Murder By Death [Don]

[don]

OOC: Completely understandable. I had midterms before vacation. I'm so glad I'm done with them!

Wherever he went in this strange house, something seemed a little off. All unsettling, but refreshing. The mansion had an undertone of subtle evil, as if being inhabited by cruelty had changed it. Something hidden in the eyes. So deeply mischievous and secret, like the silence in an empty bedroom. He followed her into the family room, watching her silken movements and remembering how Elizabeth used to stride across the room when she rushed. Giselle and Elizabeth. To compare them would almost be obscene. Elizabeth had been so straightforward and frank, but Giselle held a mystery. A new mystery for a new world. It seemed suitable, and if nothing else, at least a new challenge.

Don smiled at himself. A challenge. How bored he must have become with existence. Why stick to one vampire when so many tempting females seemed to want him. But, he always thought this whenever a fascinating case came along. They all seemed the same to him now. All the young mortals wanted to fall in love and all the female vampires wanted a plaything. Don did not believe in love. He believed in strong and permanent lust. The thing felt by two mates often accompanied with conversation and outings. Something in Don’s mind reminded him of Elizabeth, and he ignored it. She drove him mad. He wished he could kill her and leave it at that, but she was stronger than any of the undead. A memory. A parasite living off its host.

“I heard you talking with them,” he said when she mentioned the mother and child. He never fed off children, and he did not feel ashamed to admit his conscious. He wondered sometimes if his vampire side only controlled half of his actions, like madness controls a sane person. Then other times he wondered if this was actually who he was, and he had just begun to explore it. Elizabeth would have told him philosophy had no proof. He remembered how he used to come home from the school where he taught and rage about one student or the other. Elizabeth would laugh at him, telling him that for a man who stressed being open-minded, he was very impatient.

“Elizabeth, young men are dangerous” Don said, stressing each word, “Ambition has to be guided or it will be wasted in the wrong place. I can not allow close-mindedness to create the illusion of open-mindedness. However one man re-phrases what his father told him, it is still just a repetition of the century before.”
Elizabeth leaned back as he leaned in, and stared wide eyed into the flaring intensity of his face. Sometimes he seemed to forget who he was talking to.
“They’re still young,” she said, moving away from his glare and into the kitchen. He followed her.
“Yes, but as I said, with youth comes dangerous ambition.”
She turned to him with a light smile and put a hand on his shoulder.
“And with age comes wisdom. It’s been repeated over and over again. You should concentrate on your job and not worry over their futures.”

Don shrugged it all away. The flashbacks came more and more often lately, as if something suddenly cut their binds. He woke up in the middle of the day, paranoid and claustrophobic, as if someone were sitting on his coffin.
“I don’t feed off of children,” he told his companion, sitting down next to her on the couch. He reached through a book on the table and leafed through it.
“You can if you’d like. But children’s blood does not satisfy me.”
He searched her face.
“Not much satisfies me lately.”

[Giselle Audley]

"Interesting, you don't have the strength to feed off young children. I can care less how old or young a mortal is, blood is blood. Blood is everything to a vampire and it is mostly to me. However, there are some things that are more important than blood. I have yet to find what that is but there has to be something. If it makes you feel any better I'll take the child in another room.” she paused for a moment

“You know, I've wanted a vampire child for sometime now. I know it's wrong to make one so young but it does get lonely here sometimes. Mortals are no company, simply a toy. If I ever made a child vampire for myself it would be female, a beautiful seven year old female who I could spoil, who I could teach, who would stay with me forever," Giselle fell silent after that.

The last time she had a companion he left her. Giselle really thought she found love but she only found what being a vampire meant, complete loneliness. Vampires would leave her, grow tired of her. A child would need her which was one of the reasons she wanted one so badly. She would have to treat the child right, one day she could snap, become worn of staying in such a young body and never be able to grow and experience the pleasures of life. She would have to get that vampire a sister or brother then.

She remembered the times she spent with "him" how handsome and alive he was. She thought she found the perfect man until he wanted to see the world. Giselle had forever to see the world but for now she was content in Paris. She examined Don. He was acting strange again with that far away look as if he remembered something like Giselle just did. If so then they were both heartbroken. Giselle missed "him" miserably and waited weeks for his return but he never came back. She moved on but couldn't get over it.

If a vampire wanted to know what her deal was she would tell them but they had to ask. Vampires deserved to know what happened when you tried to make others and when they fell in love. Nothing satisfied Don lately but a lot of things haven't satisfied Giselle for five years. "Is your heart still there or has it grown cold with hatred and was then ripped out?" Giselle wondered. She didn't know where her heart was anymore. She still loved "him" but she was impatient.

[don]

Don smiled at her demeaning comment.
“Do not be so eager to judge me,” he said, “A vampire who jumps to conclusions will slip up. You think you know about the vampire kind, but not all of us always kill with abandon, and it does not make us weak. It makes us careful. Blood may be blood, but being able to deny yourself that for the sake of a creature’s life, I view that as strength, not as a weakness. Kill who you wish, and in front of who you want to see it, but I choose not to feed on mortal children.”
Don paused. He searched his jacket for a packet of cigarettes. He only started smoking after James Dean became popular. He’d hang out on street corners, wearing leather jackets and smoking, hoping that some young woman would find him attractive enough to allow him a feed. It became a habit and one of the weakest parts of him, showing that he did not have the strength to stand against himself. But even if he did stop smoking, what did it matter? It wasn’t as if he could die twice.
In an inner pocket he found a crushed case of Marlboro Lights with a few cigarettes left. Old cigarettes. He found a few matches in the same pocket and lit one against the side of Giselle’s tea table, bringing it to the tip of the cigarette between his teeth. Leaning back into the corner of the couch, he sucked in on the cigarette, and relaxed.
“I do enjoy a good massacre though,” he said, letting the cigarette rest between his index and pointer finger. He licked his lips. Dry. Maybe if she took the child, he would feast off the woman. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and watched her through half closed eyes. Beautiful, sure, but as attune as his senses were, he still did not know her. He wanted to feel out this vampire. She intrigued him, but a part of him thought her ignorant, or maybe he expected too much. He fell silent for a moment, just looking at her.
“Why don’t you bring them down?” he suggested finally, “I could use a drink.”

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle listened, slightly wide-eyed as Don displayed such wisdom and knowledge. While Giselle only relied on strength and the phrase, "My opinion is law," Don backed himself up with experiences that Giselle never dreamed of before. Don was very smart with his wisdom but Giselle's strength was her wisdom in, "Bite tactics." Giselle chose not to reply to him, anything she would say after that would end up coming out wrong which would make herself sound a little stupid, and there would be none of that.

Giselle pushed an ash tray forward, "Unless you want to ground it out on your arm," she said with a half smile. She smoked, too but preferably not in this room. She enjoyed clean air even though she couldn't get cancer. Ah well, one cigarette wouldn't harm anything. Giselle didn't smoke to relax, she never seemed to do that anymore, instead she did it for the reason of looking cool, a good enough reason for her. When she wanted to relax she drank blood if she was in the mood which is mostly always.

Giselle obeyed Don's order and called the two humans down, the mother looked quite shaken up. "I-it was dark but I could have sworn I saw a b-body in the other room. I couldn't be sure but I didn't look any closer to find out," she stammered. "But of course it was a body! I’ll let you in on a secret. I killed him," she drew the last words out slowly for effect. The lady's face was drained of it's color and she dashed for the door.

"Go ahead, Don, you said you didn't want the child," Giselle said lazily.

[don]

Don twisted the cigarette-butt into the ash tray and waved the smoke away from its twisted body. It was the only flaw in this dead room. Beautiful, but dead, like vampires themselves. It seemed fitting that the person who owned the house should decorate it like that, but Don wondered if Giselle was as lonely as her house seemed to suggest. Don stood up from his seat as the woman and her daughter entered, the little girl held close to her mother. The woman darted for the door, curly blonde hair flying around her hair, and the child began to cry softly, cheeks going red as tears gathered in her scared eyes. Don ignored the little girl as he caught the woman before she could escape through the door. She collapsed into his arms, screaming and tearing at his clothing.
“Relax,” he said, grasping her wrists and twisting her around so her arms were trapped across her chest, “There is no need to hurt you if you stop struggling.”
She allowed him to take her to the couch, where he placed her between him and Giselle. He leaned forward and stressed each word so that she could hear him through her quite sobbing, her face buried into the back of the couch.
“Do not be so unhappy,” he said, wiping the curls from her tear-splashed face.
“Haven’t you ever heard this poem? Listen to me. I’ll recite it for you.
Before death, life is a seeker.
After death, the same life becomes a dreamer.
Before death, life struggles and strives for Perfection.
After death, the same life rests
and enjoys the divine Bliss with the soul.
Before death, life is God's Promise.
After death, life is God's inner Assurance.
This Assurance of God's we notice while we fulfill God in our future incarnation.
That was a poem written by Sri Chinmoy. Don’t you see? The greatest gift I can give you is death.”
Listening to him seemed to have calmed her down. Her cries turned into wet snivels and she looked up at Don with nervous eyes. Yes, he knew she was a religious woman by the rosary hanging from the pocket in her dress. He also knew that listening to a poem would calm her. Especially when it involved something she had such complete faith in. During Don’s lifetime he believed god was a possibility, but not an absolute truth, and after his first few years as a vampire, he decided god could not be real if creatures like him were allowed on earth. The concept of god sometimes helped him get a meal, so he was grateful to religion.
The woman allowed him to feed and he killed her gently, allowing her to slip into darkness without pain. Just as he had promised. Pushing the corpse onto the floor, he turned to the little girl and his mind almost deserted him. She looked so young and full of blood. He reached for her, but stopped himself, standing with frustration and leaving the room. The main hall surrounded him, cruel and limitless as he waited for Giselle to finish. He didn’t want to smell the blood. It would tempt him to join her, and take his control. He needed to be the master of his mind.

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle smiled wickedly as Don claimed his prey. She watched him as he calmed the foolish woman down. Giselle only listened to half the poem, for the child was throwing a fit. Giselle got up and sauntered over to the girl who remained in the corner, fearful for her mother’s well-being. Giselle sat on her knees and faced the child.

“Why are you crying, my precious?” she asked sweetly. The human flinched at the sound of her voice, but wailed, “That man is going to kill mama.” Giselle looked over at Don, the woman was no longer sobbing. “No, my dear. My friend just has to show your mother something, it seems that he has frightened her,” Giselle said. Her words rang truth in the child’s head, Giselle twisted her mind slightly.

The girl buried her face in Giselle’s shirt. With a grimace, Giselle placed a hand on her back. She glanced at the mirror above her and saw that Don had killed the woman. He paused in front of the small human, and then left the room. Grinning, Giselle new the girl tempted him. Giselle led the girl to the couch on the opposite side of the room, facing away from the corpse. She sat the human in her lap.

“Your mother has left this house, I will return you to her in a minute. Tell me, do you fear death?” the girl nodded her head. “I assume you haven’t been educated yet, it’s time for your first lesson,” Giselle said mostly to herself. The human sat up straight, the smell of her was maddening.

“Death is not something to be feared, my sweet. Death happens to everyone... one way or the other. Life is not important, it’s what happens after life that you really begin to start to learn,” Giselle said quickly, anxious for the sweet blood. What she did next was something she always did with her food, play with it. “I am an angel, sent from the heavens to tell you this. Heed my word.”

The girl looked at Giselle, startled first but then she accepted it. “I want to go home,” said her tiny voice. “I will allow you to go home now,” Giselle whispered in her ear, her eyes scanning wildly for a place in her neck. After finding a suitable spot, Giselle tore through the human’s flesh and drained her life source.

“Don, you may come in now,” Giselle called. “Help me with these corpses,” she added. Giselle grabbed the child and slung her over her shoulder.

[don]

Don fought back nausea at the sight of the limp little girl. She seemed even more fragile in death. More pathetic than ever. The epitome of human weakness. Don managed to over-ride his disgust, even as the child’s corpse was swung roughly over Giselle’s shoulder. As an example of his strong stomach, Don took the child from the vampire, and carried her outside, then went back in and picked the woman up from the floor. He discarded of her in the middle of the hall, like a garbage bag disposed of outside. She, after all, was a corpse. Without any spirit of meaning left. Simply an object that was no longer of any use. Don liked thinking of humans like this. It helped keep the vampire in and the conscience out. Vampires with consciences were complete bores. What is a lion who regrets killing his prey? Simply a sad case of phobia this, or phobia that. Some mental disease. Don laughed, thinking of applying such an ironically human characteristic to one of the walking dead. Yes, vampires with mental diseases. You could say Don himself were half mad. Don started to laugh, and soon it became hysterical, his deep laughter echoing throughout the mansion and his fangs bore in glee.
“Giselle,” he chuckled, entering the living room to rejoin his companion. “Have I ever told you how marvelous being a vampire is? Neither of us gives a damn, and look how funny the world becomes.” He took her hand, tracing her lifeline with the tip of a long finger.
“Looks like you’re going to be dead for a very long time,” he grinned. Oh yes, all of it was incredibly humorous. But you’d have to be alive as long as Don had in order to see it. Everything can seem ridiculous at one point, if you’ve seen it a million times.

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle stared as Don took the girl from Giselle's shoulder and got rid of both the corpses. Giselle's expression was of utter puzzlement. She was going to get rid of the small girl herself. Don was acting weird again, like he was only himself. A vampire like him had to be cracked down, get what's wrong with him out of him before it swallowed him whole. If there was one thing Giselle learned over the years it was to talk about your problems. If a vampire didn't, you found yourself in messy situations.

Don startled her by laughing uncontrollably. She could hear him out of the room, was he going mental? When he returned to her Giselle kept an eyebrow arched even as he grabbed her hand and explained himself. Her expression changed to acceptance of this behavior. Don was absolutely right... in his own way. Giselle detected a certain depth in what Don was saying. "Yes, Don, I am a vampire, I am dead, but I think you should sit down," Giselle said and sat down herself, yanking at his arm to sit beside her.

"Is something bothering you? Sometimes you seem distant and well -- if you trust someone it helps to talk" she advised him. "I mean, I'm not forcing you to tell me but you should really see someone. Don't you have a companion or anyone?" she asked, but then she narrowed her eyes. “You have been very strange this evening, now I deserve to be filled in. What happened before you met me?”

[don]

The light in the room seemed so brilliant now, the vampires’ faithful sun. In the human years, he loved the night, thinking it romantic and philosophical, as stories drew it as. But after night had become his day, he realized that it had no magic. It was common and meaningless. Years ago, when he had not quite faced the reality that he would never see Elizabeth again, he decided to face the sun. He fed deeply that night, getting drunk on sin, then went out on the patio as the sun rose. He felt the faint burning on his face and tried to bear the pain. He lifted his hand towards the mass of red sun and felt horrified by the smoking twisting up from his flesh. He fell back into his apartment, locked the windows, and disappeared into the darkness of his rooms. It was the last time he would see the sun.

He tended to forget things when he did something shameful. He’d push it back from his mind and hold it there until he could no longer feel the strain of hiding it. When it all came to close to popping up again, he would fall into a fit of nervous hysterics, and it would seem genuinely funny for a few blissful moment. Then, it would all fade away again, as it was doing now, and he would be left with a feeling of hollow disgust in his chest. In the room, all was silent. He could feel Giselle waiting for his response, and he went to his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered his last lay in the cigarette tray.

“You think I owe you an explanation,” he said, smiling dryly, “When we’ve only known eachother for this night? Whatever has caused this mess of a vampire in front of you is a result of many years of bad memories and regrets. It’s nothing that can be solved by sitting down with a shrink. I’m suffering from a kind of growing insanity, like a wooden building that rots before it topples. So, you’ll have to excuse the sudden hysterics. They come out, very often.” He stared into the corner of the room and was silent again, wishing his face was hidden in darkness. He didn’t like that Giselle was watching after one of his fits. He always looked tired and defeated. Too human.

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle expected nothing else. She did only know him one night. But if she could have found one vampire to talk to after the incident at the mansion, when she starved herself in the woods, she would have taken it. She would have even talked to a mortal! Never would she do that, they knew nothing! But she was so depressed then. She didn't care what she said to who just as long as she got it out.

Don didn't want to talk now. Fine. She knew that if he had something bottled up, it would never escape unless he wanted it to. It looked like he wanted to but didn't know how. It made Don and Giselle similar in a way. Giselle refused to see any more men, not again. She wouldn't let her big fat heart be torn apart ever again. She didn't want to seek a companion out of fear. She couldn't trust him. He would get tired of her eventually and flee.

Giselle had her own fits sometimes. When she was alone in her room and she was just thinking, she found blood tears staining her clothes. She didn't want to think about it, it just happened. After she cried herself to sleep, she usually wouldn't feed the next night. It was those nights that seemed the longest to her.

"It's fine, Don. It's just... if there's anything I've learned in nine years, it's to, and I know this sounds childish, just talk about your problems. It really does help and if I did it, I would be different today. What happened back then changed me completely," she said quietly.

[don]

Don shook his head.
“There’s no great secret I’m hiding. Sometimes I love being dead, but other times it comes to destroy me. What’s the point of talking about feelings? They evaporate in time.”
Don did not wholly believe his own words. If feelings faded after time, why did he still pine of lost loves? Or lost mortality? Don remembered the thirties, where he could get an easy feed from any woman in any jazz club in America. It had been so easy to kill in those early years, when no one cared if a black woman went missing, but the death of a white child achieved front page. Then, suddenly, he was jack the ripper, and every one was crying over the poor little boy who died so young. Strange how the improvements of the world made it harder for a vampire to survive, but at the same time, he wanted the challenges. Without them, he led a life of repetitive nights and lonely days in artificial light, making him feel cheap and dirty.
“But if I were to reveal anything that troubled me, I would come to you rather than anyone else. I don’t have anyone else.”
He felt strange telling her that, and experienced a shallow sense of guilt, as if he had just thrown himself into a black river. He had only known this woman for a few hours, but already he was declaring that she was his only companion. He felt like a child crying for his teddy bear, and it sent a deep shame through his stomach.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “It was inappropriate for me to say that.”

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle broke out into a sweat and nearly started hyperventilating.
He. Didn’t. Have. Anyone. He didn’t have anyone? He didn’t have anyone. He didn’t have anyone?
Wow. This was very big news to Giselle. They really did share something in common. They were both alone and without a companion. And Don considered Giselle his! She was excited, excited that she might have found someone! Wait, no. She didn’t. She was alone. But she could have a friend. Never a lover.

Giselle chewed her lip, suddenly nervous. She tied her hair up into a ponytail, suddenly hot, her face flushed. Don would come to her if he wanted to talk about something? HER? Giselle was bewildered. Never, would a man want to talk to her. Giselle insulted people! They didn’t really want to chat afterward. She didn’t insult Don... that was weird. She wasn’t being herself. This was bad.

“I’m sorry about that. I don’t get nervous often. You don’t have to apologize, no. That was the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me and it was just unexpected. I mean, sure, I get compliments a lot but no one really complimented on the actual me. And to be completely honest, you’re the only vampire who I’ve had a conversation with the longest and not on only about who you killed, how you did it and why it amused you.”

Wait. What was this? What was going on here? Was she actually falling for a man in one night? Impossible. How could she fall in love in one night? This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t have another companion. But just look at him! He had an award winning attitude and movie star good looks. Giselle was, in fact falling for him but she was in denial.

[don]

Don laughed, amused by Giselle’s nervousness. He liked this affect he had on her. It made him feel better than the usual reaction of fear or desire. He could not remember liking another vampire this honestly. There had been that vampire named Katherine a few years after he moved to Paris. She had a bold way about her that attracted him, but at the same time an impatience that made their relationship impossible. She laughed at his inability to forget, and in return, he laughed at her inability to change.
“You can’t be a bloodthirsty murderer all the time,” he told her, “We may be dead, but we do have living emotions. Feelings are not exclusive to mortals.”
But then Don continually contradicted himself, feeling shame when he felt guilt or compassion. At those times, he could not bare to kill and live with the knowledge that he had, while other times he could not believe he ever regretted it. As the years went by, the guilt began inconsistent and his natural desire for blood overcame him, torturing him less as the years went by. Katherine would have applauded the change in him, but then caused him agony when the madness finally caught up with him. A mortal slayer eventually ended his and Katherine’s relationship, although it could never have been considered a loyal commitment. He mourned her, but did not feel sorrow. Katherine was buried in a holy cemetery, her last ironic scar on the earth. If Don had ever believed in god, he would have thought it a good joke.
Every once in a while he brought roses to her gravestone, but he visited less and less as her emotional hold on him faded and he realized how bloody awful she had been. She used to have the most striking slanted, green eyes. She would have looked Egyptian if not for her pale skin. She nearly matched Giselle in beauty.
“Giselle,” Don said, “Go out with me next week. To a restaurant, or a club, or whatever you wish.” Don realized that most vampires did not formally date, but within the boredom, he wanted to experience something old made fresh. He used to go out with Elizabeth, but never actually dated a vampire.

[Giselle Audley]

Giselle's panic attack subsided and it turned to momentary complete happiness, and then it turned to sadness. He wanted to go out with her? That was so human! If he wanted to do something nice he could just bring her a ripe human, that would make her very happy. Still, a date did sound nice -- for two vampires who were actually happy together! Boy were they making the worst mistake of their lives. Everything would go downhill and then end with a horrifying crash the moment the man asked the woman vampire out. Could she do that to herself?

"Ok, a restaurant is fine," Giselle said dazed. She couldn't help herself that was for certain. She wanted anything to make Don stay in her life longer. He was strangely comforting. She knew she just got herself into another gruesome mess by accepting. But maybe she needed a night out with a vampire that didn't involve blood, except she like blood very much! She could feed before, she supposed. Giselle turned to Don still dazed. "What do we do now? I mean the sun is coming up. If you'd like a coffin or a bed or whatever you like to sleep in -- I usually turn in around this time," she said suddenly exhausted.

[don]

Don smiled at her, not with any particular feeling, but just content.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay awake through the day and leave at early night. Please feel free to sleep. I am happy to stay here and read.”
As if to prove his statement, he stood and picked a book from a book case, dusting its cover and opened it with a crack of the old bindings. She certainly had many treasures in this old house, and Don hadn’t had much time to read since he left his human life. The last book he read had something to do with Siddhartha Gautama and the life the author thought he had. How the author had known, Don did not know. Maybe he knew him personally, which now seemed more than possible. Don never met a vampire that old, but then again, he tended to be slightly anti-social.
He did not socialize with vampires. Or not usually. The last vampire he had a drink eventually had them thrown out of the bar. He didn’t quite recall her name, but remembered thinking it was beautiful. Giselle, on the other hand, was an unforgettable name. Easy to remember, but sweet to the ear.