The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I was born under a winter moon at the crux of dawn. A small fragile thing, pale and whimpering, against the churning of new life. I knew as I aged that my thoughts were not quite alike with others. Sleeping was a refuge, writing was a friend, dancing in the moonlight was my passion. Through primary education I learned that words have a way for me. Easily I excelled through the general studies. Before long my power to enthrall others became evident. I could hold a room by speaking clearly. I could will my wants into reality with little more than a red curl lifted on the wind.

My eyes are as grey as my witchcraft and as I learned to study and train my art I felt a rush of strength that I had never known. I entered higher education focusing my will on writing and sculpture. As a dedicated follower of Hekate my nights were spent with the torch-bearer and the wolves of my spirit. It was then that I noticed the rift in my soul. I began to feel a pull to the shadows that slowly crept over my waking hours. It was not long until my path brought me the strife that would begin my ascension.

I attended a gathering of minds to discuss the power of ley lines and the forces they promote and retract. The evening was crisp and alive with the songs of happy merits being touted amongst the gathering. In the whirl of intellect I was spinning. Floating through the different small groups, listening and offering in a purely organic fashion. Suddenly, like the crack of a wet whip, I felt eyes searing me. I looked reflexively to the figure leaning in the doorway. The casual way he stood, observing the motion in the room caught me. I smiled a slow-lipped cusp, which he gently returned. I could feel blood heating my chest as we surveyed each other. It was a true moment of slow motion consideration. But the spell was broken when I was pulled back into the conversation beside me. When I looked up again he was gone.

“You met Seirian.” Said the owner of the house. I had been staring into the refrigerator blindly. I retrieved a beer, popped the cap and turned slowly to meet his eyes. “Seirian.” I said, feeling the heat of the word on my tongue. “Is he always so… observery?” I asked trying to soften the structure of my thoughtful face. My friend gave me a knowing laugh and shrugged… “Pretty much.” We shared a moment in giggled silence before time again resumed its normal course. I was aware that something profound had occurred that evening. But still my mortal heart disallowed me the full truth.



"But first, on earth as Vampire sent,
Thy corpse shall from its tomb be rent:
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corpse.
Thy victims are they yet expire
Shall know the demon for their sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers withered on the stem."
-Lord Byron (Giaour)