Chapter The First: The Tape
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Buff the Vampire Slayer or The Ring. The genius Joss Whedon owns Buffy, and I think DreamWorks owns The Ring. If not, I haven't the foggiest who it is.
Hope you enjoy the story!
It was eleven o' clock on a Tuesday night, and Drusilla was bored and hungry, which certainly wasn't a good combination for any unfortunate souls who happened to be wondering about at night. Drusilla wanted her breakfast, and she always got what she wanted. Well, most of the time she did.
"I spy with my little eye…" She said, searching the street for any potential victims. And she found him. A teenage boy, across the street, wondering about after dark, just as those idiotic teenagers always did.
She walked over to him, her black floor-length gown trailing behind her, slightly shimmering in the soft moonlight. It was cloudy and the stars were hiding away, but the moon was still out to play. He was staring at her, with curiosity. She smiled at him slightly.
"You shouldn't be out here alone, you know." She said. She leaned in close to him and whispered in his ear. "You could get hurt." In her four inch heeled boots, Drusilla was actually taller than the boy, although she would usually be only a couple of inches smaller anyway.
"Get hurt by who? I think it's more likely someone would come after a helpless girl like you." Dru smiled.
"I'm not helpless." She said. Her face morphed into that of her vampire visage, and she bit down on the boys' neck. His blood flowed into her mouth, like a waterfall of delicious liquid pouring down her throat. She drank until he was drained, and then let his body fall to the floor. She doubted that he'd be missed.
As he fell to the ground, his bag flew open, and its contents spilled out onto the grimy street. Drusilla knelt down to examine them more closely. There were a few school books, and some paper, which looked like homework assignments. There was a brand new Blue-Ray disc of some movie; Dru couldn't be bothered about the title. The only thing in the bag even slightly out of the ordinary was a videotape. It was unmarked; nothing was even written on the side of it to indicate what was on it. It was something that had been recorded or copied, but that was all Dru could tell. As she carefully placed the objects back inside the bag, he hand lingered on the tape. She had a feeling about it. She didn't know what kind of feeling it was, it was just a feeling. It obviously wasn't just any ordinary tape. Why would the boy have a tape anyway? Nobody watched video's anymore. Well, some people did, but probably not many. This boy proved that himself, by owning a Blue-Ray disc. Dru decided she'd take the tape with her. She was sure watching it was the best way to find out what it was.
She arrived home, and inserted the tape into the VCR. For a few seconds, nothing was shown but static, but then a ring of light flickered onto the screen. It quickly changed to the next image: blood in water. There were several other, rather confusing images that followed: a chair, hair being combed, a woman combing her hair in a mirror, and then the mirror moving, to reveal a little girl, with dark hair and a white dress, backing away from it. The woman looked at her, before the mriror moved back to its original place. There was a house shown, with a man looking out of the window. There was a place with a tree, and grass waving in the wind, a fly buzzing across the screen. There was a person, with something being violently pulled out of their mouth. There was black plastic, something inside it moving about violently, and then a tree on fire. A finger being impaled. Maggots, crawling over each other, turning into people crawling around in water. A table, chair and a glass of water, with a huge centipede pushing the chair aside to crawl through. A lame animal limping into a barn. A box of twitching fingers, no longer attatched to hands. The woman in the mirror again, turning around. Dru could swear the woman was looking right at her. A ladder, which then fell to the ground. The woman jumping off the cliff she had seen earlier, with the tree and and grass. And then static as the tape ended.
The phone rang, catching Drusilla slightly off guard. She answered it, already knowing what was going to be said.
"Seven days." And then the line went dead. It was the voice of a little girl. The little girl from the tape, Dru realized. Oh, but what was her name? And she knew. Samara Morgan. She knew everything about her, including the fact that even though she had been treated horribly by both her real mother and her adoptive parents, all Samara wanted was someone who loved her. She picked up the phone again, and dialed for Darla, praying she'd pick up. There was no one there. She growled, and dialed another number. Spike's.
"Hello?" He said, on the other end of the phone.
"You have to help her!" Dru cried. "She's all alone… She doesn't like it… She just wants someone to love her…"
"Drusilla? What is it? Who do I need to help?"
"Her name's Samara. We need to help her! Come and help her!"
"I will." Spike said, and hung up the phone.
Three days later, Spike was staring out of the window of the plane. It was a nighttime flight, although by the time they arrived, it would be dawn. Luckily, it was going to be cloudy today, as it was most days in the town where Drusilla lived. Spike knew because he had checked the weather forecast, something he didn't usually do, as, living in Los Angeles, he could pretty much always count on it to be sunny.
He was unspeakably bored, and as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, he groaned out loud. He tried sleeping countless times, but it was no use. It was just too noisy. Why did he come here? It seemed pointless to him, now that he thought about it. He didn't even know who this Samara was, or why she needed help. Any yet, there was just something inside him, telling him to go to Dru, to help this Samara, whoever she was. But he couldn't quite stop himself from being annoyed. Why had he come here, despite not knowing anything about what Dru wanted him to do? For all he knew, the person she wanted to help could be evil. Not to mention the fact that the last time he'd seen Drusilla, he'd been threatening to kill her to prove his love for the Slayer. Well, just a Slayer now. It was impossible for him to forget that for any more than a moment. Probably due to his hands being chopped off by one.
Finally, he felt to sleep. It was pretty much a miracle that he'd managed to, with all the noise going on around him. He was awoken when the plane started to land. His eyes fluttered open, vaguely like the lens of a camera when it took a picture. Outside the window, it was cloudy and overcast. So, the idiot weather people had got something right for a change, Spike thought with an amused smile. He walked off the plane, with the rest of the people, not sure where to go next. He didn't know exactly where Drusilla lived after all. It could be anywhere in this town.
He felt a hand close around his wrist. It felt warm to him, though to anyone else would have felt quite cool. When he turned around, he was almost dissapointed when he saw Drusilla. He had the sudden urge to go back to L.A.
No, he scolded himself. Don't go back, you help people now. Like Angel. Except nothing like Angel. Dru giggled. Either he had said the last part out loud, Dru had been reading his mind, or she was laughing at something completely different. Any of the three was equally likely.
"Are you coming to help her?" Dru asked.
"I guess so." Spike said. "What does she need help with?" Drusilla just smiled.
"I'll tell you in the car. I need to sit down." She led by the hand to a black car, with what appeared to be necro-tempered glass.
"You get the glass from Wolfram and Hart?" Spike asked.
"Where else?" Dru asked, a little confused. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door. Spike sat beside her in the passenger seat. Then he realised something.
"This is my car!" He said. Dru giggled.
"You just left it! I thought: why leave it there, when it's a perfectly good car?" She said. Neither of them spoke after that, instead just spending a while silently looking out of the window. It was a tense moment, and Spike could tell Dru had left something unspoken.
"Who is she then?" He suddenly asked. "Samara, who is she?" Dru looked at him for a moment, looking into his eyes, seeming to look inside them, into his very spirit. But only for a moment, and then her eyes were back on the road.
"Samara Morgan. She's a vengeful eight year old ghost." Dru said.
"Why's she so vengeful?" Spike asked.
"She was mistreated. Soon after she was born, her mother, Evelyn, tried to drown her in a fountain. Samara was given up for adoption, and Evelyn sent to an asylum. She was adopted by Anna and Richard Morgan, who took her to their home at Moesko Island, of the coast of Seattle. All seemed well at first, but as time passed, and Samara grew, her uncrontrollable psychic powers grew with her. She started to show people things, bad things, but she didn't mean to hurt them. It just happened. Bad things always happened around her." Dru paused for a moment. She stopped the car at a red light, and tapped her long, sharp fingernails on the dashboard as she waited for it to go amber, then green. Spike patiently waited for her to resume the story. That was unlike him. Usually he'd pester someone to get to the point. But never Dru. He was always calm with Dru.
"Eventually, Richard made her live in the barn, with the horses. She had a little room at the top, and was all alone, with nothing for company but the television. She didn't like the barn, the horses kept her awake at night. She knew that her Mummy and Daddy loved the horses more than they loved her, so she killed them. They went crazy and drowned themselves. It was all over the newspapers, and Anna was distraught. Anna and Samara were both sent to Eola County Psychiatric Hospital. While Anna was treated for depression, they kept Samara under twenty-four hour surveillance, trying to figure out how she was causing everything that happened. Richard brought them back home at some point, and the three of them went to Shelter Mountain Inn. But Richard came back alone." There was another red light, and Drusilla used it as an opportunity to turn around, and face Spike. "Anna killed Samra, Spike. She pushed her down the well. She killed Samara, and then she killed herself."
Spike just sat there for a moment, processing what he'd just heard.
"How do you know all this?" He finally asked, even though he didn't really care.
"Some of it, I just know. Some of it, I found out, newspaper articles and such. And some of… Samara told me. She entered my dreams." Drusilla said. And then Spike realised what he really wanted to know.
"What's she doing now?"
Drusilla smiled. "She's taking it back. Killing them all. With a videotape. A cursed videotape. Anyone who watches it… will die in seven days… unless they find the way out." She said. "I watched it." She pushed up the thin fabric of her sleeve, to reveal a burn, in the shape of a childs hand. She pushed it back down again and carried on driving. Neither of them said a word, during the rest of their hour long journey, just sat in earsplitting silence. Spike didn't know what Drusilla was thinking, but his mind was racing around in circles, always coming back to the same thing. That girl. Samara Morgan. He went back over what Dru had said: She's taking it back. Killing them all. With a video tape. A cursed videotape. Anyone who watches it, will die in seven days, unless they find the way out. What Spike didn't quite understand, was how, exactly, Samara could kill people with a cursed videotape. Who even watched videos? Well, he did. In fact, the only D.V.D player he owned was broken, but still… He stared out of the window. He was too lost in his thoughts to even notice what was going on around him.
Author Note: This chapter has been completely re-written, and made a lot longer. Is it too long for a first chapter where not much happens? I hope it wasn't too boring to sit through all that. Or was it?