Date: Tue, 19 Mar 1996 01:47:53 -0600 From: The Other Immortal Subject: "Autumn", 1/5 This being my first piece of fanfic (and the first serious writing I've done in a long time), please excuse me if I'm a little rusty or hesitant. In addition, the subject matter is a bit odd (you have been warned). Before I wrote this (and the other stories I've posted already) I didn't realise exactly how much of a romantic I am. Scary, huh? This from someone who prefers anime and Roddy MacDowall to "mush". Well, I'll live. I'll admit I did minimal homework on melanoma for this, but I think it's pretty accurate. Thank the _Merck Manual_ for that one. Usual bit here, I don't mean any copyright infraction, blah, blah, blah, etc. LaCroix and Janette were not my creations (sniff), but the other character was (sorta). Now, I'll get on with it already. "Autumn" Susan Schaefer Cousin "Susan" Phoenix copyright 1996 S. Schaefer She gazed into the red, rich pool before her. A finger, dipped idly, wrinkled it like skin alive too long. Sigh. The wine was sucked from her hand by a mouth too still to be human. Then again, she hadn't really thought of herself as fully human for a long time. Alone at the bar, Aki sat. Aki was not her real name, but it was more appropriate than... She gulped the drink, it's sweet elixir curdling sour on her dying tongue. No one took much notice of her. She didn't want them to. The Raven pulsed with a dark beat. Sensual. More than sensual. Neon flashed, people danced. No attention was paid to a little fat girl. She didn't want attention. Aki wore black, as always, maybe an ankh or six. Blood hair, jade eyes, devil's mark marring the pale skin of her neck. A few hundred years ago she'd have been executed as a witch. But this was now. The mark was doing the job for the past. From his glass chamber, someone watched her, just as he had for the past months. She always cams in just after twilight, he had noted, shrouded in pure black. Tonight it was a low-necked velvet dress; it showed perfectly the cancer which brought her here. Oh, she had visited Raven before it. He remembered when she had started showing up two years ago, about the time Janette had sold him the place. he had watched the mole appear, grow, turn ugly and fester, creeping ever closer to that mysterious brain. She should be dead. That is, if she were a simple, weak mortal. But no mere mortal... No mere mortal could have taken her fate with such dignity. The one time they had spoken, more than a year ago when her disease was in its infancy, he had been impressed by how clear her view of life, the world, was. A single glance into those eyes of hers and one felt the power of a woman older than time itself. A few fleeting words, a bit of Nightcrawler-esque debate, and something hit him. He always watched for her now. Someday she would stop coming. He watched her take a sip of the Burgundy she always ordered, take a deep breath. Beautiful. Like an erotic painting: the deep jet of the velvet as it hung from her Rubenesque form, the wine deepening the red of her lips, short hair curling around her face. Aki. Dark Venus-- Slowly, she turned her head. Eyes locked. Subtly her expression changed. _I know what you are_, it said. _Are you ready?_ The two of them continued to stare, strength on strength, the dying and the dead.. So strange, to see a mirror of himself in one preyed upon by her own body. He would have guessed her hunter. A light flashed on inside the booth and he broke the bind. On the table in front of him lay a single wilting rose and a choker of black pearls. The dying and the dead. And the more beauty lay in the dead. It was time to become the Nightcrawler, once again. "Dear friends, what fickle force is it which makes the hunter and the prey?..." Absinthe would help, more than plain wine. Wormwood to kill the pain, wormwood to numb the body. Wormwood to free the mind. For the last hour (though probably more) Aki had simple been. She no longer controlled her thoughts, and they came to rest on absinthe. And beautiful LaCroix. Lucien LaCroix. The Light of the Crux. Her illumination at the crossroads, perhaps? Perhaps... Behing her, others laughed and talked and danced and kissed and drank and pushed their pain down to tear away at their souls. Cattle. Cattle! Stupid, sad, self-deceptive cattle. Thought they were going to live forever, thought that everything would be good if they were only "perfect". Silly little boys and girls. Need to learn that with good always comes a giant dose of bad. Absinthe... Suddenly a hand brushed lightly on the bare back of her neck. Cool, sensuous, she followed where it moved. Next to her sat a tall, pale man, a sword at his throat. Illumination. "My dear, I have what it is you seek." He spoke more than the words. Cousin "Susan" Phoenix phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein "Autumn" copyright 1996 S. Schaefer 2/5 Her expression didn't change. Not literally, but tensed muscles relaxed. Such strength in her, though. He hadn't realized the strain on her face before. Now, softer, paler, he saw how full were the cherry lips, how large the exotic eyes, how translucent the skin. She took his cool hand in her small one. He led her, quietly, to his private rooms. Lucien directed her to a large, black-silk covered chair. She gratefully sat, leaned back, eyes shut in her relative bliss. In a few moments he had turned on the stereo, dripped a liquid which matched her eyes over a sugar cube and into a tiny golden cup. Beethoven was soft in the air as Aki took the illegal stuff. Absinthe. Lucien watched as she savored the bitter stuff, wormwood-soaked cube first. She breathed slowly and deeply. The cut of her dress allowed full breasts to arch over the neck. Blue veins were visible through thin skin, almost like tissue paper. A few dark moles somehow enhanced the pristine effect. His fangs involuntarily darted a moment from their sheaths. Dark Venus, perfect for her flaws. She finished the liqueur. It ran hot through her body, burning away the pain. Aki looked up from the gilded cup. He was watching her. She felt drawn into those blue-grey eyes, into the shifting seas of time. _So old_, the thought, and the words, were reflexive. "Yes, my dear," came the velvet reply. "You find it intriguing." The way he spoke, it sent shivers of joy through her nerves. Very slightly she felt her breasts swell through the cloth of her bodice. To her delight he continued. "You know what I am, more or less. I should kill you for that." "You won't." "Oh, and how can you be so sure?" He sat back on a leather sofa, stared at her through steepled fingers, a sly-yet-comfortable look on his face. "I'm not dead yet, as far as I know. I doubt you're waiting for me to do it myself." The absinthe truly began to work. She felt like her body was floating away somewhere; her mind opened like a rose. In a way it excited her. Almost as much as Lucien. Her blood was flowing fast now, he could see. It ran like the prey terrified and like the hunter closing in. Cheeks before deathly turned a red as lustrous as the lips. Absinthe-green fire sparked Aki's eyes; the fantastically long lashes, instead of dimming the flame, intensified it. Lucien reached for two small bags on the table next to him. One was long, narrow, a bloody velvet; the other was smaller, black leather. He removed the contents. From the velvet one he took a ruined red rose, leather gave forth black pearls. He let the pearls run between his fingers, catching them before they fell. Their dark luminosity glittered with dim lights. The rose, the rose he simply held. "I would like it very much if you would sit with me, my dear. I have a gift for you." Aki nodded, but advanced with studious caution. Feline she was, a goddess of smooth movement and swaying night. Dignity held her in its commanding grasp, sensuality held dignity. She sat a few inches from him with a gentle poise he had rarely seen for centuries. Her eyes darted over the objects in Lucien's hands. He held them out to her. "Which do you prefer?" A weeping rose. A strand of shimmering dark oyster fruits. A light touch to the flower sent a shower of dried-blood petals between them. She picked one up; the edges crumbled to dust. "One dying and one dead." The pearls were smooth, cool, very old and very, very valuable. "Why do you say that?" This was a test, it had to be. There was no other logic. "The rose is nearly dead. In a day it will have completely dried. It was cut before it had fully bloomed, and it can't survive." "And the pearls?" "They're the reamins of oysters who died when they were ripped apart. Skeletons." Blink. "Why are you doing this for me?" "I want you to choose. You may have whichever you pick." Three sides to every story. The strength in her, it was real and full, but not enough. She glanced from one to the other, eyes unfocused, composed as always. Thinking as always. There was only one suitable choice. Maybe, just maybe, she would pick the right one. _The rose still has life, but will lose soon. Pearls are beautiful and eternal. Blatant, a bit too blatant. Not Lucien's way..._ _Three sides, three dimensions. Three choices. Choose quickly, me dear Aki. I may have all the time in the world, but cancer waits for no-one. Choose carefully, else regret it for the rest of your life..._ Two choices, the dying and the dead. Something else was there, she just wasn't recognizing it. Think. Think!... Don't think, act. Don't think, do what you know. Why only two choi--? No, not three. Even a coin has three sides... She took the object. Looked at them a last time. Aki turned towards a table, away from LaCroix... Cousin "Susan" Phoenix phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein "Autumn" copyright 1996 S. Schaefer part three of five LaCroix's attention increased as Aki, his Autumn Woman, turned back. He looked to her hands and saw-- Saw them reach for him. Felt the strong arms wrap around his neck, felt himself return the embrace. Lost all but the two of them as their lips met. She had made the third choice: The Survivor. Aki moved closer to her prize, opened her mouth, pressed in. Tongues met. She felt the sharp of his teeth, tasted red ambrosia as a drop of her hot blood slid onto his. Lucien responded with a frenzious passion. More drops, a small torrent were forced from the tiny wound, weakening her with pleasure. Suddenly he tore away. The gold of his eyes flickered red. "Go," he rasped. "Lucien?" He felt her sultry touch, shook it away immediately. The absinthe. Damn the absinthe! Damn her hot absinthe blood, damn the perfect, bittersweet stuff! Oh, gods of Heaven and Hell, how he wanted to take every drop, to drain her beyond the point of death, let her cancerous corpse stiffen in his cold, inhuman arms. It would be a fair trade if he might never drink again!... _No, no! To destroy her for just a meal. Just a few moments of ecstacy for that ambrosia in her veins..._ He walked quickly to a bookshelf. From the leather-bound volumes he pulled a worn copy of _Le Phantome de la Opera_. He held it to his chest. "Lucien?" He whirled, just controlling his frenzy. "GET OUT OF HERE! Get into the room behind you and lock the door!" "Lucien,--" "NOW! Or I'll kill you. Don't unlock the door until I tell you to, and even then only if--" He heard the lock click. It was his lair, and yet he had allowed himself to be seduced by a creature who was both Erik and Christine. Perfection, turned grotesque where no one could see. And she had seduced him not with song, but with her strength and wits. And her Absinthe blood. He sat down to read, to force himself to calm down. The _Moonlight Sonata_ played softly around him. She awoke just after 7am. Five hours sleep. Lucien had, by accident or proxy, directed her into the bedroom earlier. It held a wardrobe, a small desk, a safe, a large four-poster bed enclosed by wine velvet curtains. Aki felt safe there, like in a womb. Or Lucien's arms, which she had dreamed of, part of the time. For all her dreams, she was a vampyre. A soft tapping pulled her from the warm blankets. Looking around she saw a black silk kimono hanging from a hook on the wardrobe. Rapidly, Aki threw it on, hoping Lucien wouldn't mind; easier than putting her dress back on, at least. As she hastily knotted the smooth cloth belt, Lucien called softly from the other room: "Aki, open the door." She did. Cousin "Susan" Phoenix phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein "Autumn" Susan Schaefer copyright 1996 S. Schaefer part four of five Her hair was mussed, dress lying over the desk chair. Aki stood before him wearing his favorite robe. The cut of it left much pale skin bared, more than even her dress. "You may leave if you wish. Or stay." _Stay, my Autumn One._ "I think I'll stay." Her voice was husky-sweet, much like her blood. "Sunlight tends to bother me." Lucien nodded. "Sit down my dear. I would like to talk." Aki began to walk past him, into the sitting room. "No, I meant in here," a hand on her shoulder. "I'm afraid the bed is the only place comfortable enough to talk, but I am growing tired, and I may become cranky otherwise." Oddly enough, she hesitated. Did she fear? No, it was out of respect. He smiled, stroked a hand over her hair, down her neck, along her jaw and spider-down cheek. "I won't bite." She looked up and frowned. "Damn." So, she had a sense of humor. It, too, resembled his in some dark way. A chuckle. "Careful, my dear. You may get what you wish for." Even when it came to pajamas, his taste was impeccable. Black silk, modern style. The sleek cloth tightened and laxed as he moved. Underneath his body was smooth, strong, comforting. The neck of his shirt showed a slight pale fuzz. Aki longed to run her hands over it, pleasuring him with her body and her blood. Instead, she lay on her side, admiring him and conversing. He asked the first questions. "Tell me, why is it you choose to call yourself Aki? You are apparently not Japanese, so I would guess it's symbolic." Aki breathed deeply. "You speak _Nihongo_, then. You answer." "You are dying. Superficial spreading melanoma, I would guess, stage 5?" A nod. "This means you have essentially entered the autumn of your life. You refused treatment?" Aki shook her head. "I never lost my hair. But by the time it was found, any treatment was just a formality. Even the spot kept coming back." "Ah, so you are a medical tragedy. One in a million." She snorted insidiously. "I was a medical tragedy long ago. Asthma, allergies, fibromyalgia, and some other stuff. Something terminal was gonna happen eventually." "And yet you don't cry. I would expect that to happen in one like yourself." "Why? Do I seem that emotional?" She sat up, face sullen. "It wouldn't do anything, I already found that much out." He nodded, thinking. "Who did you cry for? Yourself, or the people who would miss you?" Pause. "I really don't know. I never thought about it." She took a breath. "Probably for myself." Sweet honesty. "And you consider this justified? What of those who would be hurt by your death?" Aki lay on her stomach, chin resting upon clenched fists. "I think... why would they mourn if I weren't worth mourning for? I acknowledge that." Although her voice was steady, a single drop brimmed and slid down her face. Lucien watched it fall. Just before it dripped of he took it upon a finger and tasted it. "Strange. Human tears are always so salty, but yours are sweet. Almost like honey." Aki looked at him. "It won't hurt you, will it?" "I'd daresay not, considering the source." With a gentleness rare to him, he cupped her face in his hands, and... He kissed her. Softly, on the lips. A bit of eye-drop lingered and she tasted the warm sugar. With closed eyes, she returned Lucien's kiss, just an tenderly. It lasted only a few seconds, but seemed like a blissful eternity. A smile broke the vampyre's face. "You are truly unique, beautiful Autumn. Very few have your powers of understanding." "You're one of the few." "Yes," he stroked her silken hair, "I suppose I am." She lay her head next to his, facing. "Why did you read what you did, earlier? I saw the cover just before you kicked me out." "Ah, you know then story, then." Nod. "Perhaps... perhaps because I was visited by my own Angel; one who is both Erik and Christine, deformed romantic and pure, accidental seductress." She looked deeply, dark-innocently into his eyes. "I could say the same about you, in a way." _My Illumination..._ This was expected, somewhat. What she did next was not. Aki had apparently taken the allusion to its fullest. Quietly, she began to sing. The song was "Think of Me." Lucien could have sworn the Angel of Music lay next to him. The crystal tones floated through him, embedded themselves in his blood and mind. They became entwined in his black heart, his armored soul. If only... The song ended all too soon. He opened his eyes. Aki was leaning over him, content. "Please," Lucien whispered, "one more." This one he did not recognise, which made the song all the more perfect. Alto now, not high soprano (god, her range was inhuman!), more husky, more drawn from the depths of her soul. He had slaughtered thousands for less perfection than this. The music continued to float through him, when he felt a drop on his face. Honey-sweet tears were pouring from her eyes. When she had finished he kissed them from her face. Cousin "Susan" Phoenix phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein "Autumn" Susan Schaefer copyright 1996 S. Schaefer part five of five An eternity of this would be too short. As Lucien's lips dried her, lit her soul with all the fires of the stars, the only thought in Aki's mind was spending the rest of time, or annihilate trying, with the immortal man she had so long admired from a distance. She found his cool hand, grasped it in her own. He grasped back. "Aki, you have the most perfectly trained voice I have ever heard. What was your second song?" "'Bright Eyes'. From _Watership Down_. The movie. The part where Fiver is following the Black Rabbit to find Hazel." He kissed her hand lightly. "Very appropriate. Even to one who has only read the book." He stroked her fingers. "How old are you, exactly?" "Twenty-one years, a few months." "How long have you trained vocally?" "Professionally, or on my own?" "Both." "Seven years on my own, never professionally." A look of surprise crossed Lucien's face, passed in a moment. "I'm honestly not surprised. If anyone had even tried to teach you formally, and things were different," pause, "I'd be reading about your stage triumphs instead of actually hearing you. I like this much better." He squeezed her hand. She returned it. "Lucien, I don't know how old you are." It wasn't a forced change of subject, just balance. He looked at her more directly. "What do you think?" "In mortal years, around 40. In immortal..." _Ancient as civilization._ "Your powers of perception are acute. Two-thousand years, give or take 100; and Rome was a founder of today." She smiled, Mona Lisa-like. No words were necessary. They awoke around 6 p.m. Or, rather, Lucien did. Aki still lay in the crook of his arm. The neck of the kimono she wore had fallen open, revealing a soft, pale breast, translucent even to a mortal. He covered her quickly, not so much for her modesty (which, he suspected, wasn't a primary concern) as for his hunger. Then again... Just a sip. It wouldn't hurt. She would never know. Lucien's fangs extended to their full length; the sea-blue of his eyes misted golden. The pale throat was there, waiting. He prepared to bite, lunged, And stopped millimeters from her skin. It was wrong. It was rape. He would not destroy Aki as he had so many others. She stirred. Lucien quickly sat up so as not to injure her. As she moved, the wretched spot on her neck came into view. He wanted to save her from it, to bring her across. "Lucien?" She "looked" at him, eyes squeezed shut. "Yes, I'm here." He lisped slightly around the canines; thay were forced to retract. "Hmmmmmnnnn." She jerked. "Lucien, I can't sit up." Urgency crept into her voice. The same urgency echoed through LaCroix. Late stage cancer, near the brain. Intuuitively he knew the worst: the tumor had entered her brain stem. So suddenly. Just a few hours before-- _Lucien, help me!_ Her voice was paralyzed. He heard only her mind. _Lucien, make me like you, now!_ The thought hit him like a dropped safe. He sensed her reading him the same way. Lucien remembered nothing after the first rush of hot, sweet, absinthe-cleansed blood. Seven p.m. Aki still lay in bed. Now, however, her eyes were open. She was finishing off her third bottle of Special Reserve. Lucien himself was sitting next to her. He petted her hair. She play-snapped at his hand. He snapped back (quite unlike himself) and earned a razzberry for his trouble. Around Aki's neck was a choker of black pearls. Death was good. / /| | | \ | / ----- | /|\ | / | \ / \ | / \ | / \ Aki (Autumn) Cousin "Susan" Phoenix phoenix@ionet.net ***MSTie Mad Scientist Somewhat-Extraordinaire*** *I'd be nothing if not cold.* "Great spirits have always received violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~~~Albert Einstein