I thought that I would never write fanfiction again, and yet here I am. Blame it on my immeasurable love for Hannigram, my feels after the season finale, and of course tumblr. This idea is taken from the tumblr user lesbianvamp, who made an amazing gifset for this AU.
This story is not going to be just a copy of Interview with the Vampire with only the names changed, but it will be heavily based on it. You don't need to have read Anne Rice's book or the film based on it.
This is unbeta'd. You might find some mistakes because English is not my native language and I tend to type rather fast.
Sadly, I own nothing.
Enjoy and let me know what you think of it!
"How much tape do you have with you?" the man asks. "Enough for the story of a life?"
"Sure, if it's a good life. Sometimes I interview as many as four people a night if I'm lucky. But it has to be a good story."
The man nods, his face neutral, his blue eyes empty of emotion. "I would like to tell you the story of my life then," he says. "I would like to do that very much."
"Great." She removes the small tape recorder from her brief case, making a check of the cassette and the batteries. This interview seems to be very promising, and she doesn't want to miss a thing. "Okay, I'm really anxious to hear you story, why you believe-"
"No," the man says abruptly. "We can't begin this way. No, no. It's not right. This is not my design...Is your equipment ready?"
"Yes," she replies, trying to ignore the fact that he has just told her how to do her job.
"Good. Then sit down. I'm going to turn on the overhead light."
Her first thought is to note that vampires aren't supposed to like the light. But it sounds stupid in her head. Everything about this whole situation is absurd, almost ridiculous. This man claims to be a vampire. The only reason why Freddie is interested in his story is because she might get the chance to talk to a lunatic. She could write a great book about him and make loads of money.
The man moves towards the table and reaches for the overhead cord. The room is flooded with a harsh yellow light. But no matter the kind of light, Freddie would not have been able to suppress her gasp at the sight.
The man is utterly white and smooth, as if he is sculpted from bleached bone. The total paleness of his skin makes a lovely contrast with his dark brown curls. His eyes are like the sea under this light, blue and endless. Now she can appreciate just how inanimate his face is. He looks like a statue.
"I...I'm sorry," she manages to say. "I didn't mean to offend you."
The man smiles, and the smooth white substance of his face moves with the infinitely flexible but minimal lines of a cartoon. "Don't worry about it," he says. "I have experienced worse reactions. Now, do you still want this interview, Miss Lounds?"
"Yes."
"I am pleased to hear it. Oh, by the way, I should tell you my name. Not introducing myself is rude, and a dear friend of mine found discourtesy unbelievably ugly. I will tell you quite a lot about him soon, as he has played a major part in my life. But until we get to him, my name is Will Graham."
Freddie nods. She doesn't know what to say. Or what to do. She is not sure that she believes this man to be a vampire as he claims, but he most definitely isn't an ordinary human being.
"Don't be afraid," he says. "Just start the tape."
It takes a moment for her to find her courage, to stammer that the microphone is in the machine, to press the button, to say that the machine is on. During that time, the man named Will Graham is sitting collected, waiting. He looks like he can wait forever, and maybe he can. Freddie has interviewed dangerous people before, but this is different. This man doesn't even seem to belong to the people category.
"You weren't always a vampire, were you?" she asks.
"No," Will Graham says. "As far as I know, vampires are made, not born. Of course, after all this time, I still don't know everything about my nature...I was thirty one when I became a vampire, and the year was seventeen ninety-one."
She is startled by the preciseness of the date. There are people who can't even remember what they had for lunch yesterday. But this man is not just people, she tells herself. If his story is true, he is an ancient and dangerous creature.
"Tell me your story."
"I will, Miss Lounds. Every good story starts with a tragedy, does it not? It all began after my brother's death. I haven't told anyone about this and do not wish to talk about it tonight either. Instead, let me focus your attention to the man that changed my life forever."
