It’s been a long haul, but liliaeth and I finally have another little interlude of Beloved for your perusal. We’re well into the fifth month of William’s captivity. Please follow the Warning Alert System.
William is nearing 10 1/2 years old.
Just what has been going on with Dawn since her surprise guest showed up at Links? Slight warning for not graphic death(s).
Please, as always, read and comment! The muse? We have a muse? The little… princess seems to have taken an inconvenient vacation without leave. If anyone has an idea how to tempt the wench back, we’re all ears. Feedback is a soothing balm.
Goddess bless willa_writes - my sweet petunia and beta-supreme, and smooches to gillo and just_sue for putting up with my insanity.
To read Beloved from the beginning, go Here.
Full-sized banner by liliaeth beneath the cut.
Beloved – Interlude 18-19C – Deliver Me From Evil
Taking advantage of the mad vampiress’ absence, Dawn quickly skinned off her dirty clothing. Grateful for the running water, she filled up the commercial sink by stuffing her jeans in the drain. By using her t-shirt for a washcloth, she was able to hurry through what Joyce used to call a birdbath; just enough for the stinky parts to un-stinkify… somewhat. A little baby powder, a little deodorant, and she’d just have to settle for being fresh as an imprisoned daisy.
A little more powder sprinkled on her hairbrush took care of the greasy feel of her once shining locks. Why she stubbornly held onto the waist-length growth was beyond her understanding and Dawn swore that a salon was the first place she’d hit once she was free. Well, after a hot bath and a food-fest, anyway.
With a moue of disgust, Dawn pulled on a ‘clean’ pair of panties, struggled into her lacy but oh-so-impractical bra and finished getting dressed in a pair of leggings and a lightweight sweater – the only items that had dried over the past two days.
Everything Dawn owned was stained with the dust that covered every inch of the abandoned warehouse where she’d been kept for the past few weeks. Her body foam ran out after the first few days. When she caught a glimpse of herself in a cracked mirror, she looked like one of those workhouse urchins from Oliver Twist.
Dawn stared at the unguarded door. It should be so simple. Get up, open the door, and leave. And yet any time she stood with the express purpose of escaping, her legs refused to hold her. Wobbly-kneed, she had no choice but to stay on the ground.
Her empty stomach gurgled, echoing in the empty building. Dawn couldn’t remember the last time Drusilla had fed her. She scrounged around, shaking empty cereal boxes and cellophane cookie wrappers scattered around the floor. No way was she going to throw them into the rusty dumpster. Not since… A deep shudder wracked her body and she rapidly turned her thoughts in another direction.
She looked ruefully at the take-out menus littering the floor. The one and only time Dawn had talked Drusilla into calling for take-out, Dawn got sweet and sour chicken, and Miss Fang got the delivery boy. She wouldn’t be responsible for any more deaths just to feed her own face.
Not like they could use her cell phone again. The first time the dulcet tones of I’ll Be There For You rang out from the little phone, the vampiress had tossed it to the ground. It now lay in pieces; shattered under Drusilla’s high-buttoned demi-boot.
“The pixies shan’t speak with us,” she had cooed. “They only tell filthy lies.”
Dawn mourned the loss of her cell phone. All of her most important numbers were there. Buffy’s old cell number, Giles’ private line… Connor. What if that call had been from him? The last thing she’d done before being dragged out of Links was hit the send key on that email. What would he think if she didn’t answer his calls? What if…
“Gods, Buffy,” Dawn moaned into her hands. “I thought we were past this crap already. I’m twenty seven frikkin’ years old and I still need my sister to rescue me. I wish…”
The sound of the heavy metal door opening drew Dawn’s attention.
“Hello! Is anybody here?”
A young man carrying several flat pizza boxes in his right hand walked into the warehouse. He paused just inside the door, trying to see clearly in the dim light.
“I – I’ve got a delivery for someone named Morning Light. Are you here?”
The door slammed shut behind him.
“Time for dinner, my pet,” Drusilla’s mad laughter trilled softly as she danced around the bewildered delivery man. “So nice of you to deliver a hot meal for two.”
“Run!” Dawn wanted to shout. “Get out. Save yourself.” Not a word passed her lips as tears fell silently down her cheeks.
“No problem.” The unsuspecting man placed the pizzas on a nearby desk. “That’ll be ten pounds, please.”
With a wicked grin, Drusilla trailed her fingers along his outstretched arm, cupping his chin and turning his face towards hers. “It’s not proper to talk about money, poppet. You look positively… delicious.”
The man seemed uncomfortable with her attentions, but tried to remain polite to his ‘customer’.
“I-I’m flattered, lady,” he hedged, attempting to move out of her grasp. “But I’m a married man. I’ve got little ones at home waitin’ for their dad.”
Her fingers tightened, droplets of blood decorating razor-sharp fingernails.
“Shh, now,” Drusilla crooned. “Look into my eyes. Be in me.”
And just like that, his struggles ceased, as had countless others before him.
Dawn’s stomach rolled. She watched as the vampiress sunk her fangs into the man’s neck, her eyes closed in bliss as she drained his lifeblood. The enticing smell of the almost forgotten pizzas filled the warehouse, and the young woman was torn between drooling and throwing up.
There was nothing she could do as Drusilla tossed the man’s corpse head-first into the dumpster, where he joined the dozen or so others that had gone before him. The impact of his body stirred the not-so-fresh aroma that had begun to taint the air.
When Drusilla shoved one of the pizza boxes under her nose, Dawn’s hunger won out over her remorse, and she greedily devoured slice after slice.
The vampiress nodded her approval.
“Be strong, my pretty green light. The time will soon be nigh to rescue the darkling knight. It won’t do to have the maiden swoon.”
“William?” Dawn whispered. It seemed like ages since she’d thought of the boy.
“Our little kitten has lost his mittens, and we shall help him find them.” With a toss of her brunette curls, Drusilla seemed to float towards the door and exited into the night.
Dawn feared that the next time the door opened it would be Will shoved inside as a snack for the lunatic. She’d let it be known that she had plans for the boy. Oh, God! What if she planned to turn him? A ten year old vampire?
She stared numbly at her greasy fingers, wondering how it was all going to end.