Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Author: Shay aka Flyer at ff.net
Title: Darkest Desire
Summary: Tracy's POV about being a vampire. Fits in with my other
fics, but reading those aren't vital.
AN: This is a little similar to stream of consciousness. As always,
a stream of conscious fic has little rhyme or reason. I would
recommend The Jilting of Granny Weatherall for outside reading and a
closer looks at stream of conscious. I didn't do it perfect, but
hopefully I won't be lynched for my efforts. :D Also, this is
darker and Tracy will seem a little insane. I have no beta, so all
mistakes are my own. Read and review if you are so inclined. I
like hearing from you.
Darkest Desire
It was in his gaze that I found eternity. I remember seeing him for
the first time. It was as if I were human again. And I realized
that I need something else. Something that quickened my blood.
Something…untouchable. Wouldn't you figure that being a
vampire
would already lend itself to dark desires and even darker
pleasures? It reminds me of when I stood in front of Lacroix and
demanded that he teach me the piano. Could I have learned on my
own? Yes, yes I could have. But in this mind of mine I wished to
vex him. At this time and age, it is indeed the little things in
life that gives you a spark. When those little things fade,
however, you burn. You look to other things. Destructive things.
Broken things. Beautiful things.
In my human life, I often scorned Vachon for his simple, little
mistakes. Wouldn't you think that I would learn? Did I not
already
kill my love? One a vampire, the other my beloved human? But in
these times, does your gaze not wander to the forbidden? Eve knew
this lure. Centuries later, Lacroix would know it. And yet even
more centuries, I would come to know it. I needed him. I needed to
forever see his beautiful skin. Skin so smooth and smoky, that to
gaze upon it is to gaze upon perfection. My very own Adonis. To
feast of him and to partake of the carnal pleasures…oh how it
sends
delightful tremors through my being! I was so young. So naïve in
these things.
Nick taught me to feed, but Lacroix taught me the hunt. He taught
me to revel in the kill. To revel in the dark pleasure itself. Can
you not imagine? The bloodlust experienced, not in a frenzy of
uncontrollable urges, but in the cold calculating manner of the
hunter. Never killer, no, this is pure. It is simple. It is the
hunt. This I felt no revulsion. I felt no loathing mixed with
glee. This was not my first ill-fated bloodlust. This wasn't
the
control of the beast. This was me, Tracy. As a hunter. I feel its
call. Do you? Does he? I love the call. The night. I no longer
deny what it is in me to do. Does the lion think on his food? Does
the deer fear? Is its heart pumping hard in exertion or terror?
Can it understand its place? Do I? Ah! But to embrace the sun!
My sun! What have I done? Is this my blood? Or maybe Vachon's?
Or maybe his, my golden Adonis? Do I care? Is it even within me
anymore? I was fooled. There was no eternity in his gaze. This
ugly, this beautiful mortal. It was only a dream. Besides they
tell me forever is overrated. Does a person know when the mind
begins to fade?
I remember what it is to love. To hold a warm hand in your own and
only see tomorrow. I remember the name my human love, I have long
wished it loosed from the bonds of my mind, John. Such a simple
name. But wasn't John the most beloved of Jesus? A worthy name.
I
remember him saying to me long before his death: "Tell me of
those
before me." I believe it to be his way of forcing me to connect
to
him on a deeper level. But it was in vain for I remember my
reply: "What others? Of whom do you speak? There are only you,
only us, only this time." I willingly believe that he never
suspected anything more, that he accepted my answer. However, some
part of me knows that when I looked in his eyes it was dark with
regret. Those eyes so unlike the lifeless ones I gaze into now.
Those are my eyes. Maybe it will be my end. Perhaps Lacroix will
join me for a time.
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