Path of no Return
by Kadira Kerkhoff (June 2000) 
  "You will never die, and yet you look at me and you watch me die, night after 
night, you watch it." 
(Daniel to Armand in QotD) '... one of those tiresome mortals who has seen 
spirits ...', this is how Lestat called us mortals who have been confronted 
with the preternatural and have lost their mind. Is that me? Am I just the 
same? A mortal who got a glimpse of a world not meant for him and because of 
that lost his mind? Is this how my immortal lover sees me? 
 
I don't know anymore what I am. You should have asked me this ten years ago 
when my world was normal. When I was only a promising young reporter who 
wandered around, who roamed the cities in an attempt to conquer the world in 
his own way. But the world I knew broke apart the night I met Louis, who told 
me the enthralling but nevertheless unbelievable story of his life. 
Everything I had always dreamed of and hoped for, but had never believed 
possible, stood right in front of me as he showed me his true nature. I should 
have died that night. What was it that had kept me alive? I really don't know 
how I not only survived my encounter with Louis, who is not more than a mere 
shadow in my memories today, but also Armand. 
 
For years after I stumbled onto my demon, my angel, my love, he has chased me 
all over the world, let me live between despair and hope, not allowing me to 
choose one side. An act of balance between madness and rationality. A game 
which I am supposed to lose at the end. Because despite everything I try and 
do, I am the one who will have to pay the price. If I don't lose my mind, 
alcohol, my only escape these days, will do the rest. Even now I can feel it's 
eating me. Pity that the days when a glass of Bourbon brought me solace and 
merciful sinking into sweet oblivion are long past. There is no escape anymore 
from the enthralling but - at least for my sanity - dangerous life with my 
demon. No escape from the deadly imitation of a mortal with the face of an 
angel I've grown to love. Because I do love him. Even before that magical night 
in Italy, when he gave me his bloody kiss for the first time, showed me real 
passion for the first time, I had fallen in love with him. And this feeling had 
never eased, only grew. Sometimes it had been so strong, that I feared it would 
absorb me. And sometimes I thought it would tear me apart. Always on the run in 
a useless attempt to escape my demon, and with this my own feelings. To flee 
the desperation that threatened to absorb me when I eventually realized that 
there was no way that Armand would ever give me the dark gift. That he would 
never make me what he is. That he would rather watch me die than grant me my 
wish. 
 
A life between hope and fear. Hoping that he would show up again, while at the 
same time not knowing if I would live long enough to see the sun again, or if I 
would be left alone in my desperate longing, in my loneliness. I lived between 
indescribable ecstasy and a never-ending nightmare, never knowing in which one 
I would be when I opened my eyes. Then the unexpected turn. The sharing of 
blood, being bound to the one who had become became my life without me 
realizing or wanting it. Finally no more fear that he would kill me. That he 
would drain my blood and then go on with his life, or maybe better with his 
unlife. 
 
'How could you not know such a thing? I love you. If I hadn't grown to love 
you, I would have killed you before now, of course.' Love. A dangerous and 
absorbing love - at least for me. But that one night had changed everything. 
There was no more need for running away - at least not for the following years 
until I felt the urge to get away again, to keep myself sane. A life in 
passion, desire and seemingly never-ending love with a bitter aftertaste when 
Armand made it clear to me that he would never give me the dark gift, despite 
his love for me. How can someone talk about love, and then be so cruel and 
watch me dying every day anew? Because this is what is happening. Every day I 
can watch myself growing older. Every day I step closer to my end. Not much is 
left of the naïve youth people once saw in me. My fate is sealed, and I am on 
my way. But what will the end be? I really don't know. Am I afraid? Not really. 
I only hope it will be fast. Long suffering mixed with physical pain is the 
only thing I am really afraid of. And I want to be alone. Somewhere where 
nobody knows me. And certainly not in Armand's presence. I couldn't stand to be 
near him in this moment. Knowing that he could change my fate but experiencing 
that he would reject me - again. That he would rather watch me die than turning 
me into what he is. 
 
I don't even have the will to get my life back anymore. Everything that I once 
was, what I am now and what I ever will be is Armand. He is the only constant 
and important thing in my life nowadays. Hell, he is my life. I can barely 
remember the time before, when I could feel the sun warming my face, met with 
friends, visited relatives and simply lived. But would I turn back time if I 
could? Would I want it to be different? No, I don't think so. I would act the 
same way I did before and happily pay the price in the end. 
 
And now you have to excuse me. One more Bourbon, one more attempt to forget 
what my life has become, before I return to the place were my worst nightmare 
and at the same time the only bright spot in my own personal hell is waiting 
for me. I have to continue my journey on the path without a possibility to 
return ...
 ---The End---

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