Disclaimer: I own nothing. Author: Shay aka Flyer at ff.net Title: Darkest Desire Summary: Tracy's POV about being a vampire. Fits in with my other fics, but reading those aren't vital. AN: This is a little similar to stream of consciousness. As always, a stream of conscious fic has little rhyme or reason. I would recommend The Jilting of Granny Weatherall for outside reading and a closer looks at stream of conscious. I didn't do it perfect, but hopefully I won't be lynched for my efforts. :D Also, this is darker and Tracy will seem a little insane. I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own. Read and review if you are so inclined. I like hearing from you. Darkest Desire It was in his gaze that I found eternity. I remember seeing him for the first time. It was as if I were human again. And I realized that I need something else. Something that quickened my blood. Something…untouchable. Wouldn't you figure that being a vampire would already lend itself to dark desires and even darker pleasures? It reminds me of when I stood in front of Lacroix and demanded that he teach me the piano. Could I have learned on my own? Yes, yes I could have. But in this mind of mine I wished to vex him. At this time and age, it is indeed the little things in life that gives you a spark. When those little things fade, however, you burn. You look to other things. Destructive things. Broken things. Beautiful things. In my human life, I often scorned Vachon for his simple, little mistakes. Wouldn't you think that I would learn? Did I not already kill my love? One a vampire, the other my beloved human? But in these times, does your gaze not wander to the forbidden? Eve knew this lure. Centuries later, Lacroix would know it. And yet even more centuries, I would come to know it. I needed him. I needed to forever see his beautiful skin. Skin so smooth and smoky, that to gaze upon it is to gaze upon perfection. My very own Adonis. To feast of him and to partake of the carnal pleasures…oh how it sends delightful tremors through my being! I was so young. So naïve in these things. Nick taught me to feed, but Lacroix taught me the hunt. He taught me to revel in the kill. To revel in the dark pleasure itself. Can you not imagine? The bloodlust experienced, not in a frenzy of uncontrollable urges, but in the cold calculating manner of the hunter. Never killer, no, this is pure. It is simple. It is the hunt. This I felt no revulsion. I felt no loathing mixed with glee. This was not my first ill-fated bloodlust. This wasn't the control of the beast. This was me, Tracy. As a hunter. I feel its call. Do you? Does he? I love the call. The night. I no longer deny what it is in me to do. Does the lion think on his food? Does the deer fear? Is its heart pumping hard in exertion or terror? Can it understand its place? Do I? Ah! But to embrace the sun! My sun! What have I done? Is this my blood? Or maybe Vachon's? Or maybe his, my golden Adonis? Do I care? Is it even within me anymore? I was fooled. There was no eternity in his gaze. This ugly, this beautiful mortal. It was only a dream. Besides they tell me forever is overrated. Does a person know when the mind begins to fade? I remember what it is to love. To hold a warm hand in your own and only see tomorrow. I remember the name my human love, I have long wished it loosed from the bonds of my mind, John. Such a simple name. But wasn't John the most beloved of Jesus? A worthy name. I remember him saying to me long before his death: "Tell me of those before me." I believe it to be his way of forcing me to connect to him on a deeper level. But it was in vain for I remember my reply: "What others? Of whom do you speak? There are only you, only us, only this time." I willingly believe that he never suspected anything more, that he accepted my answer. However, some part of me knows that when I looked in his eyes it was dark with regret. Those eyes so unlike the lifeless ones I gaze into now. Those are my eyes. Maybe it will be my end. Perhaps Lacroix will join me for a time.