The Balkans, 3120 years before present

When she fell into the pit it hurt. Her eyes open, and she watched as Rolf and the town shaman departed. Rolf wiping a lone tear from his face. She didn't understand why they had dropped her in the pit, couldn't they see she was awake?

The water was rushing in, and it filled her mouth and nostrils, she sat up to spit the dirty filth from her. She was covered in runny mud and clay. Maruscia took her hands and hoisted herself out of her grave. She only realized it was her grave when she crawled out. Shocked she stumbled into the woods to gather her thoughts.

Later she heard the screams that wolves had attacked and stolen her body. Her head throbbed, she could hear every raindrop hit, every move the leaves made, the whistling of a wet piece of grass in the wind. She thought it was near dark but her vision remained the same, as if it were broad daylight. The smells were what really got her. On her hands she could smell the blood of her children. She needed to find them, to see what was to become of them.

The door to the house was wide open, and she could hear the infants screaming inside. When she tried to go through the door it was as if a large invisible wall had been placed between the outside world and the insides of the house. She walked around the side to look into the window. Rolf was screaming at a small woman about how if the children didn't eat they would die, and how that couldn't happen. The woman was near to crying stating that since the body had left the house the children had been silent, and unwilling to eat. That only in the last few minutes had they begun to shriek. Rolf raised a hand to her, and the woman scampered to the floor and out the door. Rolf looked straight at the window and saw her standing there.

He ran out of the house, and grabbed her, taking her in his arms and walking her back to the house. At the door she stopped, unable to cross the threshold, until he told her to come in. What happened next was such a flash that she could barely recall it even moments after it happened. But when she left the house, she had both children in a basket, all of her things, and Rolf laid on the entry way floor with his throat ripped out.

Her and the children hid in the woods, with both of them growing it seemed right before her eyes. She often found herself and the children in a field or a home with the bodies of the inhabitants laying about, throats ripped out, but without blood to be seen. She would then flee with the children to another town. She taught them to sleep in the day and move in the night, telling them it was safer for cover and travel when in reality something inside her told her sunlight was not her friend. Yet she did not know what she was, or what the children were, as within a years time they had grown to be as old as she. They seemed to plateau there. Not knowing what Rolf was calling them, she named them: Ekaterina and Ivanoff.

Ekaterinburg, Russia, November 1897

"And then he says, 'it's not William anymore, call me Spike!'" Darla was drunk and this was her favorite story to pass onto guests when drunk. She even had mastered Spike's cadence and annunciation. She fell over laughing, spilling the remains of her vodka in Angelus' lap.

"Darla, dear, I think you've had quite enough. Come now, sit up." Angelus sat her back up, and leaned her against the cushions of the setee. "I must appologize for her, it's been a rough couple of years, and she's been drinking heavily recently."

"Well, it's been a rough couple of years no thanks to me, is what you mean isn't is Angelus?" Maruscia smirked at him, and took another sip of her vodka. She had drank near to a bottle and showed no signs of inebriation. Angelus had stopped when his head got heavy, so as to not allow Maruscia an opportunity to stake them right then and there. "Do you fear me?"

"Do I what? Fear you? I fear nothing." Angelus rebuked.

"Not even daylight, or crosses, or stakes through the heart? What about beheadings? Do you fear those things?"

"I do not fear them, I avoid them."

"Oh, and I suppose there's a difference."

Darla had passed out, and was wavering back and forth. "Excuse me, let me get her out of here."

"Of course, do you need any help?" Maruscia put on the charm that had lured in so many men so many times.

"No, I can carry her to bed all by myself. Why don't you just wait here, I'll only be a second."

Angelus carried Darla upstairs, and into their room. It was across from Drusilla and Spike's. He could hear Drusilla mewing and purring and Spike calling out for her. He frowned, that was once his game, a bit o' the old cat and mouse with Drusilla, but since Spike came about there was no more playing with Drusilla. Darla welcomed it, but Angelus missed her sexual insanity.

He undressed Darla and put her into bed, being sure the draperies were shut, so he wouldn't arrive later to a big pile of ashes. He kissed her on the forehead, she murmmured, and rolled onto her side. He headed back downstairs.

Maruscia was walking around the house. She noted all of the broken mirrors. Angelus told her about Dru's dislike of the things, and her abandonless joy at shattering them. She noted that there were objects missing from the walls. He told her how they sold them for money for proper winter frocks and capes for the girls, as well as proper hats and coats for themselves. She was just biding her time, attempting to peek into the lives of the Aurelians, well the most important 4 Aurelians outside Aurelius himself.

They made small talk about the region, and where to find a good meal. Who's aquaintences they should make, if there were any vampire barbers or seamstresses in town. The general sort of talk that people new to an area make with a native. Dawn was approaching, and Maruscia had to get back to her estate. She passed him a calling card with the address on it, and a date. It was the night she was throwing a large party, and she wanted them to join her. Angelus gathered her things and walked her to the door.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you once again." Angelus again took her hand and kissed it.

"I am sure this time it was far more pleasurable as I was not directing the seige and murder of you and your friends." She smiled at him.

"Well, you're not wrong."

Maruscia was halfway down the stairs to her carriage when Angelus called down to her: "I do not fear you, and I never will." The look on his face was stern and serious, he meant every word he said.

"Oh my sweet, angels have nothing to fear but the devil itself." He slammed the door shut. When it impacted with the door frame he heard Drusilla squeal upstairs. He went back into the sitting room, took the decanter of vodka, and finished it off.

Half way up the stairs the alcohol hit him, and he had to grip tightly to the railing to make it up. By the time he reached their room, he was near to unconscious, passing out fully clothed on the bed. Drusilla and Spike across the hall still playing their wicked little games.