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The buzzing sound continued as the long, luscious blond locks fell to the floor. Lestat moved the shaver systematically around his head until it was devoid of any hair. Looking at his reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, he gave a small huff of satisfaction and reached for the brown contact lenses.
The transformation was complete. He thought about those ancient Monks and their tonures and mused how closely he now resembled those who he had so desperately longed to join. The image staring back at him was boringly insignificant. Perfect for his purpose.
Brushing any remaining strands from his broad shoulders, he slipped into a grey t-shirt and tucked it into his jeans. He grabbed his black jacket off the hook and slipped the room key into his pocket. Lestat let out a long, deep breath, picked up the bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums he’d had delivered and headed out the door.
He held the flowers close to his chest as he walked. Yellow chrysanthemums, an eternal symbol of sorrow and neglected love.
No one gave him a second look as he passed slowly down the Parisian street. The street that had long ago been home to the Théâtre des Vampires.The neighborhood unrecognizable now with its boutiques and trendy cafes. Although the buildings had changed, Lestat knew the spot well. The spot where his beautiful Claudia had met her horrific end.
And there he stopped and stood very still for a long moment. His face buried into the soft, full petals of the flowers. They pressed gently against his cheek like a caress.
Bending slowly, he reverently placed the flowers at the stoop of the building as he always did on this day.
What could be said of such an extraordinary creature if she had a proper grave. What would be her epitaph? Myriads of thoughts and memories passed through his mind, but one stood out . . .
BELOVED DAUGHTER
CREATED IN HASTE
ETERNALLY MOURNED
Unforgivable to have been given immortality. Unforgivable how it had ended. Lestat turned and walked slowly away, the blood tears soaking into his black jacket.
He would return next year on the anniversary of her death, just as he always had, just as he always would.