?
The Knife
Disclaimers: These vampires belong to Anne Rice, not me.
Warnings: Violence, Adult Situations
Spoilers: To Queen, I guess.
A soft summer breeze blew over his body, rousing him out of his euphoric
stupor. Lestat smiled dreamily and half-opened his eyes. The feather blankets
and pillows he lay on ruffled up around his face and body, bouying him up like
a cloud. His partner on his cloud gave him a fleeting kiss, tasting his lips
for just a moment before drawing back.
"I'll be right back," Louis whispered, caressing his cheek. "I need to clean my
face, there is blood all over it."
Lestat groaned like a sullen child. "Don't go...we're just going to add more
anyway."
"Just a moment, mon amor, that's all." Louis rose and went to the door, but he
paused and looked back at his lover. Lestat seemed so peaceful, stretched out
nude on his bed, one hand softly pushing his hair back. Louis smiled and turned
back to the bathroom.
Lestat glanced to his left and saw that his fledgling was gone, and his smile
faded away rapidly. He already missed Louis as if he was miles away. He sat up
and swept the room with his gaze, sighing sadly. The room was so dark save for
the light coming from the bathroom. He looked at the nightstand at the side of
the bed, and he bent to open it. The first drawer opened easily, but the only
thing inside was Louis' diary. Tempting as it was, his fledgling would return
in a few moments. He made a mental note of where it was hidden, though, for
future reference. His hand went to the second drawer and started to open it,
but something on the inside caught on the top frame.
He frowned. Should he give into his curiosity and force it open, possibly
breaking whatever was hung up, or should he close the drawer, until he grew so
obsessed that he went insane? Gingerly he reached his hand in, struggling not
to break the drawer, and he accidentally closed it on his fingers.
He managed not to shout, but he looked at his hand and the marks in the skin,
and whimpered in angry frustration. Now he had to get in there, it was a matter
of honor! He put his hand in again, and a few seconds later he managed to get
at the object, which turned out to be a worn out Dicken's novel.
Lestat put it back in and looked through the other books, all of them dog-eared
and losing pages. There were old diaries, singed paperbacks, water-logged
hardbacks, and yellowed loose pages. Lestat smiled. He would have to buy new
copies for his fledgling, who hated shopping. What a wonderful surprise it
would be!
Lestat dug through the books, searching for something interesting. His fingers
scrambled through the drawer and reached into the back, into the dust and
fragments of pages, until his hand closed over something strange. He frowned in
confusion. This thing was long and sturdy, and cool on one end.
Father...
Slowly he pulled the object out, carefully maneuvering it around the books. He
could almost see it now.
Father...
A cool spill of moonlight reflected off the blade, highlighting the streaks of
rust at the rotting hilt. Blood, long dried and eating into the metal, dulled
the tip and several inches of the iron. Still, despite all the damage, he
recognized it. How could he forget it? He still saw it in his nightmares.
What's the matter, father?
"Claudia..." Lestat gasped. He tightened his hand, cutting his palm on the
serrated edge. Saw the blood, streaming down the blade, again. Back down her
knife.
I'll put you in your coffin, father.
"No!" Lestat threw the knife down and turned his face away, but he could still
hear it skittering across the floor like an insect...the thousands of insects
that had crawled over his emaciated body in the swamp...how terrible it had
been, to be so utterly alone...not even Death had come.
"Lestat?" Louis called, stepping inside. He spotted a glimmer on the floor and
picked it up, not knowing what he held. "Lestat, what--?" Then he recognized
it. He neared Lestat and put his hand on his shoulder. The blonde vampire
looked at him with bleeding eyes, and screamed like a speared rabbit.
He'll finish what I started.
Louis...holding the knife up, ready to stab it down, kill him again...monstrous
Death in those eyes, Death had come after all. It would be with him in the
swamps again.
"Lestat, please," Louis tried, not realizing how he looked.
Lestat panicked, scrambling away to the corner of the room, a frightened
animal. His tears covered his body, drawn by the knife once more. He was
blanketed in his own fear.
Louis looked at his hand, then cast the knife aside and held his maker, petting
him and calming him down. Lestat grasped at his fledgling, both afraid and
assured. Death...was not here for him? Then who was? Louis, with his knife?
With her knife?
"Not again," Lestat whispered. "Not again."
"Never again," Louis swore, mentally kicking himself. He'd forgotten that old
memento of love, his only connection to Lestat for years. But then he'd
regained his lover, and the knife had slipped from his memory, useless to him
now that he had the real person. He stared at the evil thing lying casually on
the bed, seemingly harmless. It almost looked like a toy. Lethal play.
Louis gave Lestat a kiss, then stood, leaving his lover limp like a crumpled
lily, and picked up the knife. Lestat whimpered pathetically, but he couldn't
act to defend himself. Louis grasped the hilt, then took hold of the blade, and
snapped it in half. He threw the two pieces through the open window. Out of
sight, out of mind.
Louis, what...what are you doing? Louis! Go out there and get it! Louis! Damn
you, listen to me!
Now Louis went back to Lestat, reassuring him with gentle words, and helped him
stand. He guided his lover back to bed and set him on the edge so he could kiss
away the tears.
Lestat sighed wearily and looked into his lover's eyes. "You love me?"
"Yes," Louis nodded. "Do you love me?"
Lestat gave a weak smile. "Always."
"I'll never leave you, darling. I'll never hurt you."
"I'll never be alone again?"
Louis shook his head. "I'll always be with you. Our souls are intertwined." He
embraced Lestat at that moment, resting his head on his shoulder, and he felt
Lestat do the same. "I love you."
Father...why aren't you paying attention to me?
"I love you too, Louis."
Father...don't ignore me! You monster! I hate you! Listen to me!
Lestat kissed Louis and lay back on the blankets with him. He cuddled close to
him, and bathed in the love and devoted passion, and Claudia's voice died away
on the summer breeze.
The End
