabbed his arm. Maruscia was dead.
The twins had taken all she had, she had bled to death. The
midwife offered a nurse maid who could come to service the
children for him, as well as help him raise them until a
replacement wife could be found. The woman's child had died not a
week before and she was still able to nurse them. He was shocked,
the joy that two children had given him was now overshadowed by
the loss of Maruscia.
He went into the room where the children screamed for their
mother. She was laying on the floor, covered in blood, her eyes
still open, her legs still spred. He went over and closed them,
and her eyes, then covered the body. Rolf didn't believe this was
possible. He then went to the children, the girl looked like
Maruscia, but the boy's skin was far too dark, his eyes were so
dark they looked black. He didn't care, he was just happy to have
them, to have some token of her life.
The midwife left, he sent her away, and told her to have the
nurse maid stop by the next day. Before she left, the midwife
gave him a warning. Maruscia's death was strange, unnatural, she
had seen many women die in labor, but this had been different.
Maruscia had been delerious screaming about how she was to make a
fine mother, that he had told her she would make a fine mother,
that he had come to her in a dream. The midwife was concerned
that the children were cursed, as they had not cried until their
mother died. She was very suspicious of all of it, and told him
to have the house cleansed again as well as the children as soon
as possible.
He couldn't bear to do these things, not yet, not at this moment.
He had loved her deeply, he couldn't let go or curse her body
because of some ramblings upon her death. He had moved the body
onto a table, and had cleaned the floor of her blood. He wiped
the blood off of her legs, redressed her body, combed through her
hair, and put together her things for the burial, her hair comb,
a bowl, a string of seeds and shells she had worn as a necklace.
These things had meant something to her. He also put in one of
the leather straps he often wrapped around his hands to work in
the fields, she needed to have a piece of him with her.
The children didn't make a noise the entire night. He woke the
following day to the sounds of them screaming. The nurse maid had
brought the local shaman, for she refused to nurse the children
without them being cleansed. As Rolf walked into the room, the
nursemaid and shaman were holding the children over their
mother's corpse, the children were bleeding onto their mother,
into her mouth, each of her hands, and the region from which
these two creatures had been born.
"From the sacrifice of the blood of the mother, we give back
to her spirit the blood of those she sacrificed for. Let her
spirit rest, never seeking this place again, never entering this
home or any other without permission, let this blood take her
soul from this body." The nurse maid held both children as
the shaman picked up their dead mothers hands and touched their
foreheads with their own blood from her hands. "May the gift
of life be granted and the children cleansed, the darkness of
death over them cleared by reclaiming their blood. Let all be
free, let all rest, the spirits satisfied, the gods approving of
this offering! The shaman held his hands in the air, took
Maruscia's hands, cut open the palms, and folded her hands
together. "Let the blood they share free her, and please the
gods, let the evil of this house be gone!" He then held up
two sticks which had been tied together creating a cross of
sorts, he touched her head and her heart and the soles of her
feet with it. "May you never make passage through the
crossroads, may your filthy spirit hide in shame from the place
where gods and man meet!"
Lightning cracked outside the door and the boom of thunder
quickly followed. The air crackled with life. The shaman, looked
at Rolf, he could see the fear in his eyes. There was something
more to Maruscia's passing than he was being told. The nurse maid
took the children to the next room, and the shaman and he picked
up Maruscia's body, her bowl of mementos of this world on her
stomach, and then carried the body to the grave dug just outside
of the village. This was where all were buried. The men had heard
of her passing during the night and had dug the grave
immediately. Her lifeless body was tossed in, as the rain began
to pour down. As her body hit the bottom, her eyes opened. He
thought her eyes had opened, but he knew his eyes could have been
decieveing him. They left the body there, in the open grave, the
others would come later to throw flowers into the grave, to
powder the body with ochre, and to finally refill the hole.
Ekaterinburg, Russia, November 1897
Spike had carried Dru's lifeless body up the stairs to her room.
The people who once lived here must of had some sort of
grandchild that visited them. Darla and Angelus knew that when
they took a house, there always had to be a child's room for
Drusilla. This house was no exception. Her room was pink and
ivory with ribbons and lace and roses everywhere. The small
child's bed was of no use to her, and so they had stripped the
bed linens off to place on the floor. Dru and Spike liked
sleeping on the floor, it gave them more room to thrash each
other about.
The room was cold. The fire in the pink granite fireplace had
long burned out. Spike laid Dru's body on the sheets and
restarted the fire. The temperature didn't really bother him, but
Dru had a thing about being cold. He lit a cigarette off of the
long match he lit to start the fire and squatted in front of the
fireplace waiting for it to begin to roll. The crackling filled
his ears as he heard the wood ignite. He was so absorbed he
didn't realize Drusilla was awake, until she grabbed his arm.
"Bloody hell!" Spike jumped. Drusilla could be as quiet
as a cat when she wanted to be. He turned to see her crawling at
him, naked. She licked her lips and began to mew like a kitten.
"Come now my big brave night, and pet the kitty."
Drusilla was devilishly gorgeous when lit with fire light. Spike
threw his cigarette in the fireplace.
"Well now, how do I know if its a good pussy or a bad
one?"
Dru smiled and scampered away. "You'll have to find me to
find out."
Spike stood up, and began undressing as he walked about the room,
"Here pus, pus, pus, pus..." He was calling a cat
alright, a cat of a whole other breed.
He could hear the laughter coming from downstairs, he closed the
door, and continued looking for his kitty.