Something is inside her, whispering to her, seducing her with lies and, to her sorrow, truths. She curls on the feather mattress, trying to ignore the pain from lash marks, the pleasure that continues to quiver through the secret place between her legs, and listens to the whispers.
They tell her glorious things. Dark and evil things. Give her images of places, people she's never seen. Past, present, future, all are laid out before her, all the dark moments of her life.
The burnings and the killings and the massacres. She sees herself waltzing through fields of corpses, red poppies of blood staining olive and brown uniforms. She sees her companion--not the one sleeping beside her, but a slender, blond man with wicked blue eyes who brings her flowers and dying babies. He seduces her amongst the dead and dying.
She sees girls, so many girls, different colors, different places. They fight and die, one at her own hand. The images shift quickly, growing vibrant. Light blinds her and she sees scandalously short skirts and young men with drooping trousers. She doesn't like those images, so she squeezes her eyes tightly shut until stars burst behind the closed lids and the visions fade.
Inside her she can feel darkness uncurling, filling her inch by inch. He said this would happen, that something would take her over and make her like him. She fights it as she fought him on awakening. She knows he was puzzled. Without asking, she knows why.
Whatever the thing is seducing her, it's damaged, slow. She's still too much herself, too frightened and lost and broken, clinging to the light.
Clinging to her soul.
But, it's a losing battle. She knows she can't win, and she weeps as the darkness pushes the light from her mind and heart.
The images slither back inside her head and she sees herself smiling wickedly, sitting on the lap of the monster who destroyed her, legs around his waist, arms around his neck, breasts bare to his teeth. And she's laughing a dark laugh, and rocking against him, crooning his name. Her decadent dark Angel.
Who sent her to hell.
The darkness wins and the demon behind Drusilla's eyes grins in anticipation of all that is to come.
End