The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Dan was just your ordinary guy, with an ordinary job – doing ordinary things among the work place. Dan led an ordinary life, with ordinary friends – doing ordinary things throughout the day. Dan never really minded his “ordinary” life too much, but occasionally Dan would think about it. He would think of how nice it would be to live an “Unordinary” life for a day – even if it was just for a minute....





“Is that report done Dan?” barks a man in a deep voice. “Almost sir, I will have it to you by 4 pm.” Dan replies to the man. “4 pm! Taking it down to the wire again I see. If you value your job you will have it to me by 3 pm and no later.” says the man gruffly as he turns to head down the hall. Dan looks at his watch, it reads 2:13 pm...He sighs and picks up the phone and dials a number....





The phone rings the monotonous ring it always has, a man answers...”Jack speaking; what can I do for you?” greets the man. “Jack, it is 2:13 and you haven't faxed over that file I need for my report. You said you would have it to me at noon; where is it???” replies Dan. “Hey how ya doin Danny boy! Eh, on that file you needed, something came up and I haven't been able to prepare it. Call up Alice and she can prep it for--” says Jack in a happy go lucky voice.





“--What do you mean something came up?!? I needed that file by noon, and you now tell me you don't have it prepped so I can call Alice up and have her spend an hour prepping a file I don't have an hour to wait on!!!! The report is due on Mr. Voltaire's desk at 3 pm, not 4 pm – 3 pm!!!” Dan yells into the phone. “Look Dan I am sorr--” Jack exclaims. “--I don't give a flying fuck, make something happen! You call Alice and whoever else it is going to take to make that file appear on my desk by 2:30!” Dan slams the phone down, holds his head while staring at his half finished report.





“I just want an unordinary life for a second, that's all I ask.” he thinks to himself. The phone rings, breaking Dan's set thought of an “unordinary” life. He fumbles to answer the phone. “Dan speaking!” he grumbles in the phone. “Uh yes, Mr. Kroening, your wife is on line #4.” answers a softly spoken female. “Thank you Margret.” he replies as he switches over to line #4. “Hey dear!” he answers happily. “Dan, I am sorry for my poor timing with this call and everything, I mean, I know you have that account your trying to wrap up and all--” replies his wife. “--Hun, what are you talking about?” retorts Dan in a confused tone. “Dan...I want a divorce, the papers are on the counter when you get home, the kids and I are at Mom's. Look I gotta go...” states his wife before hanging up.





Dan sits with the phone resting to his ear – listening to dead silence on the other end – numb to what just happened. Maybe it hasn't all sunk in for him, as his look is blank – no emotion, absolutely nothing...He sits and sits and sits with the phone still to his ear, listening to the operator babbling the pre-recorded message about hanging up phone and trying again. His head spins – vision becomes blurry, his chest feels heavy – burning throughout his veins...





Something catches his eye, as his eyes focus on the computer monitor; he sees an email that reads...”Dan, I can't get that file you need. I have to run and pick up my daughter from school; she got hurt at recess. Maybe tomorrow for that file – Thanks, Alice”.





Dan's eyes become bloodshot as he stares at the monitor blankly, without blinking, still holding the phone to his ear. His eyes wander to the time on the computer screen, it reads 3:19 pm. He swallows dryly, his hearing becomes hollow sounding, aural perception is slowed.



Time is in utter slow motion...he hears a thud and slowly looks to see that a door down the hall has opened, a blurry figure has begun an eternal journey to what appears to be leading to his desk.





Dan merely stares blankly - without blinking as the figure, in slow motion, approaches his desk. The figure is close enough now that Dan can make it out despite his blurry vision – it is Mr. Voltaire. Voltaire's mouth begins to open wide and move slowly, his hands slowly waving about in the air – occasionally pointing to things. Dan stares without blinking – without sign of emotion – eyes bloodshot – with the phone still held to his ear....





Mr. Voltaire's mouth continues to slowly move... “--YOU HEAR ME KROENING!? YOU'RE FIRED! I WANT YOU OUT OF HERE BY 4!!!” Mr. Voltaire screams as he walks briskly away. Dan zones back out of his trance – boiling – without sign of emotion – wanting to cry – wanting to scream – wanting to be free from within...





“Kroening, you were always my best man. Can't believe you had this account closed and secured; one week before due date. And as always you got your report in to me 2 hours ahead of deadline. Keep this up and you are going to get a promotion.” proudly boasts Mr. Voltaire. “No problem sir, just doing my job!” replies Dan with a smile. “By the way Kroening, tell your wife I appreciated the cookies she baked.” responds Mr. Voltaire. “Sure thing Mr. Voltaire.” replies Dan as his boss heads back to his office.





The phone rings...Dan fumbles to answer it. “Dan speaking?” “Uh yes, Mr. Kroening, your wife is on line #3.” a softly spoken female answers. “Thanks Margret.” Dan replies as he switches over to line #3. “Hey hun!” he answers excitedly. “I know I wasn't supposed to call until 5, but I just wanted to make sure you were going to leave work on time. Otherwise, we will miss our dinner reservations.” answers his wife. “Everything is fine, I finished the Dade account and turned in the report. I will actually be leaving in about 20 minutes.” he replies “Oh okay, well I will see you then, love you.” she says “I love you too, bye hun.” he replies as they both hang up.





Dan organizes some papers on his desk, files away a few things, cleans his computer monitor, and turns on call forwarding. He opens his briefcase and begins to pack some of his paperwork into it – he closes it and locks it. Dan stands up, stretches, grabs his breifcase, and starts heading towards the elevator....he steps off the elevator and heads to the office entryway and exits.





It is a beautiful day, the breeze is just right, the sun is gleaming its brilliant gleam it always has – everything is great. He starts to cross the street...a half a horn honk and a bright flash that doesn't even last more than a split second – so fast – all turns black in a microsecond.





Nothingness....to the unordinary...

New York City: October 4th, 2021 - 1:28 am



A breeze blows a newspaper along the ground past a bench where a homeless man lies sleeping, lost in his dreams of hope and fortune. A street lamp nearby him flickers trying to stay a lit, the city is quiet for it is night. Usually booming at all hours of day with its population, but not tonite, as it is oddly quiet. The occasional sound of cars can be heard, and of course the breeze whispering about softly, the sound of night is calm. The breeze ruffles the homeless man's hair, he stirs to get comfortable, trying to resume his sleep of things never to be.



Once back asleep, the man dreams of fortune and family, his lips curl with a smile. Fortune and family is all he ever wanted to have, but one's luck can only run so far in the game of life...So he found his home on the streets. This was not the direction he wanted his life to go, and he wishes everyday his luck would change. He wanders about in his dream, socializing with

other individuals with riches and things ever so great. "So Charlie, looks to me as you have yourself a nice family there, and might I say, one hell of a ride you got there!" says a fellow man of wealth and greed. "Well Landerson, I worked hard on Wallstreet for it, to get where I am today. Yes it is a nice ride, got it for a sweet deal." replied Charlie. "Ah, how many greens did you dish for it?" said Landerson with a devious smile. "Only 200 grand, a real steal for my money." chuckles Charlie. "I will toast to that! To Charlie and his wheels, and lets not forget about his darling family!" Landerson says in a cheery manner as he raises his glass of a fine Chardonnay in the air. Everyone in the room stops conversing amongst eachother, raising their glasses to the toast, slowly turning their heads to look at Charlie, as does Landerson. "Well drink up lad. This is your time." says Landerson with a smug grin on his face.





Charlie stands holding his glass of the finest Chardonnay with a blank look on his face. The room holds an eerie silence within it, glasses are still raised, blurred faces stare in Charlie's direction. He raises his glass slowly in the air, midway up the glass slips from his grasp...falling...slowly...blurry...focused...falling...the glass shatters...The homeless man wakes up to a startling crash. He looks around slightly shaken. "You gotta get a grip on yourself Charlie." he thinks to himself. He spots an overturned trash can, watching the breeze push the trash about. "It was only that damn trash can." he thinks.





Charlie lays back down adjusting himself, pulling some newspaper back up over his body for warmth, he closes his eyes trying to go back to sleep. His eyes open wide to another sound of a clang. He sits up looking around again, checking out his surroundings. A single gunshot breaks the night calm, the homeless man who had a name, who had a dream of something never to be, slumps forward...falling to the ground in a heap of rags and filth, blood gushing out of his obliterated head. Chunks of flesh and brains peacefully come to rest in front of him. The night is calm, the breeze ruffles what is left of his hair...





Stratford Apartments: October 4th, 2021 - 1:36 am





Eyes wide open, Kane sits up drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. Lightning flashes, briefly illuminating his bedroom. Kane looks around his room, his breathing begins to return to normal. The roll of thunder makes its presence known. He pulls the sheets back and gets out of bed, stumbling into his bathroom, his sweaty hands clench onto the sides of the sink, as he leans on it to stare at his reflection in the mirror....Staring deeply into his brown eyes, he absorbs himself within his thoughts. Lightning flashes, and the hard crash of thunder follows with its brilliance. Focusing he re-studies himself in the mirror, his hand gently turning the water faucet on, he scoops up some water in his cupped hands and brings the chilled water to his face...the water trickles down his face, over his lips, and drips from his chin....a single bead of water drips from his chin...falling...slowly...it makes contact with the marble sink, disentegrating on contact.

Kane opens his eyes staring back in the mirror...staring...deeper into the reflection of his eyes...deeper...absorbing himself into his reflection...lightning flashes...thunder crashes loudly...





Eyes wide open, Kane sits up drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. Lightning flashes, briefly illuminating his bedroom. Kane looks to his bathroom, then to his window, the breeze ruffles his curtains, his breathing begins to return to normal. The roll of the thunder makes its presence known. He pulls the sheets back and gets out of bed, stumbling into his bathroom, his sweaty hands grasp the sides of the sink...he leans forward to study his reflection in the mirror...Lightning flashes......A man's heads bursts into a crimson red spray of chunks of flesh and brains, the man slumps forward to the ground, his head completely obliterated, forming a pool of blood around the man......and the hard crash of thunder follows with its brilliance. Kane frantically turns on the water faucet, scooping up some water in his cupped hands, bringing the chilled water to his face...the water trickles down his face, over his lips, and drips from his chin....a single bead of water drips from his chin...falling...slowly...it makes contact with the marble sink, disentegrating on contact. He reaches for a towel and dries off his face, sets the towel down and takes one last glance in the mirror and exits the bathroom.





He walks down the hallway entering the kitchen, opening the refridgerator grabbing a wine cooler. Kane takes a sip, and ponders over his vision he just experienced. "What does it all mean?" he thinks to himself. He wanders into the living room, where his roommate Dustin, is asleep on the couch in his boxers with a leg strewn up over the back of it. The TV is blaring infomercials. Kane sits down in his recliner and stares blankly at the high-definition flat screen television. Dustin rolls over and flatuates, waking himself up. Sitting up groggily Dustin reaches behind him and tosses Kane a pack of Marlboros. "Thanks man." Kane says. "I thought I would get you a pack since you said you were out. And it looks like to me you can't sleep worth shit, don't you work today?" Dustin replies sleepily. "Yea I work, as usual. Appreciate the smokes, I could use them. You're right man, I can't sleep worth shit. I keep having these weird dreams and when I went to the bathroom to wash my face I had this disturbing vision of some man getting shot in the head, a homeless man or something, I dunno it was tripped out." Kane says as he packs his cigarettes. "Crazyness, don't let it bother you man, it's probably nothing. Fuck, I gotta get up in five hours. By the way, Jessie called while you were out cold earlier, he said it was urgent or something." Dustin says while scratching his crotch. "Hrmmm, weird he never calls this late." replies Kane. Dustin gets up and grabs Kane's wine cooler, taking a big swig. "Thanks I was needing one." chuckles Dustin with a grin. "Yeah, yeah." Kane says sarcastically. Kane lights up a cigarette and continues to stare blankly at the TV as Dustin heads off into the kitchen scratching his ass.