Interview with the Vampire

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Anne Frank meets Stephen King.

We're a family?

Yeah, with no secrets.

Uncle Les got secrets.

How's Antoinette?

I don't see that happening again.

His name is Charlie.

He's got veins like rivers.

Charlie?

This is why we never get close to mortals.

Let me tell you something. I'm doin' just fine.

I'm just getting started.

"Man with green vest... 'Please, no.'

Man with fat fingers... 'Please, stop.'

Window washer... 'I can't die like this.'

Woman with purple shoes... 'Please.'

Boy with inner tube and dog... 'Let my dog live.'

'Please, no.'

'Please, stop.'

'Stop.'

Oh, here's a good one.

"Man in the last row of 'The Son of Sheik' picture show...

"You said you had cigarettes."

It's a kill list.

Yes.

In a teenager's handwriting.

The final words of her victims.

There are 42 pages, if I remember correctly.

"Schoolteacher...

guard your heart.'"

I'm trying to think of something

more fucked up than this.

And how is your work any different?

Well, what do you think will happen to Mr. du Lac

when you publish this book,

when the other vampires of the world get their hands on it?

As long as they pay full freight.

They will make their way to Dubai.

They will scale the sides of this building,

force their way inside,

and paint the walls with his blood.

You are chronicling a suicide.

Do not look down on Claudia.

Look in the mirror.

Rashid is an opinionated young man.

He lives to share these opinions,

even when they are not solicited.

What's he taste like?

I didn't ask that.

You were thinking it.

- Stay out of my head. - Honey and pineapple.

He stuffs himself with both for days

before he offers himself to me.

Would you like to sample?

I'll wait till Damick comes around again.

I'm a savory man most days.

I care for him more than he cares for himself.

And I wouldn't let you near my neck if you were...

62 1/2 kilograms.

What? 138 pounds for the metrically challenged.

Daniel here was wondering how much you weigh, Rashid,

- so I told him... - Stay out of my head.

Sleep, pray, eat, pray, swim, pray, et cetera.

On days he's a plump 139, I believe he swims twice.

Metronomic, my Rashid.

Refill.

Louisiana's a closed records state.

- And that means? - It means that

I can't browse the mortality data for 1923.

You wouldn't find the corroboration you were seeking

even if you could.

We burned. We buried.

And a convention city is not motivated

to advertise grim statistics.

Session five,

- Louis de Ponte du Lac... - For Claudia,

all humans died with Charlie.

As for scale...

I was skeptical, too.

I thought she was on a hunger strike.

It's been months. Her meals are too meager.

What if you bring one of your kills into her room?

We could tie him up next to the coffin...

She's not surviving on birds or nocturnals, Louis.

She waits for that slither of time

when I'm on the hunt and you're gone round the back

to make nice with the ratcatcher.

Or she's slowly starving herself.

Bon.

I know what I'd do, but you've cut my hands off.

- My parenting is... - Sadistic?

So save your words when it comes to Claudia.

She's in there 'cause of you.

Ca suffit!

Voilà.

Comme je dit.

- She's dining out! - As I said she was.

Ah.

Ah.

Don't do that. It's private.

Ah.

"Dear Diary,

am I gonna be a virgin every single time I do it?

Won't my skin down there grow back like my hair does when I cut it?"

Jesus.

What...

What night is it?

I couldn't hear you over the tugboat.

What... What night is it?

January 5th.

January.

Always thought it would be summer.

Aah!

A whole lot of concern's been wasted on you these past months.

- You read my... - All of it.

Whole families,

half a parade crew. The incinerator will be overflowin'.

The smoke alone would blot out the moon.

What did you do with 'em, Claudia?

Did you read my other ones?

- No. - I did.

Inked with ungratefulness.

Where are the bodies?

Well, then, I guess you better hope and pray

you taught me how to clean up good.

Where are they?

You gonna let him do this to me?

I read some passages out loud, I'm afraid.

Hurtful words for both your guardians.

I didn't mean harm, a-and the bodies are just preten...

Stop lying, Claudia!

I buried them, okay?! Way out of town.

Nothin' out there for miles.

No one's ever gonna find 'em,

except maybe criminals burying bodies of their own.

I'm never gonna forget what happened here.

I hate you both.

- Where out of town? - Chalmette, now get out of my room!

Chalmette's three feet below the river line.

So what?! Get out of my room!

What happens when the next storm comes out the gulf?

Over here!

Over here!

The Christian ran to Atlanta.

I've been tapped on the shoulder

from the long arm of Baton Rouge, I'm afraid.

They're promising I only have to be in session

'bout a third of the year, but a promise for Baton Rouge

is what my wife would call "a pig in a turnip field."

I don't know what it means either.

Oh, you can't count on it, is what I'm getting at.

And when you have been tapped on the shoulder from Baton Rouge...

You want money?

I mean, it's always a straight line with you, Louis.

Yes.

Yes, I am asking for your

and Mr. Lioncourt's support in my campaign

for the Louisiana House of Representatives.

A grubby business, politics.

Also devoid of dignity.

But there's one of those Temperance fartknockers runnin' again.

And, well, look at us...

a city of a thousand saloons shamed into the shadows.

Look, that's Chief of Police Bardeen.

Maybe I should buy him a round,

Ask him why there's double the cops walkin' the Quarter lately.

Our recent unpleasantness in the Ninth Ward.

The floaters.

I read about that in the papers.

Six bodies, was it?

Six?

Try 56.

Fleet of corpses like it was a judgment come.

- But they're still digging. - Drowned?

"Must have drowned in the hurricane."

First words out of my mouth when I got the call.

But I'll tell you both somethin',

because we're old friends.

Every single one of those corpses

had some soft part of it lopped off.

Finger here, a foot there...

a toe.

Hell, one poor woman was missing her left...

Mama!

Only the left.

Don't be shy. Go on ahead, just take the whole set.

Sounds like there's a maniac on the loose.

Most of the poor fools they hooked out of the bayou

are former inhabitants of the Quarter, so...

don't be too startled if the police come knockin' on your door.

It's just a routine look-see.

You didn't invite us here for a campaign donation, now, did you, Tom?

Tapped on the shoulder from Baton Rouge.

Tapped on the shoulder from the Fraternal Order.

Both things can be true, Louis.

One each.

Good evening, sirs. My name is Deputy Habersham.

Uh, am I speaking with the owners of this townhouse?