The Perfect Punishment
“Oh Nicolas, you are so naive. I wish you would give up this quest for mortality. I find no real motive behind it, myself,” LaCroix was speaking to Nicolas on a cold December night. There was snow on the ground, about 5 inches, and it was well below freezing. LaCroix scolded Nicolas as they stood in front of Nicolas’ building. Their breath could be seen in thick clouds as their exhalation came in quick bursts.
“I also find no real motive, in you coming to reprimand my actions. You can not rule me, LaCroix. I believe you have your own weak areas. Must I come to mention your lost love, The Duchess DeMoore?” Nicolas replied to the ancient vampire’s complaints.
“Oh Nicolas, I never thought you to be so cruel. Leave me now, if you choose only to cause me pain. You have won this battle,” LaCroix watched as Nicolas entered the building and shut the heavy door behind him. LaCroix stood alone, in the faint glow of a street light shining down on his lone figure. He recalled in his mind the painful memories of his dear Iris.
“Hello, Lucien.”
LaCroix froze at hearing the voice of the one he held in his mind only moments ago. But could it truly be her? He chose not to hope, knowing that it would only lead to disappointment. He spun around slowly on his heels, and beheld a figure, standing just short of the dull border of light. She wore a dark crimson cape, lined with the softest of fur. The grand hood rested delicately upon her head, the deep auburn curls tumbling softly onto her shoulders. She approached him slowly, stepping carefully through the snow piles and patches of ice.
“I know why you remain silent, my love, and so I answer your question from within. Yes Lucien, it is me. It is Iris DeMoore. I hope only to speak with you, for I have searched for you over these past three hundred years,” Iris came nearer to the man she had once loved, so very long ago. He stood silent as the tomb, and moved only his eyes, watching her with increases wonder as to the realness of her being. He still, in his mind, thought of her as a dream. “Lucien,” she began again, with a sadness in her voice, “please say something. It has taken me so long to find you, and now as I see you before me, you choose only to stand as a statue? Must you torment me this way?”
LaCroix, realizing that her presence was real, snapped from his stupor and responded to her pleading. “No, I will not torment you. I will, however, inquire as to where you have been? These three hundred years, your absence has distressed me to the point of pure grief overtaking my existence. I will not torment you as you have done me.” LaCroix walked to her and touched her tender cheek with his hand. He brushed away a tear and took her hand in his. He kissed it lightly and lead her out of the pale light of the street lamp, and together they walked to his townhouse.
*****
They sat in front of the fireplace and sipped wine.
“Iris, I have spent so many nights weeping for you. I have wished so many times to have you near me. Tell me what prevented us from being together that night all those years ago?”
“Lucien, my tale is one of sadness and suffering. It is long and never-ending. But if you choose to know, I will tell you.
“Back then, when we would spend our nights out in society, feeding only upon those that were unimportant, wearing extravagant clothes and developing extravagant reputations, there was one man who would never leave us to peace. He silently stalked us, dropping notes at the door, leaving rumors to float to others of high society. I always managed to hide the notes from you. I didn’t want you to worry. I believe this man who troubled us disapproved of your bringing me into the immortal world. He would often tell me in the notes of his wish that I was not a vampire.
“On the night that we were to leave for France, the night that I was engaged to attend a meeting before the boat would leave, I was sent a note that the assembly would be held at a different location. I arrived at the council house, only to find that the building was deserted. A figure approached me from behind and threw a bag over my head. I grew enraged and growled at him through the burlap. He knocked me out and threw me in a box. From then, I am, to this day, still unsure of what happened next.
“I awoke days later to find myself in the cargo hold of a ship bound for India. I tore from the box and quickly fed on the rats running around. Regaining my strength, I emerged from the hold of the ship and found some humans to feed upon. Knowing not how to direct a ship, I kept the captain alive until we reached India. After we arrived, I killed him and entered the city. From there, it took me five years to regain my status financially, so that I might travel. I toured the globe, searching for you. Back then, vampires were scarce in the middle east, so I could not make connections. I had so many things happen to me on my quest, I could not begin to tell you. I have just recently traced you to this city, Toronto. Finding you has made my existence sweeter than warm fresh blood. Lucien, promise you will never leave me.”
After hearing her story, LaCroix took a sip of his wine and replied with increasing interest, “Who is this man that caused us both so much pain over these past years?”
“It is your son, Nicolas.”
*****
Nicolas played a slow sweet song upon his grand piano, drifting into memories of his past lives. His dream was interrupted as his senses picked up the closeness of his master. He turned, stilling his hands. LaCroix stood in the room with a woman standing near him.
“Iris. You’re still alive,” Nicolas said as she glared at him.
“I see you’ve changed, Nicolas. I hear of your quest for mortality. I, myself, find it pointless, but I’ll just let you absorb the pain of disappointment. I know I have felt it more than once.”
“I want to atone for my sins in my life. I assume this opportunity to say sorry for the injustice I caused you that night.”
“So you do not deny it was you who took my love from me?” LaCroix said in a monotonous voice.
“No, LaCroix, I don’t deny it. But I seek forgiveness for my sin,” Nicolas replied.
“I will never forgive you, Nicolas,” Iris continued to glare at him.
“Nor I, Nicolas. You should feel fortunate that I don’t rip out your throat this minute,” a low growl erupted from LaCroix’s throat as he spoke the words.
“Please, if you won’t forgive me, then leave me be. I assure you my anguish is punishment enough,” Nicolas pleaded.
“That is what we had in mind. Though this may seem simple, it is indeed the perfect punishment. I cut you off from my life, Nicolas. You may escape my chastisement, but you lack my wisdom. I leave you now, Nicolas, I leave you alone with your guilt.” Lucien LaCroix and Iris DeMoore left the room via the skylight. Nicolas fell to the floor in a heap and began to cry. LaCroix truly had given him the perfect punishment.Disclaimer: Iris is mine. Lacroix and Nick aren't.