The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

The afternoon, after the Day Before.
20:40 Feb 13 2007
Times Read: 1,065




A big man: in bulky clothing, Dominic Miller stumbled as he walked through the deep snow. He had to tread carefully. Miller knew that.

There could be loose snow underfoot and he wouldn’t know.

It’d been like this since The Big Freeze, which he had survived.

And he would survive.

So morosely, he trod a slow, careful path, as the blizzard continued to reign, wiping the snow off his goggles as he did so.

He passed a sign, almost obscured, saying ‘GIVE WAY!’

Smiling at the idea of giving way to traffic that no longer existed his good humour quickly gave way too ill temper, as every treacherous step of this foraging trip took longer than he’d expected.

Yet, Miller was sure he’d taken the right turn at the intersection. He was sure.

But, the driving wind made it so difficult to find his bearings. And, after while, wasn’t as sure as he had been.

But, he continued to walk – after all, what else was there to do? Give up, sit down and fall asleep, to die, as he had known others do?

No, that wasn’t his way.. He trudged on, passing one block after another.

Finally Dominic came to the blue iron door he knew.

He turned the handle – and entered.

Monitor activated lights brought forth illumination and Miller drew the goggles from his face.

He looked around, wiping the snow from his face, which was when he heard the sound: there was someone else in his rooms.

Cautiously Miller stepped forward and the main room, where the sound came from. He pushed the door open – and saw, a naked woman warming herself before an open fire. His home had no grate..

Mouth opening and closing, Miller finally smiled, sheepishly and said:

“Sorry, wrong house.”

A flames flickers, then splutters.
20:33 Feb 13 2007
Times Read: 1,066






With all that he had known in his few years, Geoff Leary knew that this was his Now.

He was tall and wiry; and sat, with his long legs drawn toward his chest, his chin on his knees, hands clasped together over his shins.

Geoff stared long and hard at the room’s only illumination: a single flickering flame, from a large red candle.

The candle had already worn halfway down – he’d been looking at it for hours.

Society considered him unconventional, for his thoughts, demeanours and dress sense.

And, perhaps he was, by their mediocre standards, he mused.

Yet, to the last – he had known himself.

Perception mattered not, nor did the extraneous influences brought to bear by others.

He was himself, centred and aware, having finally learnt.

It’d taken a lifetime and more, yet the experience of Life and the company of those he’d known had taught him all he’d needed, to be here, Now.

And the candlelight flickered.

There was a draught in the apartment, obviously.

Yet, it wasn’t important.

The Past, that had led to this Now.

The Past and his fiancée and his best friend.

The Past. Redundancy. And, a job he thought would provide towards his future.

His past and experience: everything had led to this, his Now.

Miller picked up the blade, sharp, deadly.

He held the handle tightly – feeling the knives weight.

It wasn’t heavy, considering the power it held.

Geoff stared at the flame, with the certain knowledge that with its end he would seek his own.

Then, his heartbeat fast as he heard footfall on the stairs outside his rooms.

He was alone. There was no-one expected: “A knock?”

There was a knock at the door. Abrupt noise in the silence dominating his small black room, lit by a candle.

“Geoff? Are you in?”

A voice, a woman’s voice. But who?

Thought. He had to think. Remember. Recall, the sound of her? Her name?

Ana. Ana Lucette. Ana Lucette Garcia.

That was it.

He lifted his gaze away from the flame and called into the darkness, “Ana, is that you?”

“Yes, it didn’t work…” She told him: “I came back, if you’ll have me?”

Geoff smiled, he had longed to hear those words, for so long.

The flame spluttered, then died.

And, in the darkness, as the blade fell to the floor, slick with his blood, Geoff Leary life ended, a final gasp of air sighing her name, “Ana.”

Project: Alpha
17:00 Feb 05 2007
Times Read: 1,114

The two scientists stood at a workbench, as one of them stared into the eyepiece of a microscope. As he looked intently at a slide, the man spoke with pride: “Using recombinant DNA, we can combine the base instincts and traits of several species, to produce a human being with the capabilities of one, or, many animals…”

He looked briefly to the man next to him, to ensure he was listening, and then continued talking.

“In lieu of the super-soldier serum that others have searched for, I feel we have the potential here for a Supra-Genus – a Homo Chimera, which will be oh-so much more than a super soldier could ever be.”

Jameson, Mason’s colleague, knew he was raving; yet the man was brilliant and the military would certainly pay handsomely for their work – he was sure of that.

Time passed.

Alone, in the dark deserted warehouse, liquid nutrients were fed from several pipes into the chemical mix within the incubation tank, to feed and sustain the hybrid.

The child cloned from the DNA of both human and animal had grown to maturity, fed with the memories of many, through liquid imprinting: and the subject had been voracious in its appetite, to absorb all it could.

It’d been a process begun many years earlier, in nineteen ninety: when Thor Mason had been grant-aided the funds needed to culminate his life’s work, by an agency hidden deep within the CIA.

Now the child was grown, prepared to claim their inheritance.

The subject, Alpha, had dreamed man’s dreams – prepared for the conflagration that would ensue after its awakening.

The makers had assumed, foolishly, that Alpha would gestate as a human – but, with the growth accelerated, so was the birth.

And, finally, Alpha woke: lean and muscular, with the eyes and cunning of feline DNA, listening intently before moving.

Alpha ensured that there was no-one to monitor departure from the warehouse, which had been both parent and home, nurturing Alpha, while growth took place.

And slowly, cautiously, fingers clasped the edges of the tank, as Alpha stood erect, mind sentient with the possibilities of birth, life and death.

Alpha walked toward the main door, still unprotected.

The warehouse was out of town – what need was there for guards: ‘after all,’ Mason believed with supreme arrogance, ‘my creation isn’t ready yet and won’t be, for months.’

The doors were slid open and the world outside waited.

Alpha left home and ran, naked and free – to hunt, for a mate: and food for her child.

The House Called Nowhere
23:14 Feb 02 2007
Times Read: 1,133




We had taken the road over the river, into the university part of town that pleasant summers day.

Then, because the route ‘looked nice,’ my friend had taken a right turn.

We had found ourselves on an unsurfaced track by the side of a canal, some very nice houses to our left.

Tony had driven on and through a deep puddle that had cascaded water up either side of the car, which then spluttered and stopped.

I had got out and lit a cigarette, as he had quickly discovered that the engine was flooded and would have to dry out before we could get started again.

So, while Tony had opened a can of beer, I’d looked round and that was when I’d found out that the cars engine had died outside a house called ‘Nowhere’…

For, in red letters on a white background, that’s what the small sign on top of the white-painted double gates had read: ‘Nowhere.’

It had weirded me out.

Tony had pulled the ring-pull on a Bud, passing one to me, then said, “So, what’s so interesting then?”

I’d chugged back on the can’s contents, burped, then pointed to the sign and smiled: “See that?”

He’d squinted, peering hard against the bright sunlight, then grinned, “So, we’re…”

“Stuck outside a house called ‘Nowhere.’” I’d completed for him: “Yep!”

I’d thought it quite hilarious – yet, worth investigating, so led the way, as we’d clambered over the gate, calling back, “So, are you coming then?”

And, Tony had followed, as I’d walked down a long gravel path, flanked by either side by an orchard of apple trees.

The stones had crunched underfoot as we’d traversed our way towards the large whitewashed house with black timberwork.

Even at a distance, the house had looked empty and desolate: and this thought had been confirmed for me by the dark interior I could just glimpse through the triangle of a grimy, lead-light window.

“Hey look!” Tony called.

I’d turned to him, to watch the path shimmer then shift, undulating, as it lengthened its distance toward the horizon, the green of the orchard no more than a blur – and my head had begun to swim.

Then, as the world had tilted, just a little of its axis, I’d realised I was going to faint.

As it transpires, we both had.

Now, the world we had known is no more.

The house is our home – and I think it feels pleased to have our company, joining the souls it had drawn here before us.