A Fanfiction based off of Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. Plus Dracula Untold and Nosferatu.
💮(can be read as original for those unfamiliar with fandoms)
Violette Delorme Monnier, a woman who has given up on all her dreams awaits the kiss of death...
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It was cold, mid winter in lands where snow only fell rarely every decade or so. In the dark of the early morning, under the golden glow of a crackling fire, two figures ate the last of the roasted marshmallows.
The cold breeze shook the dry brush around them and for a moment the silence lingered. "Its odd to think I gave up food all those years." Louis said in a hoarse chuckle, followed not long after buy a series of dry coughs.
Violette stood, a bottle of murky liquid in hand, she went to him. "Drink it - it stops that." She murmured. Louis took the bottle from her hands and while he drank from it, Violette sat and curled up at his side.
"Will they miss us?" She asked quietly her eyes glued to the stars, stars dancing their last as a burning orange fire peeked its fingertips over the horizion.
Louis sighed and draped his arm over her shoulders. He could feel her body heat warming his side, a feeling he had all but forgotten. It was a lovely moment, waiting on the sunrise, and he didnt want to ruin it with such talk now.
"Someone told me once, our pasts can be poisonous fumes with sweet scents." He said turning to look into her dark eyes. He offered a small smile, showing off blunt teeth. "But you see right now we are doomed either way so if we must enhale - let it be of the sweetness and not the poison."
Violette closed her eyes and took a deep breath, she released it in a long sigh. That felt nice.
"So, what then?" She asked sipping some of the murky liquid, her eyes turned to the slow sunrise.
"Then? Well back then, it was late...and I was searching for dinner in a city I'd never been. I found myself at a bar and came across a little concrete flower. It was raining and cold...." Louis droned on, his low steady voice fading softly into memory.
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Violette wheezed as quietly as she could and tried to catch her breath. Her chest ached painfully and she bit at her tongue. "You should head on home, rest today." said Evan, a large man of 54, with dark caramel colored skin and slicked back black hair. Concern flashed across his face as he rubbed Violette's back carefully.
