The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

The Old Man sat in his rocker, thinking about the past. Gazing over a cornfield during the twilight, he saw something he thought he would never see again...a sight that if he wasn't already stoned would give him a heart attack. Lucky for him he came into a good thing when he married a garderner.She was 5ft tall with a sway in her step.An irish/german girl with straight cole black hair and the bluest eyes you've ever seen.He smoked the finest herb east of the mississippi.Let me start with a somewhat beginning of the tale of the Old Man.ok...borne in manhattan presbitarian. A product of some whores "mistakes" that she "never got around to"...on account of the rigors of being a crackwhore hooked to smack as well.

The Old Man told me once that his "mother" ,as if the term were like licking battery acid,had killed a puppy, his puppy."that'll teach you..." she said while cutting the laundry line away from the puppys neck and body."next time you'll clean your room and i won't have to deal with your bullshit!"...yea....makes no sense does it.But thats what the Old Man said."her words not mine" as he chugged a glass of beer quicker than you can blink. He grew up in New York with no real friends. he has/had friends but when your younger you sometimes don't realize that you DO have friends. Not conventional ones anyway.



It took me 3 decades to see that. I lost everything, or what I THOUGHT was everything back in the woods of upper NY State. Hiking along the trails of the Appalachian Mt.'s with my brother and some of his "friends". We came across a wounded wolf. So close to death. I approached this majestic creature with fear. I won't lie. But I was compelled to go closer. Black on silver with red where the bullet had obviously gone through him. He fixed his eyes upon mine and I felt a lifetime of freedom, Not mine, but this wolf's life. As I stepped closer and closer the wolf seened to accept it's fate and saw I was not the enemy, but an admirer. A servant sent to comfort him in his last moments. As I ran to the truck to get a blanket, my brothers friends came across the wolf and in my absense brutally stomped this creature to death. Upon my return I saw the final blows that snapped the wolfs neck while they laughed and danced in disrespect of this mighty creature who had wanted a moments peace before death. I had felt an anger like none other that day. If I had allowed that rage to consume me, I would have slaughtered them where they stood with my buck-knife and let the rest of the animals feed upon their carcasses. As I buried this wonderful animal I felt the presence of stares at my back. I turned to see who was behind me. When I turned it was a lone single whimpering wolf come to bid her mate farewell. Never once feeling afraid as I knew she would bring me no harm, she didn't even so much as glance at me. But was fixated on her dead mate. I lay the body before her in ritual attonement for the sins of man and bow my head in respect. I remember the howl she let out. I've never felt a wolfs howl, not like that one. It was as if she was crying to the gods for US.Not just her lover but for me. I cried with that wolf, buried her kin as she stood and watched, and watched her run off into the mountains.

10 years have passed and a day does not go by that the wolf I buried deep in the Appalachian's doesn't come to me in my dreams. I have named him Sanjhi. He is my guide and my friend. I have come to trust and rely soley on my instincts. Smell, hearing, taste. I don't trust my eyes, but my 3rd tells me what to do and look for. I haven't told many about that day on the mountain if any. But dreams of that day on the mountain have been invading my sleep. Dreams of murder and ritualistic feasting on the dead. They are real in my dreams, but I don't remember any of this. Am I going mad or did I slip into one of my blackouts? I'm lost and frightened. Sanjhi stands by the pyre where his gaze leaves not mine. I am one with Sanjhi and slaughter his killers. Sanjhi's pack comes to the pyre and watches as I disembowel what used to be my brother and his friends. I weep not and feed the pack from my own hands, dripping with my brothers blood and endtrails. All the pack bites my hand, but not violently. As if I am chosen to run with them. I crawl on all fors tp Sanjhi and nip at his chin. A sign of respect and submission for the respected Alpha male now dead. As I rise, all the wolves attack and tear at MY chin. I feel at peace,even in this melee of teeth and claws. When I see the sun, and the smoke from the pyre clears. I notice no sign of my brother or his friends. Oh my God. Did I really do what I dreamt? Have I killed my brother? In a way, I don't really care. It's been 10 years. I decided to return to the mountains where the dream keeps calling me to. Did I slaughter them? Did I allow the spirits the wolves followed to consume me? I must go back and see, these dreams are getting out of hand.