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written, directed, and unlived by Santiago and Louis
Time: Yesterday
Louis
I looked over his "writings"...and, leaving a note behind, I slipped it underneath the door...the
note read:
Santiago...
Do I have need to worry?...I have taken a look at things you have said and I feel as though
my safety may be at stake...I do hope that I am mistaken...Surely you must know that I
never meant any real harm...I would not be so foolish as to try to tangle with you...I know
that I would be the one to fail...Please be content in knowing that I realize that myself...
Louis
Santiago -- a note:
My dear M. Point du Lac,
You must imagine my surprise after finding your note slipped beneath my door...and its
contents, especially, caused me to raise an eyebrow.
A vampire should always be concerned for his safety, no? hahahahahaha... Because if one
lets one's guard down, it's easy to end up with someone trying to decapitate you while
burning down your home.
But you know about having your home burned down, don't you?
While I don't believe that you did not mean any harm--after all, you thought you relieved
me of my head, didn't you--I have come to realize, over the past few months during which
my acquaintence with Lestat, your patron and protector, has strengthened, that the
incidents of the past don't need to intrude upon the present.
That is, I don't have any desire to kill you...at the moment. So perhaps a wary peace must
fall between us for the moment.
I bid you a pleasant evening.
Regards,
I stood before the door once more, my hand trembling as I stared what seemed to be
right through it...slowly, I bent over and pushed the folded paper underneath the
opening..half fearing that at any time it could open before I had a chance to leave
again...but it did not, and I left as quickly as I arrived, leaving the note for him to find.
Santiago...
Yes, I am certain you were quite surprised at finding the note I had left...and once again, I
am leaving this one beneath your door as well, because I do not yet feel secure enough in
presenting it to you in person...a coward perhaps, but that is the way I choose to do it
nonetheless...
I suppose I should at least find some, however minimal, comfort, in knowing that you don't
have any intention of killing me at the present time...
As far as that little comment about if you let your guard down you can end up with
someone trying to decapitate you while burning down your home...I know exactly what
you were getting at, but...Santiago, you know why that took place...I was acting purely on
emotion, and therefore did what I should never have done...let my emotions rule my
actions...Please understand and put yourself in my place...Can you honestly say that if the
situation had been reversed, that you would not have done the same thing?...She was
everything to me...everything...and I was in pain...not thinking clearly...that is why I did
what I did...And that is why I say that I did not really mean to do harm...it
just...happened...
I want nothing more than to have peace between us...I believe that is why I have written
these letters to begin with...In hopes that a truce of sorts can be reached...I am happy to
know that you seem to want that as well...for I believe what you say to be true, that the
incidents of the past don't need to intrude upon the present...
I have made many mistakes since I first became what I am, I know that...but I wish to
rectify all I have done, if it be possible...Believe my words Santiago, they are the truth...
Louis
The reply was left on the door to Louis’ hiding place, found as he emerged at sunset. It
was held to the door with a small but wickedly sharp little throwing knife with a very
elaborate handle. It appeared to be Spanish or possibly Mexican in design. The initial S
was set into the handle with rubies. Was this a threat or another mark of Santiago's
strange sense of humor?
My dear M. Pointe du Lac,
A truce, hm, yes, sir, that would be for the best for all concerned. I am trying very hard to
get past the past, one might say, for the present is filled with singular delights. It has taken
me nearly a century and a half to get over Armand's betrayal and the role you played in it.
Yes, I can honestly say that had the situation been reversed, I would not have done the
same. You knew that the vampires of the theatre acted only on Armand's directives,
myself included, though perhaps we did take an unwarranted pleasure in it. And did you
not suspect for the least that it was Armand himself who pushed your little blonde doll into
the sunlight? At last he confessed it in that missive of confession he gave to David Talbot.
What do you think of him now, our auburn-haired, angel-faced former lover, who
confessed to playing Dr. Frankenstein with Claudia?
You knew Armand was behind everything that happened, and yet you destroyed us
anyway. Had you but gone with him in peace, I might have taken over the theatre and
claimed the credit and glory that was rightfully mine.
Ah, but you must forgive my bitterness over events so long past. I suppose my own regret
is that my several attempts to recreate Le Theatre des Vampires in the time since have
failed miserably, though why I am telling you this I do not know. Perhaps it is because that
soon the time will come for me to once more attempt to resurrect the theatre, only this
time, it will be in the new world: New Orleans. Living here has proven it to be just the
right atmosphere for the wicked debauchery which I intend to present to the world.
Now, I must go. A good night to you.
Deepest Regards,
My breath stopped short as I caught glimpse of the dagger bearing the familiar intitial of
his name...Instantly I knew it was his even before I moved to remove the letter from from
its captivity behind the blade...as I read over the words, I was filled with a remembrance of
times past...I looked up from the page as I stared blankly into nothingness...repeating as I
whispered. "Armand's betrayal and the role I played in it..." and then I continued on...pain
shooting through me where I was certain he knew it would...I finished the letter and then
began hastily one of my own...the pen shaking in my hand as I tried to write each letter:
Santiago...
Even though I myself do not believe when you say you would not have done the same had
you lost the most precious of loves to you, I will not argue it...And yes, I knew, soon
after, or rather suspected, that Armand was behind her destruction...It was confirmed to
me, though I said it to no one but him, as I confronted him and met with his denial of it...It
was then that I knew he was the reason for it...You ask what I think of him now, and I
shall tell you...I have forgiven him...I had done that already long ago, but it was not until
recently that he truly believed it...
Let me touch on another aspect...My own destruction of the theatre and its...inhabitants...I
destroyed them because of the way in which they revelled at her demise...taking glory in
something that should not have happened...I should have been the one burnt to a
cinder...not her...Oh yes, I suppose you will say that it was she who tried to destroy her
maker...but if I had not been so careless in my guidance of her, perhaps it would not have
taken place...Alas, there is nothing that can change that now...I, as you, would rather
forget the past...
I must say, as odd as it may sound to you I'm sure, that I think it is a wonderful idea that
you wish to try your hand once more at resurrecting the theatre...I even believe that this
time, it may very well be a success...and I wish you, with utmost sincerity, the best of
luck...au revoir for now Santiago...I hope you find the peace we all so desperately yearn
for...
Louis
I left the letter in its usual place as I slipped it beneath the door...waiting for three nights
to ensure he had received it, I made my way there, the dagger at my side, and knocked on
the door...as I waited anxiously, the door finally opened...a man I did not recognize stood
before me...As I started to say who I was, he stepped aside and I entered, knowing the
risk I was taking by coming here...I saw him standing there, his back to me, as I slowly
approached him...in a quiet tone, I held the dagger before me as I said, "I believe this
belongs to you..."
"I believe this belongs to you..."
Slowly, slowly I turned to face him, the one who had fueled my hatred for nearly a
century and a half, the one upon whom I had blamed everything, everything that had
happened so very long ago. His letter was in my hand, as if I had been holding it for some
time.
He looked untouched by time, as I myself must, I supposed. As beautiful as he ever had,
the first time I'd laid eyes on him in 1862, the first time I'd known that Armand would
desire him, and that what little sway I still held over Armand would disappear with the
appearance of this new vampire.
How did I appear to him? How did he feel, standing before me? It was true, he had come
here to make peace with me, and yet it was still so tempting to lunge after him--to go for
the throat.
I held every molecule still, deliberately still. And then, I smiled, allowing the expression
to creep slowly across my features, knowing that he would wonder if the plasticky grin
was genuine. I bowed sweepingly to him then, with my free hand gesturing to my servant,
who had let Louis in, that he should go, so that the two of us were truly alone.
"Ah, my good monsieur. Indeed, thank you for returning it. Delighted to know that you
have recieved my correspondance. I must say, I am rather...surprised, that you have
come..."
I watched as the servant walked away, following him with my eyes... and then I turned
my attention back to Santiago...the silence for the moment was deafening...I still could not
believe that I had taken the risk in coming here...My mind kept flashing back...to that
time...when I had caused so much destruction and death...the time I thought I had killed
him as well...I was certain that my body was shaking, if only slightly, at the prospect of
what he could do to me, were he to choose to take another avenue other than peace...Yes,
he would be justified, I knew that...I deserved anything that he would bring against me for
what I had done...I did, after all, commit the greatest sin of all...atleast in his eyes...But
then he began to speak...with not an ounce of threat to his words...I relaxed then, but only
slightly...a hint of relief washing over me...I took a few steps forward, cautiously, as I held
the dagger out to him...Staring at him intently, I finally dropped my eyes to the floor...My
damnable passiveness getting in the way again...recovering, I looked back up to him as I
said soft spokenly, "You're welcome Santiago...As am I...very surprised in fact...I do not
know what possessed me to come here...other than to return this...which I could have
done as I had with the letters...left it at your doorstep...But that somehow seemed...I don't
know...wrong, I suppose...No...no I do know...I had to come...It was eating away at
me...I know that in an instant you could tear me limb from limb...but even knowing that
possibility, I still had to come here...and take that chance..." I searched his face for any
sign of reaction. "And I thought it would be more fitting, my words of regret more honest
sounding, if I were to say them in person instead of just on a page..." I closed my eyes and
leaned my head back as I took a deep breath and swallowed heavily...my words came out
barely above a whisper as I said "I want to bury the past Santiago...where it belongs...I
truly do...And yes, I will admit, I am terrified right now, standing before you...but I'm sure
you can sense that already yourself without me even saying so...My logic tells me you
want this truce as much as I do...it is just the rest of my mind that has to learn to accept
it..."
I listened to his whispered words, amazed at his appearance of fright. So meek and
mild-seeming this vampire, even though I knew the violence he was capable of, knew it all
too well. How on earth did he survive? He seemed sincere, but I too could seem sincere
when I desired. The problem was, I rarely put on such a face.
And yet, I believed him. He meant what he said, this beautiful yet morose creature. I
could see in him then the qualities that had attracted Armand--qualities I had never
possessed. We were opposites, Louis and I...
And when he spoke, I wanted peace as well. Suddenly the revenge I had planned, lusted
after, even, seemed stale and unattractive. The thought of slaying him slowly and painfully
seemed old, childish.
"Very well, a truce then." I tilted my head to the side. "I don't need to have your Lestat
coming after *me* in revenge anyhow..."
I injected a note of disdain into my tone, but it was mostly for show.
I wondered if he knew that I could see right through him...but I would allow him his
need to make it sound as if the only reason he was saying these words was to prevent a
battle of any kind with my maker...I could, however, not help but respond to it
"Santiago..." I said as calmly as I could with my nerves still being what they were...I would
force myself to look at him, but each time, only seconds later, my gaze would be averted
elsewhere as if I still could not truly face him fully. "It is true that Lestat would do
anything in his power to protect me...that is who he is...who he always has been...he feels
it his duty to do so...for whatever reason it may be...I have yet, after all this time, still been
unable to figure out just what that reasoning is..." I laughed lightly then as I looked to the
floor. "I know what he tells me but---but I digress...for that is not the reason I am here...
"I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you have accepted my offer of peace..." looking
back to him, I continued, "I do mean it sincerely...if there is any question...I should have
come years ago...but I had neither the courage, nor the thought to do so...why that is, I do
not know...I suppose I had hoped that somehow you would forgive me on your own...that
you would forget what had happened...but I knew that wasn't a possibility...I knew that..."
I stepped to him slowly, cautiously, coming to rest only a foot in front of him...knowing
not where I suddenly found the strength to do so. "I do have respect for you...whether you
believe that or not...and perhaps that is another reason I felt I needed to come...And now,
I have another offer I wish to make you...if you so desire, I would like to help you, in any
way that I can, to ressurect the theatre...I...I feel that it is the least I can do to rectify what
I did in the past...If you choose not to accept my help, I will understand...I would not
blame you in the slightest if you would rather I not be a part of your venture...but if you
are willing, I will do what I can to assist you in its fruition..."
He could not have said anything which would have surprised me more, this offer of his to
resurrect my theatre. Though I had crossed my arms over my chest as he moved nearer
me--too near, in fact, though I did not take the step backwards I would have liked--I could
no longer maintain my expression of disdain.
Was he for real? Or was this some sort of trick, some cruel practical joke, something I
myself might have taken glee in performing. Yet somehow, I suspect such foolery was not
in him.
Still, I had to force myself to move with caution. HE wanted to resurrect the theatre?
Could he resurrect Estelle? Celeste? The others he had slaughtered, my lost beauties, my
vampires of the theatre, my lovers, my devotees, my friends?
Then again, perhaps friends was a strong word. None of us had truly been friends. I kept
these thoughts to myself.
"Well," I said "I cannot pretend your suggestion has not taken me by surprise."
I paused.
"Yet I also cannot pretend it is unattractive to me. Indeed, I mentioned in
my...correspondence...that I had selected this fair city of New Orleans for such a venture."
I turned my head a bit to the side, studying him. "And just how do you propose to lend
your aid?"
It was clear I had not thought that far ahead...my expression alone must have given away
that notion...I stared at him in silence for quite a while before I answered...and when I did,
it was accompanied with a saddened shrug.
"I..I do not know...really...I have not the
experience to know how to go about such a task...but I am willing to help...if you will
accept it..." and almost as though I heard his previous thoughts, which of course I did not,
I said, "I know that it can't make up for anything else...but I would like for you to also see
it as a gesture of me showing you the sincerity of my words...it is not a ploy to get you to
trust me so that I may betray you...even after all that has taken place, I think you know I
am not one to resort to such things...I never have been...and I won't be that way now...I
simply can see how important it is for you to bring it back again...and if I give you reason,
at any time, with or without merit, for you not to trust my actions or word, then I will,
without resistance, offer myself up at your mercy...for you to destroy me in any way that
you see fit...I think that will say enough about how much I really mean what I am
saying...for you could easily say that I have done or said something to arise your
suspicion, when I have done nothing, just so that you could collect on that term...so you
see...I...am trusting you as well..."
I simply stared at him for a moment, trying to contain the bloodlust that rose up within
me at his words. Did he know what he was doing, offering his trust, himself, so blindly...to
ME? I had learned methods of pain unheard of, mostly from my tenure with Armand...but
again, he had spent time with Armand too, had he not? Maybe he enjoyed such things.
And even though I had accepted his offer of peace, the desire for revenge that I had fed
for so many years was still barely dormant, like a live thing below the surface of my cold,
white skin.
I could not help the swirl of images that played before my eyes, Louis at my mercy, when
I had no mercy, mine to torture, to rend, to destroy. All the fantasies of endless days
underground...burn him, bury him, throw him to the alligators piece by piece...danced like
proverbial sugarplums. I balled my hands into fists so tight that my sharp, pointed nails cut
into my palms. It was lucky I had not yet fed tonight, as my palms surely would have run
over with blood.
I had to turn away from him for a moment, to clear my head, and even in my delerium I
had to wonder what he must think of my extreme reaction to his words, what expression
must be stamped across my features. Oh, he must realize what danger he was putting
himself in with those words!
Yet there was something stronger than my desire to kill him. Something else he had
offered, something I had wanted to do for a long time, had tried to do, and, admittedly,
failed miserably. To bring back Le Theatre...
I sat down rather heavily, wiped my hand over my eyes, and looked at him. He was still
standing so I gestured for him to take the other chair. When I was assured that my voice
would be calm, that my expression had once more become cold, neutral, I began. Sharing
my plans with my dearest enemy...what splendid irony!
"To begin with," I said, "We need a building. The French Quarter, I think, would be best
location. There's a small theater on St. Peter at Jackson Square that might do. I haven't the
funds at the moment for this venture, so I suppose you'll have to come up with the money.
And then...we need actors..."
I watched him, my eyes widening as his hands clenched tightly closed...swallowing
heavily, I stood there staring at him, afraid to speak...afraid to move...I could only guess
what was going through his mind, yet I dared not think of it...I knew what risk I was
taking by being here, by saying what I had...but it was something I needed...had...to
do...for him...for me...there was no other choice or option for me now...that much was
plain...I moved slowly to the chair he offered, seating myself carefully...the anxiety I
suddenly felt again had to be obvious, but I remained in that chair and listened to each
word he spoke intently...when he was finished, my response came quickly even in the
quietness of my still nervous tone. "That won't be a problem..."I said, my gaze fixed on
him. "I have more than enough the necessary funds to cover the expense needed ...so that
is not a concern...I have to agree that The French Quarter is indeed the best location...I
can think of no better place...as for the actors...I don't believe they will be that hard to
come by...it is just a matter of who is willing to be a part of it...as I said, I will do
whatever I have to, to ensure its success...I want to do this for you Santiago...if nothing
else...atleast this...but there is something I must ask you...and maybe I shouldn't...perhaps
it would be best for me to just let it be...but I cannot...it is weighing on me..."
I took a
deep breath before I continued on, my eyes never once leaving him, knowing what I was
offering, but fearing it just the same. "I couldn't help but notice your reaction to what I had
said moments ago...and even though I have not the capability to read what you were
thinking, I think I have a pretty good idea...I know how hard this is for you...my being
here...the agreeance to the truce...all of it...so what I want to ask you is this...would it help
you any...I mean would it be easier for you..to...to exact some form of revenge on
me?...because if you feel that is what you really need to do...then do it...first...before we
begin...because I want nothing left of this once we do...and maybe I am insane for saying
this...but...I do know that it is what I deserve..."
Was he trying to inflame me? Because if he was, it was working! Perhaps he was simply
a masochist. In any case, his words, his meek, submissive...offering...of himself merely
stoked the fires of my insanity.
What I could do to him...
I remembered, in that moment, most fondly, that secret room below the original Theatre
des Vampires, the room only Armand and I knew of...any other who had seen it had
expired there. I recalled the links set into the walls, cuffs strong enough to hold man or
vampire. I recalled the surgeon's tray full of instruments....oh, and what medical
instruments we had in the nineteenth century! A plethora of whips, barbs and hooks...
And, of course, the table where Armand had played Dr. Frankenstien with a golden haired
little girl vampire before offering her up to the sunlight.
I knew how to give pain. Oh, yes.
But were I to start with Louis, could I stop?
"You have no idea what you are asking for," I said hoarsely. "You would not survive my
revenge. Be grateful that I mean to forgo it."
Oh, once he was gone I would have to hunt...
I stared at him intently, moving closer even as I did so...trying once again to read the
thoughts that were unavailable to me...of course I knew what I was asking...how could I
not?...I wasn't so naive that I wouldn't know the possibility of death...and after all, it was
what I had coming to me...I was surprised however, that he did not so readily accept...I
would have thought all these years of wanting revenge would cause him to jump at the
opportunity to bring to me the pain I had brought to him by my actions of a time so long
ago...and here he was refusing it...I should have been relieved, grateful...but I was not...for
I truly believed in my own mind that I deserved his vengeance...
I held out my hand to him, keeping my eyes fixed on his face. "Do we have a deal then?...as
I said, I will provide all the money needed, as I have ample enough..."
Taking the last two
steps and closing the distance between us, I bent my head forward, lowering my tone to an
almost whisper, "and I know exactly what I was asking Santiago...I meant every word of
it...every...word...you would be wise to think about that offer twice and make your
decision accordingly...because I am telling you now..." I said, breathing in and lifting my
head, "After this...it ends...I know I said that if you felt justification in any way once this
venture gets under way, that you could do as you wish with me...but that is offered for
things that may come...although I can assure you, they will not...I will prove to you that
you can trust me...however...this offering was for things I have done..."
Pure and simple, he was seducing me. Maybe he wasn't aware of it. Perhaps he was
genuinely contrite...he certainly seemed to be. But that was just what he was doing, the
same way I allowed myself to be seduced by beautiful mortals, mortals who *never
survived* my bloodlust...
Another thought occurred. If I took him now, if I carved my anger for the past upon his
slim, white body, if I put the light out of his green eyes, then the damned Theatre would
never get built. Not only would I be forfeiting his money, which I needed, but I would
certainly have Lestat to deal with. Would he believe that Louis had come to me this way,
practically begging me to kill him? I thought not.
I knew I couldn't torture him just a little. I'd go all the way. I'd end him. And so, I knew I
must wait until a moment where my strength was greater. Perhaps if I grew used to having
him around...under my thumb...at my mercy...so meek and submissive. Later...later...now,
think of the Theatre. The Theatre.
"The theatre," I mumbled, not quite under my breath. I tore my eyes away from his. I took
his hand and shook it roughly and quickly, then snatched my fingers back out of his grip.
"It's a deal. You'll help me put up the Theatre."
I wanted to step backwards, but I would never give him ground. Instead I turned my
back on him dismissively, knowing that eventually he must step back of his own accord. I
was tense, waiting for his presence to subside.
"Come back to me with the deed to the building and the paperwork for a special
bankaccount that I may draw upon for the necessary expenditures," I said harshly. "Or if
you still wish to die," I sneered rudely, "You may leave me all your money and go stand in
the sun!"
Did he know how he'd stirred me? How...badly...I wanted him? And lust, for me, was
Death. for the object of my lust.
I stood motionless for what seemed an eternity, just staring at the back of him...and then
my eyes squeezed shut at the cruelty of his words and the tone in which he said
them...what an affect they had on me...tearing right into my soul...perhaps I should just go
into the sun...then it would all be over...I will have answered for everything and I would
then know peace...but I had not the courage...or I would have done that very action long
ago...I lowered my head, opening my eyes slowly that were now moist with tears...but
why?...as I looked to the floor, I cleared my throat lightly, pushing the words forth that
struggled to come.
"Alright...I..I will get everything started...and..once I
have...completed...what you have asked of me...I will return...it will take but a few days,
and then everything should be in order..." I lifted my eyes back up and stared at him once
more...drawing a deep breath, I raised my hand slowly and placed it gently upon his
shoulder as I leaned towards him. "You will see Santiago," I whispered, "This trust that you
have allowed, will not have been in vain..." Pulling my hand away, I turned from him and
started for the door...as I opened it, I stopped, turning my head halfway back as I said, "So
we are agreed...it ends now..." and then I stepped through the opening, closing the door
behind me...once outside, I leaned my back against it and let out a sigh of relief...it sunk in
now...I had made a pact with the one called Death.
"My god..."I whispered as I looked up
to the darkened sky, "What have I just done?"
I nearly collapsed when he left. My vision was a blur of red. I needed blood. How...how
dare he stir me this way?
I shook my head to clear it and got a sheet of paper. The theatre. Must draw up the
plans.
In those moments of ebbing lust, I drew up my thoughts for a new and even more
glorious, more bloody Theatre des Vampires than had ever gone on in Paris.
When I was sure Louis was gone, I left my apartments to hunt. I found a young man
with dark hair and green eyes, tall and sad and beautiful. So easy it was to lure the mortal
back to my lair with promises of alcohol and more fervent pleasures. So sweet it was to
rip open his throat, to bathe my face in the spatter of his hot life's blood...
"Ah, Louis..." I moaned inadvertantly. There was no one to hear. My visitor was dead.
I left the corpse that looked so like him on the doorstep of Louis' resting place just
before dawn. Back in my quarters, my servant had cleaned up the blood without
comment.
How long would I have to wait for Louis to return with the promised money and deed?
And what would I do when I saw him again?
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