*Once again, I don't own anything from the Buffy or Firefly verse!!
This chapter has seen some revision. Hope you like, the rest will be coming soon, the rest that had been posted has been pulled as well for similar tweaking to flesh out the story.
Drusilla spun round and round. She hummed a tune; some song her daddy had taught her so very long ago... or maybe it had been just yesterday.
Sometimes she had trouble remembering.
Of late there had only been one thing on her tumultuous mind; the fire. So pretty, so bright, it was hers and hers alone. But, not yet.
No, there was still time yet. She had to be a good girl, for just a little while longer.
The moon had told her, it was to be her present for being a good girl. She didn’t feel like being a good girl though.
The demon in her growled at the thought, but, the vampire ruthlessly stomped down on the emotion. What’s hers was hers and no one else's; she’d get her pretty.
She’d already lost her precious prince because she hadn’t been a good enough girl, she wouldn’t lose her pretty as well.
Just a little longer to wait, just a little longer.
All alone. She was so lonely in her wait. The darkness sang to her so sweetly, but, she could not let it embrace her, the light was her path, her promised pretty.
Sighing she stopped and went to the window, looking down through the broken glass at the people below.
"Little ants, so busy. To and fro, to and fro. Home for the holidays. To family and loved ones. But Dru is all alone. Should not be so. Spike should be with his princess, but he left her, to be with her. Death and darkness shroud her and yet he does not see, trailing like some dog after her." Dru held herself and then turned back to the bed in the corner and grabbed her doll off of it. It had been the doll that Spike had first given her, one she had always kept safe from her occasional rages. Lovingly she stroked the porcelain face and a tear slipped down her pale cheek.
"No mommy, no daddy, no Spike. All alone. Shouldn't be, but they'll learn. Oh yes, Ms. Darning's, they'll learn. The dark approaches and they don't even know. Creeping silently, coming closer and closer. All the pretty maids will fall, SHE will be the first, and without their spark the others cannot stand. One is the heart, one the teacher, one the witch, but, she is their spark, the glue that holds them together, unites them even though they don't want too; such a little general, never wanted it, they made her, the way she'll follow will lead to great darkness before the light prevails. The dark is waiting, always waiting, bidding time, for time is all it has. Will make the perfect killer, perfect monster."
Dru giggled, the sound bounced off the walls and seemed to echo through the empty room. She still held the porcelain figure and her hand tightened as she began to spin; singing.
"Best monsters. Best monsters always made from man.
They make their prey scream so prettily,
like echoes of the screams in their minds.
They can remember what it was like to be human,
but the hunger makes them go on and on.
Paint the walls with blood,
paint their homes with blood and death."
She suddenly stopped, the doll dropping from her hand, her dark eyes wide and startled. The vampire looked towards the doorway and hissed at the blonde woman standing there. She hadn't even heard the tart enter.
"Slayer." Drusilla hissed the word through clenched teeth and in the dim light of the room, the normally neat and even pearly whites looking like rows of jagged teeth as the candle's light danced along them briefly when the blonde smiled in acknowledgment.
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