author: Lucinda
rating: pg13/pg16
main characters: Drusilla, Angelus
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any character from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the series - both were created by Joss Whedon.
distribution: Jinni, Paula, anyone else ask.
note: Jinni's weekly poetry challenge #9.
"He was my north, my south, my east and west;
My working week, my Sunday best;
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last forever, ... I was wrong. "
-- W.H. Auden, 'Song IX' from 'Twelve Songs'
* * * * *
She knew that she hadn't always been here, hadn't always spent her days here, laying on soft sheets with her Daddy. That they hadn't always played such games of pain and pleasure and blood, hadn't always known just how to make each other gasp and moan and growl.
He'd made her into the woman that she was now. Maybe it would be better to say that he'd remade her... There had been her other family, with sunshine and chores and soft, warm bread covered over with sweet butter. They'd always told her that she was bad, that the devil spoke to her and whispered, that her visions were a curse and a burden. She'd been their burden, their torment.
Until Daddy came. He'd broken them, left their bodies sprawled in an unseemly display on the floor, clothing torn away, flesh ripped open so that all the red blood and dark secrets could run out, splash over the walls and the floor, stain the house forever with the echoes of their screams. They'd begged, begged him for their lives.
But this Daddy was no more merciful than the other Daddy had been. Their pleas had probably carried the same effect that hers had, when her Daddy had beat her to try to drive out the visions. He hadn't stopped then, had only said that she'd make her throat all raw.
She'd tried to run away, of course. She'd tried it before, when the visions first started, when she first started her woman's bleeding, when her mother had told her that she'd never marry because of those evil visions and whisperings. It had never worked.
Daddy had found her. But he was not the same as her old Daddy, and his punishment hadn't been the same either. He'd introduced her to their games, the ones of pain and pleasure, blurring the two until she didn't know why she gasped and whimpered.
He'd killed her that night. He'd made her immortal. It was the same thing, really. Miss Edith had assured her of that, had promised that nothing would change between Drusilla and her doll and confidant.
They should have been together forever. He'd promised that they would be. Promised that he'd never leave her, that she'd never be free of him.
But Daddy had lied.
No, Miss Edith whispered, not Daddy's fault.
Drusilla pouted as she lay on the sheets, inhaling the remaining scent of Daddy. Miss Edith was right, it hadn't been Daddy's fault. It had been those nasty, horrible gypsies. They'd done something to him, used their sparkles and glows and chants and smoke to make him hurt and cry, but they'd given him no pleasure to go with the pain.
That was just not polite at all. You should always give pleasure to go with the pain.
But Daddy was still gone. Gone, gone, vanished into the darkness, and the stars would only weep and hide their faces when she asked where he was. He'd been torn away from their family, ripped out by screams and chants and magic.
It was only right that they'd killed so many of the gypsies when they'd gone to talk to them. They'd deserved it, really they had. It was not nice to break up a family. They should have known that, after all, they'd only been mad because Daddy had taken one of their little girls to become part of his family.
She hadn't even got a new sister to console herself with, the broken gypsy had just lay there, like a dancing puppet with cut strings. She hadn't woke up, hadn't growled and blinked and hungered.
Nothing good had come of that night. Only pain and loss.
"I miss you, Daddy-mine." Her soft whisper was swallowed up by the darkness.
The darkness did not answer her. The darkness never did, only the stars. But the darkness had taken all the stars away, and they were silent now.
end Painful Silence.
rating: pg13/pg16
main characters: Drusilla, Angelus
disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to any character from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the series - both were created by Joss Whedon.
distribution: Jinni, Paula, anyone else ask.
note: Jinni's weekly poetry challenge #9.
"He was my north, my south, my east and west;
My working week, my Sunday best;
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song.
I thought that love would last forever, ... I was wrong. "
-- W.H. Auden, 'Song IX' from 'Twelve Songs'
* * * * *
She knew that she hadn't always been here, hadn't always spent her days here, laying on soft sheets with her Daddy. That they hadn't always played such games of pain and pleasure and blood, hadn't always known just how to make each other gasp and moan and growl.
He'd made her into the woman that she was now. Maybe it would be better to say that he'd remade her... There had been her other family, with sunshine and chores and soft, warm bread covered over with sweet butter. They'd always told her that she was bad, that the devil spoke to her and whispered, that her visions were a curse and a burden. She'd been their burden, their torment.
Until Daddy came. He'd broken them, left their bodies sprawled in an unseemly display on the floor, clothing torn away, flesh ripped open so that all the red blood and dark secrets could run out, splash over the walls and the floor, stain the house forever with the echoes of their screams. They'd begged, begged him for their lives.
But this Daddy was no more merciful than the other Daddy had been. Their pleas had probably carried the same effect that hers had, when her Daddy had beat her to try to drive out the visions. He hadn't stopped then, had only said that she'd make her throat all raw.
She'd tried to run away, of course. She'd tried it before, when the visions first started, when she first started her woman's bleeding, when her mother had told her that she'd never marry because of those evil visions and whisperings. It had never worked.
Daddy had found her. But he was not the same as her old Daddy, and his punishment hadn't been the same either. He'd introduced her to their games, the ones of pain and pleasure, blurring the two until she didn't know why she gasped and whimpered.
He'd killed her that night. He'd made her immortal. It was the same thing, really. Miss Edith had assured her of that, had promised that nothing would change between Drusilla and her doll and confidant.
They should have been together forever. He'd promised that they would be. Promised that he'd never leave her, that she'd never be free of him.
But Daddy had lied.
No, Miss Edith whispered, not Daddy's fault.
Drusilla pouted as she lay on the sheets, inhaling the remaining scent of Daddy. Miss Edith was right, it hadn't been Daddy's fault. It had been those nasty, horrible gypsies. They'd done something to him, used their sparkles and glows and chants and smoke to make him hurt and cry, but they'd given him no pleasure to go with the pain.
That was just not polite at all. You should always give pleasure to go with the pain.
But Daddy was still gone. Gone, gone, vanished into the darkness, and the stars would only weep and hide their faces when she asked where he was. He'd been torn away from their family, ripped out by screams and chants and magic.
It was only right that they'd killed so many of the gypsies when they'd gone to talk to them. They'd deserved it, really they had. It was not nice to break up a family. They should have known that, after all, they'd only been mad because Daddy had taken one of their little girls to become part of his family.
She hadn't even got a new sister to console herself with, the broken gypsy had just lay there, like a dancing puppet with cut strings. She hadn't woke up, hadn't growled and blinked and hungered.
Nothing good had come of that night. Only pain and loss.
"I miss you, Daddy-mine." Her soft whisper was swallowed up by the darkness.
The darkness did not answer her. The darkness never did, only the stars. But the darkness had taken all the stars away, and they were silent now.
end Painful Silence.