THE FOUR DEATHS OF THE VAMPIRESS SATINE.
oneโ โ โ โ โ โ(the death of celine laurent):โ โ โ โ โ โโ โ โ โ โ โfor all intents and purposes, celine laruent is dead.โ โ โ โ โ โshe is dead in spirit and she is dead to all who knew herโ โ โ โ โ โ(and those were a very few, because to know her was to be more than a body to her, was to allow her to open herself upโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โin retrospect, its as if no one knew celine laurent).โ โ โ โ โ โceline was found on the streets of montmarte by harold, a man who was just about to finish his creation:โ โ โ โ โ โa beautiful dance hall, a bordello as well, and he had a vision.โ โ โ โ โ โthis place, decorated with a red windmill, would need a star:โ โ โ โ โ โand there sat, starving and desperate on the streets, a red headed girl looking for somewhere to sleep, somewhere with a roof, somewhere that needed her.โ โ โ โ โ โhe offered her his hand, and celine took it with hesitation.โ โ โ โ โ โthere he asked for her name, and with one quick swing of a knife, against her own throat in her own mind, was the first death.โ โ โ โ โ โ" satine, "โ โ โ โ โ โshe answered, and he grinned, that was a name of a starโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โin that moment, celine laurent was dead, killed by someone who was both her and not her.โ โ โ โ โ โthe name meant nothing in that very moment, and the name would mean nothing to anyone ever again.
twoโ โ โ โ โ โ(the dimming of mortality):โ โ โ โ โ โโ โ โ โ โ โit was across time that the duke had hinted at a future for satine, one beyond fame and stardom, but something so unholy it rose above that.โ โ โ โ โ โshe had learned to never care for the sanctity of her actions, and where they fell in the religious gaze of those who sat just outside of montmarte with judgmental gaze.โ โ โ โ โ โit intrigued her, but never enough to care for his timeโ โ โ โ โ โโโ-โ โ โ โ โ โuntil she needed to be a very part of his time to save herself, harold, and all the dancers who relied on her steadfast determination.โ โ โ โ โ โit was here that he promised her no more pain, no more anguish, and eternal beauty.โ โ โ โ โ โ" a gift,"โ โ โ โ โ โwas what he called it, as he sunk his teeth into her nick, and drained her slowlyโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โslowly.โ โ โ โ โ โshe grew cold, she grew quiet, and then suddenly there was nearly nothing, with the last thing she could see being christian's face, as if he were there, as if he were watchingโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โand the first thing she had called out was his name, after the dukes wrist dropped from her lips, after blood dripped onto the floor as she clung to each and every sound around her with an awareness she hadn't previously had.โ โ โ โ โ โit was here that satine, was officially dead, and yetโ โ โ โ โ โโโ-โ โ โ โ โ โofficially alive once more.
threeโ โ โ โ โ โ(the falsification of her last breath):โ โ โ โ โ โโ โ โ โ โ โwhen harold had informed satine that if she dared try and stay with christian, the duke would only have him killedโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โshe believed him.โ โ โ โ โ โthe duke was, as harold described, a powerful man, and now as she sat, hearing her own blood pumping, feeling over aware of everything around her, she knew that was true.โ โ โ โ โ โshe sat in fear, she waited in fear of what the duke could do beyond the trap that he had placed her inโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ so she went the next night, right before the opening of spectacular, spectacular, to tell christian that she was choosing the dukeโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โbut when she got to him, the sight of christian was too much, the smell of him even worse.โ โ โ โ โ โshe had wanted him before, craved his touch and his words and his love, but never like this, never with the quiver in her lip that wanted to attached onto the crook of his neck, noโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โnever like this.โ โ โ โ โ โshe did her best, still reeling from the "gift," and left him there in shambles, screaming for her and begging to know what was wrong.โ โ โ โ โ โit pained her in a way she hadn't thought possible, as if the ache was accentuated by a drug that flowed within her.โ โ โ โ โ โit didn't matter tho, this ache was hers and hers alone, the duke was her companion, it had to be so.โ โ โ โ โ โthat is:โ โ โ โ โ โuntil christian showed up to her performance, a performance that almost drove her madโ โ โ โ โ โโโ-โ โ โ โ โ โshe knew then, as her hands shook and eyes connected to the vein in his neck, that he had to be hers, and the dukeโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โwhatever would happen, would happen.โ โ โ โ โ โit was harold who had informed her only the night before that she was dying, and if it was a show they wantedโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โthen it was a show they would get.โ โ โ โ โ โso she died in his arms, she took a breath and coughed up blood she spit from her inner cheek, she died to save him, she hurt him to save him.โ โ โ โ โ โto the moulin, to harold, satine had died there on the stage, where she was always meant to be.โ โ โ โ โ โthe duke, instead of ripping her apart as he wished, abandoned her, as he had many fledglings before.โ โ โ โ โ โshe would starve, and suffer, and go mad with hunger, and if he had his way:โ โ โ โ โ โshe would've torn christian's throat out instead.โ โ โ โ โ โbut, no.โ โ โ โ โ โsatine was dead to them all, to all of them except christian, for whom she revealed her fabrication later on that night.โ โ โ โ โ โsatine was declared dead, satine would no longer be a problem, not to paris, not to the moulin.
fourโ โ โ โ โ โ(the cessation of immortality):โ โ โ โ โ โโ โ โ โ โ โthere would be no forgetting of christian's voice, it was an impossibility.โ โ โ โ โ โdecades could pass, even hundreds of years and it would not matter:โ โ โ โ โ โit was there, in the back of her mind like a haunting, always ready to whisper in her ear and have her check over her shoulder for his hair or his eyes.โ โ โ โ โ โnever was he actually seen, and with every passing year, with every reckless decision, she would grow lonelier, lonelier, lonelier.โ โ โ โ โ โthat is, within itself, a madness, to crave something untouchable, to love someone that death had taken.โ โ โ โ โ โit kept making her worse, and he slowly grew louder, and louder.โ โ โ โ โ โweeping or cries, screams or whispers, she could hear every breath of him in the corners of walls or in the key of a piano.โ โ โ โ โ โand without him, mistakes became her second nature, tactics used to draw and dull the sound or subdue the hurt only became more and more of a reminder of the empty room she would sleep in, of the coffin that felt far too large for her liking without another iced body pressed next to her.โ โ โ โ โ โit was one night tho, when the voice had turned from a crying to a begging, that she stared out an open window into the moonlight that bathed her skin.โ โ โ โ โ โhe called, he called, he begged, with a whimper that she knew and neededโ โ โ โ โ โ...โ โ โ โ โ โso, it was one night when she sat outside for all hours until the sun rose, sitting and letting his voice carry in the winds to ease her until a sense of peace, even as the sun burned and pulled her apart.โ โ โ โ โ โmany men had tried to disect her like this before, but none had succeeded like him:โ โ โ โ โ โher christian, who, with his whimpers and cries, lulled her into the sun, into nothingness.
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