Little Claudia

The girl began her life as fresh and beautiful as one could be. The passing of years stole some of this plump beauty though, first with the loss of her father than with the gradual creeping illness that stole her mother (1). Still a child, barely five she crouched on the floor bent double with the pains of hunger and the heat of the fever. Though her body was weak one hand clutched, with the strength of another entity, her mother’s from where it hung over the bed. Surely fate had forgotten this fragile being and left her to die…but for the elegant creature in the doorway.
She awoke, born again, her new caretakers two beautiful things that imitated men. Her hair curled into rich ringlets once more and cheeks became the plump peaches they had been before her family succumbed to the slums. “Come kill with me tonight” Lestat would whisper his eyes full of mischief. This while Louis would sit in his favorite armchair by the fire his eyes on her and full of reproach.
In the early days of her new life she would follow Lestat, his lack of conscience appealed to her youth. But time passed and gradually youth faded though her exterior remained as small and untouched as ever. Her childish cruelty sharpened into an adult’s cold cunning and when her eyes were on Lestat he sensed her disgust. They no longer left Louis by the fireside alone. Now she would crawl into his lap, hating her diminutive figure and the way he watched her with affection rather than lust. They would talk for hours, to put it more aptly Louis would speak while she listened quietly, curiosity warning her to bide her time so that she could eventually learn the truth.
One night while hunting long forgotten memories prompted her the dark filthy room where her mother had died. Louis, weak as he had ever been, apologized over and over again only to finally agree to do the only thing that would make it up to her. Her hatred finally managed to burn Lestat up but it had only just begun to lick at Louis. She insisted tha t they search for other creatures like themselves. Her soul yearned for a sense of belonging; perhaps she hoped to find another child demon like herself? Louis accompanied her still trying to protect her and him from the longing that had already set her destiny in place.
In Paris other creatures were finally found, a nest that put on plays for the public every night (2). The girl’s need was quenched though after the first contact. She wanted only to leave for in the leader’s eyes she could see certain death. But Louis, her guardian and lover, either would not or could not see. Now it was Claudia who was at his whim, afraid and begging to leave.
After an uneasy period of waiting she resigned herself to fate. She could not leave Louis and she was not capable of happiness or even contentment at that point in her life. The woman in a child’s body waited for death and was given it in the form of Lestat, back from the grave to accuse her. Cast into a room with no ceiling Claudia waited for the sun while listening to faithful Louis scream in the distance for her (3).
So, in Paris, on the morning of December tenth 1862, died an abomination of nature. A beautiful small creature whose appetite was never sated and who never should have lived in the first place.

(1) Believed to be Marcella Decuir, a plague victim who died in 1794. She had a five-year-old daughter who was never issued a death certificate; her existence disappears from the record books. Many believe little Claudia simply ran away after she realized her mother was dead, but this researcher believes differently.
(2) The oddly named “Theatre des Vampires.” Records show that while this group was in Paris fatalities increased by over twenty percent. A young noble, Claire Goux Maillet, wrote in her diary that she felt “disturbed” after seeing one popular play put on by the coven.
(3) The theater was searched for survivors after a raging fire destroyed it in 1862. It was reported as full of skeletal remains, far too old to have been casualties of the fire. The fireman that reported this mused, “Perhaps they were being used as stage props.”
In another room, oddly untouched by the fire, a man reported seeing a beautiful sculpture that seemed to be made out of ash. It was of a young girl with her eyes “squeezed shut in an expression of great pain.”