The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I was born in 1687 at a hospital in the south of France. To a loving couple named Claire and Edward Mallorey. Shortly after my birth, my father fell ill, and died at that very same hospital. I was to be brought up by a nanny and my mother to be remarried a few years later to one of the richest men in France. I was sent to a boarding school, barely visited by my mother and new father, James.

At the age of 12, I became very disobedient and was kicked out of my boarding school; I was brought home and taught by a tutor. A few years later I became deathly ill with the flu and was in the hospital, distended to die like my father. When a stranger came to visit one night at my bedside. Stroking my hair, whispering to me. I thought it was a dream. Until he kept showing up, Night after night. I was 17 years old, and I wasn’t strong enough to hold on much longer.

I waited for the dream to come, hoping that I would die peacefully in my sleep. Dreaming of the man that would save me from my fears of dying alone. For days he didn’t come, and for weeks I held on, waiting for the man to come, for weeks he did not show. I gave up, and decided that maybe I deserved to die in vain, while awake alone in the large room. I stopped eating what the nurses gave me, stopped drinking, and let myself die slowly.

Until one night, when I was weak with hunger, and thirst, he came once again to my bedside. I had decided that I was delusional from the lack of strength and energy in my body and ignored him. He stepped closer to me, and took my hand. His hands as cold as ice and his eyes, just as hypnotic as the sunsets in the spring. His strength was as strong as four men with iron fists. I looked at him with tears welling in my eyes, he whispered in my ear, asking if I was ready to die, captivated by his essence I was only able to nod my head. I closed my eyes and I felt a sharp pain from my neck throughout my body.



It was the night I died, in that hospital. The next day I was gone from my bed, disappeared in the middle of the night, my clothes were still there, my dinner still untouched by my weak hands. My mother came to visit that year, on my 18th birthday, they had decided to tell my mother and her husband that I had died during the night and that I cannot not be seen by her. As all funerals then, it was closed casket, the hospital had called ahead and told the funeral home that my casket, whatever they chose, was to be filled with a weight, for they had no body to speak of, and insisted that I had run off in the middle of the night, and had not been found by the police. I had watched the lies and treachery from my new life. I decided that I no longer wanted to live in France. I wanted to go elsewhere. I wanted to adventure and find something new. I was to leave my Sire behind.