Terrors of the Night
Disclaimers: These vampires belong to Anne Rice, not me.
Warnings: Violence, Adult Situations
Spoilers: To Queen, I guess.
Journal entry:
He's been rather nice this past week. I wonder why. I want to ask him, but I'm
afraid of what might happen if I do. Usually he's only happy when he has
something terrible planned for me. His kind moments, never too close together
to begin with, are now far and few between. For him to be so gentle with me for
such a long time is either a miracle or an omen. It's hard to care so much
about that, though. Just having him near me, touching me softly, or kissing me--
I like kissing, especially when he holds me in a warm embrace. Not so much when
he shoves me back against the wall and presses his body hard against mine. It's
nice when he takes my clothes off slowly. It's such a break from when he'd just
rip them off of me, forgetting I only have a few sets.
He hasn't hit me, either. I haven't been beating or slapped around in a long
time. But I'm sure he still thinks that I'm jealous Akasha chose him instead of
me, and he's still angry that Claudia almost killed him...
Claudia. It's hard thinking about her. I remember the way she would curl up
with me, an eternal child. She brought me back from the abyss I had thrown
myself into, reminding me how human I am, despite my nature. And now she's
gone. My little angel...but I forgive him for killing her. I don't know, but I
might have done it in his place. My only regret is that she died trying to
defend me, trying to stop his cruel hands from throwing me into the fire as a
bit of fun. I still remember looking out on the snow, watching him push her
onto the bonfire screaming her hatred at him. I remember his face at that
moment, twisted and insane. Yes, I forgive him. I love him.
I just wish I knew why he is treating me like a real lover now and not like a
slave. The last time he did this was right before he chained me to a tree in
the middle of a storm, to see me shiver and beg to be let in, like a housepet.
I'm afraid he has something like that in mind again. I know he loves me, he
just can't show it.
Lestat de Lioncourt, January 16, 19--
Lestat sighed, then put the diary back under the mattress, hidden from his
master. If Louis saw it, there was no telling what he would do. Laugh at him,
probably. He'd probably say that he was the owner of the house, and if he
didn't like it, he could leave. As if Lestat could ever leave him.
He stared around the bare room and shivered. There was the fireplace with a few
pieces of wood which wouldn't last another night. He knew there were several
cords of wood downstairs, but Louis demanded those for his own bedroom and the
living room, and wouldn't let Lestat bring in anymore. A small table and chair
stood in the corner, decades old. And then there was the bed he slept in. He
had no blankets, no pillow, not even a sheet. Just a hard mattress on an
rickety frame.
Lestat stood up and walked to the window, opening the glass which had been
painted black. He had seen other people with curtains they could draw back, and
electric lights. He wished he had those, where all he'd have to do to light his
room would be to flip a switch. Instead, Louis insisted that he go without. The
entire house had wiring, except his room. He made do with an old lantern with a
candle inside. The candle was almost gone now. In a few days he would have to
beg another one from Louis, who would naturally complain that Lestat was a
burden and forget about his request for several nights. Then one night he would
surprise Lestat, force him into bed, and leave the candle as his "payment."
That was the way it always went.
He remembered the looks on the faces of the mortal construction workers when
they'd been told not to send electricity to this room. It was as if they were
ripping off an arm or leg. Lestat knew how to live without that kind of power.
Sometimes it wasn't so bad. Sometimes Louis would take him to his own bed,
layered with soft, feather blankets and pillows, and gently dominate him,
drinking from him and using his weakened body, not that he needed to weaken
him. Akasha's blood made him so powerful none of the others were willing to
challenge him. And he didn't let Lestat out, even to feed, without his
permission. Lestat stared at his hand and arm, sickeningly thin. He hadn't been
allowed to even leave the bedroom for two weeks. God, he was so hungry...but he
couldn't afford to cry.
Lestat looked down at the floor, trying to make up his mind, then knelt down.
He slipped his fingers beneath a chink in the floorboards and pulled it up,
revealing the porcelain doll hidden away. Louis would be enraged if he knew
Lestat was hiding Claudia's doll here, but he needed something to remind him of
her. He took it up and walked to his bed, sitting on the edge to stroke its
dress.
"Claudia, I wish you were here..." he whispered. "Things were easier then. I
know you thought we should leave...but I can't. I love him."
Lestat was so enrapt with the doll that he didn't hear the footsteps coming up
the stairs toward his room. He didn't hear the fingers turning the doorknob or
pushing the door open. But he did hear the angry roar and the rapid steps
toward him. He looked up in terror as Louis came closer, green eyes blazing,
hands closed into fists. Lestat tried to clasp the doll tighter, but Louis
merely backhanded him and seized the plaything, kicking him brutally to the
side. Louis shut the window with his mind, not wanting anyone to see what was
about to happen.
"Where did you get this?!" Louis screeched, clutching the doll against himself.
He slapped Lestat viciously when he didn't reply. "Answer me, damn it!"
"One of the construction workers found it when they tore up the floorboards,"
Lestat cried, backing away. "He brought it to me."
Louis reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Lestat's throat,
strangling him. Lestat tried to pry his hand away, but Louis was too strong to
stop. The dark haired vampire shook his victim back and forth like a ragdoll,
then suddenly flung Lestat against the wall. There was a sick snap of bone
breaking, and then Lestat was on the floor, holding one arm gingerly and crying
with fear.
"You miserable, pathetic weakling!" Louis raised the doll, ignoring Lestat's
pleading scream, and threw it on the floor. The porcelain shattered into a
thousand pieces.
"No!" Lestat howled and gathered the doll's dress into his hands, ignoring the
slivers slicing his skin. "Claudia, my little Claudia...my Beautiful One..."
Louis slapped the blonde vampire again, knocking him back to the floor. He
wrenched the dress away from him and threw it in the fire. When Lestat wouldn't
look, Louis pulled his head by his hair and forced him to watch as the dress
slowly vaporized.
"Just like she died," Louis growled. "Screaming as I threw her into the fire.
She cried your name as she burned. But then you saw, didn't you? Locked up in
your room, you could still see her."
Lestat had given up trying to speak. All he could do was sob and moan. Louis
snarled, his temper flaring. He yanked Lestat to the wall and began to beat him
more cruelly than he ever had before. He tore his prisoner's face with his
claws and broke most of his bones until his prisoner could only hang limply in
his hand. Lestat's weeping only angered him further.
"You're just jealous Akasha chose me and not you!"
"No, I love you..."
"Liar!" Louis shrieked. He grabbed Lestat and hurled him toward the other wall.
Instead of crashing and breaking his back, though, Lestat smashed through the
window. Louis rushed forward and looked down.
Lestat was impaled on three rods on the iron fence.
No amount of blood could save him now. Louis raced downstairs, knocking his
expensive candles and tables over. All his anger disapeared. When he reached
Lestat, the blonde vampire was barely breathing. He pulled Lestat up into his
arms, cradling him gently. He weighed less than nothing. Louis felt strange, as
if all of his rage had belonged to someone else, and he was finally himself
again.
"Lestat? Oh, mon Dieu, Lestat? I'm so sorry. So sorry..."
"Forgive...you..." came the feeble whisper. "Love you."
Louis began to cry as Lestat bled out his last few drops. He turned and saw the
house partially in flames. A candle must have caught a rug or curtain on fire.
Resolutely, he carried Lestat back inside and lay him on the couch. Then he
settled beside him, holding him close.
"Louis?"
"Yes, Lestat?"
"I'm...afraid..."
"Don't be," Louis said, holding him tighter. "It'll be over soon. No one will
ever hurt you again. I'll never hurt you again. I'll keep you safe from now on,
I promise. Forever."
The flames were getting higher now, and Lestat's breath shorter.
"Louis?"
"Yes, Lestat?"
"I love you." With those last words, his eyes closed and his body utterly
relaxed.
Louis sobbed harder, resting his head on Lestat's shoulder. "I love you, too,
Lestat. For all time." The fire started up the couch then, and dripped from the
ceiling. In a few moments, the house dropped in on itself in a huge bonfire.
Louis opened his eyes. For a moment, he wondered where he was. Then he realized
that he was in bed and sat up, pushing the blankets away.
"Was it all a dream?" he whispered.
The door suddenly opened and Lestat walked in, a broad smile on his face. He
sat down on the bed and stared at Louis. "It's about time you woke up," he
sighed. "I've been waiting for you, Beautiful One."
Louis looked into his eyes, then stared at the blanket. Without warning he
flung his arms around Lestat and pulled him close, crying violently. Stunned,
Lestat embraced his fledgling, simply holding him.
"Louis, chere, what's wrong?" he whispered gently. "Was it a nightmare?"
Louis nodded faintly. "Oui, a terrible, terrible dream!" He tightened his grip
on Lestat. "I dreamt I hurt you, and killed Claudia, and that Akasha took me
instead. And that I killed you and we died in a burning house!"
Lestat smiled softly. "It's all right now, darling. You're safe. It was just a
dream. We're both alive. No harm done."
Louis slowly calmed down, snifling a bit. "Lestat, it was awful. And so real."
"But it isn't real," Lestat reassured him. "This is." And he placed a small
kiss on his fledgling's lips.
Louis sighed. "Thank you. I needed that." He closed his eyes. "Why can't I get
it out of my memory?"
Lestat stroked his lover's hair and snuggled him close. "Was it truly awful,
chere?"
Louis nodded. "Oh, it was horrible. I dreamt that I was stronger than you, and
treated you worse than a slave. I kept you in a barren room without any heat or
light and didn't let you out to feed for weeks at a time. Lestat, you looked
like a Holocaust victim!"
Lestat smiled reassuringly and shook his head. "What else?"
Louis spoke faster. Talking about it was actually making him feel better. "And
I was the one Claudia had tried to kill, and she was your Beautiful One. I
threw her into a fire and made you watch, and later I threw her doll's dress
into the fireplace and made you watch again. And you started to cry so I beat
you, but you just kept crying...I threw you out a window, and you landed on the
fence spikes."
Lestat almost winced in sympathy with his dreamself. He wouldn't say anything,
but this dream was starting to unnerve him. "And then what happened?"
"I--I felt terrible. You know how it is in dreams, when your entire personality
changes. I picked you up and took you back inside, even though the house was on
fire. Then I set you on the couch and lay down beside you, and you told me you
loved me just before you died."
Lestat smiled. "I can't think of better last words, chere."
Louis looked up with fear into Lestat's eyes. "But, Lestat, what if this is
possible? What if I'm capable of that kind of cruelty? Part of the horror was
watching you tortured like that, but I felt some small satisfaction in hurting
you. I only felt guilty afterwards. I mean, I've hurt you before, and...and..."
"Oh, darling, it was just a dream. Nothing more. You would never do that,
you're too gentle. You're my Beautiful One, inside and out. And you're too busy
reading your dusty books to even think of hurting me." The joke had the
intended effect--Louis gave him a small and shaky smile. Lestat gave his
fledgling another soft kiss. "I love you, Louis. I'll always be here when you
need me. Now, we'd better go before we're late."
"Late for what?"
"The new antique shop downtown. You wanted to go to the grand opening,
remember?"
Louis nodded slowly. Yes, he had, but now he needed something else. "Yes, I
remember, but the shop will be there for some time and I can think of better
ways to spend an evening." He reached up and gave his lover a long, passionate
kiss.
Lestat blinked, surprised that Louis had initiated that, then grinned. "Indeed.
I'll drive that dream out of you, my love."
Louis lay back as Lestat leaned over him. And Lestat kept his word.
