Tell Me - a short description by Nadejda Neklioudova, on October 28, 2000.
Written from Alucard's point of view, perhaps directed to Maria…
Tell me when the night begins.
Does the cool breeze from its slowly, silently unfurling wings first reach and caress your sensitive face when the sun drowns slowly beneath the horizon? Or perhaps you can feel its shadowy breath when the tiny crescent of the Evening Star follows the sun in its suicide. When tiny lights, both an eternity away in the sky and a hand's reach away in the damp grass, feel they need their luminescence to help them see their way - do you begin to realize that your eyes, so accustomed to the daylight, are failing you? Do you wish you could become a creature of the night then? They surround you, with their reflective eyes glowing their curiosity at the newcomer, with their silent footfalls and unheard wing-flaps. They serenade you with their symphony of the night - and yet, perhaps they are entirely ignorant of you, perhaps it is the frigid moonlight that mirrors in their eyes, and its cold embrace that they sing so tenderly about. Perhaps you are not there at all.
Tell me how you see the night.
Do you see her as a beautiful but distant creature, without shape or form, yet with an intangible soul? Do you see her as a lonely spirit wandering in the moonlight? Do you see her as the sun's murderer, or his mother who sings nightingale lullabies to him while waiting for him to rise and shine the next day? Do you see her as the thankless weaver of a glittering tapestry that the sun extinguishes and destroys every morning? Perhaps you see her as a witch, her eyes twinkling with malice, her creatures materializing out of the bushes just to startle you? Perhaps you see her as the creator or fears, or fear itself - perhaps it is she that chases you to the safety of your home and the light of your fireplace. Perhaps you see her as the home of all things alienated by sunlight, all creatures mystic and wonderful, yet wandering in misery. Perhaps you see me in the moonlight, my face turned toward it in reverence, my eyes hiding from yours. Perhaps you see the night as a shadow of the day. Perhaps you see shadows of yourself.
Tell me how you see me.
Do you see me as the embodiment of mystery that gained shape, rising from the shadows of day? Do you feel me as a ghostly moonlight mist seeping through the frigid air, shapeless yet existing beyond doubt? Or perhaps you saw me as a creature of the night, with the sky crescent in my inhuman eyes, guiding me softly, soundlessly to my destination. Do you see where I prowl? Maybe you saw me momentarily hiding the starlight in the skies, casting my tiny shadow across your face. Can you tell where I darted off and disappeared? Or perhaps you see me as you want to see me - human, yet never like you. Do you see how cold my skin is, how pale my eyes? Do you see the white curls of my hair streaming through the air like myriads of spider-webs on a warm autumn evening? Do you see the sharpness of my fangs, or the gleam of moonlight upon the steel of my blade? You have never seen me in a mirror, because you have never seen me. You want to see me like yourself, yet I am only half of that. I am also half Death.
Tell me how you think of me.
You have never seen me take away the fluid warmth of someone's life. You have never seen scarlet drops trickle over my pale lips - and you have never seen my own tears mingle with those drops. You have never thought I would have the soul to cry when I prolong my existence. You have not seen me exist over endless centuries, asleep as if dead, away from all life, even my own. You have never felt my curse. You have never seen a shadow of an emotion flit across my face, you have never heard my voice be anything but cold and even. Because even I have not seen my face in a mirror, and even I have not heard my own voice falter. You have never seen the shadows of my soul. Neither have I.
Now tell me - do you want to know the night? Do you want to know me? Do you want to spend the moonlit hours with me? Do you want to wait for me to rise from my death-like sleep? Do you want to hear my heart beating?
Tell me, what does your heart sound like?
Tell me what life is like. Tell me if life will accept me.
Tell me if you want me to share it with you.