Drusilla slips out of the crypt into the soft gray hue of early evening. The graveyard smells fresh. And sweet. Of rain saturating plush grass and newly turned earth. Of damp stones, and the blood on her hands.
Fresher blood too, in a living body beating like a warm ripple through the cool evening air.
She watches from behind a mausoleum wall as Buffy cuts across the gravel path towards Spike's crypt. The door hinges squeak as she pulls them open and, no longer entertained, Dru drifts away. Her black lace dress catches a few ivy leaves as she departs, tugging them loose and trailing dark streaks of blood upon them. There's nothing interesting to do there. How dull.
Her poetic pet has found a new toy to chew on and she has no interest in watching. She never did have a taste for that sort of sin. So much exertion for so little reward. Nothing to compare to the symphonies of chaos in her own mind. The sweet nothings whispered from his lips as he writhed on top of her couldn't compare to the fae voices in her head that always said such disturbingly wonderful things.
Her William always was so preoccupied by it. Couldn't fathom that her visions were so much more vibrant than those pleading blue eyes of his. That they fought their way past him even as he tried to hold her tighter. Dark visions, full of blood and bone and gore. What could compare?
Her ballet-slippered feet skip out of the back gates of the cemetery, uncaring for the thorns and sharp rocks under her soles, her dress skimming the blades of grass in a soothing whisper.
There's something deep and dark in the woods and she wants a piece of it, even if her poet isn't in the game for now. She can begin without him, and he'll smell the blood and come running. Then Daddy and Grandmother will be so delighted. They'll dive into the blood, spilt in that iron box underground from soldier throats, and they'll be so happy. So happy with her they'll fold red dripping arms around her and be a family again.
All she ever wanted… a happy family reunited… The blood will bring them together. The blood always brings them together.
She's so light footed, the twigs and debris beneath her barely snap as she passes higher up into the woods.
Dru doesn't need to walk for long before voices prick her ears. Everything seems so loud and dreadfully vivid after gorging herself in the train that there's a possibility the voices aren't there at all. Or simply aren't there yet…
But she's sure they are. These ones are accompanied by two boys in green.
Like little gnomes… she thinks and giggles quietly in the underbrush, pressing in just a bit closer to watch them as they make their way up to a rocky outcrop, carrying guns but not paying close attention to their surroundings.
"So you broke up?" One of the gnomes with spiky brown hair like a hedgehog asks the other. His companion's back is so straight he's like a statue and Dru thinks casually that her daddy would break it piece by piece until he could roll him up like a snail.
The statue shrugs.
"Not officially. I said the outfit wanted me back and transport was leaving tonight. She assumed it was international and told me to have a good flight," he says bitterly, hefting his gun a little higher up, forefinger tightening on the trigger.
Hedgehog clicks his tongue, shaking his head. "You know ultimatums don't usually work if you're the one that fucked up," he says with a hard pat on Statue's back.
"It wasn't an ultimatum," Statue mutters.
"Sure, whatever. Sounds like a break up to me, dude," says Hedgehog, cocking an unsympathetic eyebrow. "Think you need to chalk that one up to don't date ultimate destiny chicks."
"She just needs time to come around. She'll cool off," Statue says, his lips pursing in the half moon glow.
"Right," replies Hedgehog, but doesn't sound convinced. They move on up higher and Dru follows behind like a dark blood covered shadow. "And how does that play into the mission? Not to point out the obvious but this rather puts a wrinkle in the plan."
"I know."
"Ellis brought you in specifically because of her-"
"Yeah, I know. I'll figure it out, she just needs to calm down for a few days."
There's a momentary pause in the conversation between them and Dru stills her steps. She can smell demons up ahead. Not fresh, a scent from a few days ago lingering like sweat on a stained shirt.
They're getting close to the entrance to their hidey hole. Little treats in a tin can.
"You know, you might be looking at this the wrong way," says Hedgehog and Statue cocks his head towards him. Dru mimics the motion, her eyes glittering darkly from behind her leafy cover.
"What do you mean?" asks Statue. He sounds weary. And sad. His emotional defenses are weakening. How simple it would be to unravel him further until he was a quivering little boy begging for mercy.
"She's not human, Riley," says Hedgehog like he's talking to a very slow child, "I mean, you do get that, right? Human girls can't bench press a car."
The statue stiffens, and Dru can smell anger spicing his blood into a heady intoxicating aroma.
"She's human," he says brusquely, but she can hear a tiny little seed of doubt has tightened his throat, making those two little words sound… unconvinced.
"Yeah, really?" says Hedgehog, with a snort, "I hate to burst your bubble Ri, but there's a hell of a lot of things that look human until they aren't." He shifts his rifle to one hand so he can count off on his fingers. "Super strength, super healing, super God knows what else. Doesn't sound all that human to me."
"She's the chosen one Graham, it comes with-"
"With what?" Hedgehog interrupts, hitting his stride with his impromptu lecture. "Think it through for a minute, man. What's more likely; that your girl is some literal second coming of Jesus wrapped up in a Superman package? Or she's some hostile we haven't had the pleasure of making a more thorough acquaintance with." He readjusts his gun back into both hands. "Forrest never trusted her. Ellis doesn't either."
The statue bites his cheek. They look flushed from anger and humiliation, and the sight of warm blood coloring his skin pink makes Dru's mouth water a little despite her full stomach. If she sank her nails straight into them they'd burst like warm ripe cherries, spilling hot red nectar into her hands until her fingernails met the stones of his teeth.
"I know," he mutters, and Dru makes a mock pout at his distress. "But she's not evil."
"Got that in writing do you?" asks Hedgehog, "you've weighed her in the balance and deemed her ultimate good?" Statue opens his mouth to reply but Hedgehog gets in first. "She stopped lurking about with Hostile 17?"
The statue shuts his mouth, his teeth biting together in a click, and Dru cocks an eyebrow under her bracken cover.
"Yeah, thought so," sneers Hedgehog. "Ultimate good my ass."
"Spike's a creep but he's harmless-" Statue says defensively but Hedgehog pulls up short. So does Dru, following as she is adjacent to the path they're walking, hands behind her back like she's part of the conversation. Her eyes sparkle. This could be interesting…
"Spike?" Hedgehog chuckles, but there's no mirth in it. "Hostile 17's name is Spike? The same Spike she pretended she was engaged to? That Spike?"
Statue opens and closes his mouth but no words come out, and Hedgehog laughs a mean schoolboy laugh.
"Oh dude, you got it bad."
They reach a cave and Dru hangs back in the shadows, watching patiently, smiling sweetly.
"Go talk to Ellis," says Hedgehog, thumping Statue hard on the arm. "He's not gonna like the delay but it'd be better if she came willingly. Try and get on her good side yeah?" Statue huffs and heads into the cave, turning his back on Hedgehog's mocking face. "Buy her flowers!" he calls after him. "Even demon babes like flowers!"
Statue raises a middle finger at him before he disappears into the shadows, leaving Hedgehog all alone.
Deliciously alone.
