I am The Vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, an intense fire -- these things might destroy me, but then again, they might not.
I'm six feet tall, which was fairly impressive in the 1780s when I was a young mortal man. It's not bad now. I have thick blond hair, not quite shoulder length, and rather curly, which appears white under fluorescent light.
My eyes are gray, but they absorb the colours blue or violet easily from surfaces around them.
And I have a fairly short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well-shaped, but just a little too big for my face. My vampire nature reveals itself in extremely white and highly reflective skin that has to be powdered down for cameras of any kind. And if I'm starved for blood, I look like a perfect horror -- skin shrunken, veins like ropes over the contours of my bones. But I don't let that happen now. And the only consistent indication that I am not human is my fingernails. It's the same with all vampires. Our fingernails look like glass.I am an immortal. I will live forever. There are less than a handful of ways to kill me, and even those have failed in the past. I have no intention of going gently into that good night.I was a mortal once, centuries ago. I was made immortal by a madman. I thought it a curse; I abhorred it, shunning those I loved most for shame of my damnation. I played at being mortal, trying to recapture what I thought I lost. I donned my finest clothes and attended their glittering parties, inhaling the scent of their blood and sweat and perfume. But I was not of them. And I knew it. I no longer belonged to the mortal realm but I refused to become part of the Children of Darkness, hiding beneath Les Innocents in their filthy rags. I was an outsider, forever alone.As a mortal child I longed to be loved, to be noticed, to be known. Since my first moment on the stage at Renaud's I have basked in the worship of mortals, encouraged it. As an immortal...I long for the same. How can I not? It is who I am.
In San Francisco they worshipped me by the thousands, screaming, weeping, begging me to take them, to love them in return. And I do.Yes, worship me little mortals, for what else are you to do? I am your dream and your doom. I love your love. I cannot get enough of it. Your wistful thoughts and your screaming adoration. It is all as it should be."Caution, Lestat," Louis tells me. My dear, sweet, beautiful Louis. Sometimes I think I would spiral into madness without his soft words and sensual smile, so sad, so full of love. But there is little need for caution, and I would not practice it anyway. It is not in my nature to do so.This new millennium is the safest age in which to be a vampire. Nothing can harm us whether they know of us or not. They believe in the existence of vampires only in their movies and television shows and their fiction novels. It is a common "household" term, as they say.And so I come here to this virtual realm where I can proclaim the truth, "I am the Vampire Lestat," and no one will truly believe but that is irrelevant. They will love me just the same and that is all I require.I have come to terms with my Dark Gift, and I do consider it a gift now. Having tasted mortality again over a decade ago, I realize that I want not to be human but something more. Something that will live forever, that will not go gently into that good night.Perhaps that is why I come here where you will see me, perhaps talk to me, maybe even love me. Above all, you will remember me.
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