The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Molten tears burned though the iron mask of happiness. Two crudely carved holes marked eyes, the two swirling sockets of remorse, pain and hate. The mask glowed dully in the faint light of hope but the hollows were darker than a madman’s soul, sucking in all light and goodness, devouring it.





The mask fell clumsily to her feet, revealing a scared and shamed individual. The tangled undergrowth of brown hair fell around her dishevelled head. One lone word tripped from her open mouth,

‘Sorry’

This word ran off her tongue like an oh so familiar taste, guilt.

Striding up to the microphone, his mind dancing a fast, exited samba with plans for tonight.

He grasped the microphone in two hands, bringing it close to his mouth. His sharp brown eyes, like freshly fallen leaves stared out into the crowd like spotlights. He felt alone on this stage, a warrior about to face the roman army alone.

The flood lights beamed down onto the stage. His own voice boomed out across the vast crowd announcing his band.

Ever since it had begun it had been his band and they blamed him for it.

He took one look back at the others, ruining a paper white hand through his long black hair. It felt cool and welcoming to touch.

The heavy bass line started and within seconds the drums began to beat out the all too familiar beat. The first thin, heart breaking electrical notes of the guitar filled the room. He took a deep breath and braced him self, filling his lungs with the thick, smoky air. He belted out the first sombre lines of the song. They rang out clearly over the screams and chants of the ever pressing crowd, meaningless to him; they may as well have been in tongues to his ears. The dark mass of young bodies seemed to swell and grow with every note. As if it powered them, fuelled them some how.