Something was always tugging at my mind, like two fists pounding, trying to open the door of my concienciousness. I relised, that I always wondered if Viktor, the one whom adopted me, was even alive. Don't get me wrong, let him rot! Of cource little Juliet wants to be apart of this glories occasion.

Prehaps I always wanted that revenge, of killing, draining him drop by drop and watching the life spill from his eyes and see his blood sprout from his form that would be mangled by the time his heart held no life. I will show him, if he lives, and he shall the see the sun no more! I always thought upon the most paintfull way by death, I decided watching him beg would be very pleaseing, then killing him.

But slowly I would do this, and take his blood to give me life, ahh, how the mighty have fallen and the mighty have had their last laugh! And so, I laugh in the face of death! I shall laugh when he has died, and I will enjoy his struggle because I know he will fight. I will stalk him for a few days prehaps, driveing him to the brink of madness.

Ah, I plot with such joy! Won't that make me horrible as he is, will I somhow feel grief for his loss? Think, think Juliet. No, I will only feel relief. I might even see his working organs, cutting open his gut to spot all the lovly working mechanisms.The heart, sucking the blood from the very source like a warm fruit paulseing will life, fighting, emptying the elixer from the thin veins. I do not want to think upon such things now, such things are not like me. Revenge, tis rare for me, I will consider it when the time is right. Oh, but where oh where is my beloved Lestat?

Juliet sat upright within the chair, a un-touched book of Ovid sat waiting upon her lap. A few pages have gone by in her thinking, and Juliet knew not what she read or what her mind consumed dureing her time of deep thoughts. Her lilthe physique sat straight in the chair, the fire danceing across the wall of the Louisiana abode.

Twas an enchanting city, New Orleans, and she let loose a laugh, long waverd tresses flew upon her back in a barbaric fashion, her cranium tilted back within her rejoice. Her body was adorned in a simple silk dress, reaching to her knees. It was a lovly violet hue, a soft toga like attire. At times Juliet would gourge herself upon fashion, reveling within the velvets, lace, and black leather. This simplicity was correct for her for the time being, and she flipped to the page within the book that humored her so.

"I congratulate myself on haveing not arrived into the world untill the present time. This age suits my taste..." Juliet read aloud softly, the words tumbling from her pinked lips, like a tiny cupids bow they pressed together in silence. Her dark brown hair was over her shoulders now, vieling her delicate boned facade. Juliet now stood and walked silently to place the book back within its place, the bookcase not far off.

Her hair was done up in a certain fashion, simple, but it was somewhat diffrent. The immortal gatherd the front part of her hair and tied it back, haveing a half-ponytail and the rest to play madly upon her slopeing back and narrow hips. Her long lashes shrouded her eyes, these eyes holding many colors, as if they could not decided on which to be notified just yet. Juliet her self did not know, but sure enough she could come to a decision.

She appeard a Caravaggio Cupid, a Womans seductivness with a totally child innocence with small soft rounded limbs, perfectly sculpted. Trapped within her new immortal form, at the cusp of her woman development, never once has the beautiful youth Juliet glanced back at her past. Though, at times, it seemd to take hold of her.

Her nails did not have the brilliant glory of glass, nor was her face barren of all the tissue. It was cold, and pale, but not terribly so. Her optics were rather wide, her long gentle fingers graced the presence of many things berfore she stood. Juliet let a smile form, and she inhaled deeply, someting stirred her and she knew not what of.

"Others?" She murmerd, her voice gentle like a doves coo. She knew not the sound they made, or how she knew. It was just there, like a beating of a large brass drum. It was louder then that, the fledglings eyes darted about, her face gaunt. Nouthing was moveing, it was not a earthquake, could those happen in New Orleans? No books were falling from th case, nor was the other objects disturbed. It was low, and clearly audible, she felt it within her bones.

Her form was peering from the window, the beautiful facade mimicing that of a cherub, plump pinked lips slack. Everything was still, the grass, tress? Was it the sweet serenoty of the night, or were they afraid also? It seemed everything felt it and Juliet rushed to find her sire in a hurried frenzy, brown ringlets danceing across her rounded cheeks, the immortal paused at each room.

She felt the unmistakle sound become nearer, and her breathing was quikend. Her slk violet dress was flying, at times clinging to her knees in her quickness. With deep breathes she stopped and stood in the door way to the living room, her hand braced to the door frame and her brown hair shrouding her gentle facade, Juliet sighed.