I am the vampire Lestat. I’m immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire—these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not.
The Vampire Lestat
He was a tall, slender young man, with ashen hair and violet eyes. He wore a dirty gray sweatshirt and jeans, and in the icy wind whipping along Michigan Avenue at five o'clock, he was cold.
Daniel Molloy was his name.
Queen of the Damned
‘Evil is a point of view,’ he whispered now. ‘We are immortal. And what we have before us are the rich feasts that conscience cannot appreciate and mortal men cannot know without regret.’
Interview with the vampire
“You make me hungry,” I whispered. “Not for you but for one who is doomed and yet alive. I want to hunt. Stop it. Why do you touch me? Why be so gentle?”
The Vampire Armand
Noah Bush, 8 years old, was found drowned in Jesup, Georgia in May 2024. He went out to play with neighborhood kids & never came home. After finding his body in a small body of water the sheriff’s office immediately announced it was accidental & for two months they did nothing.
I was perhaps seventeen years old when Marius made me into a vampire. I had stopped growing by that time. For a year, I’d been five feet six inches.
The Vampire Armand
“You cannot understand. But before I died, Lestat was absolutely the most overwhelming experience I’d ever had. Your cigarette has become one long cylindrical ash.”
“Oh!” The boy quickly ground the filter into the glass.
Interview with the vampire
“Allow me,” said the vampire. And, taking the book, he quickly put a lighted match to the boy’s cigarette. The boy inhaled, his eyes on the vampire’s fingers.
Interview with the vampire
And it was Daniel who must bed these unfortunates, if Armand could possibly arrange it, while he watched from a chair nearby, a dark-eyed Cupid with a tender approving smile.
Queen of the Damned
He was a tall, slender young man, with ashen hair and violet eyes. He wore a dirty gray sweatshirt and jeans, and in the icy wind whipping along Michigan Avenue at five o'clock, he was cold.
Daniel Molloy was his name.
Queen of the Damned
And it was Daniel who must bed these unfortunates, if Armand could possibly arrange it, while he watched from a chair nearby, a dark-eyed Cupid with a tender approving smile.
Queen of the Damned