Spec: "But I Have Promises to Keep"

Posted by Lillake on June 24, 1998 at 20:42:48:

Disclaimer: This is a non profit story, I do not own any of the characters.
It is for entertainment purposes only... etc. etc... that's all the
legalese I can handle for today ;)

This is a story of Gabrielle, taking a little repose from her wanderings in
remote areas to make certain Lestat has kept an old promise.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

A few strands of bright golden hair whipped around her still form. A light
fur cape was slung carelessly across her narrow shoulders, twisting in the
wind as wildly as her gleaming tresses. Gabrielle lifted her pale face to
the sky, the sparking white reflection of the stars danced in her blue
eyes. The mountains rose up around her in thunderous silence. There were no
mortals here, she doubted any had managed to set foot in this remote frozen
grave.
With a determined gleam in her eye, she began to walk through the snow; ice
clung to her well worn leather boots, drifts of the white stuff came up to
her waist, but it did not hinder her gait. Her cape caught in an impossibly
strong wind and was torn from her shoulders. It flapped frantically like
one of the magnificent birds of prey of Africa, she reflected, watching the
dark cloth drift and disappear into oblivion.
To Africa it was then, she missed the exotic sounds of the jungle, the
hidden dangers that were tucked away silently in each shadowy corner, the
massive ruins of unknown temples, the tribes that feared her. Her eyes
settled on the vast ice desert she had come to. The mountains, though
comforting in their silence, had given her time to reflect, she was
restless now.
She began skimming over the slick rocky terrain at an impossible clip,
moving quietly in the deep shadows of the mountains, darting glances to the
sky, picking out the stars she would follow that would lead her to her
beloved wild African jungle.

* * * *

She breathed in the heavy night air, shafts of moonlight seeped through the
thick foliage above her. Quietly she slipped towards crumbling ancient
ruins. She pressed her hand to a rock, it was as smooth and as cold as her
own skin, a part of her. She traced her fingertips across the rock, lips
moving inaudibly as she read the words that had been carved in stone
hundreds of years ago and then abandoned.
"The gods have punished us. We die now, two or three each night. A night
demon, the shamans say. The dead found -" she ripped away the thick vines
that covered the remainder of the message, "are pale, cold, with cuts in
the neck that do not bleed." There was a large space in the stone, of
markings worn away, but the message was clear at the end. "Be gone."
So another vampire had been in this jungle centuries ago. She reached out
tentatively with her mind, searching for another of her kind. Nothing. She
jumped easily over the stone and began walking through the remains of what
was once a city. Rocks and dirt continuously shifted, hissing quietly,
intermingling with the eerie shrieks of the jungle night. Gabrielle kicked
aide a skull that lay in her path, obviously another wanderer had been
here, not more than a hundred years ago, not a very lucky traveler at that.
The bone crumbled and clicked hollowly against the stone walkways.
She leapt down into an open hole in the walkway she followed. The dirt was
soft, it came up around her ankles, seeping into her boots. She pushed away
a large, sticky spiderŐs web and fell to her hands and knees, peering down
a dark underground passage. Without a moments hesitation she crawled down
the tunnel. The dirt was warm and yielding, it clung to her khaki shorts;
fine silver threads of broken spidersŐ webs adorned the shapeless hat she
wore, the empty husks of bugsŐ bodies danced like dark jewels in delicate
pale thread. Finally she came to a hollow room. She pushed herself to her
feet and walked towards the great stone coffin that lay in the center of
the vaulted hall. She glanced up, moonlight spilt through a hole in the
stone roof, at the base of the coffin lay a heap of ash in the outline of a
human body. Not human, vampire. Fool. The idiot made its lair right in the
center of the city. The silvery white light danced mockingly across the
features frozen ash, a look of terror imprinted in shallow markings over
what would have been the face.
She grimaced in disgust, pulling off her hat. She batted it against the
pile of dust. The creature fell in upon itself, ashes flew across the room
then settled like a fine shroud across the black earth. Gabrielle thought
she heard a sigh of relief, but that was impossible. The creature was dead
and had been for hundreds of years.
She spun around on her heel, glancing at the coffin. It was made of crude
stone. She pressed against the lid, pushing the stone with all her
strength. It rumbled in protest, but finally fell off with a dull ÔthudŐ
onto the ground. Inside, she found a piece of jewelry, she lifted it out
cautiously, holding it to the light. She felt a sudden pang of remembrance.
It looked like one of her grandmotherŐs jewels; a pale emerald set in white
gold, impossibly delicate. It caught the starlight, reflecting it back in a
myriad of luminescent colors, like the facets of LestatŐs eyes. A cold
feeling crept into her heart. Lestat. The name burned in her mind. Combined
with the memories the gem had brought back, she cringed, an unease settling
about her like a heavy shroud. She leapt out of the large room, through the
hole that had brought the sharp golden sunlight into the vampireŐs lair.
She clenched the jewel tightly in one hand, where would he be? It did not
matter, Lestat was not hard to find.
She journeyed northward until she came to Alexandria. She killed
ruthlessly, angered at being cornered in a city, nothing but buildings and
masses of people around her. She stole from her victims, then bought boat
fare that would take her to New Orleans. Lestat loved that lush and
decadent city. If he was not there, she would take up the search elsewhere.
Gabrielle felt choked and crowded on the boat, though she had the largest
suit. She loved wide open spaces, she had no patience for crowds.
New Orleans was crowded, full, dark, and dangerous. Like a man made African
jungle. Her sharp eyes glanced at a newspaper a boy held up; he screeched
the headlines at the top of his lungs. She had a sudden urge to rip out
those very lungs.. through his ribs in fact, but refrained from doing so.
1929 was the date in the corner of the ink smeared paper, its sloppy print
meaninglessly thrown on page after
page. She lifted her face back to the scene that surrounded her, it looked
horribly bleak in this once exotic city. There was a sense of... unease and
worry, everyone had the eyes of broken old men; hopeless, cynical, and
accepting the worst.
Wandering the streets, pale face hidden in the shadow of her large battered
hat, she reached out for Lestat. She wandered twisting paths, losing
herself among the dismal buildings, strange cars, and loud noises of the
city.
She looked up at a decaying building, the windows hollow, like eyes of the
dead, seeing nothing. Lestat, she knew inexplicably, was there. Alive, but
slumbering. He had gone into the earth, but not dead, not dead. That was
enough, the rest did not matter. Shoving her hands into her pockets she
moved carelessly through the nearby cemetery.
A man jumped out, a knife gleamed dimly. Her arm flashed out, a loud crack
echoed in the still quiet of the graveyard. He fell to the ground among the
stone markers, body bent at a strange angle. He looked like a childŐs
puppet who had been tossed carelessly to the ground, she reflected. The
metaphor amused her; she indulged herself a smile.
She thought of going back to Africa, but dismissed the thought, too many
boats in one year, she would return later. She looked into the sky, there
were no stars here, only a thick black, it smothered her the way everything
else about this city did.
Ice or tropics? North or South? She only knew she had to get out of
America, far from the large cities and miserable people.
South, she missed the tropics. She had spent enough time wandering sheer
cliffs of ice. She turned into the street. A carŐs horn blared at her, the
head lights flooded the dark road. She stepped to the side, pushed her arm
through an open window and pulled out the driver, tossing him aside against
a crumbling building. She slipped in the carŐs sleek leather embrace and
drove as fast as she could out of the damned city, back to her dark
jungles.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Again, any comments, criticism, and any wry remarks are welcome and greatly
appreciated.