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written, directed, and unlived by Santiago and Louis
Louis
We left the theatre then as I followed after him...something changed that night, though
exactly what that was, was uncertain still...but I came away with the belief that he was not
the monster so many thought him to be.
Santiago
Perhaps it had been a long time in coming...perhaps I hadn't even felt it sneaking up upon
me... But somehow, my hatred of him died...and something else was reborn in its place.
Something that almost frightened me in its intensity. For weeks the theatre was put on
hold as we spent entire nights talking...
The fledglings grew restless. They had learned their new lives well enough, with little
direction from myself and none at all from Louis. They were ready for the promised
theatre -- the fortune and glory that they had been lured and seduced with.
Finally, I called a rehearsal, without even a script in my hand. I paced the stage, looking at
my actors...and Louis...
"I know most of you have heard the story of my original Theatre," I said. "My original
concept was to duplicate that. However...I have since realized that change is essential --
especially to the vampire, one who has difficulty with such things. And so, we shall
perform something new, something exciting, something dark...but we will not present the
grotesque violence to which modern audiences have become accustomed. It's no longer
shocking."
I stood at the far corner of the stage, casting glances to each fledgling, watching for a
reaction as Santiago spoke...but I was offered none...taking the steps forward to close the
distance between he and I, I pondered what he had said, then questioned it.
“Am I to understand then, Santiago, that violence will not be a part of our
performances?...that we will rely on craft and backdrops, words?...”
"We will rely as well on our more...unnatural talents. We will dazzle with our white skin
and fierce eyes...we will hypnotize...we will enchant...we will delight," I replied. "I know
some of you have the ability to float..." I levitated a foot in the air off the stage, "And all
of you can move with immortal speed. We can create magic that humans cannot. And we
will use it -- to entertain!" I waved my hand in a grand gesture and landed back down on
the stage. Then one of the fledglings, the one who had been raped into this existance, but
had adapted rather nicely, or so I believed, spoke:
"What is this, Cirque de Soleil?" he said sarcastically.
I flew down from the stage faster than even another vampire could see and struck him
across the face, breaking the chair in which he sat.
"I am still your Master, and you will show me respect."
He did not reply. I looked around the room at the others -- at Louis.
I stared in silent disbelief, the whites of my eyes nearly showing...I was not accustomed to
seeing another struck...even Lestat, with all of his mood swings that sent him into
irrational rages, had never hit me...I knew with Santiago, I had to be careful...so that he
would never turn that sort of anger on me...as these thoughts were going through me, I
became aware that his gaze had come to rest on me...I of course, as I always did, shifted
mine to the floor, remaining silent still.
He looked away. Was he afraid I would turn my rage on him? But oh I couldn't, not now,
not any more...or could I? Did I really even know, myself?
What happens when this project ends and you go your separate ways? My mind
whispered. What will you wish to do to him then, rather than lose him?
I shook my head. This was not the time. Suffice to hope that my outburst with the
fledgling had served as an example to all of them.
"Now," I continued, floating back to the stage as calmly as if I'd never left it, "I will have
the script for you in the next few nights, and we will revise it as necessary. The primary
roles will belong to Louis and myself, of course. The rest of you will support us as
necessary. Dismissed."
The fledglings scattered at my words, and I turned and went to Louis. I waited for him to
say what was on his mind.
I looked back up at him slowly, smiling faintly as I began, knowing he wanted for me to
tell him of my thoughts even when he could pluck them from me so easily. I know there
are reasons why you do the things you do...and perhaps, at times, even necessary for you
to do them...but what just happened, is not something I am used to seeing...and yes, it did
frighten me to see you react that way...but again, I am sure you felt justified in doing it...
"I have to...protect myself," I said simply. I turned from him and sat down heavily on the
edge of the stage. He didn't understand how easy it would be for them to rise up against
me. Against both of us! They needed to be kept in line. "I do what I must. Now...do you
know any good plays?" I made my tone light...teasing.
When I went home at dawn, I pulled out a few sheets of paper and a ballpoint pen, ready
to create a work of art for Le Nouveau Theatre des Vampires. Wasting close to half an
hour playing with the pen, I marveled over how far humanity had come with writing
utensils. The ease, the symmetry of this little creation. No ink splattered over the page.
And when it failed to work, one disposed of it!
I had to admit to myself that I always had trouble throwing away broken or dried up pens.
Dozens upon dozen of them littered the desk in my room. Finally, shaking myself back
into awareness, I swept my arm across the desk to clear it, set down my paper, and used
the pen for what it was intended.
By sunset I had the script prepared. It was a little rough around the edges, but I knew that
once the actors mastered their parts, it would be smoothed out. There was room for them
to use their own creative gifts within, and yet still remain true to the basic premise.
I laughed as I recalled the dramatic pieces I had written as a mortal, so very long ago. I
had published them, yet claimed that they were meant only to be read and not performed.
Ah, how young and vain I had been.
Perhaps some of that vanity remained, for I felt the work I now held in my hands was
damned good.
The play was titled “Death and Seduction.” I was to play Death, and Louis was to play the
hero, a tortured young man who must make moral...or immoral... choices in order to
preserve his own life and the life of the woman he loves. It was a tragedy of sorts, for the
girl died at the end by her lover’s hand so that he could then give himself to Death, who
triumphed over them both. Not a terribly ego-driven ending, was it? Ha.
The part of the girl would be played by my red-haired young female fledgling, the one who
I felt always with her eyes upon me, begging for my attention. She fancied herself in love
with me, and thought that I did not know.
I simply ignored her most of the time, but she was useful, and I fed her enough attention
to keep her devotion. That was all.
For it seemed I...could not spend enough time with Louis. There were not enough hours in
the night. I recognized the signs of my obsession, yet I plunged recklessly ahead.
Parts for the other vampires included displays of dramatics and actions which humans
would not have been able to perform, which would, I knew, dazzle and enchant the
crowds we would draw, but still be written off to special effects. Even if we were not to
blissfully murder onstage, the little theater would become a spider web, and those
spectators drawn to it would become those upon whom we could, after the show,
unmercifully feast upon.
When the sun set, I went to meet Louis and presented him with the play, explaining his
role to him.
I looked over each word he had put to paper...it seemed easy enough...nothing terribly
horrific, and the death scene would not include a mortal, but one of the cast members,
who I knew, would truly not die...that was what gave me my peace of mind as I read the
script.
“Yes...” I replied when I had finished, “This I can do...it looks like a fine story,
Santiago...you are very gifted...I would have liked to have seen the things you wrote as a
mortal man...”
I could not help but smirk at his words, even though the compliment touched me and
pleased me more greatly than I could ever admit.
"You can find them in any book store, if you know under which name to look," I replied
flippantly. "Although I don't much resemble my portraits anymore."
I paused. "I am glad you find it suitable. I realize that you have not acted upon the stage
before, so we shall have to work...very closely...on...sharpening your skills." I smiled, then
added heatedly, "We shall have to spend many nights together..."
of course...::well aware that there simply had to be more to it than what he revealed...but
since I could not imagine yet what it was, I wasn't going to spend the energy it required to
do so:: when shall we begin then?...and in sharpening my skills, as you say...is this to take
place before regular rehearsal even begins...or...during or after we practice each
night?...and I am already used to spending the majority of my nights with you...I have
done little else over the course of these months since we first began this project...
He was right, of course. I smiled. Then I laughed. "So many questions! One would think
you were eager to do this. And indeed, I hope you are. Come then, a simple walkthrough
of the script, before the others arrive and I assign their parts. I'll lead you through it. See,
here, open to the first page...I'll play the other parts to help you learn your role..."
I knew every word by heart, though I'd only just written it. And I was eager to see what
talent he might possess. If he had none...well, his face was still pretty enough to make of
him a star.
It was my turn to smile then...somehow it touched me to see his exuberance in
this...excited about doing something that could, provided it be done in proper form, bring
a certain joy to the mortal world...I walked to center stage, then turned as though I were
facing a real audience, with the script in hand, I began to read the lines for the character he
had created for me to play...projecting my voice in such a way so that it would carry
across the entire theatre and to the exit doors...surprised at the natural ability I seemed to
possess in both gesture and sound.
He surprised me, plain and simple. As he began to read the opening monologue, he placed
into it all of the emotion, the correct emphasis, the feelings which I had envisioned him
possessing...but thought I might have to coax out of him. Instead it was as if he had been
with me as I wrote it, knowing exactly what I meant, knowing the poetry in my...if I
indeed still possessed one...soul.
I quickly found myself enraptured by his performance. And when he finished reading that
first speech, I applauded.
I looked to him when I finished the final word of the first section, brought back to reality
by the sound of his applause.
“I have done well then?” I questioned softly, though the indication was there that I
had...for indeed, I felt each emotion, each word I had spoken...placing myself in the very
center of what I would be conveying to the patrons whose presence would be there
opening night...slipping into the skin easily of a character who had been given life merely
by his hand.
I nodded, overwhelmed, unable to speak for a moment. Then I shook it off without a
movement, became myself again, pushed aside the tremulous emotion he had awakened in
me and let only my delight and excitement at his ability remain. I moved slowly beside
him, began the speech which would belong to the red-haired vampiress, knowing that he
would handle the challenge of acting with ease....knowing that my choice in actors could
not have been better. What had begun as a practice in humiliation had resulted in a
tremendous gift...for the both of us.
I turned towards him as he stepped beside me, letting myself fall back into the scene with
ease, becoming the man I was to play, once again...my hand reached to touch his hair,
fingers caressing the strands gently as though belonging to the one who would be standing
before me that night...pulling him then into an embrace to rest my head atop his.
Collette, there are things you do not understand about me...for I do not understand them
in myself...it has been many nights now where one has appeared to me... who it is, I
cannot reveal to you...but something has awakened in me that I need to seek an answer
for...do not worry, my love...in the end, it will work out better for us...this is what I must
believe...I love you, dear lady...and we will be married...that you should not doubt...
Playing the part of Collette, the heroine, I melted into his embrace as the girl would do,
and replied:
I do not doubt you, my love. How can I, when you have never shown me anything but
kindness, but goodness, even when I know you were tortured by the ghosts of the past. But
we must put the past aside, Sebastian. We have only the future, now...
Of course, Sebastian and Collette had no future. She was doomed to die by his hand in the
consummation of Sebastian’s relationship with Death, the part I would play in the
production...
For a moment, I forgot. Perhaps he did, too. I don’t know. But we fell naturally into each
others’ arms as we spoke the lines.
Then, suddenly, the spell that my words had woven around us burst with the applause of
the five fledglings, who had strolled in during our torrid exchange.
Slowly I moved away from Louis and made a sweeping bow -- and if the sarcasm with
which the gesture was made showed, I did not care. I smiled sardonically.
“You see, my children, what a fine company of actors I have brought together. Now, your
parts--”
I passed out the scripts, shouted directions, conducted the rehearsal...and nights
passed...and I conducted many rehearsals. Louis performed admirably... he improved with
every run through of the show.
He embodied my hero perfectly.
And soon, we were ready. We were ready to open the show.
And so it was, a few nights before opening night, when the plan that had already been
devised well in advance, began to take form when Andrew, one of the fledglings
approached Santiago to put into motion the downfall of the one they had all been jealous
of from the beginning...Louis.
He had to make certain it was believeable enough. Not too hard a task he thought, being
that Louis himself provided him with the necessary information, without ever realizing he
had been overheard. All he had to do now was twist a few things here and there.
Gathering his courage and making sure he sounded confident enough in speech, he began.
"Master? I would like to have a few minutes of your time if I may. This concerns Louis
and I think there is something you should be aware of. His intentions are not as honest as
he is making them seem. I overheard him just the other night say to another that this has
all just been a plan to get you to trust him so that he could bring you down".
“Oh really?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
I didn’t believe him, but of course, a nagging doubt was raised at once.
“What do you know of what might have passed between Louis and myself?”
Immediately he became nervous, but forced to keep his tone steady. This had to be carried
out. "I heard him say that very long ago, he had gotten revenge on you and some others,
for killing his daughter. That he thought he had killed you along with the rest. And when
he found out that he hadn't, he was going to make sure that this time he would do it right."
Sounded good so far. "Then he said that was when he set out to gain your trust, to show
his remorse, and offer to help make a new theatre, since that was what was destroyed
before when he set fire to it. And that he thought this was a perfect cover." He watched
closely to see if it would have the desired effect. "Because as long as he provided the
money, did as you told him to do, and continued to act like he was truly sorry, even that
he cared about you, he would win. Because then you would in fact trust him."
The words seared my heart as viciously as fire. I shook my head, wanting to deny the
accusations. But...they reflected my deepest fears.
They rang true.
And if I were to go to him, to ask him if this were true, he would surely deny it.
Even that he cared about me...
What a fool I was, to think that maybe he was starting to care about me. Santiago, you
idiot, have you fallen in love with your enemy...your most hated enemy? Have you
forgiven him? Embraced him, even?
My hand tightened into a fist. I didn’t want to believe these accusations, but I did.
"Oh?" I said as coolly as I could manage...which really was not very coolly at all... "And
what exactly is he intending to do to me? And when does he plan to have his...revenge?"
He hid the smile well. It had worked. Feigning an expression of genuine concern, well
aware that his maker could not read his true thoughts, he placed a hand to his shoulder
and continued. "This he did not say Master. Only that it would be, in his words "soon". I
couldn't believe what I was hearing. I never thought he was that devious. He always
seemed so kind. So genuine."
“Indeed,” was the only word I could get out. I repeated it, more loudly. “Indeed! Well, my
dear boy, I thank you for this bit of information. Be ready, I may need you again. There
may be some...changes...to the script on opening night!”
"Of course" he answered, pleased with the outcome. "However you need me, I will be
ready."
I paused. I had to be sure this young one was telling the truth. “I must know exactly what
else was said. Did he mention the name of this...daughter? Or other details as to what
happened?”
For a moment, he almost panicked, thinking he had somehow failed. But no, it was natural
to question when one had placed their trust so fully in another, only to hear now that it
had been for nothing. Furrowing his brows, he brought a finger to his lips in mock
concentration. "Name of his daughter...Oh...yes...yes he did. Her name was...Claudia he
said...A vampire in the body of a five year old...And that he had met you after having
searched for others like them...That they both had come to Paris...And that it was through
you where he had met the one called...What was it?...Ah...Armand...that is what he had
said." He looked to him again, hoping that would seal Louis' fate.
“Armand. Yes, Armand. The one who really killed Claudia. The one who was both of our
LOVER!” I shouted. “The one he stole from me...the pair of them, scheming to make me
take the blame...”
I stopped. The fledgling did not need to hear this much. I turned to look at him, to gauge
his reaction to what I had recklessly thrown forth.
He couldn't help but be surprised by that, nor conceal it from his expression. Lover? How
interesting, he thought. Well, well, well. In any case, it seemed he had added the proper
fuel to the fire. And he had now gained more amunition. Seems his maker was as careless
as the raven haired innocent. "He...did not...mention...that this Armand had been the one
to kill her...In fact, he kept saying that it was you who did...Appears our "friend" schemes
even now to make you take the blame for that."
This was enough. I stormed off in search of the source of my irritation. I found Louis
alone in a small room in the top of the theatre, where he often spent time reading over the
script even though he had had his lines by heart within two days. I threw open the door,
nearly knocking it off its hinges and glared at him, my hands on my hips.
“It’s all a facade, isn’t it? It’s all a trick, meant to lure me into complacency so you can
finish the job? Do it right this time, isn’t that what you said, you deceitful thing! Don’t lie
to me, Louis. Andrew told me everything. It’s not over, is it? This is not meant to atone,
but to destroy. How are you planning to do it? Will you take my head? Or set the place on
fire?”
I spun around as the door flew open, startled by the sound it produced, the script nearly
falling from my hand. I saw the anger in his eyes, listened to the words of accusation,
completely lost to what he was saying to me. Facade? What was he talking about? I
suddenly felt like we were back at the beginning. Only this time his sense of control was
not in place as it had been before. I set the crumpled pages on the desk and stared at him
questioningly as I moved closer to him, not understanding in the slightest how Andrew could
have told him anything, when there was nothing I had said to bring this about. In contrast
to him, I was calm and quiet when I spoke.
"Santiago, I..I have no idea what it is that you are talking about..Of course its over..I don't
even think about it anymore..you yourself advised it...to just let it go so we could really
move on..and I have..All of this was done, hoping for atonement..I do not understand
where this is coming from.."
“You LIE!” I spat, even though I had known he would deny the accusations, and even
though I wanted to believe him. It would have been so much easier if he had calmly
accepted them, instead of looking at me with calm green eyes. I almost melted. I did not
want this to be happening. I did not want this to be true. And it hurt, more than it would
have had I not felt for him...
Oh, this descent into Hell will be the hardest landing ever, Santiago! Did you think that
someone like this could ever love someone like you?
Well, yes, I had thought that. I had thought that things had changed. But I was building
castles in the air. He had decieved me.
I backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling across the room with the force of
my blow.
“You are a true monster,” I said callously. “At least I do not pretend to be other than what
I am.”
I jumped at the outburst. No, I was not understanding any of this. It had all been going so
well up until this point. What was this Andrew trying to do? Clearly it had been lies he had
told to him. There was nothing I had said or done to warrant this. And I thought, here it
comes now, he will destroy you, and you are innocent. But what did happen, only a
moment later, I never expected. Nor did I see the raise of his hand before it happened. The
impact however, was felt strongly enough as I wound up at the other side of the room, my
face hot from the power of the strike. I pushed the hair from my face and looked to him in
pained disbelief. I couldn't believe he had done this to me.
"You would believe the words of one of them, over mine? I am not pretending anything
Santiago. I have no need to do it. I didn't have to come to you, offering to help. But I did.
I...wanted to. And now you say these things to me, that someone said to you...and they
aren't even true."
“I sincerely wish,” I said bitterly, “that you could prove this. But we shall see. We shall see
if you run, or if you try to take me. In fact-- I encourage you to do so!” I said vehemently.
“Go ahead, Louis de Pointe du Lac. You still blame me, don’t you? You knew it was
Armand, and yet you loved him anyway. You blame me.”
What was happening? None of it made any sense. "No..I...I don't. Why are you doing
this?" I rose from the floor, my eyes fixed to him, staring in confusion. Feeling the tears of
frustration beginning to form as I walked to him. "I am not going to run. Or...or try to
take you. Have I not proven enough, yet, that my motives are sincere? Have I not done, or
at least tried to do, everything you've asked of me thus far? he is the one lying to you. Not
me."
I wanted to believe him so much that I couldn’t. I simply could not accept it.
“The fledgling has no reason to lie to me. He knew...much,” I said gruffly. I could not
possibly admit that I might be wrong. I fully believed this accusation. Because I wanted so
badly for it to be false, I believed it.
Do something, anything, to prove me wrong, Louis!
I stood in silence, staring helplessly. What could I possibly say to him to prove something
I didn't know needed proving. Why couldn't he see it himself, the pain in my eyes, the
confusion, the genuine hurt at being accused of something I did not do?
"I..I don't know what to say to you...or how to prove to you that I am telling the truth.
But I am. I swear to you I am. I don't know why he is doing this. He is wrong. I would
never say or do anything against you. Not now."
I hit him again.
“No?”
There was an immense satisfaction in driving him back against the wall once more. In fact,
it was so sweet, that I wished to do it over and over, repeatedly, knowing that he would
take it all, that he would not fight back.
Or perhaps I hoped that he would. He had fought back once, hadn’t he?
This time, as I came against the wall, my head hit against it full force, hard enough that it
caused a sharp cry of pain to emit that echoed in the room. I could take no more of this.
"No" I answered softly, simply, fighting to hold back the tears. I stood once more, the
anger building from the frustration of not being able to make him see how wrong he was.
And he was that, so very wrong. Slowly I began to move past him, unable to look him in
the eye as I made my way to the door. But then I paused, nearly shoulder to shoulder with
him. Though I still kept my gaze locked to the floor, I turned my head slightly to the side,
whispering as I tried one final time "I have done...nothing." And then I left him there,
closing the door behind me much more calmly than he had opened it.
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