Tite: In Dreams (Darla)
Darla dreams of possession, a way to reclaim what was lost.
Hand picked from the worst and tutored to be the best, she dreams of her boy who she’s damned. The gypsy bitch lasted but briefly, snuffed out like a withering flame. But a soul burns forever, she knows, an eternal, disgraceful stain. She brandished a stake, frantic, bereaved by her error. What had she done to well up his doubt and bring about his every relived terror? No trifle step, she berates her poor judgment, striding forward to bring about his destruction. Instead of a triumphant kill, she got a sniveling, scared stranger, his repentant tears an abomination. And still she cannot help but silently admonish herself, this pitiable turn of events having occurred by her orchestration. She rallies her thoughts; a solution can be found, there’s nothing that can stop her from finding a way. Failure is not an option. An eternity without Angelus… she must ride to the gypsy camp without delay.
Darla dreams of possession, to bring home her boy who was lost. To tether him fast, score his flesh til he burns and remind him what a vicious, beast he still is. The children wander without his guidance, their family breaking apart. She dreams of his face, his leonine smirk, and worries what her celebratory gift will have cost.