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The Hunt - Recognition [25 Jun 2009|07:53pm] [ mood | calm ] I don’t always enjoy the struggle; it’s hopeless for them against these slender arms with an iron grip. The confusion is always followed by anger then fear and finally submission, as I take them deep down with me to the core of my being, it's like a repetitive chorus played endlessly in my mind. I know them, I love them, I am them. It’s been written about so very many times, but how can you describe something so profound, something as meaningful as a solid glimpse of someone’s life through their eyes? We lose ourselves, you know. Every time we take in the red nectar of a life; every time we feel the steady pulse of a beating heart begin to wane, we get lost in the moment. It’s so much more than any mortal physical contact that you can’t even compare it. It is all encompassing, it erases everything around us and nothing exists but you and me – together in life for a few brief moments…I am yours and you are mine. She hit me, tried to bite, kicked and screamed until I had to cover that pretty lip-glossed mouth with my own before I dragged her in and found the tender spot on her neck which I longed for. It wasn’t as swift as I thought it would be as she struggled further – all the while Ian bore a hole into my back with his eyes as he silently crept closer to see the entire event unfold. I witnessed her girlhood fights, older brothers that tried to protect and save her from herself and a little shack where she and five other siblings grew up. How odd, it really wasn’t far from where I, myself, lived with Great Nananne. Hard to believe that this woman and I may have known each other if things were very different. I sucked and drank her life like a parched beast dying of thirst. I drowned in her, and she would have seen to the very essence of Merrick Mayfair. Was that a smile against my cheek? A whisper of a name I hadn’t been called since I woke up suddenly alive and whole again? “Angelique..” I heard Ian stir and take in a sharp breath. It was impossible that she knew my cousin, or was it? I pulled back; my lips still covered in her blood and looked into her eyes for a moment caught in time. Recognition. I had to end it quickly before some strange sort of guilt made this impossible. I would not allow her to suffer so. Within seconds she was nothing more than a corpse in my arms, but not before I glimpsed a single memory of her short lived acquaintance with my dead cousin. Ian stood no more than a foot away. Her body was still warm and for a short time….so was I. post comment

The Hunt - Continued [24 Jun 2009|07:56pm] [ mood | awake ] I don’t know why I play these mind games with him. Back and forth I go, exposing more of myself as the creature that I am then pulling back to pretend that I am still the Merrick that he once knew –the mortal girl he loved among the Pyramids. I’m not and I know it. He knows it, yet what does he see when he looks into eyes that are unfamiliar to him? What does he look for when he searches my face for the familiarity that I lost into the fire? My new physical form doesn’t seem to have phased him even the slightest, or is it that he looks past the body and into my soul? That night, I searched and found her quickly. Dark eyes that I’d glimpsed were now locked onto a middle aged man that she was toying with. He was on business from Miami, single and very drunk. Rebecca dressed in shades of crimson lying soft and sensuous against her café-au-lait skin. Her hair was clipped back in dark waves and I could smell the salt of her perspiration that wove a pattern down her long slender neck. Ian stood several yards away from and in the shadows. He was completely transfixed on my movements as I approached the dangerous beauty and her doomed lover. I’d decided to save him, let him go, give him one chance that he’d never get again. She saw me approach at last, a smaller woman with hair like hers, impossible white skin and eyes that shone like sapphires under the lamp light. I’d worn my locks long and free, blood sweat beaded on my forehead as it was still hot and humid. I ran my fingers across my cold skin, licked them clean and continued towards her. The man turned around and couldn’t believe his eyes. Two beautiful women, what more could he wish for? She, on the other hand, was furious. This was her territory and I was not welcomed. She cursed at me, spit in my direction and pushed her John away momentarily. It was then that I spoke softly, to him. “Leave now. She has a knife and intends to kill you. Do as I say, now.” Stupidly he only stared as I locked eyes with him. I must have been a sight in the dark – almost wraith-like in my paleness with such black hair and blue eyes. “Leave,” I said again and pushed with my mind for him to obey. Within moments he stumbled away, confused and slightly dizzy. I could feel Ian’s eyes follow the businessman from Miami walk away without even noticing that there was another man in the shadows. Rebecca noticed. She swore at us and came towards me, sharp little knife in hand and her breath stinking of cigarettes and bourbon. I smiled, opened up my arms to her and quickly disposed of the weapon while I claimed her for my own. post comment

The Hunt [22 Jun 2009|08:37pm] [ mood | calm ] He asked me one night as we strolled along the river if he could watch me hunt, observe me taking a life. The question was startling enough for me to break my stride that matched his. I couldn’t imagine why he’d want to witness such a thing, yet every member in the Order was trained to watch and observe everything that they could and document it. I knew this would be no exception, this would go straight into a file marked: Merrick Mayfair – the same file that recorded my birth, my death and my subsequent rebirth. Everything was there in great detail and although all of it was electronically stored, there was still much of it in the original handwriting, Aaron’s handwriting, David’s and several others throughout the years. I asked him why, as surely he’d witnessed other vampires hunt or at the very least had read about the encounter. A small smile played about his lips that I’d recently stolen a warm kiss from, knowing full well that I really shouldn’t touch him as it only encouraged him. He started to offer several logical explanations and in the end simply stated that he was curious about how, I specifically, would do it. His open honesty has always been something very difficult for me to resist. I somewhat reluctantly agreed explaining to him that I was swift if not almost uninteresting. This didn’t deter him and he only nodded in his polite way as continued on with our walk. We’d started near the St. Louis Cathedral and would most likely end up back there where we would part ways, he returning to the Motherhouse that I’d been raised in, and myself wandering into the church to light a candle or two. I asked him when he’d like to see it, when he’d wish to watch me find, hunt and take a victim. Tomorrow night - was his answer. So soon! I don’t think I was quite prepared yet I’d already found myself nodding and agreeing to his wish. I quickly informed him that we’d need to be in a specific area, one where I could find an evil-doer; I even had one in mind whom I’d seen many times before. She was a whore who often lured her Johns into an area that she favored where she and one other would rob them, stab them and leave them for dead. Often they did die, but not always. Rebecca was her name, a woman of coffee colored skin – much like my own used to be. Alright. It was agreed. I would find her tomorrow and be swift. post comment

Home [11 May 2009|01:06pm] [ mood | calm ] I will be returning home soon to New Orleans. Ian, if you wish to join me, you are most welcome. 4 comments|post comment

Happy Birthday, Ian [20 Mar 2009|02:46pm] [ mood | happy ] How far we've come and how very different everything is from what it once was. I look forward to seeing you later this evening. 1 comment|post comment

[24 Jan 2009|06:23pm] [ mood | amused ] So it seems, I may be taught how to fence. 2 comments|post comment

London Bound [05 Jan 2009|03:02pm] [ mood | happy ] We were speaking of nothing in particular and about everything in the virtual world of instant messaging. A quiet tapping of the keyboard and the soft murmur of the wind through the foliage that all but swallowed this house were all that was audible to my sensitive ears. The streets were uncommonly deserted, but I relished the subdued quiet. The request was simple, quick and came in the middle of a conversation about the recent surprise snowfall in New Orleans. “Come to London! You absolutely must. I insist.” How could I refuse? It had been years since I’d stood on the same ground as both of them and I’d rather not think about the times that I had; those moments had been fused with anger and violence. The results had affected us all. I closed the house that Louis and I had shared for Christmas. I gathered what he needed and packed, booked and prepared. A flight east and then with less speed than I wanted, as I am ever impatient, I arrived in London. Perhaps time heals most wounds and buries deep those that we care not to think of. There they stood together, comfortable and ageless. Louis’ demure welcoming smile, and Lestat’s giddy grin met my excitement as I strode towards them. I felt like I should run like a young girl, yet I kept my composure in check. Warm embraces, kisses and all of the human pleasantries that we never forget despite what we really are, this is what family is. This is where my heart lives.     2 comments|post comment

A Welcomed Surprise [13 Dec 2008|06:34pm] [ mood | happy ] I awoke to the familiar glow of candles. Being that he is older and stronger, Louis always rises before me. The soft light playing upon the dark walls reminded me of more simple times and oh, how I wished he wasn’t so unhappy. The things that hurt our hearts never make sense to our minds. Low ceilings and dark wood gave me a feeling of comfort, there was not much in this house as it was hardly used – but he’d moved in furniture and made it as comfortable for me as he could. It was completely quiet except for his typing in the next room he’d made into an office. He must have heard me stir, but I wasn’t prepared for the light tone of his voice when he called me. "Merrique, will you come here for a moment? I'd like you to see the snow." Had this been anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed it. Louis isn’t one to pull pranks or jest. I was up and dressed within seconds to see for myself. He turned to look at me with a smile on his face that would have made the most bitter of souls fall in love. I simply stood there as he spoke of a small miracle for Christmas and how we should go out for a walk and see the wonder. It rarely snows in New Orleans, but when it does the city is breath taking. I made my way to the nearest window in disbelief, but the vines and trees were so overgrown, I could see nothing. You would never know there was a house with warmth and love in it beyond the thickness of foliage. You would never know two monsters lived there. Soon, we were out in the cold and slush of melting snow, under the glimmer of lamplight. The city was unusually quiet as we made our way towards the river, hand in hand. Two shadows that moved like wraiths in the sparkle of electric light on winter’s surprise gift of white. We must have looked a sight – impossibly pale skin in black clothes, blending in and out of darkness as we sidestepped puddles and spoke in whispers. Louis loved the snow. Even if it was for a short few moments, I could see the delight in his eyes as he smiled down at me. These are the moments that we wish would last forever. 4 comments|post comment

[12 Nov 2008|04:07pm] [ mood | shocked ] I am cold from the damp crypt in which I spent this past day, I haven’t hunted in many nights, but none of this matters. After picking up the set of keys to Lestat and Louis’ French Quarter townhouse, from my agent, I have finally managed to sit down and write this. Lestat is engaged with Nicolas, Louis is with Eleni, I should call them both. Yet, it would not accomplish anything; it is far too late. As I type, I sit here and tremble with anger and despair. I have never wept so hard for so long. My home, Great Nananne’s house, which my beloved Louis had so painstakingly restored after the storm of Katrina, is gone. All is lost, burnt to the ground; I have lost everything. Walter, thank you for your timely text message. You will die for this by my hand. Make no mistake; have no doubt in your mind. I will find you. 9 comments|post comment

New Orleans [02 Nov 2008|12:33pm] [ mood | happy ] The place of my birth, a city of vibrant, beautiful energy. A place of so many beginnings and endings. I cannot wait to step foot again, onto the soil of my home. post comment

Scandinavia [11 Jul 2008|10:54pm] [ mood | annoyed ] These nights I roam Northern Europe like the ghosts that I still see from time to time. Ancient castles, bleak and silent fill me with distant thoughts, but my mind isn’t on the stone and cold drafts that whisper past my cool skin. My thoughts are on my girlhood and of one man that, for the brief time he graced my life, changed it for the better.   Matthew.   If my mother ever did anything right in her life, it was to let him into ours. If she ever truly loved, it was this kind and generous man. It was Matthew that would come and find me, sitting sullen and alone. It was a gentle hand on my shoulder and a warm smile that that melted my lack of trust like spring sunshine on the last traces of snow. He was beyond patient with the strange green-eyed girl who hardly ever smiled.   I would have done anything, for him. I smiled, just for Matthew and when he died, any shadow of happiness that I knew died with him for a very long time. His last few days of suffering and pain were hard for me to bear. It was in those times when I whispered that I loved him and called him ‘father’. It was in those times that I wished he really was.   The air is cool and damp where I’ve made my lair this night, and I sit with my bare feet on a dirty stone floor, penning this in ink until I can find an internet connection. Because of Walter, I stay away from lavish hotels and communication for as long as I can. I sleep beneath the earth in a somewhat remote location.   But if there is one thing that Matthew taught me, it was not to fear or be intimidated. Constant threats and angry messages that seem to find me no matter what, have caused me great anger. No more.   It is time the hunter became the hunted.   post comment

Amsterdam [27 May 2008|04:17am] [ mood | determined ] The rain was cold despite the warm spring start. Mona shadowed me along the narrow streets of London after we’d hunted and fed. We’d checked out of our hotel and our flight to Amsterdam would not wait. I hailed a taxi, tipping him well for placing our luggage in the truck. It was all arranged.   Speaking with Lestat had fired an anger in me once again. There was nothing that would stand in my way; I would find out what they had done with Louis’ blood and retrieve any left that I could. There would have been tests done, there was a lab and all reports and evidence would be destroyed as soon as I could manage it.   Three a.m., and we finally checked in at the Amster Inter Continental. How now Walter? Where could you possibly be my dear Monsieur Vanhoutte…? I felt his disquieted presence and I knew whatever deep sleep he may have been in, he was now fully awake.   Perfect. post comment

[20 Mar 2008|01:12pm] [ mood | cheerful ]  He doesn’t know what I’ve had carefully shipped from my home in New Orleans to London England. I imagine he thinks I’ve forgotten what this day is, as I may have once or twice so many years ago. I wanted to gift him with something interesting, something that speaks of me, yet would remain unique to him long after I have gone. I will not remain here indefinitely, as tempting as it is. I understand that this is not some fanciful romance that could have been once upon a time. But still. I cannot leave without spending a little selfish time in his company. Does this make me wicked? Does this make me foolish? I’ve been called so – many times and it really doesn’t make any difference to me. I am a woman who follows her own calling. I always have been. The pale blue dress made from velvet I have chosen hugs my small frame like a lover and I think of pretty spring flowers and the smell of violets. Tiny straps follow the curve of my cold shoulder to delicate buttons that flow down to the small of my back. I cover myself with a matching wrap over bare arms; the night is cool with light rain. Black hair is piled on top of my head in waves and I have wrapped the precious gift in a box with wrapping paper that says ‘Happy Birthday!’ in bright yellow letters. I was worried that it would be broken as clay doesn’t travel well half way around the world. I am surprised it has survived so long. David retrieved it upon my death and then sent it back with love before he disappeared once again from my life. A tiny statue of an African Goddess – her shape and face unrecognizable with age, so I don’t know who she is. She sat for as long as I can remember upon Great Nananne’s shrine and there were so many that I didn’t ask about her identity. Now that I hold the box near, I sense a power there that I didn’t before. This was used for many spells and comes from a place both dark and light. It is a good gift, he will find that it holds an ancient magic. He waits for me in the lobby and we will find a nice place to sit and talk, perhaps a quiet restaurant where I can watch him open this little box. Happy Birthday Ian. 4 comments|post comment

Remembering My Religion [04 Feb 2008|08:44pm] [ mood | calm ]  When I chose death over life, I saw my great grandmother waiting in the light for me. I saw her and went to her, leaving behind everything that I knew. I would never make it and my last view of the world was waving farewell to an awestruck Tarquin Blackwood and taking with me the spirit of his twin brother Garwain. The ghost that had always been known as Goblin went with God while I plummeted into darkness and oblivion. I was no longer the tall green-eyed Merrick Mayfair. Lost, and in a state of utter confusion – there was no God for me. There was no Papa Legba standing at the crossroads, no St. Peter. Where was my Mèt Tèt, my guardian angel? Nowhere. Great Nananne was gone and so was all light, sense of love and awareness of existence. This is no place for a soul, whether vampire or human, to be. That I awoke with a memory intact, that I knew I was the famous witch and drunk of the Talamasca, the once vampire fledgling of Louis…was a miracle in itself. You see, I remember well the hollowness of that surreal existence and that such faith and powerful magic brought me back to this world has shaken me to the core. I had lost my beliefs the moment the doorway to the afterlife faded from view and I became nothing, adrift in an empty sea. I regained them when the sun shone delicately on my skin and didn’t burn me black. I was human, whole and alive. Oh, you wonder how I could give it all up? Faith. I trusted my God of the Roman Church and I trusted all of the Lwa to show me where my path lay. I had returned, to return. Uncle Vervain always knew that time didn’t tick for me. He saw my fate was sealed in immortality and to that I am bound, but not without dueling doubt and conviction. Before I gained access to my former life through whatever means I could; before I found that number to contact David’s people, I stood outside the doors of Our Lady of Guadalupe on the edge of the French Quarter. I marched into the small chapel and I knelt at the alter and prayed with all my heart. “Father.” I said. “Bring me back to my family. Show me the path that I must walk upon as you have placed me once again on this earth.” That night I made the alter to the Saints and the Lwa and I carefully laid the offerings where they should be and cut my hand, giving my own blood as a sacrifice. I lit the candles and sprayed the rum calling to speak to the spirits. I was desperate and I weaved a powerful spell to speak with whatever deity would come through. I awoke at dawn with no memory of who had possessed me. The candles had burned down to nothing and I was there on the floor flat on my back in Angelique’s living room - staring at the ceiling as if it was the most interesting thing I’d ever seen. I had no recollection of how the night passed and how I’d come to be unconscious, but I trusted. The magic was there and it flowed through me then as surely as Louis’ blood once did. I felt it deep in my bones and softly on my fingertips. I could hear it in my breath and I knew that God had heard me and answered my prayer. The Lwa had given me a powerful message. I was whole again as if I’d never left and although I had fallen out of time I was bound to a destiny that I’d cut short. I was not going to reside in heaven – that was clear. Oh, yes, that door was shut tight, but another had opened. My course had been plotted long ago and even though I had abruptly veered away, I was back on and I wasn’t getting off this time. Even though I sought desperately to find my cousin and give back - that which was not mine….it was meant to be. Even as I failed to bring her in, I knew it and felt my destiny. I will never forget that day and night of desperate prayers and magic. Ever night I light two candles in thanks for my answered prayers. No matter where I am or whom I’m with, I will light the small candles and give thanks for my prayers being heard, my desires granted and my feet set back on the road where they belong. post comment

[02 Dec 2007|04:17pm] In 2007, vodun_princess resolves to... Learn to play the bloodrose904. Start a mrs_catrina fund. Find a better morbidromancex. Drink four glasses of claireydid every day. Overcome my secret fear of flambeauvivants. Go to the mercilessones every month. Get your own New Year's Resolutions: </div 13 comments|post comment

[28 Nov 2007|10:36am] [ mood | content ] Dear Santa... Dear Santa, This year I've been busy! Last Monday I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points). Last month I ruled Asscrackistan as a kind and benevolent dictator (700 points). In May I bought porn for divine_elegy (-10 points). In February flambeauvivant and I robbed a bank (-50 points). Last week I punched vmariusromanusv in the arm (-10 points). Overall, I've been nice (622 points). For Christmas I deserve a new bike! Sincerely, vodun_princess Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username: *Grins* 4 comments|post comment

Along the River [12 Nov 2007|08:16pm] [ mood | peaceful ] I drove out to North London and found myself walking in almost pitch black along the River Lea. There was a time once in mid winter when I had walked these very same steps with him by my side. A young girl of 21, I’d worn my new pearls that he’d given me on my birthday a few months before and a pretty wool suit. He’d asked why on earth I was all dressed up in high-heeled shoes for a casual walk in rainy weather. I had changed the subject within seconds and pointed to a pair of black swans speaking quickly about how beautiful they were as they swam in tandem towards us; hoping for a morsel of bread. It was for him of course, all of it. The pretty shoes that shaped my calves just so, the pearls he’d given me and my hair swept up and back in an elegant coiffure. I flirted shamelessly that afternoon and he tried to talk about how I was progressing within the order and was I happy in London? Did I miss New Orleans? Did he not notice me? I brushed up against him and smiled at him as if his every word was fresh honey dripping from his tongue. How enraptured I was, how in love - how I miss him now. post comment

London - Con't [30 Oct 2007|08:27pm] [ mood | restless ]  My hair pulled back and away from my face, cascaded down my back in simple black tresses. Silver hoop earrings dangled and shimmered in the subdued lighting and I wore a pretty wool dress of the darkest violet. I sat there; my hands folded in front of me and waited. I knew I was early and so the server would leave me be I ordered a glass of their finest red wine. A sweet scent of dark ripe berries and overtones of rich chocolate rose from the maroon beverage. It smelled delicious and I inhaled deeply. I missed these fine things, the taste of expensive wine, the feeling of warm café au lait sending a tingle through my limbs. But don’t get me wrong; nothing compares to the blood. Nothing. Ian entered the restaurant looking elegant and sophisticated in a dark blue suit carrying a dozen roses of deep red. They were thornless and held together with matching red velvet ribbons. His stride was always long and graceful but he took his time getting to me – as if he were hesitant and anxious to see me at the same time. He spoke softly when he finally stood before me, speaking sweet compliments as he handed me the beautiful bouquet. I smiled up at him and pressed the soft petals against my face to experience the sweet and delicate fragrance. They wouldn’t last long, but I saw that each stem was encased in its own clever plastic vile filled with water. At least they wouldn’t wilt before I could get them into a vase. “Ian these are gorgeous, thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten flowers from anyone,” I smiled. “Pity,” he remarked. “I would have thought there were those that sent them to you nightly.” I laughed lightly and explained that ‘those’ individuals were far away and engaged in their own lives. He shook his head as if this explanation were ridiculous. “If it was me that held your fancy, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight,” he chided, clearly making a point. “I don’t need to be in anyone’s ‘sight’, and we keep in touch often.” I replied back. I didn’t want the conversation to be heated and I knew he was speaking of Louis’ sudden departure to be with Lestat. “You don’t understand; it’s not the same when you’re no longer mort ….” He cut me off and caught me off guard by grasping my cold hand in his warm much larger one. He swallowed me completely with those hands and the warmth that pulsed from him was exhilarating. “Don’t insult my intelligence; I know all too well how it is with your kind. My life has been spent indulging myself on the mysteries of immortals beings, such as yourself.”” he spoke low and urgently trying to pull me closer to him across the table. I’d wounded him and the hurt in his eyes made me blush with guilt. He was always a sensitive man. I’d made sure to feed well this night but pulled away as the temptation to be so near him was overwhelming. I could have easily taken ‘the little drink’ if only for a moment if I’d let myself. I stopped cold at this thought as it horrified me and I was embarrassed and angry with myself. This was an old friend! This was someone who loved me! Then even as I’d taken care to hide my thoughts from him – I realized that he knew how close I’d come. “Would you do it Merrick? Would you really take advantage of this moment and take something I would never offer?” he demanded. For several seconds I couldn’t answer. It wasn’t my mind that he’d read, but me. The Merrick he knew a little too well. The cunning, manipulating woman that despite these terrible traits he wanted so much. “No,” I said softly. “I would not, but you see what I am? I tried to tell you, to warn you – I’m a predator.” post comment

London Lights [19 Oct 2007|08:30pm] [ mood | curious ] I believe it was regret and memories too close to the surface for my comfort that made me come here. The last time I’d seen Monsieur Manning was months before I became aware of David’s new life; both trapped in a young beautiful body and Lestat’s newest fledgling. We never said good-bye…Ian and I. We merely always  parted with a “see you soon”  or a “call me later”. The later could be six months away or longer – it didn’t matter. In retrospect, it was comfortable being with him and he was a loyal and kindhearted friend. I cared for him very much and I owed him my time but the Talamasca would be left out of our conversation.   This was between him and me, a closure and a proper goodbye. There is nothing that I can give him. I am not one to keep mortal friends close and even though I may still care for him deeply – I care too much to get too close.   Lingering in my hotel room before I made my way to the street below to find a taxi, I gazed across this magnificent history filled city. Paris may be the City of Light, but London shone like a beacon to the world, inviting all to experience her wealth of amazing antiquity and her current multicultural hospitable warmth.   The night was welcoming and although I was at a loss as to what I was going to say to him, I was glad to be in this city without the thought of Walter or the Order. I felt defiant and adopted an ‘I could care less about you’ attitude. So what if they knew I was here? I had no intention of going anywhere near the Motherhouse and if I discovered any member following me….. God help them. I sent a powerful telepathic message out to Motherhouse. “Stay away from me or you will die.” Tired of their games, I was past all patience and if they didn’t believe I was a monster; I damn well was going to show them one.      I smiled to myself as I asked to be taken to La Trompette. Perhaps I’d stay awhile.   1 comment|post comment

An answer to your question.... [05 Oct 2007|07:59pm] [ mood | Sorry ] [ music | Sarah Mclaughlin ]   Ian. You were never a little secret. The secret was our lost child. I don’t wish to hurt you and I’ve never forgotten. You are merely a part of another lifetime. I wish you could see that. You come out at night That's when the energy comes And the dark side's light And the vampires roam You strut your rasta wear And your suicide poem And a cross from a faith That died before Jesus came You're building a mystery   You know I’ve known you for many years and in that time I’ve always cared deeply for you. I’ve also never lied about how I did or did not feel.   You live in a church Where you sleep with voodoo dolls And you won't give up the search For the ghosts in the halls You wear sandals in the snow And a smile that won't wash away Can you look out the window Without your shadow getting in the way Oh you're so beautiful With an edge and a charm But so careful When I'm in your arms   Did you wish me to lie to you? Or did you just want me to be someone else. Someone I could not be for you.   'Cause you're working Building a mystery Holding on and holding it in Yeah you're working Building a mystery And choosing so carefully What do you know of me now? You once knew the real Merrick Mayfair. What do you think of her in this new form, in this new life?   You woke up screaming aloud A prayer from your secret god You feed off our fears And hold back your tears Give us a tantrum And a know it all grin Just when we need one When the evening's thin   You are so beautiful in so many ways and I have regrets….many of them. Please understand that my past stays there. I am not a woman, I am a monster.   Oh you're a beautiful A beautiful messed up man You're setting up your Razor wire shrine Cause you're working Building a mystery Holding on and holding it in Yeah you're working Building a mystery And choosing so carefully Ooh you're working Building a mystery Holding on and holding it in   Yeah you're working Building a mystery And choosing so carefully   Why did you choose me Ian? After your many years in the Talamasca, why do you not understand how dangerous I am? I cannot be what you want me to be. And for that, I am so sorry. 3 comments|post comment

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