kimiko et wapi a écrit :fait donc les deux
On m'a dit de faire les deux alors moi je fais les deux... J'vais me faire taper dessus je le sens... J’avais dit que je mettrai quelque chose… Maintenant que j’y repense, je regrette un peu. J’ai un peu honte de montrer ça… Mais je n’ai qu’une parole.
Avertissement : ce sont des histoires de vampires
(plutôt fleurs bleues que gore les histoires & c’est beaucoup de description…) et c’est en anglais (enfin je pense que vous auriez remarqué de toute façon !) et j’ai écrit ça y’a longtemps
« Pardonnez-moi mon Dieu car j’ai … »
AVERTISSEMENT : C’EST LONG !!!
ESSAY 1 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a rainy night like many others in Paris. I was walking along the street. The moon was sparkling its silvery rays of light through a fragment of broken bottle.
I have been waiting him for my whole life and he was here… I had stopped walking in order to observe him moving. He was here with his nonchalant but distinguished bearing. He was coming up to me, my fallen angel. His skin was nearly fluorescent and his purple eyes penetrated my whole body. A smile lit up his face leaving his little fangs bare. Good evening my Beloved. His voice was taking part of my mind although he had not opened his mouth.
I felt that I was feverishly falling in his arms. My eyes blurred with tears when his sharp canines went through my throat to suck up my blood. It was swarms of fabulous pictures which spread through my head… Slowly I felt death come. My Dark Prince was killing me. When my eyes were finally closed I recognized a mild taste on my tongue.
Suddenly exhilaration began to run down my spine and I could not take my lips of the gaping wound on his wrist. I wallowed his blood.
I have been a vampire since this night when he gave me ‘the Dark Gift’. Night after night I have been travelling the length and breadth of the Earth with my fallen angel putting humans to death to wallow in blood. And when we saw dawn coming into view we buried ourselves in the bowels of the earth. We slept clasped in embrace waiting for the next sunset…
ESSAY 2 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am Lucas the vampire. Do you remember me? I was reborn to my dark existence in a small lane of Paris three hundred years ago. Since I was a bloodsucker, I have not seen life as before. It is evident I am not alive anymore… When I became the monster I am now I was twenty-three years old. Since that rainy night in 1700, when ‘the Dark Gift’ was given to me, I have been living a simple life. However I have acquired many powers. With the passing years I had enlarged my capacity to read humans thoughts and I learned how to fly and make wanderings out of my body. Now I can kill anybody just with my regard. I have the same powers as millenary children (the first vampires on Earth). Night after night I wallow in human blood, human blood which fills me with all those sensations I do not feel anymore. For three hundred years now only one thing has enabled me to remember my short human life. Let me talk about my first and only child…
It was in 1788, I was a young vampire – just eighty-eight years. I was in my native France at this time. On an autumn night while I was walking picturesque lanes near to the Bastille, something drew my attention. In this little paved street, under a heap of rubbishes which reflected luminosity of the moonlight a young boy was at the point of death. He should be eighteen. Despite the disease I guessed in this creature, his body was ravishing. I could only catch a glimpse of his skin between his yawning shirt, a velvety and attractive skin for my race. When I lift up his diseased corpse I saw his juvenile face and his eyes without any expression. The purity of his features and the rough of his complexion remind me of my younger brother. My younger brother had been carried off by plague even when he had four years old. The feelings of helplessness and distress overwhelmed me again. And this time the solution was evident, he was lying on my arms and I could bring him back to life if only I dared. Slowly I put my coat on this unfortunate boy, and take him away.
In the freshness of the night I flew with my gift from heaven in my arms. When we arrived at the gates of my vast property, the air was vibrating to the echoes of a nearby dawn. I put down my beloved on the bare grass close to a bougainvillea. I could hear his heart beat slowly. This rhythm filled my mind and soothed me like an agreeable music. Did I have the right to choose instead of him? I did not know anything on his life even enough his name. Give the Dark Gift, why not? I felt so lonely… Moreover I could not resist to this human being. His dark hair made contrast with the blond locks which cascaded along my shoulders. His skin tanned by many days below the Sun should Cain: two blood brother, or like an angel and a devil highlight the paleness of my complexion. If he became a child of gloom we should be like Abel and. I should be Pygmalion and he should be my creation. I could not let him die.
I was draining him all his last strengths as I wallowed in his succulent blood. When only few drops remained in his veins, I lent forward until my throat touched lightly his lips and I said silently to him to drink my blood. I realised that he was ravenous: he should be a good bloodsucker. I was obliged to reject him from my neck otherwise he would have bled me to death. After his complete transformation and the usual starts of the body when it declined, he opened his fabulous and crystalline eyes of vampire. Eyes such as I have never seen. Iridescent glints of gold were lighting up his iris, and behind his jet-black eyelashes I could see the heat of the thirst which consumed him. He did not understand what happened but dawn was coming and we had to take shelter else we would be burned by the sunrise. We went to my mansion and in the crypt I lay down with this frightened creature in my coffin. In fact, in those times I still believed it was vampires duty to sleep in coffins (what a hotchpotch of foolish beliefs).
When I opened my eyes, an agreeable warmth closed in on me. His dark hair were caressing my face and plunging me in a darkness denser than this of the coffin. I drag out of our case carefully. I went to the adjoining room to make a fire in the hearth and lit some candles. I heard his ear-splitting scream just before I could distinguish his pleasant shape in the doorway.
He was certainly scared by the paleness of his skin, the clarity of his voice, the development of his five senses as I have been scared when it happened to me. He went in the room turning upside down the table with his new strength and said to me: ‘What have you done with me? I am the devil personified! Look at those fangs, look at that skin! Look what you have made with me: a creature of hells!’. He was laughing in an insane laugh and he began to sob. He cried the disappearance of his human existence, he wanted to do justice to him. He had such a talent to play the tearful! He carried the grief as others carry the velvet; the sadness suited to his complexion as lights of candles; tears suited him as jewelleries. He paced to and fro like a caged animal. I grasped him by shoulders and immobilized him on the floor. He was crying and the tears of blood which flew out his eyes were terrifying him more. Finally I said: ‘Good evening. Now you are a child of night. You have to accustom to this new situation. In future, you shall wallow in blood and kill those human beings who you love so much. You are immortal and I would like you to be my mate for the eternity. My name is Lucas.’
That was the way I met Christopher. Unfortunately, he is not my mate anymore. I was young, I did not weigh the importance of my own words. I did not realise how eternity was long. In spite of this sad end I must say we have had a lot of good times. After taking advantage of the Revolution, when rebellions got people worked up and made chase simple, we emigrated to Great Britain.
We were in 1814. Fourteen years ago Great Britain and Northern Ireland have been joined to become the United Kingdom. England was still fighting against revolutionary and Napoleonic France. My native country was on the way to loose the war however Napoleon was an excellent general and incidentally a quite good emperor. Christopher was not preoccupied at all by this battle. He has accepted his new destiny and the only subject which found favour in his eyes was the Art. Prints of Rembrandt, plays of Shakespeare: all was captivating him. Westminster abbey which contained tombs of ancient kings: ‘This sanctuary struck me. What a nobility! This consistency… Look at the harmony of light supplies’ he said. In those times, great minds were not interested in the situation of poor, they did not help them at all. We looked like bourgeois with pants of velvet and shirt in flannel. We were merciless with our victims. We pursued unfortunate human beings till they shouted with anguish, imploring our clemency. Despite these fabulous moments, I felt that Christopher was more interesting in art than in blood. I thought he began to give way. His madness led us all over Europe. I wanted for my sad creature the most beautiful things. Thus we were pacing up and down the lanes of Rome to satisfy his thirst of knowledge. Saint Pierre basilica, painting of Botticelli, sculpture of Michel-Ange: such things those I have offered to him. We lived in a lovely condominium near the Piazza Navona. Christopher was staying long nights leaned against the window in order to observe. He made sketches of baroque architecture like Bernin’s fountain or Sainte Agnese church. I brought him young virgins and he did not set eyes on them: he was not attracted by their pure blood. With the passing months he was growing away from me and so the rare moments when we felt close were hours of hunt. It was by the love of blood that we could love each other.
We were both changing and I did not like it. I did not feel in his person the thirst of adventure which have seduced me up to then. He did not amusing me anymore nevertheless I loved him. My whole universe turned upside down when I decided to go through the Atlantic to discover the New World. He did not want to go with me, he preferred stay in Europe to learn how to become a good painter. An important discussion began and the tone was going up. I explained him that he was so ungrateful as Art. I was his mentor and he had to come with me. These arguments did not carry much weigh so I decided to attack his passion. If the admiration went with Death his pictures should not have any success. Immortality should be a handicap in some cases… He was shouting disarray when I was telling his few home truths and was destroying his dream. ‘You are not an human being anymore! You cannot live a life of human! You cannot make human things!’. He was hitting on the wall when I jumped by the window, knowing that I have abandoned one of the few people in the world who loved me. The sounds of his supplication was coming to me whereas I was far yet. ‘Don’t leave Lucas! Don’t leave me alone! Don’t leave me alone! I am damned…’
I have not seen Christopher since that painful night. Certainly he still ponder his lost dream and chiefly his cowardice. Maybe he still curse me, he do not accept my departure. When memories surfaced I cry and my own blood soiled my face. I am impatient to see again his fabulous green eyes. I know he will return to me, my creation. I wait, I have the eternity for this…