Seven years later
Will walked the two blocks from his friend’s place back home. He didn’t expect any trouble.
“Oohhhhh… Miss Edith, look who I found… one of Angelus’ old acquaintances! Wouldn’t he be pleased if I gave this boy to him…”
Will knew it was a vampire, but he gave the whole scared-little-boy thing a shot anyway. “Who… who are you?” he asked, purposefully stammering over his words.
The vampire frowned. “This isn’t the same gent at all! Why, Angelus won’t be pleased after I promised him something so much fun…” she snapped her head and stared at Will. “But a boy could make Angelus so much more happy… he loves them so when they’re young…” the vampire approached.
Will was genuinely a bit scared now. “Who are you? Answer me!”
The vampire grinned a very insane grin. “Why, I’m Drusilla. This here is Miss Edith. We’re going to take you away now, but don’t be afraid… it’ll be a while before we start the pain.”
Before Will knew what was happening, she put a hand around Will’s wrist. He resisted and brought out the cross he always had in his bag, putting it to her face. She screamed and shied away. Then she growled and vamped out. “Well then, if that’s the way you want to be,” and she threw her doll into a bush and knocked the cross out of his hand. He fumbled around for a stake but she forced him onto the ground on his back before he got a hold of it. Will yelled, but didn’t scream. He’d dealt with vampires before; if he had any hope of becoming a Watcher, he had to succeed at this.
Drusilla threw his backpack away and ripped his shirt off, sitting on top of him. “I guess I’ll just have to find another boy for Angelus to enjoy. You’ve earned yourself a much better Drusilla death,” she said in a sing-song voice. Will was terrified, but he didn’t move.
She traced a slender finger around his belly, making designs and smiling sweetly. “Your organs make such pretty sounds… I hear them working.” She leaned forward and smelled his torso. “I wonder what they taste like?” she said, turning the finger slightly so the nail was exposed to her skin. She applied pressure and her nails went surprisingly deep. Will gasped, but didn’t scream, or possibly couldn’t scream.
“Leave that boy!” a stern voice said. A fair amount of holy water was promptly thrown over Drusilla’s head and her entire face blistered instantly. She screamed and ran off, completely forgetting about either Will or the doll she’d thrown into the bush.
Giles leaned over his surrogate son and inspected his wounds. He seemed fine other than a heavily-bleeding gash to his stomach. “Are you all right, Will?” he asked. Will seemed a tad in shock, so Giles took out his newly-bought cell phone with all the money and Watcher’s business he had and called an ambulance.
“Oh my God, that looks deep,” the attendant said quietly to Giles when they arrived. “What caused it, do you think?”
Giles shook his head in worry for the boy. “He didn’t say anything. Looks like a mugging,” he said, pushing Will’s backpack under a bush and vowing to come back for it later.
The attendant shook her head. “Are you… any relation to the victim.”
Giles hesitated. He couldn’t decide what would be more believable. “I’m his grandfather. He’s been living with me for seven years since his mother—my daughter—decided that she couldn’t take care of him.”
The attendant nodded and Giles suddenly understood that, in a sense, everything he just told the attendant was true.
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