Toys In The Attic: Part 6 of 6. The End
Feb. 24th, 2007 06:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
deborahw37.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
gen_storytellerTitle: Toys In The Attic, part six ( of six)
Summary: A discovery in an antique shop leads to trouble.
Rating: PG13.
Warnings: Character death.
previous parts here
http://community.livejournal.com/gen_storyteller/40058.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=41549
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=43288
http://community.livejournal.com/gen_storyteller/45696.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=46172
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stir_of_echoes for the first read through and to hesadevil for being a great beta.
Previously:
Antique shop owner Ella finds a diary hidden in the pocket of a Victorian
cloak . The diary contains increasingly troubling scenes from the life of
tormented young woman.
Drusilla gets her pretty things back
Toys: The End
She fought back a scream as the slender dark-haired woman released her wrist and began a slow sensuous undulating dance, humming softly to herself as she moved around the cluttered room. Terrified, Ella seized her chance and ran for the door. But somehow the woman was there before her, moving with inhuman speed and feline grace, slamming her back into the wall with incredible bone shuddering force. Dazed and in pain, she half lay, half sat, where she had fallen, feeling the blood trickle from her wounded jaw, and realising with appalling clarity that she was trapped alone with a madwoman. She began to cry and heard herself whispering "please no please God no!" Another savage blow quieted her.
"Bad mouse, be quiet or you shall have no supper."
"I am really quite annoyed. And if you won't play nicely I shall put the lights out and leave you in the dark. Nasty things live in the dark. Nasty, squirmy, bitey things will come and get you. Nibble nibble nibble on the naughty little mousie."
Long slender fingers waved in Ella's face "Look into my eyes" "Be with me! Be. In. Me!"
And Ella, powerless to resist, obeyed, swaying with the hypnotic movement of the velvet clad body.
"Do you know who I am deary? Do you know who all these pretty things belong to? Didn't your Mummy tell you that it was wrong to steal?"
A word came unbidden into Ella's mind. "Drusilla?" It was insane! Nonsense! It couldn't be Drusilla; poor, tortured, tormented Drusilla was dead long ago. Ella made no sound, but the woman paused in her dancing and clapped her hands giggling in glee.
"Such a clever one. The stars told me you were clever, but you've been such a very bad girl stealing my pretty things, reading my secrets. I saw you. I saw you and they told me how to find you. Such a long long way I came and there you are. Are you frightened little mousie? Are you scared? Would you like me to sing to you? My Mummy used to sing to me when I was frightened "Run and Catch run and catch". But you can't run can you my sweet? You can't move and you can't even speak. Good, quiet little mouse all caught up in the blackberry patch"
And Ella realised that Drusilla spoke the truth. She was powerless; the mouse hypnotised by the hawk, trembling, waiting, praying to wake up. Praying for this night to be over. Praying to a God she didn't even believe in, as the litany continued.
" Beautiful dresses my Spike used to bring me, see? Dresses fit for his princess. Dresses and dinner and shiny things, but nothing was as shiny as my boy. My pretty, pretty Spike. All gone now. Gone like Daddy. Gone to Daddy. Not dust like Grandmother. All gone in light and darkness and fire. His soul got covered in the Slayer and I can see right through him. Should have killed her like the others. He promised me a party with streamers but he gave me ashes and betrayal. Naughty. Bad. Wicked Spike".
Drusilla was kneeling now, looking through the neat piles of clothing, tumbling them on the floor, searching till she found the tattered, bloodstained shirt. Ella watched paralysed, fascinated and terrified as Drusilla buried her face in it then held it against herself and began the dance again.
"The bravest knight in all the land. So sweet. Such a hungry boy, my poor Willy. Fists and fangs and laughter, and loving and dancing and blood. ‘It always has to be blood,’ he said. My bad dog. My glowing and gleaming boy with all of the burning baby fishes swimming around his head. He wanted me he did. He needed me. ‘God yes! Please yes’. And so I made him what he was. But she made him what he is."
Drusilla paused and picked up the notebook, stroking its cover and keening softly to herself
" I was hiding from the screaming, just like last time but he found me and they hurt me. And then I was happy but so lonely. So lonely for ever so many years. Grandmother was jealous. She wouldn't let Daddy hurt me even a little bit, so I found my sweet William, my pretty Spike, and made him mine with a kiss and the stars sang to me and all the bells rang and rang and rang for our wedding. I was his black Goddess, his ripe, wicked plum, his princess. I was his destiny. Then she came and it all turned to ashes, and the stars would only sing me sad songs"
Drusilla turned back to the book caressing it, crooning to it.
" Daddy was so cross when I asked him for my book. He had to go back to the convent to get it. Couldn't leave it there with all the pretty dead ones, mustn't spill all our secrets now must we? Wouldn't be right, wouldn't be nice. So he made me promise to be careful and to keep my secrets and my beautiful things locked up, locked away from prying eyes. I was very, very unhappy when I found the house empty and my treasures vanished into the air. And now it's just you and me and my pretty precious things. Bad mice need taking care of, need teaching a lesson.
Do you have a Mummy? My Mummy was cross with me because I saw things I shouldn't have seen. But Spike always took care of me. He found Daddy and let me play, oh such pretty patterns and such pretty noises he made. And Spike made me strong again. But then he was hurt and sad, so sad. He didn't even want little Sunshine and she tasted so very sweet, all white and wriggly. And then he was cross with me too and I had to leave him. My knight was all gone... all gone away and I couldn't see him any more. He tasted of ashes, nasty grey ashes, bitter in my mouth. He tasted of her, he tasted of his Slayer".
Drusilla was closer now, flexing her fingers, admiring their white tipped red polish.
"All Gone now. Daddy and Grandmother and Spike. All gone and left me. But she's still there, still laughing at us and the pixies told me where to find her.
I like Italy it tastes of wine and moonlight and old, cold death. The stones scream and the strasa is covered with blood and roses. Too long since I've been there. Maybe if I'm a good girl I can have a pony ride. I like my naughty horse, he tastes of Sunshine but he doesn't wriggle. You could have come with me if you weren't such a silly mousie"
The scarlet tipped fingers flashed across Ella's throat.
"Ciao Baby."
" Night night."
End
Summary: A discovery in an antique shop leads to trouble.
Rating: PG13.
Warnings: Character death.
previous parts here
http://community.livejournal.com/gen_storyteller/40058.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=41549
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=43288
http://community.livejournal.com/gen_storyteller/45696.html#cutid1
http://www.livejournal.com/editjournal.bml?journal=gen_storyteller&itemid=46172
Thanks to
stir_of_echoes for the first read through and to hesadevil for being a great beta.Previously:
Antique shop owner Ella finds a diary hidden in the pocket of a Victorian
cloak . The diary contains increasingly troubling scenes from the life of
tormented young woman.
Drusilla gets her pretty things back
Toys: The End
She fought back a scream as the slender dark-haired woman released her wrist and began a slow sensuous undulating dance, humming softly to herself as she moved around the cluttered room. Terrified, Ella seized her chance and ran for the door. But somehow the woman was there before her, moving with inhuman speed and feline grace, slamming her back into the wall with incredible bone shuddering force. Dazed and in pain, she half lay, half sat, where she had fallen, feeling the blood trickle from her wounded jaw, and realising with appalling clarity that she was trapped alone with a madwoman. She began to cry and heard herself whispering "please no please God no!" Another savage blow quieted her.
"Bad mouse, be quiet or you shall have no supper."
"I am really quite annoyed. And if you won't play nicely I shall put the lights out and leave you in the dark. Nasty things live in the dark. Nasty, squirmy, bitey things will come and get you. Nibble nibble nibble on the naughty little mousie."
Long slender fingers waved in Ella's face "Look into my eyes" "Be with me! Be. In. Me!"
And Ella, powerless to resist, obeyed, swaying with the hypnotic movement of the velvet clad body.
"Do you know who I am deary? Do you know who all these pretty things belong to? Didn't your Mummy tell you that it was wrong to steal?"
A word came unbidden into Ella's mind. "Drusilla?" It was insane! Nonsense! It couldn't be Drusilla; poor, tortured, tormented Drusilla was dead long ago. Ella made no sound, but the woman paused in her dancing and clapped her hands giggling in glee.
"Such a clever one. The stars told me you were clever, but you've been such a very bad girl stealing my pretty things, reading my secrets. I saw you. I saw you and they told me how to find you. Such a long long way I came and there you are. Are you frightened little mousie? Are you scared? Would you like me to sing to you? My Mummy used to sing to me when I was frightened "Run and Catch run and catch". But you can't run can you my sweet? You can't move and you can't even speak. Good, quiet little mouse all caught up in the blackberry patch"
And Ella realised that Drusilla spoke the truth. She was powerless; the mouse hypnotised by the hawk, trembling, waiting, praying to wake up. Praying for this night to be over. Praying to a God she didn't even believe in, as the litany continued.
" Beautiful dresses my Spike used to bring me, see? Dresses fit for his princess. Dresses and dinner and shiny things, but nothing was as shiny as my boy. My pretty, pretty Spike. All gone now. Gone like Daddy. Gone to Daddy. Not dust like Grandmother. All gone in light and darkness and fire. His soul got covered in the Slayer and I can see right through him. Should have killed her like the others. He promised me a party with streamers but he gave me ashes and betrayal. Naughty. Bad. Wicked Spike".
Drusilla was kneeling now, looking through the neat piles of clothing, tumbling them on the floor, searching till she found the tattered, bloodstained shirt. Ella watched paralysed, fascinated and terrified as Drusilla buried her face in it then held it against herself and began the dance again.
"The bravest knight in all the land. So sweet. Such a hungry boy, my poor Willy. Fists and fangs and laughter, and loving and dancing and blood. ‘It always has to be blood,’ he said. My bad dog. My glowing and gleaming boy with all of the burning baby fishes swimming around his head. He wanted me he did. He needed me. ‘God yes! Please yes’. And so I made him what he was. But she made him what he is."
Drusilla paused and picked up the notebook, stroking its cover and keening softly to herself
" I was hiding from the screaming, just like last time but he found me and they hurt me. And then I was happy but so lonely. So lonely for ever so many years. Grandmother was jealous. She wouldn't let Daddy hurt me even a little bit, so I found my sweet William, my pretty Spike, and made him mine with a kiss and the stars sang to me and all the bells rang and rang and rang for our wedding. I was his black Goddess, his ripe, wicked plum, his princess. I was his destiny. Then she came and it all turned to ashes, and the stars would only sing me sad songs"
Drusilla turned back to the book caressing it, crooning to it.
" Daddy was so cross when I asked him for my book. He had to go back to the convent to get it. Couldn't leave it there with all the pretty dead ones, mustn't spill all our secrets now must we? Wouldn't be right, wouldn't be nice. So he made me promise to be careful and to keep my secrets and my beautiful things locked up, locked away from prying eyes. I was very, very unhappy when I found the house empty and my treasures vanished into the air. And now it's just you and me and my pretty precious things. Bad mice need taking care of, need teaching a lesson.
Do you have a Mummy? My Mummy was cross with me because I saw things I shouldn't have seen. But Spike always took care of me. He found Daddy and let me play, oh such pretty patterns and such pretty noises he made. And Spike made me strong again. But then he was hurt and sad, so sad. He didn't even want little Sunshine and she tasted so very sweet, all white and wriggly. And then he was cross with me too and I had to leave him. My knight was all gone... all gone away and I couldn't see him any more. He tasted of ashes, nasty grey ashes, bitter in my mouth. He tasted of her, he tasted of his Slayer".
Drusilla was closer now, flexing her fingers, admiring their white tipped red polish.
"All Gone now. Daddy and Grandmother and Spike. All gone and left me. But she's still there, still laughing at us and the pixies told me where to find her.
I like Italy it tastes of wine and moonlight and old, cold death. The stones scream and the strasa is covered with blood and roses. Too long since I've been there. Maybe if I'm a good girl I can have a pony ride. I like my naughty horse, he tastes of Sunshine but he doesn't wriggle. You could have come with me if you weren't such a silly mousie"
The scarlet tipped fingers flashed across Ella's throat.
"Ciao Baby."
" Night night."
End
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 08:43 pm (UTC)Wonderful, wonderful final chapter. I'm so grateful to you for posting this fic here. I don't think I've ever come across Drusilla's backtory in her own words before.
I think the re-arrangement of the paragraph about Ella realising she is trapped works really well. Brava!
More?
no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 11:40 pm (UTC)Pfft! He can do what he wants in the comics, it doesn't alter what was cannon at the time the show aired. A nice 'missing scene' of Dru in Rome, either before or after TGIQ would be truly scrumptious.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 10:29 am (UTC)However there's lots of potential in earlier visits to Rome
Ciao :)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 10:38 am (UTC)Precisely my point. Joss can flannel all he wants. Let him play in his own sandbox with the children, I'm staying with the adults in Rome.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:11 pm (UTC)Very nice!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:39 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-24 09:40 pm (UTC)I often wonder what Dru is up to these days :)
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 06:59 am (UTC)Bravo...you really should write more, y'know.
no subject
Date: 2007-02-25 10:31 am (UTC)I very rarely write fanfic but once in a very long while a plot bunny bites and, as you say, Dru is grest fun to write :)
no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-01 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-07 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-03-07 06:15 pm (UTC)I must take a look at your site later .