Hollow Child, Bleeding Doll

Father is the only word that has the power to kindle a little girl's heart. That two syllable utterance should provide protection and a love that only angels can describe. No matter how much a daughter wants to sever her ties from her father, she never can. A father is the holy crux of her soul.

After 100 years of living, I have reached this conclusion and oh how it breaks me.

My father came under a cape of evil, and with a single penetration of lust he ripped my innocence from me, enslaving me into a life which I could never escape.

I am the breathing doll his selfish needs long for.

I live in St. Louis – the place I was born and died – with both of my fathers. Although they are both to blame for my immortal soul, it is beyond my capacity to condemn Louis; he lives in his own hell and does not need me to add to his grieve. I only blame Lestat.

Lestat, my darling father. Lestat, the blonde haired prince of nightmares. The Vampire Lestat.

My name is Claudia and it is I that moves Lestat's dead heart into beating. He dresses me in expensive clothing, brushes my hair, and spoils me, while caressing me with his bloodstained lips. I am his golden haired princess and so consumed is he with this naïve belief, that he fails to hear my inner screams.

I am the angel of the damned.

For centuries I have lived in this mortal wilderness, lost and alone, and while my mind has matured, my form has not. Father made me his vampire child when I was five and thereby sentenced me to an eternity of childhood.

Never will I feel the hot lips of first love against my breast.

Never will I possess the curves of sexual temptation.

Never will I be anything more than a child.

I am locked in this burning portrait.

But not forever. I know what needs to be done to secure my release. I must kill him. I must kill Lestat.

In my dreams – dreams that are normally filled with the seductive smell of blood on a paramour's skin – I dream of putting a knife to his throat and slowly draining him of the blood he so craves. The blood he took from me and my Mamma.

With his corpse defiled, Louis and I will finally be free of his chains and ignorance. We could travel further than these suffocating St. Louis walls.

Where would we walk? Paris. Go back to the place dear Father so adores and taint his memories of it with our slaying eyes. The final twist of the knife.

Dearest Lestat, you will not live forever. It will be your saving angel that swings the axe upon your neck. I, your daughter Claudia will kill you.

How beautiful betrayal is.

Grr I hate Claudia for what she did to Lestat.

Please review. -x-