disclaimers...not my characters, just a little, uh...constructive borrowing

spoilers....hmm..just iwtv i think

my notes...haven't done this in forever...eek!

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Once just could never have been enough. Lestat had to have his sin again and again-the betrayel of love and the expression of power. Those before him had all left their mark, unseen scars across his back. But damn, was he good at it.

Perfecting sin was not such a difficult task in some opinions, but this went beyond flawless. Never had such an image stood and drawn breath over such fine petals of lips, such unforgiving music made of an exhale that one's shivers were made concrete. Fingertips still possessed a soft he of the kiss, long delicate fingers, thin unmarred wrists. Such an understanding in the slight structure, the bone seeming to smile in recognition of a strangers adoration.

Time began to wear thin, ripples of transparency washed over the statuesque creature's body. The hand of addiction reached out, shaking, to hold onto this drug. As realization won out I drew the hand back to my trembling body, and sat, astonished and felt my eyes glaze over.

"Lestat....again....?" I murmured to the presence that still dominated the room. No, not again, but finally.

Not new.....but I shook my head, it seemed the plausible thing to do. I forced a lungful of fresh air into my lungs and brought the room back into focus. My eyes immediately set on a small, yellowed piece of paper. Slowly, I brought myself to my feet, and walked across the room on legs of rubber. Halfway there, balance eluded me and waving my arms wildly as I fought to regain it, I fell. Hard.

There was a lovely crack as my left shoulder popped out of the socket, accompained by a rich swirl of colors as my brain took the blunt of the shock. Hit by a rare wave of nausea but finding my sense of direction, I half-slithered, half-crawled over to the spot. Trying to read it caused my head and stomach to do another somersault and I was forced to close my eyes and rest my forehead on the cool marble floor.

Time passed, I am aware of that much, for the sky is several shades lighter than I remembered. The scrap of paper was underneath my right palm, waiting patiently to be read. One bold, dark word, written in small, carefully printed letters.

Paul.

Part 2

He was tall. His face was angled, his cheekbones stood out roughly colored by a flush of pink. A short, tousled mess of dee brown hair just covered his eyes, two cut garnets. Taking a closer look, they were merely a rich hazel, but the new color to his skin somehow relfected in them and harshly. And then meeting the watcher's gaze he smiled a brilliantly sharp smile, the two eye teeth seeming to confirm their little secret.

The onlookers gaze nervously flitted around the room, seeing everything but registering nothing. Unconciously he began biting his fingernails, wondering what made his heart race. This feeling was doing nothing for his good repor and snuffing out his air of confidence.

Knocking his chair over, he pushed his way out of the bar he had chosen for the reputation of sky-high prices, bumping into a young woman on the way and causing her to spill her martini down the front of her dress. Not sparing a moment to ogle or apologize he found a break in the crowd and dashed through, delievering himself a shock of night air.

Unease was just as strong on the street and walking hands in pockets down the block to his car he felt as if he was struggling against it. Heels clicking frantically on the pavement and several minutes from his mustang, he noticed a small disturbance in the air. Slowing his pace to skirt around the area, he saw the young man's eyes set aflame amidst a living canvas of marble. Backing away towards a "safe haven" a ghost of a smile appeared, rouged with blood and inviting enough to make on's steps falter.

Fairly taken with the miracle of this he sunk to his knees in the middle of the side walk, staring up in pure need at the now outlined form. The expression of the appearing face glared at the humbled vampire, sterile and untouched by this show. So clean and pure of reaction, this could only be death in guise to repay those who had endured.

But again the pink interruption of lips dominating the vision's face smiled, and knitting his eyebrows, shook his head. Such a movement caused the still air to shake, a wave of distortion touched them both and one word was borne into Marius's head.

Paul.

Part 3

Armand was the only one who could have guessed, this horror was signed with a name so familiar and versatile that it was virtually overlooked. Though the name was only this to a select few it was known by many, mortal and immortal alike, leaving a brand in each affected's mind to throb and bleed into one's thoughts at any given moment.

It came again several nights later...he was familiar and able to lift small details from the transparency and feel a sense of deja-vu. Lips, always the lips. Full and delicious, darkened through recent kill, curving into a smile that when studied didn't quite seem to be there. The small dimple on the right cheek confirmed it, that minor indentation. Purposeful in that in struck a cord and somehow he rememebered......something.

The half closed ees evoked a sense of ingenius and sharply blinked as if to keep you believing it. Eyes ringed with fire, flared by long dark lashes, increasing the purple tone of the lids--tiny capillaries alight with another's blood.

"Paul...."Armand said through a forced exhale. No voiced response was given. Slowly, the other tilted his head to the left, bringing a few loose strands of hair over his now raised eyebrows. He shrugged, a slight lifting of the shoulders and steady hands turning over to reveal empty palms.

There was no sound as Armand was approached, only a slight shock wore time thin and objects wove in and out of reality. Fascinated, he felt the room through sight and watched as two worlds briefly coincided. A coolness enveloped him as the epicenter reared until his limbs became righid with cold--the other had come and stood in front of him.

No breath pushed against his face, not a muscle twitched, neither eye blinked. Like facing a wax statre, he stood tense, exhaling in short ragged gasps expecting it to jump at him any second. Instead the lids closed over the unmoving eyes and the moistened lips parted gently. Bending his head to the side, he moved his mouth towards Armand's whose agonizing anticipation quivered in every length and sinew of his body. He craned his neck upwards to meet this ever closening touch.

Soft hair brushed against his cheek and forehead sending such a feeling through Armand that his own eyes closed and a premature sigh escaped his open lips. Presence came closer, still not contacting flesh on flesh. Those perfect lips grazed his ear, silky and damp and no longer uninvited. Two words he whispered chasing the chill from the room.

That moment the expectant eyes flew open t see he was poised to embrace the spot where lust was to have been. Words he had heard seconds before repeated, and became an abstract clue as to who that dimple just might belong.

"Another brother," he said and wondered that revenge, nobody's should be this sweet.

Part 4

A small golden ring, simply a band, clearly made ong ago but worn frequently. It was a bit thin on one side, as if something had rubbed it repeatedly, perhaps a nervous twitch. Judging by it's size, this had definitely belonged to a man.

When the new acquaintance had reappeared he again became the watcher, slowly becoming devoted to the one who had rendered him helpless on the street. A mind long ago trained remembered lines and shadows, angles, textures to recreate again and again. Though never before had he been so intent on a jawline, never quite appreciated it like this. With him it had always been the eyes and shoulders for attraction, something about how they were the essentials to the frame. They alone seemed to cast a sense of being, even wholeness as if this were enough for the spirit to be contained.

But now he longed to trace his finger along that defining bone, to touch the skin colored the same. It never would elude him again, but this one, this feeling was absolutely irriplaceable. The stramline reminded him of a pronounced shoulderblade, vainly straining against the flesh. And again gone, never really there....

He began suddenly to think back to a night that was two chairs marble floor and large open picture window. A discussion with Lestat who faced the night sky, he was the one in the light. Marius hiself reclined more in the shadows. Talking of....of people. Of the way Pandora had laughed, how Nicki's violin had cried. (now there was something, nicki) The way Lestat wen on about the multi-faceted look in his eyes when he played and how later wept when Marius had brought it to life. when their hands had clasped in understanding, one charcoal smudged the other...gold.

Coming back into himself, Marius realized his hand had been just as busy and frantic as his mind. Drawn roughly over a letter he had been writing was the long sweeping outline of the man, all grinning bone and eyes. Something scrawled lavishly in a hand that wasn't his----

paul, Paul, another----paul----brother,
finally, another one.....another!!

The pen fell out of hand as he caught a glimpse of gold. Curiously he picked up the small object that had caught the light, then his interest. Smiling strangely he slipped it on the index finger of his left hand. It was the ring from that night, the ring that Lestat had been wearing. The ring that had belonged to Nicki.

Part 5

Later that evening he knew it was a map. Where it led him was uncertain but he knew it had to be followed. What he had drawn atop what he had previously written named a spot he had once been to, for reasons he was none to proud of.

Following the curve of the shoulders, he knew it was direction--a river, a road, something. The eyes incircled certain letters, the left one spelling Armand, and this scared him. To think that he was imvolved and after calling and getting his story made him angry, why were their afflictions always shared?

Armand knew who it was...roughly and Marius thought he knew where he/they were. It was all on instinct, the how and the why were variables and so was the amount of trust each had loaned the other.
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The ground was dry, his throat was parched. It was fair enough to say that he had been kidnapped by his own lover, who now planned to kill him....only this time he actually believed he had gone perfectly mad.

The chains which encircled his wrists were some ridiculosly strong blend of metals, pewter being one of them, his skin was already a faint green. In turn, his bindings were bolted to a white washed brick building, the only thing that could really be seen for miles. Except for a small native american village off to his far left which was a spec even with his vision, he was lost somewhere in Arizona--at least that was his guess.

Normally, he might have been able to break the chains but even though the long cuts on his arms had healed he was still in great need of sustance. To weak to even call out with his mind he hung forward limp and lifeless as a marionette, stretching his 'strings' as far as they would reach.

His only link to the world now was the small constant red light. It was nearly a full moon, no lighting was required for the camcorder to pick up his every move. Only hoping those who watched the tape thought he had put on a good show as the sun camp up to end his life, he giggled in delirum as a sleek black porshe came tearing acros the desert, towards the prisoner. All Louis could do was sigh.

Part 6

"Louis....Louis, Louis, Louis.....now why won't you look at the camera?" Not raising his head he saw the black tips of his captor's shoes come into view. "Fine, ignore me, Armand and Marius are on their way--I had to give you a chance, for Lestat's sake. But in the meantime I brought you this," he said tossing a sheet of paper in Louis's direction.

It was old but carefully kept--he'd know, he'd been the one who'd saved it. An impeccable portrait of Claudia...he remembered her face when she'd seen it, even written a message and given it to him as though she somehow knew this would endure.

Dearest Louis ~ It was ashame about your brother. Love Claudia

He bit his lip and spat on it, this was not his picture, only a well made copy with mock message, one only the creator could appreciate.

"Oh, I thought it was cute, but......well, no matter--here comes the sun!" Now he lifted his gaze with difficulty the crapm in his neck and the approaching dawn helping things not in the least. Truthfully it *was* no matter as his body slumped and conciousness faded.
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Short on time Marius and Armand didn't make it that night and were forced down into the earth. First chance they got they continued to where the abstract map led them. Neither spoke and each were secretly glad their thoughts were truly their own as they tumbled the possibility of failure in their heads.

"Here," Marius said suddenly as a small white building came into view. The first thing they saw were the chains--easy enough for either of them to break. Then the video camera on it's tripod facing the wall. A sign saying 'take me, watch me' was taped to it.

As Armand wrestled with the tape Marius noticed the jumble of car tracks faint as the were. Another thing that caught his eye was the small pile of ash and the few long dark hairs around it.

"I got--"Armand started waving and then dropping the tape-a tear rolling down Marius's cheek as he himself choked back a sob.

Part 7

There really wasn't anything they could do, so they checked into a hotel and rented a VCR. After much silent staring at the tape, Marius pulled himslef from his chair and popped it in the machine, Armand not moving an inch. They shared a glance as they heard the power click on, the grief of each reflected in the other.

At first there was no picture, just a few muffled voices giving way to a steady shot of Louis chained and bleeding, so thin to make one think of Christ himself. The green eyes bored goles into their heads as his lips moved frantically showing a flash of teeth from time to time. Armand desperately fiddled with the volume, tossing the remote aside as a crude sign was held in front of the lense-----

documented SuSpenSe silent (nicki's debut)

That moment they noticably tensed as the sign slowly lowered revealing the face of Lestat. Something wasn't quite right with that smile but in this situation where was the justification of it when Louis was practically being crucified. A sudden glitch in the tape made Armand jump as Marius loudly sucked in a breath...the film was no longer constant, it had become a chain of pictures--taken at a ten minute interval Marius guessed. You couldn't help but be repulsed and in some cases have respect for the fact that the man behind the camera was so painfully aware at how much better this exhibited the deteoration of the drained vampire.

The wounds were healed in several frames and Lestat disappeared from view in several more. It was nearly heart wrenching as the tears kept marching down his face on and on, the time elapsed shots still hinted at how his body was racked with sobs. The sound cut back on and the camera rolled again at normal speed....you could hear him break down completely and shout. Incoherent words were answered by a deep throated laugh from behind--making Louis somehow stop choking on his tears but not from shaking.

"Please...pleaseplease why d-d-did you k-kill him-m...Paul, my P-Paul God...God, I sssshould have lis-s-end...h-he...he was p-push---ed..y-You pushed him...you k-kn--knew...your love-r love...l-l-l-lov...loved..."he sobbed before losing his composure again.

There the screen went black, then white, then it swung around to show the lightening sky and was returned to the tripod facing the wall. Here was a young girl chained....she had long black hair and was screaming as she began to burn. A fledgeling...new...not Louis's ashes, hers. They watched as the sun devoured her and embraced one another as the image went out.

A voice spoke through the blackness~~~

"But now where is he....."and it wasn't Lestat. Marius held Armand tighter.

Part 8

"Let me put it to you this way, you pose no threat to me," he snapped pacing back and forth in front of Louis.

"Then why do you chain me to the wall?"

"Why? Oh, I didn't approve of Lestat falling in love again but oh God do you look good--the chains are just more my thing."

"Oh....I see....."Louis murmured still unsure of how he wasn't a pile of ash in the desert.

"That's easy! The tape--all that wa just bait for Armand and Marius, no no they are to close to Lestat to get off scott free," he boasted tapping his fingers against his forehead frantically. He opened his mouth to say something else but instead walked over to Louis and placed a hand on each cheek. Raising the face to his own, he kissed it squarely on the mouth, smiling as he felt them crush against his teeth. "I killed Paul myself and after 200 odd years of Lestat being happy-I want another."

He pulled his hands back as though he'd been burnt, and smeared the sudden fall of tears away with rough fingers. Slowly he made a fist and began slamming in into his palm over and over, slumping down to sit in front of Louis. Moving his hands behind him he reclined back and flashed a sudden smile up at those green eyes.

"You know, I'm still jealous. He loves you now, I--well I've been "dead," he grinned making quotes with his fingers as he spat out the word dead, "I mean, I was just the self-destructive violinist burnt myself up and Hey! Look at Pointe du Lac, I can get a piece of that! It's not like Lestat cared or anything, he just uses you like he did me. No matter, now I'm using you.....only to get back at him." Louis's face fell...he had wept for Paul, Paul who he now knew was murdered...he began to shake with growing anger but he still didn't know why.

"Why? I killed Paul, but why? Oh--that was just pure fun! Just like taking Lestat's body is, I mean he's lying in that damned church...I've only been in Purgatory for a few centuries so while he's cavorting about I took it on loan. Just like in that book...Tale of the Body Theif right? I find that insulting!!! I've had this plan for how long and now I'm the copycat...oh well, if it gets the job done, yeah?"

"But--he came back...Sybelle..."

"The Apassionata bit, that was me," he chattered. Louis wondered how his way of speaking seemed so modern, and then how petty that thought was at a time like this. "I've been hanging around much to long," Nicki answered in a deeply accented voice but quickly changing back to "modern" speak, "and it's really much faster don't ask me how...and I appreciate a little pettyness, adds character."

"Marius and Armand are near," Louis began but he was cut off.

"That is why I am leaving, I've had some fun, but you haven't....when I was a vampire I lived but you are, well let's face it, pathetic! If you haven't lived how can I take it away from you? I could make Lestat suffer but you won't and you must--you stole him from me....but for now and imperfection." Standing again he pulled out a small sharp knife and removed Louis's left ear, a keepsake. He took a swallow of the blood that flowed from the room and Lestat's body went limp...he was furious. With himself for such and abrupt and unsatisfying ending, but he promised himself revenge and in a few ears time, he'd come back for it.

End