Angelus' Offspring- Chapter Three
Title: Angelus' Offspring
Author: Rowynne Crowley
Rating: PG-13 for some chapters, NC-17 for others, read at your own risk, as I can't remember what's in each chapter.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Multiple pairings with Angel(us), as well as Spike (William), plus numerous others.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Angel. They are the property of Joss the Great and Powerful. Any characters associated with said Masterpieces belong to Mr. Whedon and his Whedonettes. All others are mine, but feel free to play with them if you like.
Notes: Some very minor details such as names and dates were borrowed from various other fanfics, including but not limited to The Spike Thesis at www.channelingboards.com/SpikeThesis
Summary: Liam has a one-nighter with his family's servant, and the union ultimately results in 12 generations of supernaturally endowed twins. Angelus makes it his unlife's mission to destroy them all.
Warnings: Contains adult language, adult content, sexually explicit situations, non-con, graphic torture. If you are disturbed by these things, read no further.
Hannah Gallagher 1754-1767
Reluctant Hero
Convincing Hannah to share her story was even more difficult than convincing Angel to share his. What Angelus did to her, I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy, nor do I blame her for her reluctance in revisiting that horrific period in her past. The terrorists of September 11th surrendered far more readily, and under considerably less cruelty than that with which Angelus brutally tortured Hannah. Nearly two and a half centuries have passed since her terrifying and excruciating imprisonment at the hands of her father, and her sleep is still disturbed by these painful memories. Still, the courage and fortitude with which she faced the hellish experience, and with which she continues battling her personal demons merit chronicling. It is my hope that in reading the details of Hannah's death, others may find comparable strength in themselves should their lives take a similar turn.
I expressed this hope to Hannah, and after loosening her tongue with most of a bottle of expensive French wine, and making me promise to keep the liquor flowing, she ultimately agreed to talk to me. I can only imagine how difficult the recollection was for her, and her cooperation is further evidence of her bravery. She has my deepest admiration and respect. Perhaps in finally sharing her tale, Hannah can at last find the peace of mind she so richly deserves.
In Her Own Words
The remainder of this chapter is the complete and unedited account of the events that took place after Hannah's arrival at her mother's place of employment. I've allowed Hannah to tell the story in her own words, without interruption. What is written here is an exact transcript of her narration.
Author's Note: The following account may be too disturbing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
Vampire Interrupted
He was already feeding from her when I rode up on them. I couldn't believe what I saw. It was just like in my vision. I just knew that he was about to make her a vampire, and I was so shocked that I called out to her without even thinking. "Mom!" I shouted, or whatever we said back then, I don't even remember. Katie swears that it was 'Mom", but I really don't think that was it. But I'm sure it wasn't 'Mother', either-- that's such an ugly word. Anyway, it didn't even occur to me that that was a bad idea. I just wanted to stop him. That was a mistake, and I knew it as soon as I said it. He looked up at me, then he looked at her, raising his eyebrows like, "Oh really?", then he looked at me again, and I knew then that he recognized me as his daughter. Mom always said we were the spittin' image of our Aunt Kathy. I could see it in his eyes that he saw it too. And Mom saw it too, how he knew I was his child, and she screamed for me to run, but before she could finish, before I could even react, he snapped her neck like she was nothin', then just dropped her like a bundle of rags. I screamed, "No!" and tried to turn my horse around to get out of there, but he was too fast. He got behind us and grabbed my horse by the tail. He reared up and bucked me off; I couldn't hold on, and we both tumbled to the ground-- Angelus and I, not the horse. He got away.
I struggled to my feet, and almost got away, I thought, but Angelus grabbed me from behind and caught me in like a bear hug. He got me in a chokehold like this (She wraps her arm around her own throat to demonstrate) and pulled me to him real close so I couldn't move. He lifted me up by neck, and I could feel his breath on my skin. Yeah, I know. Vampires don't breathe. I know all too well. But that doesn't mean they-- we-- don't expel air. Especially when they're trying to scare the bejeezus out of you. I thought for sure I was a goner then, that he was gonna kill me. I wish he had. It would've been better than this life I've got now. Do you have any idea what it's like to become a vampire at thirteen? No. You don't. I can't get a driver's license or passport unless I forge them (which I do), I can't get into a regular bar (one that doesn't cater specifically to demons) or buy cigarettes. I don't even have boobs for Christ's sake!! I'm doomed to spend eternity trapped in the body of a little girl! It sucks!
I tried to scream and get away, but he put his face down close to my ear and he says in this creepy whisper, "Hush, now. There'll be no need for any of that. Daddy's here." I can still hear his voice in my head, just as clear as if he were sitting here now. Every day, right before I fall asleep. Y'know how right before you pass out, sometimes you get that little sleep-jerk? It's like that. Only I get Angelus telling me it's going to be all right. So then he manhandles me into this carriage he's got waiting and he tells me not to make a scene. "I'm not gonna hurt ye," he says, "I just wanna talk to ye." I knew he was full of shit, but then he implied that he'd kill me if I made a fuss, just like he did my mom. Yeah, like he wasn't gonna kill me anyway. But he made it sound like if I just cooperated, he'd let me go. I didn't wanna die, at least not then. If I'd known what he had in my mind, I might have changed my tune. But I didn't. So I just went along, thinking I'd bide my time until I could find a way out. It's not like I could've gotten away, anyhow. He was too strong, and he had a hold of me, good.
I couldn't see where we were going to tell you much about where we ended up. It was just this little cottage somewhere, no neighbors that I could see. He'd probably killed them all anyway. It was a little nicer looking than ours, but not much bigger. He took me into a back bedroom and tied me up on the bed. Tight. A boy scout, he ain't, but the man could tie a knot. There was no escaping. Then he just left me there. I don't know for how long. The windows had these thick, thick coverings, so I couldn't see when it was daytime again. I had no frame of reference at all. I think he was trying psyche me out or something. Like I wasn't already freaked out enough. Anyway, it worked. By the time he came back in, I was so messed up wondering what was going on out there, and what was going to happen to me, that I was actually glad to see him. That was when the nightmare really began.
I don't know how long he kept me there. Days? Weeks? I don't think it was months, but who knows? Time sort of loses all meaning when you're being tortured to death. And you'd be surprised what you can live through in the meantime. I was beaten, burned, bitten and violated. I was cut, whipped, branded. Anything that could be broken was. And for no other reason than it was fun, and because I had the audacity to be spawned from his loins. And yeah, I screamed. I screamed a lot in the beginning. Till I realized he got off on it. Then I'd try to hold it in as much as I could. He didn't like that. So he'd come up with something worse, so that I'd have no choice. He was always coming up with new and interesting ways to keep the game going. That's what it was for him. A game. He wasn't trying to get information from me or anything-- at least not at first-- he just wanted to see how much I could take before it didn't matter what he did anymore. Sometimes the pain would get to be too much, and I'd pass out. He'd up the ante again so that I'd wake up. He wouldn't let me just die. It was to be on his terms or not at all. Once or twice he even went so far as to bring in a doctor to treat me, so he could start over again.
When I was finally so exhausted from the pain and the blood loss, that I didn't have the energy to either scream or keep from screaming, and I was so hungry I wanted to chew my own arm off, he'd bring food. "You've got to keep your strength up," he'd say. You know, so he could torture me some more. I knew it was just another way to keep me alive, to keep the game going, so at first I tried to refuse. That was when he used the branding iron for the first time. He wouldn't even let me starve myself. The first time I refused to eat, he got out that branding iron and-- you don't even wanna know what he did with that. And I screamed to high heaven. I didn't even think I could scream anymore, but I did, and then he shoved the food in, causing me to choke on it. Other times he'd squeeze the sides of my mouth and pry my jaw open to make me eat. Or he'd just force it in, and literally gag me with the spoon. Finally, I decided it was easier to just cooperate. He always waited until I was practically starving, and meal times were the only reprieve I got except for the couple hours a night when he went to town to do whatever else it was that tickled his fancy. So I learned to appreciate to brief respite the meals allowed me.
Death Becomes Her
At some point, I must have mentioned Katie. I don't really remember it; I was so out of it most of the time. But I remember him asking me questions about her. "Who is she to you?" "Where is she?" And after he found out she was my sister, "Where do I find her?" "Is she mine?" Especially that last one. The idea that he might have yet another relative to maim and torture, and another heir, at that, really got him going. Like it gave him renewed purpose. But by this time I knew I wasn't getting out of there. It didn't matter what I said or did, he wasn't gonna let up until he'd exhausted every option in his playbook. So I didn't really care what he did to me anymore. I was just waiting it out until he got bored with me and decided to finally finish me off. No matter what, I wasn't about to sell out my sister. No way in Hell.
Eventually, he realized that and either because he was getting bored and wanted to kick it up a notch, or cuz he thought it would make me more compliant, more willing to give him Katie, he made me an offer. "You want this to be over, don't you?" He told me, " I can make it stop." All I had to do was agree to let him make me a vampire. The pain would stop and I would finally be free. Well, the very idea terrified me even more than everything I'd already been through. That was the last thing I wanted. I was ready to die, and I wanted to stay that way. And I knew that if I became a vampire, there would be even more ways for him to hurt me. And there would be no limit to what he could do to me, what I could live through. So I told him to go fuck himself. He made me pay dearly for that. You ever had your fingernails ripped out? I mean when they weren't already about to fall out on their own? That shit hurts. It's even worse than branding, if you can believe it. After awhile, the cells die and you don't even really feel it anymore. I mean, God, these days you have people doing it to themselves and calling it art. But you'll never find anyone having their nails ripped out for the sake of fashion. Even the most hardcore of the hardcore punkers won't go that far. And with good reason. That shit hurts worse than childbirth. Or maybe it does. I don't know, since I never got to have kids. Hell, after what he did to me, I doubt I could've even if I hadn't died.
Anyways, I fought off that notion as long as I could. I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse. I was wrong. Like I said, he never seemed to run out of ideas. When I finally really couldn't stand it anymore, I screamed at him, "All right! You're gonna do it anyway, so just do it already and get it over with!" But no, that wasn't good enough. It wasn't enough for him just to have my consent; I had to want it. He wanted me to beg him to change me. So it went on. And on! And I really couldn't take it anymore, but he kept dishing it out anyway. And I was so broken, and battered and bruised, that had she lived, I think my own mother wouldn't have recognized me. And I was screaming and crying and begging him to please just kill me, just make it stop. But he wouldn't. Not until I gave him what he wanted. But I didn't want to become a vampire.
I didn't want to be like him. But I was just so tired. I wanted it end. And if becoming a vampire was the only way to end the suffering, then fine. I was ready to accept that. So I asked him again. "Okay. I'll do it. Please. Just make it stop." And do you think that was good enough? No! He didn't believe me. "I think you're just saying that so I'll let you go." And he was right. I was. But more than that, I just wanted him to lay off me. To stop the pain. Even if I had to spend the rest of eternity tied to that bed, if it meant he'd leave me alone, if he'd just stop with the branding iron and the hot pokers and the fingernails, and… everything else, then I was all for it. If he wanted me to beg him to make me a vampire, then I'd beg. I'd plead; I'd get down on my hands and knees-- if I wasn't tied up, that is-- whatever he wanted, if it would finally be over. "No! Please! You don't understand," I cried. "I really mean it. I've never wanted anything else my whole life. Please, Father." Yes, I actually said that. The only time I've ever called him that, and the only time I ever will. Even saying his name still leaves a sour taste in my mouth. 'Angel' my ass! "I wanna be like you," I told him. "I wanna learn from you. Please! I'll do anything you want."
Well, either I finally gave the Academy Award winning performance, or else he was intrigued by my offer to do anything he asked. Either way, he finally agreed to give me what he insisted I wanted. He was waiting for me when I woke up the following evening, and to my surprise, he had untied me. He'd also brought me this poor wretch of girl from town for my first meal. The poor thing was scared out of her wits, and she was right to be. She reminded me of myself, actually. I didn't wanna hurt her, I really didn't. I didn't wanna be anything like Angelus. Even a little bit. But I didn't wanna find out what he'd do to me if I refused. I was done going down that road. If Angelus said, "Jump", I was ready to say, "How high?" He told me to feed, so I fed. I'm sorry about the girl, I really am, but truth be known she was dead no matter what.
Homecoming
Thankfully, he didn't take me up on my offer to do anything. At least not in the way you think. After dinner-- or is it breakfast?-- he let me get cleaned up, and he brought me a new dress to wear. Probably stolen from whoever he'd picked up for his own breakfast. I didn't care. I put it on anyway. My own clothes were nothing but rags by then, and like I said, I wasn't gonna do anything that might piss him off. Then he said he was taking me home. What he meant, of course, was I was taking him home. To meet Katie. Do to her what he did to me. Who knows? Who cares? Not that I no longer cared about my sister, or what happened to her. I did. I do. But I knew by then she wouldn't be there. It was part of our Emergency Plan. If ever one of us didn't come home when we were supposed to, whoever was left was to gather whatever they could carry, and get as far away as possible. So I knew, that when our Mother and I didn't come home that first night, Katie wouldn't have been foolish enough to stick around and wait. Especially with the way I left after having my first vision.
Sure enough, when we got to the house, it was empty and the door was standing open. What was left of our stuff was thrown around haphazardly like someone had left in a hurry, and of course she would have. Angelus started tearing through the house looking for some clue as to where they went. (He didn't have to be invited, cuz no one lived there anymore) Of course, there was nothing to find. I don't think Katie even knew where she was going until she got there. But I didn't stick around while he finished searching the place. I followed him into the main room and acted like I was looking, too, but as soon as he went to check the bedrooms, I was out of there. And I made sure I was long gone before he even knew I was missing.
Author: Rowynne Crowley
Rating: PG-13 for some chapters, NC-17 for others, read at your own risk, as I can't remember what's in each chapter.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Multiple pairings with Angel(us), as well as Spike (William), plus numerous others.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Angel. They are the property of Joss the Great and Powerful. Any characters associated with said Masterpieces belong to Mr. Whedon and his Whedonettes. All others are mine, but feel free to play with them if you like.
Notes: Some very minor details such as names and dates were borrowed from various other fanfics, including but not limited to The Spike Thesis at www.channelingboards.com/SpikeThesis
Summary: Liam has a one-nighter with his family's servant, and the union ultimately results in 12 generations of supernaturally endowed twins. Angelus makes it his unlife's mission to destroy them all.
Warnings: Contains adult language, adult content, sexually explicit situations, non-con, graphic torture. If you are disturbed by these things, read no further.
Hannah Gallagher 1754-1767
Reluctant Hero
Convincing Hannah to share her story was even more difficult than convincing Angel to share his. What Angelus did to her, I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy, nor do I blame her for her reluctance in revisiting that horrific period in her past. The terrorists of September 11th surrendered far more readily, and under considerably less cruelty than that with which Angelus brutally tortured Hannah. Nearly two and a half centuries have passed since her terrifying and excruciating imprisonment at the hands of her father, and her sleep is still disturbed by these painful memories. Still, the courage and fortitude with which she faced the hellish experience, and with which she continues battling her personal demons merit chronicling. It is my hope that in reading the details of Hannah's death, others may find comparable strength in themselves should their lives take a similar turn.
I expressed this hope to Hannah, and after loosening her tongue with most of a bottle of expensive French wine, and making me promise to keep the liquor flowing, she ultimately agreed to talk to me. I can only imagine how difficult the recollection was for her, and her cooperation is further evidence of her bravery. She has my deepest admiration and respect. Perhaps in finally sharing her tale, Hannah can at last find the peace of mind she so richly deserves.
In Her Own Words
The remainder of this chapter is the complete and unedited account of the events that took place after Hannah's arrival at her mother's place of employment. I've allowed Hannah to tell the story in her own words, without interruption. What is written here is an exact transcript of her narration.
Author's Note: The following account may be too disturbing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised.
Vampire Interrupted
He was already feeding from her when I rode up on them. I couldn't believe what I saw. It was just like in my vision. I just knew that he was about to make her a vampire, and I was so shocked that I called out to her without even thinking. "Mom!" I shouted, or whatever we said back then, I don't even remember. Katie swears that it was 'Mom", but I really don't think that was it. But I'm sure it wasn't 'Mother', either-- that's such an ugly word. Anyway, it didn't even occur to me that that was a bad idea. I just wanted to stop him. That was a mistake, and I knew it as soon as I said it. He looked up at me, then he looked at her, raising his eyebrows like, "Oh really?", then he looked at me again, and I knew then that he recognized me as his daughter. Mom always said we were the spittin' image of our Aunt Kathy. I could see it in his eyes that he saw it too. And Mom saw it too, how he knew I was his child, and she screamed for me to run, but before she could finish, before I could even react, he snapped her neck like she was nothin', then just dropped her like a bundle of rags. I screamed, "No!" and tried to turn my horse around to get out of there, but he was too fast. He got behind us and grabbed my horse by the tail. He reared up and bucked me off; I couldn't hold on, and we both tumbled to the ground-- Angelus and I, not the horse. He got away.
I struggled to my feet, and almost got away, I thought, but Angelus grabbed me from behind and caught me in like a bear hug. He got me in a chokehold like this (She wraps her arm around her own throat to demonstrate) and pulled me to him real close so I couldn't move. He lifted me up by neck, and I could feel his breath on my skin. Yeah, I know. Vampires don't breathe. I know all too well. But that doesn't mean they-- we-- don't expel air. Especially when they're trying to scare the bejeezus out of you. I thought for sure I was a goner then, that he was gonna kill me. I wish he had. It would've been better than this life I've got now. Do you have any idea what it's like to become a vampire at thirteen? No. You don't. I can't get a driver's license or passport unless I forge them (which I do), I can't get into a regular bar (one that doesn't cater specifically to demons) or buy cigarettes. I don't even have boobs for Christ's sake!! I'm doomed to spend eternity trapped in the body of a little girl! It sucks!
I tried to scream and get away, but he put his face down close to my ear and he says in this creepy whisper, "Hush, now. There'll be no need for any of that. Daddy's here." I can still hear his voice in my head, just as clear as if he were sitting here now. Every day, right before I fall asleep. Y'know how right before you pass out, sometimes you get that little sleep-jerk? It's like that. Only I get Angelus telling me it's going to be all right. So then he manhandles me into this carriage he's got waiting and he tells me not to make a scene. "I'm not gonna hurt ye," he says, "I just wanna talk to ye." I knew he was full of shit, but then he implied that he'd kill me if I made a fuss, just like he did my mom. Yeah, like he wasn't gonna kill me anyway. But he made it sound like if I just cooperated, he'd let me go. I didn't wanna die, at least not then. If I'd known what he had in my mind, I might have changed my tune. But I didn't. So I just went along, thinking I'd bide my time until I could find a way out. It's not like I could've gotten away, anyhow. He was too strong, and he had a hold of me, good.
I couldn't see where we were going to tell you much about where we ended up. It was just this little cottage somewhere, no neighbors that I could see. He'd probably killed them all anyway. It was a little nicer looking than ours, but not much bigger. He took me into a back bedroom and tied me up on the bed. Tight. A boy scout, he ain't, but the man could tie a knot. There was no escaping. Then he just left me there. I don't know for how long. The windows had these thick, thick coverings, so I couldn't see when it was daytime again. I had no frame of reference at all. I think he was trying psyche me out or something. Like I wasn't already freaked out enough. Anyway, it worked. By the time he came back in, I was so messed up wondering what was going on out there, and what was going to happen to me, that I was actually glad to see him. That was when the nightmare really began.
I don't know how long he kept me there. Days? Weeks? I don't think it was months, but who knows? Time sort of loses all meaning when you're being tortured to death. And you'd be surprised what you can live through in the meantime. I was beaten, burned, bitten and violated. I was cut, whipped, branded. Anything that could be broken was. And for no other reason than it was fun, and because I had the audacity to be spawned from his loins. And yeah, I screamed. I screamed a lot in the beginning. Till I realized he got off on it. Then I'd try to hold it in as much as I could. He didn't like that. So he'd come up with something worse, so that I'd have no choice. He was always coming up with new and interesting ways to keep the game going. That's what it was for him. A game. He wasn't trying to get information from me or anything-- at least not at first-- he just wanted to see how much I could take before it didn't matter what he did anymore. Sometimes the pain would get to be too much, and I'd pass out. He'd up the ante again so that I'd wake up. He wouldn't let me just die. It was to be on his terms or not at all. Once or twice he even went so far as to bring in a doctor to treat me, so he could start over again.
When I was finally so exhausted from the pain and the blood loss, that I didn't have the energy to either scream or keep from screaming, and I was so hungry I wanted to chew my own arm off, he'd bring food. "You've got to keep your strength up," he'd say. You know, so he could torture me some more. I knew it was just another way to keep me alive, to keep the game going, so at first I tried to refuse. That was when he used the branding iron for the first time. He wouldn't even let me starve myself. The first time I refused to eat, he got out that branding iron and-- you don't even wanna know what he did with that. And I screamed to high heaven. I didn't even think I could scream anymore, but I did, and then he shoved the food in, causing me to choke on it. Other times he'd squeeze the sides of my mouth and pry my jaw open to make me eat. Or he'd just force it in, and literally gag me with the spoon. Finally, I decided it was easier to just cooperate. He always waited until I was practically starving, and meal times were the only reprieve I got except for the couple hours a night when he went to town to do whatever else it was that tickled his fancy. So I learned to appreciate to brief respite the meals allowed me.
Death Becomes Her
At some point, I must have mentioned Katie. I don't really remember it; I was so out of it most of the time. But I remember him asking me questions about her. "Who is she to you?" "Where is she?" And after he found out she was my sister, "Where do I find her?" "Is she mine?" Especially that last one. The idea that he might have yet another relative to maim and torture, and another heir, at that, really got him going. Like it gave him renewed purpose. But by this time I knew I wasn't getting out of there. It didn't matter what I said or did, he wasn't gonna let up until he'd exhausted every option in his playbook. So I didn't really care what he did to me anymore. I was just waiting it out until he got bored with me and decided to finally finish me off. No matter what, I wasn't about to sell out my sister. No way in Hell.
Eventually, he realized that and either because he was getting bored and wanted to kick it up a notch, or cuz he thought it would make me more compliant, more willing to give him Katie, he made me an offer. "You want this to be over, don't you?" He told me, " I can make it stop." All I had to do was agree to let him make me a vampire. The pain would stop and I would finally be free. Well, the very idea terrified me even more than everything I'd already been through. That was the last thing I wanted. I was ready to die, and I wanted to stay that way. And I knew that if I became a vampire, there would be even more ways for him to hurt me. And there would be no limit to what he could do to me, what I could live through. So I told him to go fuck himself. He made me pay dearly for that. You ever had your fingernails ripped out? I mean when they weren't already about to fall out on their own? That shit hurts. It's even worse than branding, if you can believe it. After awhile, the cells die and you don't even really feel it anymore. I mean, God, these days you have people doing it to themselves and calling it art. But you'll never find anyone having their nails ripped out for the sake of fashion. Even the most hardcore of the hardcore punkers won't go that far. And with good reason. That shit hurts worse than childbirth. Or maybe it does. I don't know, since I never got to have kids. Hell, after what he did to me, I doubt I could've even if I hadn't died.
Anyways, I fought off that notion as long as I could. I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse. I was wrong. Like I said, he never seemed to run out of ideas. When I finally really couldn't stand it anymore, I screamed at him, "All right! You're gonna do it anyway, so just do it already and get it over with!" But no, that wasn't good enough. It wasn't enough for him just to have my consent; I had to want it. He wanted me to beg him to change me. So it went on. And on! And I really couldn't take it anymore, but he kept dishing it out anyway. And I was so broken, and battered and bruised, that had she lived, I think my own mother wouldn't have recognized me. And I was screaming and crying and begging him to please just kill me, just make it stop. But he wouldn't. Not until I gave him what he wanted. But I didn't want to become a vampire.
I didn't want to be like him. But I was just so tired. I wanted it end. And if becoming a vampire was the only way to end the suffering, then fine. I was ready to accept that. So I asked him again. "Okay. I'll do it. Please. Just make it stop." And do you think that was good enough? No! He didn't believe me. "I think you're just saying that so I'll let you go." And he was right. I was. But more than that, I just wanted him to lay off me. To stop the pain. Even if I had to spend the rest of eternity tied to that bed, if it meant he'd leave me alone, if he'd just stop with the branding iron and the hot pokers and the fingernails, and… everything else, then I was all for it. If he wanted me to beg him to make me a vampire, then I'd beg. I'd plead; I'd get down on my hands and knees-- if I wasn't tied up, that is-- whatever he wanted, if it would finally be over. "No! Please! You don't understand," I cried. "I really mean it. I've never wanted anything else my whole life. Please, Father." Yes, I actually said that. The only time I've ever called him that, and the only time I ever will. Even saying his name still leaves a sour taste in my mouth. 'Angel' my ass! "I wanna be like you," I told him. "I wanna learn from you. Please! I'll do anything you want."
Well, either I finally gave the Academy Award winning performance, or else he was intrigued by my offer to do anything he asked. Either way, he finally agreed to give me what he insisted I wanted. He was waiting for me when I woke up the following evening, and to my surprise, he had untied me. He'd also brought me this poor wretch of girl from town for my first meal. The poor thing was scared out of her wits, and she was right to be. She reminded me of myself, actually. I didn't wanna hurt her, I really didn't. I didn't wanna be anything like Angelus. Even a little bit. But I didn't wanna find out what he'd do to me if I refused. I was done going down that road. If Angelus said, "Jump", I was ready to say, "How high?" He told me to feed, so I fed. I'm sorry about the girl, I really am, but truth be known she was dead no matter what.
Homecoming
Thankfully, he didn't take me up on my offer to do anything. At least not in the way you think. After dinner-- or is it breakfast?-- he let me get cleaned up, and he brought me a new dress to wear. Probably stolen from whoever he'd picked up for his own breakfast. I didn't care. I put it on anyway. My own clothes were nothing but rags by then, and like I said, I wasn't gonna do anything that might piss him off. Then he said he was taking me home. What he meant, of course, was I was taking him home. To meet Katie. Do to her what he did to me. Who knows? Who cares? Not that I no longer cared about my sister, or what happened to her. I did. I do. But I knew by then she wouldn't be there. It was part of our Emergency Plan. If ever one of us didn't come home when we were supposed to, whoever was left was to gather whatever they could carry, and get as far away as possible. So I knew, that when our Mother and I didn't come home that first night, Katie wouldn't have been foolish enough to stick around and wait. Especially with the way I left after having my first vision.
Sure enough, when we got to the house, it was empty and the door was standing open. What was left of our stuff was thrown around haphazardly like someone had left in a hurry, and of course she would have. Angelus started tearing through the house looking for some clue as to where they went. (He didn't have to be invited, cuz no one lived there anymore) Of course, there was nothing to find. I don't think Katie even knew where she was going until she got there. But I didn't stick around while he finished searching the place. I followed him into the main room and acted like I was looking, too, but as soon as he went to check the bedrooms, I was out of there. And I made sure I was long gone before he even knew I was missing.