Ema Qoku, Period 6, 5/12/23

 Ema Qoku, Period 6, 5/12/2023

Modern Mythology 2023

Interview With the Vampire Fan Fiction

    My name is Lestat, or as some of you may know me, the inhumane monster that turned

Louis de Point du Lac into a vampire. Yes yes, I know I was a terrible mentor in the past, but I’ve

changed my ways, I promise. I’ve learned from the mistakes I made with Louis believe it or not.

    Louis was just irresistible. He was a challenge, a challenge I know I had the ability to

overcome, but deep down I knew I couldn’t change my poor Louis. He was so oblivious to the

new life we could have led, one full of happiness and love. The world was simply ours to

conquer, he just didn’t know it yet. He just had to leave me for Claudia. I was his maker, hers as

well, but he was her father more than anything. Her lover. He lusted over that “innocent” girl like

I never would have imagined, with her luscious curls and doll-like face. That wasn’t love that

was an obsession. It was my fault for turning that back-stabbing child in the first place, but I

wanted to give my Louis someone to have. I thought he’d change after drinking her almost

completely dry, but that was the triggering spark for what soon became a fiery love that moved

him so far away from me.

    Everyone holds sympathy for him, calling me a torturer, but I was preparing him for the

real world. There was always a method to my madness, but Louis refused to let go of the

human left in him. Actions have consequences, and the death of his beautiful Claudia was quite

the consequence. If he would’ve just listened to me she’d be alive. I’ll admit, I was quite the

harsh teacher, but with my new creation I’ve perfected my lessons.

    I found Raphael in Paris after I went looking for my Louis. He was tall with dark hair and

bright blue eyes, just my type, and I knew I had to have him. This is my chance at redemption, I

thought to myself, I have to create my new Louis. And that is exactly what I did. Raphael was

weak after suffering the tragic loss of his mother. She had passed in a house fire I may or may

not have accidentally started. I stooped down to Louis’ level after almost dying at the hands of

his precious daughter and was forced to eat rats. I was just looking for those dirty creatures in

the old home when she stumbled into the kitchen. She scared me half to death that old woman,

and on my way out I knocked over a candle. I’ll never forget Raphael’s face when he came

running out the front door, ash all over his face with trails of his sorrowful tears.

    I made it my mission to heal him. We all know vampires born from trauma are the best

kind; so willing to become an immortal creature seeking revenge or a sense of belonging. I

sensed his pain from miles away, and when I revealed myself to him he was practically begging

to become a vampire. He was a phoenix rising from the ashes when he turned, so elegant and

reborn, repurposed. He was so independent but knew he needed my guidance, so there I was

to guide.

    We started with the basics. I taught him to be sexual and stealthy, the perfect

combination to lure in your bait. He moved swiftly with grace, and his victims practically floated

into the palm of his hand. With the looks of Louis and the charm of the irresistible Lestat,

Raphael quickly became a magnet. I couldn’t help but succumb to his wishes when he begged

to visit Europe. Hearing of the vampires in Paris inspired him; his heart grew with unfulfillable

desire. I couldn’t wait to let him loose around the world.

    When we arrived in Paris we made sure to stay clear of other vampires. The way

Raphael concealed himself was a work of art crafted by the hands of Picasso himself. I taught

my boy well. It is much easier to be a good teacher when you have an amazing student. He

wasn’t stubborn like Louis. Raphael knew what he was and he made being immortal a need, not

a want. I never forced him the way I forced Louis, for he was simply a natural. I was gentler,

guiding him through the world with such elegance. I taught him not to be attached to his victims,

and to never stoop so low as to eating rats, and he always listened.

    Things were more difficult at times, though. With new technology emerging, news of

vampires in Paris spread like wildfire. Raphael and I hid in plain sight, however. We toured

France in our vampire “costumes” and held streetside shows after dusk. We never killed our

volunteers so other vampires wouldn’t be able to tell we were of their kind. We were a big hit

and became somewhat viral, but Raphael grew tired of the spotlight, yearning for his old life of

killing humans with no attention, so we staged the biggest performance yet; his death.

    We were approached by a big fan one night, a young boy seeking the approval of his

idols. When we told us he wanted to be a real vampire like us one day, I saw the lightbulb turn

on in Raphael’s head. He approached the boy’s parents and asked if they would be okay with

their son participating in our next show. After begging for their permission, they finally gave in,

and the body jumped up and down with excitement.

    The next night we brought him to our dressing room to prepare for the show. Raphael

bent over and asked how he would like it if he were a real vampire, fascinating the boy with the

idea of endless fun. Before the boy could answer, Raphael struck him with his teeth on his side,

covering his mouth to conceal his cries. He fed him his blood and I almost wept tears of joy.

Raphael was growing up to be a fine man. After the boy turned, we revealed our grand plan.

The boy would bite Raphael at the show and drink his blood. What better way to kill a pretend

vampire than with a real one?

    The show started and we started with our usual song and dance, our little play flowing

beautifully, but not more beautiful than the sounds of the screams of our audience when

Raphael was bit. His blood painted a mural onto the pavement, and the true actor in me

emerged when I ran off with his lifeless body soaked in my tears. To this day I wonder what

happened to the boy. I hope he ran away, but Rapheal’s desire to live a secluded life was more

important than anything.

    That night we went home to Louisiana by ship, the only time Raphael was ordered to eat

rats. Our plan was executed flawlessly like the shows we used to perform. We feasted on the

lives of young men and women to celebrate our great victory, toasting wine glasses full of blood

in honor of the little boy. I cherish this moment every day, because I know Raphael will leave me

soon. They all do. I feel almost as drained of life as our victims at the mere thought of us

parting, but I know it is our destiny. Raphael will become one of the greats. And once he does, I

will find that boy and teach him the way I taught my Raphael, with the skills that turned this

young man into a masterpiece.