Footsteps echoed through the empty hallways of the house Drusilla and William had recently 'acquired' on the outskirts of town, as Drusilla silently led a young boy along the corridor.
In the next room, a figure sat. She was young, beautiful and at this point in time, she was also incredibly hungry.
She was tall and slender with dark brown curls that circled down the side of her pale face. Her lips and eyes were dark and the colour of her dress reflected the colour not only of the deepest night but the colour of her heart; black.
It had been twenty-five years since she had last seen the moon and how things had changed since then. The girl had been quite shocked to learn of the events that had occurred since she had last walked the earth.
The evil Angelus had been cursed and recursed with a soul; The Master had died at the hands of a new Slayer, as had Angelus' sire, Darla. The Judge had been overcome, as had The Order of Taraka and Acathla and as she sat in her chair, she fumed to think that the only victory the dark side had had was in killing a few of the old Slayers. It was truly outrageous! But now, how things would change.
At that moment Drusilla came into the girl's room with a young boy for her to feed on. He was barely conscious but even so, she could tell he was terrified. His short brown hair fell over his face and parts of it stuck to his skin, bathed in sweat
Drusilla didn't say a word as she left the boy on the floor in front of the girl, she just backed away slowly.
"Now, now, my sweet," the girl said gently. "Don't be afraid, this won't hurt a bit." Before she killed him though, she allowed him one question, as she did all her victims.
"Who are you?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"I'm Anastasia." She simply replied.
As if that were some kind of suitable answer, the boy lay down and waited for what was to come.
Anastasia bent down and began tickling him with a feather that she had been wearing in her hair. She knew he was too weak to put up a fight, so she just sat and toyed with him until she got bored, which didn't take long.
She grabbed the boy by the shoulder, yanked him up to her mouth and drank. He filled her almost completely.
The next morning Buffy gave Giles the run down on their trip to the cemetery. He listened with deep concern and when she was finished, admitted truthfully that the situation didn't look good.
Almost on cue, the library doors swung open and everyone was shocked to see Amara walk in.
"What the hell..." Xander began.
"Hey! What's going on? Did they change the rule on vampires and sunlight when I wasn't listening or something?" Cordy cut in.
But Amara just laughed.
"You're having trouble remembering that I'm part werewolf, aren't you? I can breath and walk around in sunlight, just as Oz can.
However, I usually don't like to. I tend to burn easily, you see." She said, lifting the sleeve of her heavy leather jacket and revealing a rather large burn.
"Oh well, that explains a lot!" Cordelia said.
"Now what I'm not getting is the fact that you've been around for like...ever and yet every time you enter a room you still seem to do it dramatically. What's up with that? I can't even get anyone to look at me when I come in here." Xander said, genuinely confused.
"What matters Xander, is that you are here." Buffy remarked sarcastically.
"Xander. Buffy. Enough. Amara is obviously here for a reason. You can do the twenty questions act later." Giles said rather shortly.
The library doors swung open once again and this time it was Oz and Willow who entered.
"Whoa! What I miss here?" Oz asked. "Cause this is all making that kind of sense that's...you know...not...again." Giles, too annoyed to speak, ushered Amara into his office and as they walked, Willow couldn't help but notice the clicking noise that he was making with his mouth
The pair talked in the office for about an hour, while the Slayer and the rest of the Slayerettes tried in vain to eavesdrop through the closed door.
When they finally emerged, Giles did not look happy. He told Buffy and the others that he and Amara had reason to believe that a sinister force had resurrected Anastasia about three nights before she had come to them.
Angel walked swiftly from the mansion to the library. He was two blocks from the cemetery when he first heard the footsteps.
A tall man walked behind the vampire. He was dressed in a black suit and his shiny black hair was styled like he had just stepped out of a 50's dance. He was very old and his once-handsome features were now hideously disfigured; his once-strong body now carried itself with a limp. He had come a long way to get here and now that he was, he was going to make sure that Amara realised his return.
Angel turned sharply to see who was pursuing him. He had been able to sense the person since he had woken at sun down. He knew Amara's return was bound to bring creatures of all kinds out of the wood work, he just wasn't expecting to need to kill any of them
He could feel his features changing and within moments, he knew he was wearing his vampire face.
The man walked slowly behind the vampire. He knew that the vampire sensed his presence. As the vampire turned, the man ducked behind a trash can
Angel waited around the corner of an alley for the stranger to walk past, but when he saw the limping man pass his hiding space, he was confused. He had to wonder if he had just imagined the whole thing.
It was only when the man turned to reveal long fangs and glowing yellow eyes that Angel was sure he was not dreaming.
The pair fought hard. Angel recognised the stranger as Henry, a very old demon that had walked the earth long before Angel's time
Henry delivered a sharp punch to Angel's cheek and the skin over the bone split and blood gushed down his face
Angel, unfazed, threw Henry into the side of a dumpster. He was quick to rise to his feet and Angel was horrified when he noticed the horrid burns and scars that ran like roads, all down the side and front of Henry's face.
He lunged again at Angel and his sharp nails ripped Angel's shirt and cut into his skin. Wincing, Angel was a little slow to come back. But while on the ground, Angel found a metal rod that had been thrown against the dumpster, instead of in it. He picked it up, rose to his feet and beat Henry round the side of the head
While he was off balance, Angel whipped a stake from what was left of his pants pocket and drove it, with all his vampire strength, into the heart of the ancient vampire. Before he could hit the pavement, the demon was nothing more than a cloud of dust.
Joyce Summers opened her front door slowly and with caution. Buffy wasn't home and at night time all kinds of creatures came out searching for the Slayer, who just happened to be her eighteen year old daughter
Sometimes she was afraid that it was the police who were at her door. That they had come to tell her that her daughter was dead. She was quite relieved when she saw only a young girl standing under the bright porch light.
Amara felt somewhat out of place as she stood on the front porch or the Summers' home. She had wanted to speak to Buffy
She assumed that the middle aged woman who had just answered the door was her mother and now that she could smell the air in the Summers' home, she knew that Buffy's mother was the only person at home. Amara could also sense the worry that was now beginning to cloud her thoughts.
"May I help you?" The woman asked, uncertainly.
"Actually," Amara replied. "I was hoping that I could see your daughter, Buffy. This is her house, isn't it?" Of course, Amara knew very well that she was at the right house. But until she was sure of the Slayer's mother and her experience with demons, she decided that she would play dumb.
"I'm sorry, but she's not here. If you have nowhere else to be though, you are quite welcome to come in and wait for her." As soon as she'd said it, Joyce regretted it. She knew that she shouldn't have invited the girl in. Buffy had warned her of it on numerous occasions
But all she could do now was stand aside as the young girl breezed past her and into the living room of the house.
The young girl seated herself on the lounge and smiled, gesturing for Joyce to join her. Joyce noticed that the girl was very pale and that she was dressed like Cordelia, which suggested that she had money to waste on clothes. Her long dark hair seemed to be scooped up, except for a few stray bits that hung around her face and lips.
As she smiled, she brushed them away from her slightly parted mouth and Joyce was almost certain that she saw little white fangs in the corners of her mouth.
"So..." She said as she sat across from the visitor. "How do you know Buffy?" "We met through a mutual friend. Actually, I was hoping that she would help me." The girl said, still smiling.
Now that she was listening, Joyce heard her soft voice as it almost purred when she spoke.
"Why Buffy?" Joyce asked. She decided that she'd wait and see if the girl knew Buffy as the Slayer.
"Well, I assume you know that your daughter is the Slayer and all.
Angel was the one who introduced us. I have heard many stories of her fighting and believe that she may be one of the only people that can help me." This statement worried Joyce greatly. She didn't want to think of her daughter fighting any battles.
"I hope you don't mind me asking this, but...how old are you? I mean you don't look as old as Buffy and Angel is much older than she is.
How is it that you know them both? At this, the stranger chuckled.
"I am 535 years old, Ms Summers. So really I am older than both Angel and Buffy put together. But you needn't be frightened of me. I know that deep down you suspect that I am a vampire, like Angel, but I'm not. I am a demon though, that should be obvious. However I am here to stop the rising of a great evil, not to cause problems." At this Joyce was shocked.
"I'm not afraid of you." She said, although she knew she was lying.
"You take me for an immortal idiot, don't you?" said the creature, now a little annoyed.
"I am a creature of the night; a superior being. I can smell your fear. From the moment you answered the door, I have been able hear your heart beating faster and faster; your blood pulsing through your veins like a bullet. I know that your petrified of me because your not exactly sure what I am." She finished.
Before Joyce could do or say anything else, the creature had risen to her feet. She nodded to Joyce, thanked her for her hospitality and showed herself out. She would just have to find Buffy while she was on her rounds.
After Buffy had done her rounds, she and Amara met Buffy's friends back at the library. There, they waited for Angel. He came in a little after 9:00 p.m
When Buffy looked up and saw him, she entered a state of panic.
Angel was a mess. His black pants were in tatters and his shirt was almost ribbons.
"Oh my God! Angel! Buffy cried, getting to her feet.
"I'm fine. Don't worry, it takes a lot to kill me remember." He replied lightly.
Amara got to her feet and walked around Angel as he stood in the foyer.
"Henry," was all she said.
"How did you know?" Angel replied, a look of surprise registering on his face.
"I knew Henry years before I met you. I thought he was dead. Last time I saw him I was with Whistler and we were sure we had finished him off then." "Now, how do you know Whistler?" Buffy asked. She was beyond shock at this time.
Amara sat everybody down and cleaned up Angel's wounds as best she could. She then began her explanation.
"I'll start with Henry..." She began.
"I met Henry on the eve of my one hundredth birthday. He was a tall, handsome man and I was immediately taken by him. What I didn't know was that he was evil. He had a habit of killing and maiming small children
I caught him in the act one night and we fought in the town square.
Henry was in full vamp-face when the towns people came out of their homes to investigate the noise. They saw his face and went after him.
I was left to get away and not long after that evening, I heard that he had been beaten to death by the mob and I believed it.
Although I was obviously mistaken. For decades, I went on believing that he was dead. Until one night, I was with my partner Whistler and Henry and his new gang ambushed us.
At first I had no idea who he was, his face was so badly disfigured.
But I was quick to remember his fighting style and without much fuss, Whistler and I beat him.
However, we were once again interrupted by concerned mortals. A police officer and his partner witnessed Whistler and myself fighting an apparent invalid and his gang of friends, who the cops mistook as more invalids. They ran us into the ally and chased us away. As soon as we were around the corner, the cops were dead. I didn't hear from Henry or his gang again...until today." "Did you kill Henry?" She looked at Angel...
"Yes! Of that, I'm sure." "Now for Whistler," she went on, content with Angel's solemn reply.
"My story starts in Europe. I was in the woods with the Romany on the night Angel was cursed. You see, I thought of them very much as my people. It had been a Romany elder who had cared for me after I was attacked by the werewolf and when I became the demon that I am.
I had returned to their camp to return the favour.
I did that by protecting them and they continued to teach me of their magicks and legends as if I were one of their own.
When Angelus took the life of one of the most honourable daughter's of their tribe, I was just as bent on revenge as they were. After all, that was not the first time he had hurt me.
I left the wood and hid until I knew they had Angelus in the their trap. Then I sat and as a Romany woman chanted the spell of restoration in the camp; I chanted it from the wood.
As you know the spell worked; Angel was cursed. He then booked passage on a ship to America and even though he was unaware of me, I followed him, making sure he met no harm.
Even when we arrived, I felt the need to watch over him and over the next ninety or so years, I made sure he was never in harm's way.
I met Whistler not long after the ship docked. He was a new demon and when we found out that we were both fighting the same war, we decided to form an army that would help protect the world from the forces of darkness.
For years we fought many a battle and we always won; we were virtually unbeatable.
In 1996, when I could watch Angel suffer no longer, I sent Whistler to find him. I still couldn't face Angel myself.
He was living in an alley way in Manhattan and I sent Whistler to give him 'The Choice'; fight for good and become someone or stay a nobody and rot. Thankfully, he made the right choice. The rest as you know, is history." Angel was stunned to hear Amara's story. He had always wondered where Whistler had come from and who had sent him, but never in a million years had he thought the person to be his beloved Amara
It was true. He had shattered Amara's fragile heart into a thousand shards of glass, but it had been his nature. At the time, he had known no better.
Without looking up, Angel rose to his feet and began to leave. His stomach was filled with butterflies and he felt weak in the knees.
Amara, as if reading his mind, climbed to her feet and started after him.
Buffy rose to follow but Giles told her to leave them be. They had many skeletons that had been let out of the closet that night. Now that they had been, hurt feelings were guaranteed.
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