KATY ZAPATKA BLOOD AT ONCE, BLOOD ETERNAL

Short but good. You might argue that I say everything's good...but then again I only put good things on this site! As the name suggests, this has some violence in it. Mail Katy at jbrain@iconn.net. RATING: PG-13 (UK 12) for mild violence and sexual themes.

The city was large, but nearly silent. It seemed to Spike that the town was as dead as the people that were unfortunate enough to live there. A rage of plague had broken out across Eastern Europe--a detriment to the inhabitants, but an advantage to Spike. Oh sure, he'd been around for awhile...eighty odd years or so, but he still had the appetite of a newly made vampire. He could feed all night, draining the blood of nine or ten humans, sleep, and then do it all over again the next night. These people however, weakened by their ill state, provided no real challenge to Spike, and he was becoming anxious to move on. For awhile the easy hunt was fine, but now he was in need of an adventure. He walked the streets aimlessly, hoping to find something interesting.

He also needed a travelling partner. He'd been hopelessly searching for the proper companion ever since Angel had abandoned him. Angel, for all the supreme viciousness that he claimed, had a soft spot-- and her name was Darla. Darla hadn't liked Spike very much, and he supposed that he understood why. She'd grown tired of his propositioning, although she had appreciated his abilities enough in the past. Angel loved her--and was bizarrely dependent on her sexual charms. They had stolen away one night while Spike was feeding, and he hadn't seen them since.

Spike had searched for several months, but they had left no real trail. He suspected that they were in Italy somewhere, but he didn't really care to look. That Darla was a selfish bitch--he could do better. And he wanted a woman that would be -all- his. Something had drawn him to this place, but as yet he hadn't found anything of consequence.

Coming to the end of a block, he turned the corner onto another street. He suddenly became aware of a large building up the road several hundred yards. It was glowing with the light of a waning fire.

Spike's curiosity got the better of him, and he strode up to the front gates of the building. Spelled out across the gate in black ironwork were the words "Whispering Pines Asylum." There were swarms of people gathered just beyond the gate...mental patients, he supposed. The patients were heavily guarded by a series of large men in blue coveralls. Spike chose a man who looked a little more official, a bearded fellow wearing a stained white coat.

"What in the bloody hell is goin' on here?" he asked the man.

The man turned to him, his eyes glazed and distracted. "One of our patients became convinced that demons were overrunning the hospital...she set fire to a guard, and then proceeded to catch both her mattress and curtains in the blaze."

A light began to shine in Spike's eyes. Now he knew what had drawn him to this place. He nodded at the man, encouraging him to continue.

"She's still in the building, and we can't seem to get her out," the man admitted shamefully.

"She'll be killed in the fire, then?" Spike asked quietly, almost mournfully.

"Oh no," the man said. "The fire is now well contained--but she's locked herself away in one of the root cellars."

"Well, go on in and get her, then!" Spike ordered him.

"Oh, I don't think so. You see, our dear Drusilla has an obsession with knives and other sharp objects. You should see the damage she's done to herself, let alone the men and women who work here! If someone were to try to forcibly remove her, she might attack. Eventually she'll fall asleep, and then we will attempt to capture her."

Spike stared at the man in disgust. The mere idea of this girl was thrilling to him. Not only was she a fire-starter, but she also appreciated the power of blood. He had to meet her.

"I'll go in for you," he offered to the man.

"No. I'm sorry, but I cannot allow that. I don't know you, and might try to hurt you."

"I'm not worried...just doing my good deed for the day." Spike tried to give the man a genuine smile.

"No, sir...please...we will handle this later..."

But Spike had already begun to move away, and before long, he was pushing through the heavy oak doors at the entrance to the asylum. The place was dark as pitch, and it gave off a damp, sour odor--a result of all the water used in putting out the fire. Spike allowed his vampiric instincts to take over, helping him search for his prize.

He could smell her. Her scent was intoxicating, and he could sense that she had more than her own blood running through her. Was it possible that she was a vampire as well? He searched room by room until he finally came to a basement door. Following the stairs downward, his eyes adjusting to the light with each step, he finally caught a glimpse of her.

She sat in the corner, clutching a single white candle. Spike walked closer and closer, until he was sure that she could see him. Just as the man had warned him, he could see several knives lying beside her. Now he understood...trapped in the asylum, too weak to feed of her own volition, she used the knives to slice into her prey. She had one of the larger knives in her lap, her hand wrapped desperately around the long blade. Blood flowed freely from her closed fingers--a dark, velvety, crimson shade. It smelled spicy, as though her blood was made of fire. The blood had soaked through her hospital gown--a sheath of white cotton.

"Hello, Drusilla," he said calmly, not at all frightened of her.

In a whispered tone she said: "I know who you are. You've come for me, haven't you?" Her voice was also calm; no fear was present in this girl.

"Come and sit beside me, and we shall talk about the future that we share," she offered sweetly.

Spike was surprised, yet delighted. Was it really supposed to be this easy? "How do you know me, my sweet?" he asked.

"It was Angel, my precious. Angel promised me that he would send my savior...just before he left me. I was so weak, nearly dead...I had no choice. I decided that I could safely wait here for you. I knew that you would find me."

She seemed fairly coherent...he could not imagine why she was trapped here. It had to be the proximity to easily captured prey. Some of his anger toward Angel evaporated--maybe he truly had done him a favor by leaving. Spike became aware that Drusilla was still speaking, mumbling to herself. He strained to understand, but it was nearly impossible.

"Oh, my darling...I know, I know, I've always known. I've been waiting for you for so long, so long, forever...my love, my precious, my sweet..." she rambled unintelligibly.

Taking his eyes away from her delicate, papery face for a moment, he allowed his sight to travel over the rest of her body. Spike had thought the blood on her gown was only from the wound on her hand, but he could now see that she had deep cuts all over her legs, up her thighs, and even across her stomach, which he could glimpse through the holes slashed in her gown.

"There isn't much left of me," she whispered. "I've done all the work for you, my precious. Take my blood, make me yours--make us one."

Spike was confused by her words. "But Drusilla, my sweet--you are already a vampire, no? I can feed from you if you choose... but I do not see the purpose behind it."

"Spike, my love," she said, whispering his name for the first time, "if you feed from me, and I from you, we will be joined. A marriage...a husband, a wife...blood at once, blood eternal."

Spike's resistance was growing thin. Drusilla's blood, flowing across the floor now, was surrounding him in a circle of beautiful darkness. Deep in his heart, though it had long been dormant, he knew that she spoke the truth. Her spirit had drawn him to this place...the warmth of her love was enticing, filling him with a pleasure he had never known. It was a gentle, sensual feeling-- infinitely more wonderful than anything he could imagine. Meeting her eyes once again, he consented to her will.

Extending his hand, he gently pushed her to the floor. She lay still and beautiful beneath him, waiting for his touch. Spike took the knife and the candle from her hands, laying the knife on the floor and snuffing out the candle. They were now encased in complete darkness...yet he could still see Drusilla laying there, her skin giving off a luminous glow. They both gave off an internal light...the fire of their beings longing to be joined. He ran his hand down her body, finally reaching the hem of her gown. He pulled slowly, drawing the gown upward, over her head. She shivered slightly.

He played his fingers in Drusilla's hair, letting them dance slowly down her neck and onto her shoulder, choosing a place to begin. Running his tongue over her already cold skin, he licked the blood from her stomach, her legs, her breasts, ending by finally sucking the blood from her cheeks and lips. She lay there, white as snow...drained of nearly everything. Spike could see that she was being born all over again, right before his eyes. His body filled with sensual pride, pleased at his accomplishment.

"And now, my sweet...will you give to me your life? Will you share with me the source of your fire?" Her words seemed to come out of nowhere, pleading with him for a spark of hope.

Taking the knife from where he had placed it on the floor, he used its tip to carve a line along the side of his face. His warm blood began to flow freely. Drusilla stuggled to sit up, suddenly aware of the river of blood he was offering to her. Spike reached for her hands, lifting her toward his face. Her lips met his cheek, and she softly sank her teeth into the moist flesh. She gave only two short pulls, tasting him according to her pleasure.

Drusilla moved her face a short distance from him, staring deeply into her new husband's eyes. "There," she said, her voice filled with power, "it is done. It was so easy, no? Angel promised that it would be..."

Sensing a wave of sadness running through her, Spike kissed her gently on the lips. "What is wrong, my dear wife?" he whispered. Had he done something wrong? It pained him to think that he had displeased her already.

"My darling, my Spike...you will not leave me now, will you? Like Angel? I cannot bear to be alone again..."

"I will promise you now, Drusilla--I will never leave you. You have made me whole again. I knew that I would find my perfect companion one day...you are more than I had dared to hope for." His voice broke, bursting with sincerity and love.

"Truly joined...together forever. I like that very much." She seemed satisfied with his promise.

"We must leave here now, my princess. Sneak away from this place of darkness and seek a life of our own." He stood up, drawing her to his side.

Drusilla lay her palm across his cheek--a loving gesture. "Daddy? I feel hungry. Did you bring me a present?" She said these words softly, like a child, but he could feel the threat behind them.

"Out in the yard, my dear. The yard is filled with presents of all shapes and sizes...and they are all waiting for you..." Spike's joyful laugh joined with Drusilla's timid one, mixing into celebratory music.

Their laughter rang throughout the building, escaping into the night air.

The End

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