[Dorian freezes as Louis' fangs pierce his skin, as if there's some reflex triggered by the vampire's bite, but it's only for a second before he begins to struggle fiercely. The ghost controlling him doesn't care about new sensations the way Dorian does. The ghost just wants blood, and in a completely different way than Louis does. But the ghost only has Dorian's human strength, which ebbs swiftly with the loss of blood.
Flashes of memories spark through his blood.
A shadowy house, cold and quiet. An old man haunting an empty house. If I make noise, he'll start shouting again.
Clammy fingers stroke my hair, pat my shoulder. I didn't tell him he could do that, but he says my beauty is a gift to the rest of the world.
A cruel smile, painted on a canvas. That wasn't there before.
I can still hear the guillotine, and I still feel the rocking of the ship across the Channel.
Her dark hair is a black halo on the stone floor, the shattered glass goblet scattered about her like many stars. What some men call evil is only a medium, an under-utilized brush to paint beautiful things. Angelique is so beautiful, even lying still against the stone, red lips having tasted their last champagne. A pity she had to die. She shouldn't have gone snooping where she wasn't wanted.
She is gone. Now I am the old man haunting an empty house. And I will always be here.
The struggling weakens, then becomes intermittent. Then it stops.]
no subject
Flashes of memories spark through his blood.
A shadowy house, cold and quiet. An old man haunting an empty house. If I make noise, he'll start shouting again.
Clammy fingers stroke my hair, pat my shoulder. I didn't tell him he could do that, but he says my beauty is a gift to the rest of the world.
A cruel smile, painted on a canvas. That wasn't there before.
I can still hear the guillotine, and I still feel the rocking of the ship across the Channel.
Her dark hair is a black halo on the stone floor, the shattered glass goblet scattered about her like many stars. What some men call evil is only a medium, an under-utilized brush to paint beautiful things. Angelique is so beautiful, even lying still against the stone, red lips having tasted their last champagne. A pity she had to die. She shouldn't have gone snooping where she wasn't wanted.
She is gone. Now I am the old man haunting an empty house. And I will always be here.
The struggling weakens, then becomes intermittent. Then it stops.]