Louis Blues' Divine Madness
Chapter 1 |
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Lestat peered through the small space between the two dirty white curtains. His heart was pounding with mixed emotions. The dirt and poverty of his small room he once shared with his partner no longer sank into his pores.
His skin was as clean as an angel's, peerless, white enough to be judged to belong to an effete, unhealthy, young man. His vivid features were not lost to his white complexion. His red mouth curved easily. The lines of his face were still somewhat visible. His flashing and engaging gray eyes belied the initial concept anyone would have of his being a young man who was somehow unwholesome.
There was little light outside. Not even the private lamps outside of people's homes had any more wicks to them. The evening was only a few short hours away from dawn. Even the gangs of cutthroats, the whores, and drunken sailors had made their way to some sort of shelter from the night.
I love it. I love it all. Paris, Lestat's thoughts sang. He hugged himself, trying to warm the ice of his skin. The humidity of the night had no moist effect on his skin. If it did his skin would shed blood rather than mortal sweat.
Lestat went back to the curtains, parting them further with his long fingers, his lashes and lids closing over his fine eyes.
How marvelous it all looked when I first came to find myself here. The cut-gem, glitter of the aristocrats traveling in their chairs and coaches dazzled me to forget the squalor of the immense. Lestat smiled, thinking, Garbage of all these teeming cobbled streets. Heaving with noise. The bellowing of cattle, horses, ducks, dogs, and cats mixed in with the shouts of vendors. Accompanied with the tunes of street musicians. The aroma of roast meat, the scent of fresh fish, and the smell of tallow soaps sold at market. The clouds of smoke, the air polluted with waste, and gaudy perfume. That breath taking experience of Paris at day.
"At night," Lestat whispered, "The night. The day time noise still shouted out. And such a thing as a rare rare quiet moment could only be imagined.. The night smelled of grease paint, Tasted of too much wine, tasted of rouged kisses, greasy faces pressed against my lips. And songs, scripted platitudes, .improvised lines from we, players of the comedie d'art, Oui, the laughter, sighs, and the gasps we drew out from the audience. And now, and now how quiet it is. How silent."
"Except for you," said a strong voice from the pallet, "Forever you chatter. Even to yourself. Are you so afraid of silence you must talk when all mortals are dead in their sleep, dreaming their dreams. Still you must talk!"
"I'm sorry Nicki," Lestat said, his jaw slack.
The vampire on the bed was the same shade of complexion as Lestat. Vampire flesh young enough so not to appear to be monstrous. He was haughty in his own special way till his face broke into a wild kind of open, Bacchanalian grin. His hair curly, thick, and brown companioning an urbane youthful face which made a point of appearing to be scornful.
Lestat never believed in the cynical approaches Nicki's face would take; he had see Nicki's face too often off guard. Innocent and merry as a child's.
Innocent, merry, and drunken. Those are the only times you would ever allow me to see you in any other light than the over sophisticated manners you wanted, non you demanded me to see, Lestat thought miserably to himself.
He continued his vigil of staring out into the dome of the night up above the small, precious hovel.
"Who are you looking for? What are you looking for?' Nicki said not unkindly, stretching his naked body on the pallet. The pallet which made for their bed was messy with bed bugs.
Lestat hesitated. He still felt fragile and scorned from the angry exchange they had at Renaud's abandoned theatre. Now the theatre was occupied by Eleni, Laurent, and the other vampires of Armand's destroyed coven the Children of Darkness. Now they styled themselves as being Vampires des Theatre. Soon Lestat imagined Armand would take the theatre in hand as Armand would soon take Nicki in hand.
"Answer me," Nicki said, putting his slender arm around Lestat's naked chest, and his other arm around his waist.
"You complain I talk too much," Lestat said his body tense in Nicki's arms. Lestat felt repelled, hostile, yet he desired to be forgiven.
"Who are you looking for?' Nicki repeated, burying his head in Lestat's fine, long hair.
"I look in the well of darkness and I feel, non I think I see his face. His fine mask of a face which only held a personality to me other than that of a monster when I first saw him with my new born vampire eyes. Ah, when I was mortal even in my fear of him I was in love with him. And once I was a vampire I saw the beauty which escaped my mortal eyes. Magnus. I wonder does he look at me with approval? If somehow he was aware I sill exist."
"Approval, ha, I find it surprising from you. You seek the approval of a father. You never gave a damn about your mortal father. Why should you give a damn about the monster who created you?" Nicki said, cold hell's bells laughing in his voice, "Such an orphan. You even had to invite your own mother to be your lover on the Devil's Road. How perfect for you. Mother and son. She has her son, she needs no husband. You have your daughter. You need no partner. The two of you a perfect, supernatural union. You have no need for a father, Lestat. You and Gabrielle the union of the satanic parent and child."
Nicki's fingers played with Lestat's lips, he whispered into Lestat's ear, "Perfect."
"You mock me once again," Lestat whispered, turning his head. His cold lips catching Nicki's lips by surprise. He slipped his long tongue into Nicki's mouth. Nicki withdrew his lips so the kiss was soon broken.
"Gabrielle, she believes in me," Lestat said, his lips feeling lonely for the cold touch of his dark fledgling's mouth. "She completes me."
"She feels as much contempt for you as I do," Nicki said, nonchalantly. Jauntily falling onto the pallet, Nicki said, "You have no idea at the depths we can take this evil existence of ours. We can even do good with it. All she wants to do is frolic amongst the savage wilderness. An unseen legendary force. I will be seen Lestat. Are you not sick with jealousy?"
"Non," Lestat said, his stomach tightening.
"Oui, of you are jealous. And it delights me. And astounds me. I shall continue with your legacy, your priestly calling of doing good for the masses." Nicki laughed.
"Your intent is evil," Lestat tried to say causally. A catch in his voice, "Your whole motivation is evil."
"Ah, but the result my dear fool is still the same. The masses who crowd the theatre will leave their troubles outside. They will laugh, sigh, cry, be happy, they will be entertained. We will transport them to our world."
"Not a better world. Not like the world of the theatre d'commmedia."
"Not like the theatre d'commmedia where the women are more beautiful then mere women? The men more brave than every day men? But we will. We will. Our so called women with their paper white faces will be far more beautiful, more desirable than any mere mortal. Our heroes more heroic. Our comedies more meaningful; and more satirical. The deaths more tragic. We will reflect Death's face. Make it a comic thing. Make it tragic. Make it however we desire to make it."
"I preferred the laughter, the romances of mortals," Lestat moaned.
"When you were a mortal but of course you preferred mortals' romances and comedies. This make believe between lovers. What we will do on the stage will be real. Ah Lestat we will have our make believe too. Mixed in with reality. The theme death is more universal. Death is more generous than love. Oui, a human being or a monster like us can live their whole life without ever being loved. But death! Democratic death is not prejudiced against the ugly, the obscene, or the misfit. I should know. Should I not? " Nicki mocked. "Do you love this monster you have created? Do you love me? I do not give a damn about you."
What do you want?" Lestat cried sitting on the pallet, "Be angry and hurtful with me if you must. I can not help the fact I do not love you. anymore. You are not the same Nicki."
" I have changed? Have I?" Nick said flourishing his fangs at Lestat.
"Towards me, oui you changed. You lied to me. You told me you believed you and I could live, thrive together in Paris when all along you only meant for us to flounder, and starve. Damn you. Is it my fault your desires for the result of our fates betrayed you? Was it? Can I help that I was a successful actor?"
"This done to death argument between us. Why should we bring it up? . Lovers bring up old arguments to tear bonds between them apart. We're not lovers," Nicki said insolently, "There's no need for us to argue anymore. The bond between us has been already broken."
"Do you know what I want?" Nicki said, leaning towards Lestat kissing his eyes to be shut. "I want to find a monster. A good monster. And mon ami, it isn't you."
"You'll find your good monster in Armand," Lestat cried sullenly, trying to pull away from Nicki's hold.
"That shallow child? That plaything?" Nicki laughed, falling backwards, flat on the pallet.. He pulled Lestat to fall on top of him. "There's anther person you look for? Isn't there? The child you let escape."
Louis," Lestat said, his mouth enjoying the taste of the boy's name. "When he is grown I'll seek him out. Armand was almost as enamored of our near victim as I was. If Henri hadn't had forced me to recuse Louis from Armand's coven, and to allow him to take Louis back to his family, I would have made a foolish mistake with the boy. | 