Drusilla wanted to lay him in her bed, on satin sheets surrounded by yellow roses, with the moonlight dancing through the casement to bathe his slight young beauty in an ethereal balm. Angelus took the body down a back alley and dumped it by the river. Some things just had to be done properly.
They attended the funeral, as interested parties, and watched at a distance from their thickly curtained carriage. It was quite a large gathering from what they could see: many, many relatives and business associates of the family, surrounded by a swarm of funeral attendants. The last doubtless trying to justify the enormous expense of the elaborate hearse with fancy finials and feathers, drawn by four black stallions suitably attired with nodding plumes, two coaches and four, numerous mutes, wandsmen, featherman and all the other adornments that delight an undertakers heart. Very few friends. And they discovered his name, when someone who said he was an uncle came over to thank them for attending. Angelus made polite but particular enquiries about all the other mourners, justifying their own behaviour by explaining that his wife and sister had felt too upset to leave the carriage. ‘Naturally,’ the uncle agreed. ‘It was extraordinarily courageous of the ladies to have attended at all: William would have been very grateful.’
William.
Darla snorted loudly into her handkerchief, which the man must have taken for emotional exhaustion because he made civil excuses and went away.
That night, after three days and nights of death, William rose.
Some may rise after a few hours, but a vampire that is to be truly strong, one with the potential to be a future master, sleeps long whilst the demon takes its hold and grows powerful within the body. And when they awake it is as a mighty thunder rolling across the skies.
Angelus had insisted the women stay at home. If William turned out to be a mistake then he could always quietly stake him and claim the turning hadn’t worked. And if he was worth keeping he wanted to be the first member of his new family that the fledgling met. He had come without the carriage as well, since the walk home would give them a good chance to get to know each other and to lay out a few basic rules.
The churchyard was peaceful, the roar of bustling life in the all surrounding city muted to a distant hum. The air was crisp with the last chill of departing winter as it turned on the cusp of the year into spring, leaving a slight pool of mist in the night and the sharp edge of anticipation; of fresh beginnings. Angelus leant back against a tombstone and waited for the first sounds of the new childe beginning to tear his way out into the world. Soon strong young fingers would follow instinct to break free from the wooden shell. Soon.
William opened his eyes, thought, dark? And moved to settle over onto his side; abruptly his shoulder was painfully bashed. There was something immediately above him, far too close. Shocked into full wakefulness he tried to sit up properly in the pitch black and was startled to find his face crushed against cold, slippery satin. His wildly thrown out arms were penned in on every side by an unseen block that was mere inches away. He couldn’t even curl his knees up without something preventing him. He began to flail out in frenzied panic. Everywhere he was enclosed by pulpy, padded cloth, with hardness behind it.
Oh no. Please no. God no. Not that. Not that. No!