BtVS Double Drabble: Tender Prey
Title: Tender Prey
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Angelus, Drusilla.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 50: Stalk at doubledrabbles.
Spoilers/Setting: Lie To Me.
Summary: Angelus enjoys stalking and tormenting his prey.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Joss Whedon.
A/N: Double drabble.
Angelus liked to stalk his prey. There were times a quick, easy kill was warranted, a light snack before the real fun began, but if hunting was too easy it became boring. No, far better to pick a target and then tear them down inch by inch. The longer it took the more terrified they would become, and the sweeter they would taste when it came time to feast.
It was a game.
He liked young women, well-to-do, preferably with family; parents and siblings, maybe even grandparents, and pets, a beloved lapdog perhaps, or a pony. He always started with the animals, leaving them where they’d generate the most horror and grief.
The father next, the only possible threat, then the grandparents, the siblings, oldest to youngest, the mother, and finally… his chosen one, primed and ready, having lost everything that mattered to her.
Drusilla had fled to a convent, but he’d reached her even there. Stalking was an art form and he was a master. He’d driven her mad, sent her scurrying to the church for sanctuary, and he’d been patient, waiting for the perfect moment.
She was his greatest triumph, his masterpiece, so he’d made her like him.
The End
Fandom: BtVS
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Angelus, Drusilla.
Rating: PG
Written For: Challenge 50: Stalk at doubledrabbles.
Spoilers/Setting: Lie To Me.
Summary: Angelus enjoys stalking and tormenting his prey.
Disclaimer: I don’t own BtVS, or the characters. They belong to the wonderful Joss Whedon.
A/N: Double drabble.
Angelus liked to stalk his prey. There were times a quick, easy kill was warranted, a light snack before the real fun began, but if hunting was too easy it became boring. No, far better to pick a target and then tear them down inch by inch. The longer it took the more terrified they would become, and the sweeter they would taste when it came time to feast.
It was a game.
He liked young women, well-to-do, preferably with family; parents and siblings, maybe even grandparents, and pets, a beloved lapdog perhaps, or a pony. He always started with the animals, leaving them where they’d generate the most horror and grief.
The father next, the only possible threat, then the grandparents, the siblings, oldest to youngest, the mother, and finally… his chosen one, primed and ready, having lost everything that mattered to her.
Drusilla had fled to a convent, but he’d reached her even there. Stalking was an art form and he was a master. He’d driven her mad, sent her scurrying to the church for sanctuary, and he’d been patient, waiting for the perfect moment.
She was his greatest triumph, his masterpiece, so he’d made her like him.
The End