Episode One: Diary
Chapter Four: When We Were Hunted
Darla: Oh no. I didn't.
The vampires ganged up on them and Darla and Drusilla struggled to get free before they got their mojo running. Spike obviously fought to protect Drusilla, and could not care less about Darla. Then, a dusted vampire taken by an arrow got everyone's attention. A crew of men stood in the foggy and near distance of the street. Tombstone, who avoided to fight until then, looked back and saw him. The men's leader and the vampire stared at each other intensely, both shocked and disgusted. The guy, that man... the same slave hunter as before! From Africa and from Arthur's office... The one known as Whipper!
Tombstone was somewhat scared of the only one that had ever been successful at restraining him. Whipper's men fired arrows everywhere, impelling the vampires to take cover. The men sprayed holy water in all places like crazy which forced those who hid to come forth, vulnerable. Many Bloodshedders perished. Some where brave enough to attack the men, but were as unsuccessful as the cowardly. Those guys had a very well-prepared arsenal. Those shady hunters with shady motives wouldn't leave until they were all dead. In a desperate attempt at survival, the vampires of all clans hid themselves among the stacked and scattered junk which served as perfect temporary camouflage against the mysterious human assailants.
The hunters marched down the narrow city street, cautious as to where were the vampires hidden. Finally, they made a mistake; they walked passed vampires cloaked in disgraceful rags who took this opportunity to jump behind the soulful beings for a surprise and effective back-attack. The Bloodshedders and Spike pitched in to kill those who foolishly came to take them out. Darla and Drusilla kept their distances and cuddled together, while a feeling mingled of both terror and amusement glided in their minds. Then Darla screamed in utmost pain as she was victim of a stray arrow protruding in her shin.
The gals stepped back for a tactical retreat, Drusilla with the pale devil's arm clinging around her shoulders, the blond one's mouth pouring out pleads to make the suffering end. Supporting her grand-sire the best she could, Dru whimpered and worried crazily. Although constantly distracted by the shouting and crying, she finally succeeded in taking refuge inside the abandoned building, giving them access to the bar downstairs and hopefully some calm. Whipper was ordered by another of Arthur's employee to go kill the fleeing women, leaving unwillingly Tombstone to the hands of the other hunters, his vendetta postponed.
She leaned against some debris of some sort and panted laboriously, not for the need to - she couldn't care less about oxygen - but because her friend was about to give her a new blow of pain. The screams that came out of this tiny beauty...!
Drusilla stood back up, clasping the arrow, the thing no longer buried into the bone.
Drusilla: (Complaining) "Ahh-ah! I hate!"
She broke it and tossed it with a grossed out expression written all over her face. It was all the blue moon's dim light passing through the door up the basement stairs continuing on the wall opposite her that Darla could see... though still in pain. A winner's smile started to grow, however, something... someone shadowed the peaceful blue she was looking at. She froze.
All but slackjawed this lady had become, with fear slowly getting the best of her. Her mad accomplice realized something was looming behind her. She tapered her lips nervously but broke out of it all when fear-struck Darla trailed towards the iron door. She panicked when she knew they would not let them in and they would leave both of them to die. While Darla was slipping into deliria, Dru was stagnant, shocked still.
Darla: "They... They-they won't let us in, they'll-- We'll die..."
Darla had learned the hard way that vampire hunters – even human – can be a huge pain in the ass. Think Holtz. That's why she was afraid. Appearances are deceiving; maybe he had scared her, traumatized her more than she let anyone think.
Darla panicked. She panicked good. The silhouette on the wall had readied his arsenal. He had began creeping down the stairs. And she froze again. Roles were reversed as Darla had gotten mad and Dru had one of those glimpse of lucidity she seldom has. Copying exactly her lover, she knocked the code and spoke the password. It worked. Dru had succeeded in giving them asylum. But the door was slow to open. Too slow.
A crack in the door made Dru able to slip in, but she was shoved aside by Darla, desperate to live. Quickly, Dru followed in and just as her head moved inside, an arrow lodged into the wall where she previously stood.
Drusilla: (To Darla) "Oh, catfight, bitch!!"
Darla: (Toning Drusilla out, she gibbered to the doorman...) Close that door!! Hurry!!
Doorman: Hey lady, we told you before, 'Get out--
Like instant magic, he hissed away in a thick fog of dust, leaving a pissed hunter obstacle-free. The ladies immediately turned around, making way through the dancing demons, thrusting against the busy bodies. Behind them, the second doorman rejoiced over the fact he would feed on the intruder, having worked up quite an appetite with all that standing around and checking out vampire chicks all night. A fast move of his wrist left none to see the stake had already flew to his heart. Another kill.
The women feared for their lives, but Darla especially, who advanced further, her mind not set on the leg pain. She never knew Dru was struggling in the crowd, far off behind, trying to keep up with her grandsire who slithered among the demons. It was all about herself and her own survival. Classic Darla.
As for Whipper, he knew there was absolutely no way he would find the vampire women in all those vampires and so he climbed the wooden shaft up to the ceiling's fortification. He walked fearlessly on the narrow beam while examining intensely for the she-demons down below, his crossbow shifting from side to side. He was searching through the crowd, shooting vampires occasionally. But Whipper was dangerously approaching the ladies who were having difficulty walking through the now agitated crowd.
Nothing scared Whipper... the man seemed fearless against those raging vampires underneath him. As he was gaining on the women, Drusilla was getting increasingly insane, mumbling away incoherencies. Whipper finally found Darla, but couldn't get a clear shot. Some vampires came to him to fight which bought the lady fiends some time. Darla saw a door blocked by a dilapidated shelf which brought her and Dru hurrying towards it. Whipper was now skilfully running on the ledge, nearly above the women. Darla and Drusilla tried to move the shelf, but Drusilla abandoned as she was increasingly frenetic. Darla successfully moved the shelf hence clearing the path to flee. Whipper jumped from the ceiling, escaping by a single inch to get his ankle grabbed by a desperate vampire, crawling behind him on the beam. This same perched vampire fell onto a piquet and dusted himself doltishly.
Whipper ran towards the door the vampires had just went through. Darla and Drusilla found themselves into a dead-end, an alley trapped by the soaring buildings all around, with a useless rusting fence miraculously still standing, resting silently on the buildings' brick walls, leaving them at the mercy of the hunter without fear. They heard something and looked back, terrified. Whipper instantly readied his crossbow as he passed the door into the secluded area.
He was surprised to see no one. But he smiled when he heard something above him. Darla and Drusilla were standing on the quite large wooden door's archway, and what Whipper heard was Darla slightly slipping, her leg getting too painful to sustain her body weight successfully. He slowly moved forward and in slow motion, turned around and raised his weapon steadfast. Drusilla and Darla were shocked by the sudden move and were ready to jump sideways, but Whipper had unmistakable aim and was locked on Darla's dead heart. All of a sudden, he got tackled to the floor by a gigantic thing – Tombstone - who was so enraged, he looked possessed.
Whipper was about to shoot Tombstone, but his crossbow flew away following Tombstone's violent disarming. Whipper was afraid and tried to back out, crawling, on his back, but it was no surprise that his pathetic attempt of fleeing was to fail. And Tombstone grabbed the man by the neck and lifted him up in the air. Darla and Drusilla, firmly standing on ground, were watching the scene in awe.
Tombstone: You killed Tommy!!
Whipper: (Choked up) No, you did!
Tombstone: We were cages! You were free! You shot him!!
Whipper: You're insane! I didn't--
(Tombstone squeezed Whipper's throat harder)
Whipper: Animals like you deserve to be locked up! Now you're more of a beast than you were back then! Now you're-- I'm not Tommy's--
(Tombstone growled, screamed and squeezed all the more, making speech impossible for Whipper. The hunter turned blue, his eyes rolled up… he won't live long...)
Darla: Go ahead, Tombstone. Make him pay. You can have your revenge now. He killed Tommy, you know. He deserves it...
Drusilla: Punish the evil man. Rip out and chuck out his pretty white collar!
Tombstone listened to Darla and almost let his instincts take over, but he came to his senses and let go of Whipper, who bumped hard onto the ground, madly gasping for air. Whipper stood up, backed against the fence, scared to death and traumatized. He passed sideways to Tombstone who was blankly staring ahead. Whipper started to run, but Tombstone went berserk again and surrounded Whipper's neck with his oversized, bone-grinding hands. He lifted him higher than before into the air and fixated him with a look so full of darkness that Whipper squirmed in panic.
Tombstone: For Tommy!
This announcement sounded very much so like a toast. And it was... Tombstone pulled Whipper's neck to his mouth and viciously glutted over his meal, like a famished fiend. And the blood flowed rapidly from body to body. In a matter of seconds, Whipper was without a drop of blood in him. His corpse thudded ingloriously on the ground after Tombstone let it drop. Delighted of Tombstone's actions, Darla approached and extended her arm to the large beast.
Darla: Well done. You are quite--
But she leaped back when Tombstone quickly turned to snarl at her. The blood he had ravaged had spilled out and was all over his face, which made him all the more gruesome. He walked and leaned more and more towards Darla in a prowling manner. His eyes, deprived of humanity. His eyes, big and crimson-coloured. Darla was carefully walking backwards, trying to lull Tombstone nervously whilst never daring leaving his sight. All indicated his spirit had been stripped out of him, consumed by his own evil doings, leaving behind a slave of cannibalism. Tombstone shook his head suddenly and straightened up. He looked around, profoundly surprised to see Whipper's limp body on the floor.
Tombstone: What happened?
Darla: You went mad, that's what happened! Nevertheless, you saved us. And you fed. And you killed. My kind of boy... Tombstone isn't it?
Tombstone: Yes, my name is that.
Darla: Say... strapping man like you... you deserve more then a sad little gang of angst-driven little vampires. You ought to have justice in your life... the kind of justice you find in revenge. I know you must have suffered greatly because of so many. What would you do if you could make them suffer as much as you did? Tasting vengeance is the sweetest of all sins. I know that and I know you do too; because I saw you feel it. Come with us... and you will eternally drink to quench that thirst of undying vengeance.
(Darla caresses Tombstone's face. He smiles nervously.)
Tombstone: I will come with you.
Tombstone follows Darla out the secluded backyard. Drusilla starts following Tombstone after he passed by her, playing with her fingers in excitement. Spike comes in the bar, has blood on him everywhere and is bouncy from the evident kills he did.
Spike: What happened? Are you gals alright? (Referring to Tombstone.) Why is he here? (Nobody answers, he goes to them) Seriously what happened?!
o o o
Time passes by and daylight hits the streets of London. A young man enters Arthur's room, slamming the door open. Arthur is impassive to the noise and keeps looking out the window behind his desk, standing there like a statue. An old and timid woman follows inside, ashamed of the lad's behaviour. The young man knocks his fist on the desk.
Justin: Where is my dad?!?