Sixth
Is there anyone here who would like to meet to tell me their stories on camera? Any story, how you came here, what your life is like. It can be as inane as you would like, only satisfy my curiosity.
Private
I am humiliated again.
Lestat would probably have woken a wolf and gone out to enjoy the night with an animal's senses. Marius would have found himself an eagle and still retained the strength of mind to push aside his coffin lid and come out into the world. Even Daniel, my Daniel, would have been a scent hound and lost himself in the new world opened to him.
I...
I woke different for the first time in over five hundred years and I broke. Five hundred years of nights I have woken from the day's oppression to find my hair ever so, my body ever the same, my fingernails always as they were the last time that Marius tended to me knowing that I would spend eternity with any imperfection he did not take away.
Ah, but I do not tolerate change well. It has always been so.
And what am I to glean from the form thrust upon me? I picture Lestat and Marius and Daniel and I see predators of one form or another, regardless of how humble.
But I?
Something that people look upon and want to touch, only to find claws in their flesh? Some mismade creature that hides an ill-temper behind an appearance of harmlessness and approachability?
Of all the things that I will remember of that night, I will keep the memory of Daniel's face before he started to laugh. Some things are not gone between us yet.
Private
I am humiliated again.
Lestat would probably have woken a wolf and gone out to enjoy the night with an animal's senses. Marius would have found himself an eagle and still retained the strength of mind to push aside his coffin lid and come out into the world. Even Daniel, my Daniel, would have been a scent hound and lost himself in the new world opened to him.
I...
I woke different for the first time in over five hundred years and I broke. Five hundred years of nights I have woken from the day's oppression to find my hair ever so, my body ever the same, my fingernails always as they were the last time that Marius tended to me knowing that I would spend eternity with any imperfection he did not take away.
Ah, but I do not tolerate change well. It has always been so.
And what am I to glean from the form thrust upon me? I picture Lestat and Marius and Daniel and I see predators of one form or another, regardless of how humble.
But I?
Something that people look upon and want to touch, only to find claws in their flesh? Some mismade creature that hides an ill-temper behind an appearance of harmlessness and approachability?
Of all the things that I will remember of that night, I will keep the memory of Daniel's face before he started to laugh. Some things are not gone between us yet.