Chapter 1: New Name

Season Premiere

1682: Hungary

Gypsies play music, their instruments known where the violin and a guitar. They were playing mournfully.

A young gypsy woman’s feet hit the ground dancing mournfully to the sound. Her bracelets and leg bracelets making musical noise as they went down against each other. Her long, dark wavy hair bounced around, softly with the sound.

The gypsy man with the violin stood against a wall of the city street. Vladimir, his long dark hair down around his face, pulling the bow, matching her feet. More she matched his bow. His twin brother sat on a crate by his family.

Vladim, he looked like his brother. Identical twins. He was the same age, 27. Wore his hair back as he played his guitar.

People of the town would toss money to them, every now and again. It’s a high risk to put forth when you make music on the streets, dance with it. When you’re a gypsy.

This is where the richer of the families lived. The gypsies, though nomadic, could be considered rich in life themselves, lived outside of town. Don’t tell the Lord of the town Drake though.

A young woman, not even of age went to put a coin in the large old hat they had sitting in front of the female of the gypsies. Her mother pulled her hand out and blocked her daughter, pulled her child’s hand back in.

Spoke in Hungarian: “Don’t,” she clung to her husband, “They’re gypsies.”

The gypsies stopped. Stepping forward to stand next to the female gypsy. She picked up the hat with few coins in it but coins. Vladim whispered into the female’s ear, Romani language, “We shouldn’t have come here.”

“Shhh…”she hissed quietly.

The young woman put her coin back in her purse not dropping it towards the hat, or towards the ground where the hat had been. She smiled at Vladimir, looked to her mother and giggled in Hungarian: “Or will they put a curse on us?”

The gypsies stood there, looking at them. Their faces mysterious, glances mysterious. The young woman and her family laughed amongst themselves and went away.

“We should leave,” Vladim spoke quickly.

Vladimir looked to the authorities coming towards them, “Quickly,” he spoke.

Whatever they spoke of their language it sounded interesting. Their voices slightly mysterious. Stuff that sounded like it started with a w, b, sounded like it started with a v.

The gypsy girl took a bow, spoke in Hungarian: “We mean no harm, sir.”

Vladim grabbed her arm and pulled her back speaking Romani in her ear, “Don’t.”

The authorities went towards them. “We leave!” hissed Vladim in Hungarian towards the armed men pushing back the woman one.

Families were interacting, doing daily things, doing the things that they did in the night. Fires were lit for cooking, warmth and sight, sometimes celebration. The camp was buzzing in the night.

One of the women left their fire and went inside her tent. She wasn’t very young but, she was very pretty. She was middle aged like her husband. She went inside of the tent to see her husband. He was sitting inside carving on a piece of wood.

“Have you seen them?” she questioned in Romani.

He looked up, “In town again I could say.”

“Why would they do this?” she questioned, “They don’t like us there.”

“Because they’re children,” he replied.

“But-”

“Your sons are as especially as wild as their father, that-”

“We don’t need to speak of him,” she said quickly.

“That’s why they go there, with our daughter,” stated the man going back to his carving, “They’ve brightened her eyes to the world.”

“Do you not care?” questioned the woman.

“I care all the time, we don’t stop them,” he explained just looking to the wood shavings on the ground, “The town will no doubt be the ones to show them. Smite them-”

His wife went to him, “No. I don‘t want it.”

“I don’t want it,” he replied looking up towards her as she knelt down next to him.

Outside the tent Vladimir, Vladim and the young woman were coming back. Vladimir decided he was going to go back to the tent while his siblings frolicked around fires with other family members.

His mother continued talking to her husband, “Why do you always bring up that man?”

Her husband looked at her sadly, “They are good men, nothing like their father.”

“Vladim and Vladimir are not wild. Their father wasn’t wild, just simple of mind,” she stated.

“Why do you not expect me to hate that man, I have raised those boys as my own,” exclaimed her husband. “I only wish they were mines, do you not see?”

“I see. I just wondered why you become angry,” she replied.

He looked down, “I’m not angry. I’m am not angry with that lord of the towns or his sons. I love his sons like my own.”

“Mother?” asked Vladimir standing at the entrance to the tent.

She turned towards him quickly, “Vladimir.”

By the look of the face that Vladimir had, he must have heard. He seemed confused, at that moment he couldn’t think right. “What’s wrong son?” questioned her husband.

Vladimir looked from his ‘father’ to his mother, “What is this?”

“Nothing,” stated his mother, she wanted to change the subject, “I have food.”

“No food, what were you talking of?” demanded Vladimir.

“It is nothing,” explained his mother.

He looked to his ‘father’. Wondered if he had heard right, looked at him thought about things. Thought about his family, after a long moment he spoke: “You are not my father?”

His ‘father’ looked down towards the ground, he put down his tools, “He is,” stated his mother wishing that was true, wishing her son wasn‘t on the verge of changing his life.

“Lie,” said Vladimir, “Who did you say!!!?” His mother, almost in tears just looked at him. She knew that her son could recognize her mistakes. “WHO DID YOU SAY!!!?”

Vladim had heard the yelling and went into the tent, his sister following in with him, “What is going on?”

His sister spoke, “Ooh, are we yelling now?”

“No,” sighed her father.

Vladimir was getting angry. He wanted an answer, “Who is our father?!”

“What are you talking about?” questioned Vladim.

“Son, your father is the Lord Drake,” stated the mother’s husband.

“WHAT?!” demanded Vladimir, “Him?”

“What do you mean?” questioned Vladim stepping forward, “Our father, that’s-”

“Not I.”

“Stop this,” demanded the mother, “We are a family.”

“You lied,” his Vladimir, “You lied, the Lord Drake. The cause of our troubles. That heathen fool!! He is our father, you lied, you didn’t say!!? Why?!! What made you like this!!?”

“Stop yelling at her,” demanded his ‘father’, he took his wife’s hand.

She pulled away, “I was ashamed. It was a mistake, I thought it was love.” She was trying to explain herself.

The sister was just in the background watching the ‘battle.’ “You lied all this time!!!?” stated Vladimir, “How could you?!!!”

“Calm down son,” stated her husband, “We don’t need this battle.”

“You encouraged the lie, the lie. The lie of that hated man and my mother, you encouraged it!!!!?” he demanded. He knew that he did, didn’t need to ask.

Vladim stood there looking down at the wood shavings. His twin brother ranting, his sister comforted him by putting her hand on his arm.

“It was your mother’s wish, I loved her, I didn’t care about your father. I loved you like my own,” exclaimed the man.

“He’s a devilish man,” hissed his mother, “Drake-”

“That’s why,” said Vladimir, aching, feeling his feelings rise with the anger that was there. He couldn’t help the situation.

Vladimir left the tent quickly.

The night grew on. Vladimir sat outside the camp away from the fires. Fuming, figuring things out. He didn’t know how his father would feel, it didn’t matter at that moment to him. Finding out a lie like that never made one happy, well unless they hated their ‘father’ . But that wasn’t the situation.

Vladim stepped out of the forest seeing his brother. He was feeling his own quiet trauma. Vladimir turned towards him, saw himself and turned back towards the darkness. Vladim went to him.

He spoke: “Don’t be angry with mother.”

“I am not angry with her,” hissed Vladimir sitting against the tree, on the ground.

“Then what was that?”

“I am angry with our father, the lord Drake,” hissed Vladimir.

“Why?”

Vladimir folded his arms, “He’s a heathen. He’s wronged the camp, he’s wronged us. He-”

“He doesn’t matter,” explained Vladim.

“He does. He does now,” Vladimir stood up, “He’s mattered since he’s hated our clan. The Lord Drake kills us, wronged. It should stop.”

“What do you mean, what are you going to do?” questioned Vladim.

“It doesn’t matter to you,” stated Vladimir, “Go back to the camp or do not.”

“He’s my father too!” spat Vladim, “I say we leave him be. You’ll be killing yourself. I know what your thinking.”

Vladimir walked towards the forest, walking towards the town, “Doesn’t matter,” he growled.

The Lord Drake lived in a castle. It was out in a beautiful field away from town. It was large. It was decorated with the finer things on the inside. Thick Velvet drapes, beautiful paintings, the finest furniture, the finest rugs.

The servants were in their beds sleeping, nothing to stop him. The guards, no problem. Vladimir was quick, he was smart, just had to keep his mind on his own goals.

Vladimir went inside through one of the windows. The place was well lit by candles, making everything illuminated. He was at awe with the beauty, always liked it himself. He shoved the surroundings out of his mind.

Slowly he walked the castle. It was all quiet. No doubt the Lord Drake was busy, sleeping. Nothing to stop Vladimir from doing whatever he wanted.

Did he want to talk with him. Did he want to kill him, watch him. Find out some way to destroy his life. Vladimir let this all go through his mind as he went through the corridors slowly.

The candles kind of hurt his eyes, but they set the scene. Things flashed in his mind about what had happened. His whole life, changed, revealed. Everything felt different. His trust, didn’t know where it was, but everything was different.

In a rage of anger Vladimir grabbed one of the candle holders and threw down the candles on the drapes. The things started going up in flames quickly. Vladimir ripped a painting from the wall and threw it on the ground, it fell in the fire.

Vladimir kicked down another of the stands of candles. Vladimir ran forward and grabbed another candle holder and started catching more stuff on fire roaring, throwing stuff. He went into the dinning room and started throwing the chairs at the windows, braking vases, lighting things on fire.

He ran down into the wine cellar. Shelves and shelves of the stuff. It was dark. He grabbed one of the bottles and started pouring it around.

Something moved behind him. Vladimir turned quickly. Something was down there. The wine poured out and he was going to get another bottle. The place was quiet, he’d have to leave before the fires got to him.

There had been something there. “Hello?” he spoke softly, nothing replied. He waited for a moment looking around at the corners of the room.

Suddenly something snatched him by the shoulders up from behind and slammed him into one of the wine shelves inhumanly fast. The shelf crashed down, hitting another, the wine bottles fell and smashed against the stone of the floor.

Vladimir caught a quick glimpse of the thing. It’s face was deformed, like nothing he’d ever seen. He picked up Vladimir and threw him up the stairs and out of the cellar. It went at Vladimir quickly.

Vladimir got up quickly breathing hard, scared for his life. Wine on him. He grabbed the candle holder. He didn’t know if he’d catch fire. He slammed it into the beast’s face as it came at him again. The man like beast roared in pain pulling away.

His heart beat fast, Vladimir hit him across the face and the demon fell down the stairs. He tossed the candle holder with it’s holdings into the cellar. He could hear the beast yelling in pain as it caught fire. The whole cellar did so.

Another one hit Vladimir over the head with a glass vase. It was a female. Vladimir hit the ground coughing. The beast grabbed him by the shirt and was going to bite him in the throat.

He kicked her in the chest and was dropped she went to get him again. He grabbed some of the glass and threw it into her face. She went back hissing. Cuts on her face.

The fires were getting wild. She went back at him. Vladimir stood up and took off running, his body in pain from being thrown. She went at him quickly.

Vladimir quickly pulled the drapes down at the window he stood in front of onto the demon and pushed the thing at the fire in it‘s confusion. His breathing was rushed, his heart was throbbing against his head. Sweat was going down his face, and he smelled like wine, it was kind of sticky.

He watched the thing in the fire, like the other one. He watched her scream and flail in pain. She was trying to put herself out but it wasn’t working. Scared for his life Vladimir leapt out of the window the drapes were from. It wasn’t that far down.

Those things in that castle. They were evil most definitely. Nothing like anything Vladimir had ever seen before. Demons.

Present: Night: This is from the view of a camera you can buy, use at home.

It’s night a young woman was running from something. She’s running through the streets, running down the alley in Los Angeles. She’s afraid for her life. Her heart is beating hard in her ears. The vampire behind her is catching up.

REBECCA:

her voice was pleasant

Are you the Helpless? Do you need to be saved.

The vampire runs up behind the woman.

No I’m not trying to save your soul in a religious manner.

Angel is running quickly after the vampire.

Unless you need it bad enough.

The vamp grabbed a hold of the woman by the shoulders slamming her up against the brick alley wall. She screamed. He was going to bite her.

Evil Warlock trying to take your soul?

The vamp turns towards Angel suddenly.

VAMP:

What do you want?

ANGEL:

Oh, Nothing you can’t pay for.

WOMAN:

Help me, please.

The vamp pulls away from the woman. Angel quickly kicked him across the face then head butted him. The demon fell back. Angel pulled out his stake and went for it. The demon caught his arm. Angel then shot another stake from his left coat sleeve and dusted the beast.

Cut to: Across the street from the Hyperion. The camera goes slowly towards the Hyperion, very slowly. It‘s more of a zoom in motion.

REBECCA:

At Angel investigations, we help the Helpless in any paranormal need.

Cut to: The outside of a house. The glass from the windows blew out and inside everything is glowing. There’s a mean wind surging throughout the area. zoom to the door. Spike, Wesley, Angel and Emma run out of there and the door falls off behind them. They go up against the wall. They need a plan thing is going on.

WESLEY:

says to himself,

Good lord.

REBECCA:

they don’t acknowledge her,

These aren’t your grandma’s ghost busters.

The ghost buster theme song starts playing in the back ground. Emma looks over to her dad as Angel starts talking.

ANGEL:

in an annoyed manner, he looks to Spike,

I told you not to talk to the ghost! YOU don’t yell, you don’t even whisper to it that it’s a ‘big ghosty that needs to get it’s BEEP out of town.’ You get me!!? That tends to BEEP them off!

he rolled his head on the wall in a stressful manner,

And don’t say it to possession cases! It tends to BEEP them off!!!

SPIKE:

he pointed at Angel,

That was a slayer, and she was just nuts-

Cut to: Across the street from the Hyperion again. The camera is being walked across the streets. The street with cars.

REBECCA:

Here at Angel Inc-

There’s car horns honking. The camera swerves down to look at the ground from the hotel and then to the front of a car that’s right next to her,

YEAH, Honk why don’t you!!! WELL,

the camera swerves a little bit back to the hotel then looks down to the sidewalk people walking by,

BEEP you too!!!! How rude.

The camera swerves back to the hotel,

I BET YOU DON’T TOUCH YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT HAND!!!

She went back to the filming, she just ignored that gesture and kept going, no more cars to bother. Or honking.

Cut to: The Lobby. Camera comes in. Angel is standing outside of his office looking at the newspaper. Spike is leaning against the counter on the desk side having a beer. Emma is sitting on the counter almost leaning against Spike’s back. Wesley is across the room carrying some books standing next to Lorne.

REBECCA:

Here at Angel Inc.

Emma taps Spike on the shoulder noticing the camera, Spike gets down behind the bar. Angel walks into his office with the newspaper closing the door behind him after seeing the camera. Wesley went down next to the teal circular chair in the middle of the room, he grabbed Lorne. Emma had already dodged down behind the counter with Spike,

- there’s always someone willing to help.

Cut to: Angel’s office. Angel sat behind the desk, put a file folder down neatly, kind of like he was nervous. Then just looked back to the camera, hands folded.

REBECCA:

Angel, tell the viewers what you guys do here at Angel Investigations.

ANGEL:

he looked at her for a moment then spoke,

Um…We help the helpless……Unless you’re evil…then we…won’t help you at all.

REBECCA:

Say you’re the dark avenger or something.

Cut to: The Lobby. Lorne is standing next to that teal thing looking at the camera and Emma is sitting on the counter with a sketchbook drawing.

REBECCA:

No Lorne, I’m sorry but you can’t be on this tape unless we’re slaying you.

LORNE:
Come on Sweet pea. Let Lorne give the audience a sweet piece of tunes-

REBECCA:

Sorry Lorne. You can’t be seen on the tape unless you’re being slain.

EMMA:
bluntly,

I’ll do it.

Cut to: A diner. There’s a zombie terrorizing the place. More than one. The camera is on Wesley, The zombie grabs Wesley by the shoulders.

REBECCA:

Zombie troubles?

Wesley pushed the thing back then slice it’s head off.

Cut to: A fancy ball room. People are eating there’s a young woman tied to an alter and the head of the party is a man. The doors are thrown open, Angel and gang come in, the camera is following up behind them. The group is armed.

Everyone looks to them. Spike goes up to one of the butlers and for the hell of it just pushes the wine tray into his face. The butlers start pulling out their samurai swords. The girl is screaming and crying on the alter as the older man dips his fists into a bowl of blood.

REBECCA:

The guest are running around quickly trying to leave,

Someone or something getting sacrificed by the occult.

Emma shot the older man in the crotch with the cross bow,

Heck, it doesn’t even have to be a cult.

Camera scanned the room, Wesley was sword fighting with two of the butlers. Angel stabbed one in the chest then kicked him off his sword. Spike decapitated another with a medal plate.

Cut to: Lobby, behind the counter, Emma is standing with Wesley and Angel and a young girl looking at the camera.

REBECCA:

Emma turned the child around for the camera to reveal that that child has a big problem,

You or someone you know have a third eye, or more?

Cut to: The group is standing in the main room of a theatre. They’re covered in green slime looking around, shaking the goop off their weapons.

REBECCA:
Everyone slowly turned towards her with an annoyed expression on their face,

Whatever the problem. Angel Investigations is willing to get dirty for you.

END

It was day out sunny. The Park was beautiful that day. A small wind, sun shining. A blue car drove up, sunlight shinning on the hood. It parked next to the sidewalk, the engine was turned off. Out of the passenger seat came Cordelia. She took off her large sunglasses.

Her hair was long flowing with highlights, she was very pretty. Out of the drivers side Angel opened his door and stood out. No smoke, no bacon sent. He stood in the sun, the warmth on his skin.

Angel looked up feeling the warmth of the sun on his face ever more, loving it. Out of the back came a 6yr. Old boy. Angel looked at him.

The boy had brown hair, blue eyes. Conner as a child. Angel got out the picnic basket and Conner ran over to a place under the shady trees.

“Here,” said Conner.

Angel looked at him for a long moment seeing a flash of the adult Conner standing there different clothes, hands in his pockets.

“Come on,” said Cordelia nudging his arm, holding the blanket.

They walked forward. Angel sat down the basket. Cordelia laid out the blanket and Angel helped her finalize it. Smooth it out. Angel smiled at her.

Cordelia smiled back. They laid the blanket out and sat on it bringing over the picnic basket. Conner looked up at Angel. They all sat down on the blanket.

Angel watched Cordy grab the stuff out of the basket, passing it around. “Can we go fishing later dad?” asked Conner looking down at the turkey sandwiches.

He didn’t answer his son for a long moment, he saw the sandwiches. Flashed in his mind of Emma and Spike, Spike leaning against the desk behind the counter innocently, Emma turning towards him with a turkey sandwich in hand. He closed his eyes hard then looked at Conner.

“Sure, we’ll see about that,” smiled Angel.

“I thought we had a date,” laughed Cordy sitting a cup down on the blanket.

“Don’t worry,” smirked Angel, “I can never forget our plans.”

Cordelia grabbed out a sandwich for Conner, “No tomatoes for you,” she smiled, of course it was just a turkey sandwich, “Picky, just like your dad.”

Conner laughed. “Thanks Mom,” said Conner taking the sandwich and taking it out of the plastic wrap.

Angel looked down at Conner, then he looked back at Cordelia. “You’re Welcome,” she said.

Angel leaned in and kissed her quickly on the cheek. Smiling some more. He felt warm. If this counted as perfect happiness to the gypsies, he would be Angelus in this sequence.

“Here’s yours Honey,” she said handing him something.

Angel looked down at the food, blood.

Suddenly Angel’s eyes opened up quickly. He saw the ceiling of his room, the ceiling of his bedroom. The way it always was. Slowly Angel blinked.

No one was there telling him anything. Conner wasn’t around. It all hit him. Angel looked to where the clock sat, it was 11AM. He sat up slowly.

October 1, 2006: Day: A little bit later after 11AM:

Angel stepped out of his room. Wesley was walking down the hall with a book in hand.

“Good Morning,” said Wes.

“Hey,” said Angel, “Have you seen Rebecca or anything?”

“I’ll be seeing her tonight,” said Wesley walking with him.

“Wes, I don’t know how you should go about it. But you need to talk with Rebecca about this commercial business.”

They went down the stairs into the lobby, “I can tell.”

“You need to explain to her that we’re not the kind of, people that should be, on T.V.,” explained Angel. “We wouldn’t want any body with authority in L.A., knowing that we’re, just, housing a bunch of convicts.”

“It’s always been one of the Watchers Council’s jobs to make sure that the mortal world doesn’t acknowledge the doings of the demonic one,” sighed Wesley.

“So you understand?” questioned Angel.

“Completely.”

The lobby had a bunch of stuff in it for construction, deconstruction. Spike had beaten out a wall behind one of the book shelves. The book shelf no longer there. Angel was angered by these procedures.

Wesley looked to the situation, mostly cared about his books. Angel looked at Spike. Emma was around, in there.

“I should, stake you. Or something,” said Angel, “You tore the things, out of my hotel.”

“Yeah, I know,” said Spike in a taunting manner, pushing up his long sleeves, Like the shirt in season 4 of Buffy when he was digging into the crypt for the ring of Amara. “I can see that I’ve tore the things out of the hotel. Maybe you should be getting your eyes check if that hasn’t hit you by now,” he stepped around the area, “Old age could be hitting you hard mate.”

Emma came out of the place to measure and cut some more drywall sheets with a utility knife.

Angel watched her go over to the pile of drywall then he looked back to Spike, “You’d probably just, come back or something to spite me,” he groaned going over to the counter to get the newspaper.

Spike grabbed a beer out of the frig, he put the beer up like he was doing a toast, or to say ‘Cheers’, “Bingo.” Spike sat down in the chair behind the desk.

Wesley stepped away from Emma because she was very quick and effective at cutting with that utility knife. He went over to the box on the floor, “Thank you for boxing up my stuff so well Spike,” he stood up with it, “You make me slightly feel like I’ve been fired.”

“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” stated Spike.

“Remind me Angel who does the firing around here?” answered Wesley putting his box on the teal chair in the middle of the lobby.

“Me,” said Angel looking at the front of the newspaper.

Emma put down some of the pieces of drywall that she had just measured and cut and went over behind the counter and got a bottle of water out of the frig. She sat on the counter crossing her legs, while the gang talked.

The group hadn’t changed much. Wesley was back into the shaving thing, hair cut nicely, like usual. Angel looked like his youthful self, still wore black. Spike, still platinum blonde wore black thing going on. Emma, quieter, hardly, hardly talked at all, hair longer but she was the usual.

“Come to think of it, I think I should get paid,” said Spike.

“No,” said Angel walking with the newspaper over to the red couch in the waiting area, “You live here, you’re doing what you want.”

“Yeah, like that’s bleeding pay enough.” Angel didn’t reply to Spike so he kept talking: “You know what you need Angel?” stated Spike.

“I don’t care what you think I need-”

“You need a reality check,” stated Spike, he took a drink of his beer.

“My reality is just fine,” said Angel opening up the newspaper all the way.

“I suddenly feel gitty,” spoke Wesley inquiring that he was getting paid and Spike wasn’t, and that that made him very happy.

Spike gave him a dirty look taking another drink of his beer, he didn’t drink the beer, looked at it, then towards Angel, “Just like you mate, always thinking you’ve got the controls.”

“Cause I do,” said Angel, “You don’t like that leave.”

Emma looked down at her water bottle, “Getting hot in here.” Spike looked over to her, kept quiet.

“A client should be coming in anytime,” said Wesley, “Then it’ll cool down a bit.”

“Getting clients. People usually have to die,” sighed Emma still looking down at the water bottle.

Night flowed onto the scene. The loading dock was quiet. Very quiet. Boxes all over in their housing. Packages from all over the world.

There was a man in a suit checking off the boxes, watching guard. He was whistling. Walking down the small isles with his clip board counting in his head.

He stopped next to one of the boxes. A long box that could fit a person in it. “Hmmm….” he looked at the box, then for a long moment he looked at the clip board. Checked his clip board, went down the list, “This isn’t on here,” he sighed tapping his pen on the paper.

The man put down his clip board on the box then went over to a wall and pulled a crow bar off the set up. He went towards the box. Have to open it up to see what’s inside. It was probably just filled with something breakable, packing material inside.

Suddenly his clipboard and pen hit the ground. He stopped, it was dark he couldn’t see that well. He heard something be ripped open, then the sound of dirt falling on the floor came.

He looked at the box, it was open, dirt everywhere, the top of it on the ground. The man looked around him, he spoke softly, looking: “Yo.” Nothing answered, no one, nothing, just quiet all around him. Quiet and dark…

Suddenly the crowbar was pushed from the man’s hand by one’s white hand. By a man taller than him. He turned around quickly. The very pale man’s right arm wrapped around the suited one. The package put it’s head to the man’s throat.

The original man yelled in pain as the piercing teeth of the vampire went deep into his throat. The man went rigid the vampire holding fast to him. Hungry thing. After a moment the man’s cold dead body was dropped to the floor.

The killer, the vampire moved forward, his boots making an echoing sound on the concrete floor. Dirt fell from his clothes as he left the holding facility.

Angel Investigations got itself a customer around 3 o’clock PM. A man came in, young. He looked like a trouble maker though, not a man of business.

Billy was sat down in Angel’s office. That was his name, Billy. Angel and Wesley ready to address his paranormal needs.

“Tell us what happened,” said Angel, protocol. Any good way to start a conversation.

Comfortable in the chair in front of Angel’s desk. Angel behind the desk, Wesley sitting on the side ready to listen. Billy began: “I get a call from one of my boys. Turns out three of my other boys got hit. Guess who else calls?”

“Cops,” stated Angel.

“Exactly my smart friend,” answered Billy. He went on, “I know about you guys being into the supernatural seems I need supernatural help.” But of course Billy got what he’d expected, a look. “What?” questioned the young boss.

“We’d actually like to help you-” started Wesley but he was interrupted by Angel.

“You’re a Dark Arts dealer,” Angel said in all frankness.

“So,” replied Billy.

“You’re evil,” assured Angel.

“No, no, no,” Billy put his hands up, shook them in correction, “You got me all wrong man, I’m a neutral kind of fella. I fight good and evil.”

“Not quite what we want to hear,” stated Angel.

“Tell us more,” said Wesley caring more about some people being dead.

Billy swallowed, then continued, “So I go in, get a load of my storage facility. Get this, dirt all over the floor and one box is torn open. One we didn’t have on listing. Bad part is cops tell me it was a dog that attacked my boys. So I took a look at my previously employed. Something tore their throats all kinds of up.”

“Really?” questioned Wesley. He said it in a hmm… way.

“Thought it was a werewolf but I don’t ever see a werewolf on a not so full moon kind of night,” Billy assured, “But I looked deeper into it.”

“You found something out?” asked Angel.

“Sure, turns out one of our private customers by the name of Drake Lucas order up a bit of somethin’, somethin’. Don’t know what, he wanted to keep the package off the list though because of the cops. Everyone does these days,” exclaimed Billy.

“So you screwed yourself over,” assured Angel.

“No my bosses boss who does the thing with the, not putting names on the list, he screwed me over. But I’m also just saying look at this Drake Lucas. I don’t need an angry customer, he finds out that his little package ran off and killed a couple of people-” said Billy.

“We’ll check into the morgue,” said Wesley, “The bodies are there?”

“Hell they’re in the morgue, I’ve got them at that crime scene waiting for you,” answered Billy, he grabbed his flannel shirt and held it like he was proud, “I’ve got connections. No one’s touching that crime scene till I say the magic word.”

Wesley and Angel look at each other. Angel spoke: “Fine, we’ll check it out tonight.”

“I could get Emma and-”

Angel looked to Wesley, “Tonight.”

Billy waved his hand in front of his face in a stinky way, “It’s your funeral.”

Episode You’re Welcome

Angel’s office: It was night

Cordelia walked into Angel's office as he put on his blazer. She walked up to Angel, “So…You feel good?”

“I do. I just, I kind of feel bad about it,” he answered.

Cordelia spoke: “My God, you are a piece of work.”

“I just don’t feel like I deserve,” he shrugged, “I mean, all I did was beat up a tiny Texan. It’s not like I helped anyone.”

Angel sat on the arm of one of the chairs near his desk. “Sure you did,” she said.

“Who?” questioned Angel.

“Boy, I really do fall for the dumb ones. You know how you’re always trying to save, oh, every single person in the world? Did it ever occur to you, you were one of them?

“No, It never did,” said Angel.

“Well, you made the list, gorgeous. And you needed some help.”

“And you were the one that helped me,” said Angel.

Cordy sat beside Angel, “And I did my part.”

“Lindsey wasted a lot of energy trying to make me doubt myself. I know it’s not even close to over, but I do feel like I can do this. Wolfram & Hart, whatever’s coming, I feel like we can beat it,” Angel seemed a bit more courageous a lot less pensive.

“I know.”

Angel had to ask, “You do?”

“I always did. I... I just needed you to know it, too.”

“So all that stuff about the deals with the devil…” he replied.

Cordelia nodded, “Was Gods honest truth,” she looked at Angel, “But you’re bigger than that. You’ll win this in the end.” She stood up, “I, uh…just wish I could be there to see it.”

“What do you mean? You’re not-”

She turned to face Angel, “I can’t stay. This isn’t me anymore. You can say good bye to the gang for me, explain everything once you understand.

“That’s gonna be never,” he answered walking towards her, “I need you here.”

Cordy had tears in her eyes, the sadness. She knew what he felt, “Don’t make it hard, Angel. I’m just on a different road…and this is my off ramp. The Powers that Be owed me one, and I didn’t waste it. I got my guy back on track.

“Cordy, there’s just-”

She touched his face, “We take what we can get, champ, and we do our best with it.” She smiled through her tears standing there with him, “I’ll be seeing you.” She turned to walk out of the office.

Then she stopped and turned around and walked to Angel quickly, “Oh, what the hell. One for the road?”

Angel and Cordelia kissed. Rising feelings between them. The telephone wanted to separate them. They pulled away sometime during that part, “You know, um…I don’t…I don’t need to get that.”

She tenderly straightened his tie, “That you have to get.” Angel walked over to the phone, she still spoke, “Oh…and you’re welcome.”

Angel got the phone.

He woke suddenly from dozing off. Not that he was sleepy, but in a way he was sleepy. Sleepy usually means bad things around these parts.

Wesley came in, opened up the door. Didn’t knock, “Sorry to disturb you-”

Angel looked forward wide eyed, “I do. I just, I kind of feel bad about it,” he quoted himself still in a sort of sleepy daze.

“What?” asked Wesley looking at him, he was almost done closing the door all the way, “About me being here, I could leave.”

“What?” Angel looked to Wesley, “No…I’m just….I took a nap.”

“I hope it was refreshing,” said Wesley closing the door, thinking he got the A.O.K.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to talk to you about before, Emma,” said Wesley, “I could go with her now.”

“We don’t have to use Emma for everything…you know?” Angel replied sitting up straighter at his desk.

“Not what I’m saying,” answered Wesley going over one of the shelves and putting some books up. “Probably could be a lot farther in this investigation if she and I-”

“I just don’t want to talk about,” explained Angel getting a little annoyed by Emma talk and the situation itself, “Billy’s stupid, so…”

“Billy has nothing to do with…Well, at the moment.”

“She’s quiet she wouldn’t have said anything, done anything,” replied Wesley.

“But she probably would have started asking me for money,” stated Angel.

“Oh.”

“Anything else I don’t want to talk about?” questioned Angel.

“Not really,” said Wesley.

“So is that psychiatrist any good?” questioned Angel.

Wesley thought for a moment, “Well…I don’t go to him anymore.”

“But would you say he’s the kind of guy for me,” Angel looked up at Wesley.

“Not really. What do you mean?”

“Not for a date,” Angel shook his head.

“Of course, I knew that,” replied Wesley, “Would you mind going through a mystical form of trail.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” sighed Angel.

“He’s really good though. Makes you feel your problems. Grasp the problems, or whatever want to call them,” explained Wesley, “You say psychiatrist like I’m crazy.”

“I just wondered. You can…forget I ever asked,” he just shrugged it off. “I’ve just…been sleeping a lot more.”

“Dreams, are they in any…way…Darla-erotic?”

“NO,” said Angel, not in a mean manner.

“Good, last time-”

“Things got bad,” sighed Angel.

“I got fired…Talk about a way to make Spike feel big about himself,” corrected Wes sitting down in the chair in front of Angel’s desk.

“I’ve just been thinking about Cordelia,” said Angel.

“I wouldn’t be the real person to talk about this, or maybe I would be, I don’t know. But it’s just life,” said Wesley, he looked down sadly, “When Fred,” he looked up. “You know…” Angel nodded that he knew, “I was sleeping a lot more….It’s a, depression.”

Angel stood up, “I just need to get used to the idea that I’ll be alone.”

“Don’t live on that thought, I mean, Nina-”

He looked out into the Lobby through that window at the side of his office, “Killed her.”

“Mary-”

“Tried to kill her.”

Wesley stood up, “There’s other Fish in the sea Angel.” Angel looked down, Wesley waited to see if he’d speak. He spoke himself: “ You’re never alone Angel. You’ve always got us. Even if Spike is a pain in the ass. Didn’t get this far without him, you…We’re all like a family…Spike is more or less the relative that….He’s like that Aunt that always sends socks for Christmas and Birthdays. The one that comes to visit that won’t leave. Family.”

“Shame that some of us ever had to leave,” sighed Angel, thinking about Conner.

When night came in, sundown, Angel and Wesley went for the storage facility. The place wasn’t smelling very fresh, “I knew that Billy was an idiot,” said Angel closing the door behind him. “This is just going to make the police ask more questions.”

“We just need to check the scene and we’ll be out of here,” said Wesley, “And if you catch Billy in the act of something bad. I say there’s nothing wrong with you beating the crap out of him then twice over. How about that?”

“Good for me,” said Angel looking around at all the boxes.

They walked for a little moment. Looking through out the place, flash light in Wes’ hand. “Oh, that smell,” was the first thing that hit Wesley.

“You’re telling me,” said Angel looking to Wesley.

Wesley shrugged his shoulders. Then he looked down towards the ground, quickly spotted the bodies. He looked at the things, cold blue things, past the flies in a confused manner. Slightly he wanted to puke, but he just kept the looking at up to par.

“Did I bring a doggy bag?” asked Wes taking a breath, blocking out life itself.

“There isn’t anymore blood in any of the victims,” replied Angel ignoring what Wesley just said, breathing in deeply for the scent of blood, “Whatever it was, it was hungry.”

1682 Hungary

It was night and the forest was dark. Light illuminated off of the camp. No one in there had any idea, any idea at all, they were being watched. The Master stood with his minions.

“We need to eliminate the problem,” he said looking straight forward. He was speaking in English.

Darla stood next to him, “Don’t worry Master, silly people-”

The Master turned around to face his minions, there were 4 men. One of them, his face un-vamped, he looked in great relation to Vladim and Vladimir.

“Drake,” stated The Master, “Our, circumstances are making me very angry. I liked that cellar under your castle.”

“We all did sire,” said Drake, even though he spoke English he was clearly Hungarian.

One of the three other minions folded his arms, “What are we to do?”

The Master smiled, “Massacre.”

Vladimir was laying in one of the tents. Laying on a fir blanket. There was a lamp above him. He didn’t care about the light.

He didn’t care about anything. He brother was probably out there frolicking around didn’t give a care in the world that his world had been turned upside down, around. Anything like that. Of course Vladim didn’t see what Vladimir had.

Something moved. Vladimir heard it loud and clear. He sat up. It was quiet, the moving thing had been in the bushes around his little place. One of the doors of the tent moved faintly.

“Who’s there?” questioned Vladimir in Hungarian.

Nothing moved for a long moment. Then whatever was there came in. Vladimir backed up against the wall of the tent holding his breath it seemed. Drake stood there before him, nothing about him seeming to be vampiric.

Vladimir looked straight at him, wide eyed. Things inside his mind were connecting. He knew who that was. Drake cocked his head to the side as if to a say hello, then he backed out of the tent. His father was gone.

That thing didn’t make another sound. Vladimir didn’t let himself breath, he didn’t know if it was gone. Slowly he stood up, breathing again. He grabbed his knife from a pile of things against the wall next to him. He put it in his boot and hurried out of the tent towards the main part of camp.

Outside the screams were loud people holding their loved ones. Dead loved ones, dressed in their own blood. Vladimir’s ‘father’ was holding to his wife. Teeth holes in her throat, blood down her dress, her lips white.

Tears going down his face. Sweat, he looked up at the person that wore the boots who stood in front of him. The Master stood there. The master, the killer.

He threw his fist at the Master. The Master blocked his hand as he threw another punch. He caught the mortal’s fist and broke his fingers with ease. The ’Father’ tried to pull his hand from the vampire.

The Master just held on tight and put his hand up under his victim’s throat, pulling him up off his feet, off the ground. Master smiled widely and just let his fingers break that poor soul’s neck. He dropped the body and brushed off his hand like it was dirty work, then walk forward.

The other minions were starting fires. Fighting with the humans. Eating the humans. Blood on their faces, on the ground. Screams, lots of screams.

An older man was in his tent praying. He stood up and grabbed his lamp from the hanging in his tent. He walked out and threw it on one of the vamps. The vamp went up in flames flailing around and the young woman he had took off running and screaming yelling in Romani, “Mama, Mama!!”

Vladimir saw it all before him. Vladim ran up to him, spoke quickly in Romani grabbing him by the shoulders, “Mother, she’s dead, with father! Brother, we must take our sister and leave.”

“No,” hissed Vladimir pushing his brother off of him and going forward.

He stopped dead still in the midst of the fires, the battles. It seemed those things were everywhere. Put there were less then ten. People massacred.

“COME ON BROTHER!!” said Vladim his sister running to him.

Vladimir saw the face of Drake vamp out as he bit into one of the women in the camp‘s neck. “BROTHER!!” called Vladim again.

He ignored his brother’s calls and went forward. Drake pulled away from the woman feeling the ecstasy that blood made a vampire feel, dropping the body. Vladimir quickly punched him in the face.

Drake hadn’t suspected it, he looked a him for a long moment laying on ground. Quickly he flipped back up onto his feet and kicked Vladimir in the face. He stood there thrilled by the scene, “Son,” he said in Hungarian.

Vladimir stood up and went to punch him again. Drake knocked his fist away from his head and jabbed his hand towards his chest. Vladimir flew back moving the dirt of the ground. He got up shell shocked.

“What are you?” he questioned in Hungarian, then he yelled in English, “WHAT ARE YOU!!!?”

Drake just laughed. Vladimir stood up. Sweat on his face. It was hot, the fires were starting to overrun the camp.

The Father, thought he should play the little game. Suddenly he stood in front of Vladimir. He punched Vladimir in the face. Vladimir fell back into some baskets next to one of the tents. Drake bowed, taunting him.

Just got back up. he couldn’t fight this thing could he? Vladimir went at him. Drake’s fist flew by his head as he ducked the blow. He kneed Drake in his the chest then punched him across the face. He pushed towards the fires, Drake blocked his arms, Vladimir fell back a little bit.

Drake suddenly jumped up and kicked him across the face then landed and spun around doing the same thing again. Vladimir flew into one of the tents. He spat up blood from the blow his vision was blurry, things were moving around.

Slowly, Drake walked towards his son licking his lips. Had no care if they were related. He just walked towards him in the party of things.

He grabbed Vladimir by the shirt and pulled up off the ground he was going to bite him. Vladimir had that not breathing feeling going on again. Drake went towards his throat. Vladimir grabbed the lamp on one of the tents that was left up and threw it on him.

Drake pulled away hissing in pain dropping Vladimir. Vladimir stood up dizzily. Drake started trying to beat himself out but it didn’t work. He was yelling in pain, moved around on the ground like he was having seizures. Vladimir smelled the smell of burning flesh, then it was gone.

The Father had gone into the dusts. Suddenly something hit him over the back of the head, something large. Vladimir fell forward on the ground. Darla stood behind him with a large piece of wood. She smiled, dropped the piece of wood then grabbed him by the legs and pulled him on the ground of the camp.

Darla lead her Master down the small halls in the ground that lead to their new home. The Master had on a blind fold, “Oh, I’m so excited about this, what are you going to show me?”

“It’s a secret Master,” replied Darla leading him into the main room at the very end.

“Give me hints, anything Darla, my child,” he replied. “Is it bigger than a bread box?”

They went into the room. She stood next to him, “You may take off the blindfold.”

The Master slowly lifted his blind fold from his face and looked to the grand thrown chair they had gotten him. But that wasn’t the surprise. The Master sniffed the air, “A living mortal.”

Vladimir sat in the chair still unconscious, “Yes. I would never give you a dead one, even if I was hungry enough to-drink their babies.”

“Drake’s son,” the Master looked to her a bit confused, “Why?”

“He has nowhere to go-”

“He’s a mortal,” stated The Master, “Why have you brought him here? Not for me to eat and surely you don’t care, ‘He has nowhere to go’-”

“I think, he is fit to be a toy,” she said going over to him and petting his head, “Just fit for the curse.”

“How sweet, my fledgling. You ask permission, why you could sire him as you please, it doesn’t matter to me…” he said it in a sweet way, all of it in a sweet way, “Just get the mortal coil out of my damn chair.”

“Of course,” she smiled, she pushed Vladimir out of The Master’s thrown cheerfully.

The Master stepped over the mortal and sat down in the thrown chair. He sat there happily, “Oh, I like this chair. It’s soft, making me feel like the king I am.”

Darla looked over to Vladimir. So did the Master. Vladimir moaned softly, he started to roll over just a little bit. He realized that he was in a weird place. He rolled onto his back. Slowly he opened his eyes.

Vladimir sat up quickly looking around, seeing Darla, seeing the other vampires in the darkness. He pulled back breathing hard. He backed up all the way into a stone wall.

“Hello,” said The Master in Hungarian.

“He speaks a little bit of English Sire,” said Darla.

“Do you?” questioned The Master in English.

Vladimir started spurting off in Hungarian yelling at them. Sitting against the wall like he’d be able to crawl right out the back of the room through the stone. He stopped yelling in the midst of his confusion. Started checking his throat for bites.

“You really hit him hard,” said the Master.

Darla went towards him, just watching him, “Just wanted to make sure I did it right.”

Vladimir looked at her, like he was afraid of her. “What do you want with me?” he questioned in English, spoke it like he wasn’t too good at speaking it.

Darla smiled she went to him, “So brave, the fear.” She lean down towards him and put her hand under his chin bringing him up, he stood up with her.

“Master,” she looked towards The Master, “Give him a new name, give him one that’ll strike fear. One that’ll make everyone remember him.”

The Master smiled, “You rely in me so much.”

“Do it,” she said looking to her Master, her face changed.

Vladimir was on the edge of panic, saw the faces, didn’t know where he was, didn’t know anything. He didn’t know what to do. What about him in this moment was brave?

“Dracula,” stated The Master.

To Be Continued…

I wish I didn’t have to make it a two parter but I just felt better about having it a two parter instead of adding on another, 20 pages. Even though I’ve done that before. This was more of a Welcome Back/Introduction Chapter.