Hana & Lestat (Part One)
My fingers thrummed against the thin metal spiral that held together all the notes, sketches, rumors and clippings I have collected for a few years now. It all started with a myth, a myth that seemed too real to me, and I was out to prove it. As a child I was always told about the old vampire that lived in the mansion off St. Charles. He was a story to keep children from playing near the rotting building, to keep them from climbing out of their windows at night. My mother told me stories about him, old wives tales passed through the bayou about a handsome man that seemed to live in New Orleans for longer than normal folk! She said that he always favored fancy things; large houses, fancy clothes and pretty girls. But one day a horrible fire broke out in New Orleans and the people that lived near it claimed they could hear the Devil himself screaming back to Hell. That's when the real stories began to circulate. The citizens of New Orleans caught glimpses of a thin man that pulled people and animals from the streets to never be seen again. When the police couldn't catch the killer, people speculated that it was the Devil of New Orleans. They believed that the old vampire was seeking vengeance against the city for letting his house burn down with him in it.
I've lived in New Orleans my whole life and nothing has fascinated me more than this urban legend. It always felt so real to me, like maybe there really is a vampire hiding away in those spooky old mansions. So I started writing down all the rumors, legends and stories that the people I'd met would tell me about him. I kept a spiral bound notebook filled with these notes and my own sketches of what I thought the vampire would look like. I drew little pictures of bats, black cats and spiderwebs around the words when I spaced out. But now I've run out of stories. No new rumors. So I decided to seek him out myself and throw all caution to the wind. So there I was, just sitting in the back of a cab, watching the city of New Orleans zoom past me. I could faintly see my reflection in the window, catching glimpse of my dark brown hair gathered up in a messy ponytail and my dark eyes searching the streets with determination. As the cab drew closer to St. Charles, I pointed out one of the small houses a few blocks down on the corner. I didn't want to be a complete weirdo and tell the driver to drop me off in front of a rotting building.
After paying the driver and watching him speed off, I looked at the watch on my wrist to check the time. It was still twenty before eight, and the summer heat was beginning to fade away. A warm red light still filled most of the sky that wasn't obscured by the trees and houses, but it wouldn't be long before the street lights flickered to life. I took one more glimpse at the last few notes I had scribbled in my notebook with what little light I had. The supposed resting place of the vampire was somewhere off St. Charles, though many have claimed that the police have searched all abandoned mansions on that street. So the real resting place had to be close to St. Charles, but more hidden away. I placed my notebook back into the black satchel that hung around my torso. I usually don't carry it around with me, but I needed a few more supplies this time. My flashlight, extra batteries, pens, ID card, first aid kit, a hair brush, a small knife and the item I pulled out now, which was my WalkMan. I placed the headphones on my head and pressed play on my cassette. It was perfect for my walk down St. Charles. A passerby would simply think I was walking home after school or work. I looked calm and...well...as close to normal as I can be. A dark black blouse hung loosely off my shoulders and cascaded around me, my neck and wrists covered in cold silver with enough emblems to ward off any old church lady. My jeans were lightly tattered but still very comfortable and my shoes made little to no noise treading against the concrete sidewalk.
My eyes scanned up and down the street of St. Charles. The further down I went, the more abandoned buildings came in to view. I wandered through some of the back yards and gardens to catch any clues of supernatural activity. In the dark gardens, my hand slid into my back and brought out my small pocket knife in case I ran into any trouble, but I was a little shocked to find no evidence of anyone hiding out in these abandoned houses. I expected to see little campfires or litter from a homeless squatter...but nothing. I treaded all the way down St. Charles and began to make my way back up. It was getting darker and some of the street lamps along the street began to flicker alive, while others remained lifeless. Underneath one light that was flashing with difficulty I spotted a small trail that led between two of the mansions. I decided to take the little dark path and replaced the pocket knife in my hand with my flashlight. The little path went past both houses and went downhill through what looked like an overgrown garden, the path was even beginning to have little stone steps that seemed to show the way. But I was stopped short when the path was completely blocked by kudzu and thorn bushes. It would be far too much to cut through with my small knife, so I did the next best thing which was to use my flashlight to lift as much of it was I could and crawl my way underneath like a little rabbit, which was easy given my petite stature. But just as I was standing back up in a clearing, my flashlight slipped and the thorns slid across the back of my hand, leaving two thin red lines. I hissed softly but didn't want to waste my aid kit on two cuts that could have easily been paper cuts, not when I was this close.
I followed the stone path to a dilapidated mansion hidden away in the kudzu and woods. In the distance I could hear traffic horns and car engines speed by. It looked like no one had touched this place in decades. As I approached closer, I felt I had found the back way to this building, as there was one small door, nothing nearly as grand as I expected to find. I hesitantly tried to doorknob and my heart leapt from my chest as I felt it turn. It wasn't locked! I slowly opened the door and nearly screamed as the door snapped from its top hinges and nearly fell on me. I jumped inside quickly and left the door to swing open lazily. I performed a perimeter check in the first room with my flashlight. This place had definitely remained untouched for a long time. It looked like an old demo house from before the 1900s. Not one speck of the new digital age in the room. Hell, not even anything from the 70s or 50s. It felt like a rotting museum. I would have been more inclined to wander around the room if it weren't for the horrible stench of the place. It smelled fucking terrible, to put it bluntly. When my flashlight found a staircase that led upstairs, I saw where the smell came from. The stairwell was covered with dead rats on nearly every step. Some looked like mummified carcasses while others looked almost fresh.
I placed one foot on the first step of the stairs and applied a little weight to test the old wood and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard something move on the floor above me. My heart was beating so loud and fast. Maybe this really was it...I tread very carefully around the dead rats and held onto my flashlight for dear life. The stairs were creaking with every step and with every two or three slow steps I could hear another clatter or scrape on the floor above me. I'm sure the people in their cars in the distance could hear my heart beating out of my chest. But I was determined. I was far too close to quit now. When I reached the top floor, I was greeted by a hallway. Nearly all the doors were closed tight, except for the one closet to the staircase. A faint light emanated from the room and bled out into the dark hallway. I gripped my flashlight tighter and once again reached into my bag for my small pocket knife for safety as I slowly turned the corner to the room.
Inside the room I saw a large broken window which was pouring with light from a distant street light. The room at one point must have been a grand master bedroom, but now it was a dust riddled chaotic mess. The bed was rotting with tears and mildew, overturned tables and paper littered the floor. But I heard the scraping again, and this time it came from the window.
That's when I saw him for the first time.
He was literally a skeleton with scarred skin stretched around it. He clung to an old gray tattered blanket and his clothes were nearly rotting off of him. His hair was tinged yellow and filled with dust. He looked so frail and broken there underneath the window in his chair. But his eyes...his eyes were so bright that they seemed to emit their own light. His chair was an old leather desk chair on wheels, which explained the scraping I heard earlier...I guessed quietly that he was unable to stand on his own at this point.
"You'd leave now if you knew what was good for you". His voice cracked and screeched, like when you wake up from a long sleep with a dry mouth. He was eying me carefully, his feet steadying themselves on the floor, ready to either propel the chair towards me or away from me.
"And you'd let me stay if you knew what was good for you. I'm here to help you. I know who you are! I've heard so many stories about you..I-I...I can't believe you're actually real!", I couldn't mask my excitement. I felt myself trembling with excitement and perhaps a small amount of fear somewhere in the back of my mind. He seemed to arch an eyebrow at me and laugh softly to himself. Before he could deny my knowledge I replaced the pocket knife in my hand with my notebook. I began to slowly edge my way closer to him. His eyes were locked onto me and he looked like a hare caught in a hunter's trap. Giving plenty enough room between the two of us, I held out the notebook to him. "Go on, look at it. Its all stories about you! People have been talking about you for decades! Maybe even a century! You're...you're a damn legend!".
He quickly thumbed through my notebook, reading with a preternatural speed, stopping for a few moments at each slightly embarrassing sketch of mine. I laughed inside as I realized my drawings were far from the truth. The moment passed by with an awkward silence, only broken by the sound of pages turning, until finally he spoke again.
"Not all of these stories are about me, chere. But I'll gladly be the object of your obsession", he said softly, his eyes glinting at me. "I'm not the only vampire to ever live in New Orleans. Nor will I ever be the last, I suppose. Ahh, but I used to be such a striking figure! You wouldn't be able to refuse me, cherie. Not then. And I would have gladly taken you on my arm on a night like this."
I pushed a few stray strands of my hair behind my ear as I felt myself blush softly. I cleared my throat to break the silence and took one step closer. "What if I help you become your old self again? You need blood right? I can give that to you."
"You would truly want to help a monster like me?", his brow furrowed at me.
"You don't understand how long stories about you have been a part of my life. I used to be scared of you, but over the years I started to wonder what kind of person you actually are. I started to wonder if you were just as misunderstood as I am. But whatever, that doesn't matter, what does matter is that you're real! You're actually sitting in front of me! Let me help you, please."
"I don't need a child to worry about me." He tossed my notebook to my feet and turned away from me. "Go home, petite. There's no need for a pretty little girl to get hurt on my behalf".
I fumed and took a sharp breath. "You're right. I'm just a defenseless little girl. What could I possibly do?" I mocked as I felt my throat tighten. I quickly stomped my foot into the floorboards hard enough of send a plank of wood up in front to be hit by my fist and sent soaring past the vampire's face. He quickly turned back to face me once more.
"Look buddy, its a new century and women like me are a hella strong now. I'm not a pathetic little girl that's gonna go crying home. I can take damn good care of myself. Now I'm gonna leave and find some dinner for you, okay?". I turned quickly and lightly jogged out of the room and down the stairwell. I didn't look back at him then to see the look on his face, but I purposefully left my notebook to prove my return to him.
Once back on the streets, it didn't take me long at all to find a victim for my vampire. I couldn't just lure anyone over, so I decided to find someone that's done some sinnin' in his time. In a dimly lit backstreet I came across a man standing over a bonfire lit from a barrel. A cigarette limply hung from his lips as he watched me approach him. At first I thought he would be a mugger, someone that I could give chase to and lead him to falsely corner me in the vampire's place, but once I saw a flare in his eyes, I knew it would be a lot easier. He eyed me up and down like a predator. The closer I got, I saw him nearly lick his lips at my figure. I tried to play coy and approach him to ask for a cigarette and stand over the fire. We conversed for a moment and I tucked the cigarette he offered behind my ear. He looked at me curiously and questioned my motive for not smoking with him. I gave him a flirty reply, something I can't recall now, but the point was that I would smoke it after getting laid. He gave me a greasy smile and declared that he could help me with that. I raised my eyebrow at him and took him up on his offer, if he would follow me. And to my surprise, we got very close to the vampire's place before he questioned me on having to go so far and to such a creepy place, but I suppose he was just happy to watch my ass strut in front of him, leading the way. I quickly made a crude goth joke about myself as we ascended the stairs. He was starting to get worried once he saw the dead rats. But I quickly ran up the stairs and began to slide my blouse up my stomach, flashing my bra at him teasingly and ran a hand down to my jeans to temptingly tug them down to show him my panties that clung tightly to my hips. I bit my lip and laughed at him as he quickly ran up the stairs after me.
I made my way back to the vampire's room but stopped at the doorway and put my back against the wall behind the open door to hide. It didn't take him long to stumble into the room looking for me. But he was greeted by the vampire in the chair staring him down. He could barely let loose a confused question before I closed the door behind him and pushed him towards the vampire by the back of the neck. I threw him to his knees in front of the vampire with ease and pulled back his neck in offering. The vampire looked up at me almost longingly before quickly assaulting the man in front of him. The man struggled and clawed at the vampire's hair and face before limply falling to the floor. It was at this point I noticed my notebook was sitting in the vampire's lap, having been scooped from the floor. But my attention was quickly brought back to the vampire as I watched his appearance slowly change in front of me. His seemed to be full of new life. His hair flared with a bright yellow aura and his skin began to patch the scars and fill with color and weight. But his eyes seemed to get brighter and more blue with each second. He was moaning in what sounded like great pleasure and let his head fall back for a moment before chuckling deeply.
"I feel better already", his voice sounded so deep and rich now. He sat up after a moment and gave me a long look. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He was a completely different man! What was just a scarred skeleton was now a beautifully charming young gentleman. He seemed so much larger now as he finally stood from his chair, his clothes still a tattered mess around him. He was so much taller than me as he stood over me and offered my notebook to my hands.
"It will take a lot more blood for me to fully be myself again, but I trust you will be back for me tomorrow night?" He gave me a sly grin as I took the notebook from his hands but his hand quickly closed over my wrist. It was the hand that was scratched by the thorns earlier....I watched him carefully as he brought my hand to his lips and drew his tongue across the cuts slowly, as though he were savoring me. I shivered slightly at his touch. It was warmer than I expected and I couldn't decide what was more erotic, watching the tongue slither across my skin or the look on his face while he did it.
I left him not long after that. The night was growing short and I needed sleep. I hailed a late cab a few streets down and pried open my notebook to write down the events of the night before noticing writing that wasn't mine. On a fresh page written in beautiful calligraphy was a note from the vampire.
Mon cherie, you'll never know the pleasure it is to be in your presence. I greatly look forward to having you back with me night after night. There is much to be conversed between us and I look forward to every word. Please return to me just after sunset tomorrow, pet.
-Your obsession,
The Vampire Lestat de Lioncourt