The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

In the state of wonders of winter state, Amiel had walked around just for a chance to feel the wind upon his face. From the South side to the North side, his feet brought him and back again. To the East side, and finally back over the bridge; passing the stenches of the milk factory to the shavings of winter tears from the noses of the mortals walking great distances to get where they want to go. Some for thier next fix and some just to get there, and others just to be with no one at all where they can be seen some how, some way. The windows on the main street seemed decorated almost nicely to the eye without the lights for the season and those with the lights were best used as the clear where thier illuminating lights shone off the diamonds in the cases in the jewelery store. Each bridge happened to have the lights hanging from the high plugs on the very nearness of the lights branch.



Amiel pulled his cane up at the flip of his wrist up on his shoulder before he turned and looked around like an old English man smelling the air for the first time in eons. In his head, ran the nursery rhyems his mother had told him as a child. From One, Two to the one about the very little boy who kissed the girls and made them cry. His nose blew out the steam of fine air as he sighed and his mouth corners flew down. He remembered long ago to the day when he would freeze to death beyond compare if he were out at night. Out falling through the snow covered ice like he had as a boy yet recovered while his mother looked over him at his bed strenously.



In the distance, a car bumping with heavey metal from the undergrounds to the labels with cruiseing young adults riding in silance. They'd turn the music down ever so often to make a comment on something, but will go right back to it. One passenger looked at him with sadness that he caught like wild fire, while the rest paid him no attention.



The night sky seemed sprinkled almost with a star or two peeking from behind the clouds. This looked so familiar to him from the past frequent travels he had made in the over seas like Italy, Slovika, Iran, and so forth. Oh the times he had. Gondola rides, whore houses, and reading the Medievil laws when he finally gave in to learning to read after thirty years into his vampiric state. All the feelings this world could not give him that were lost in the times he had then.



A young man making a girlish screach as one of the party walking outside the gates of the church had thrown a snowall at his chest has sent Amiel's memories to the case of John Rykener. His hand gestures and feelings were sensative and mean like both a man and a women, but his appearance screamed both with attraction sparkling in his eyes as he brushed the snow off with a meaningful glare. On the eleventh of December in the year of 1395, John had confessed to crossdressing and prostitution. It was recorded that he slept with the married and unmarried men and women of Europe; including the priests and nuns, which he favored the priests from thier hefty pay of secrecy change pouches. Dressing and living as a women since the first time Elizabeth Brodenerer had dressed him, like her daughter Alice,and called him Elenore. He had been caught with a partner by an official and sent to prison.With a huff and a stand on one femine feature, the young man demanded an appology. It was given and he hugged his friend with a rye smile, promising intimate payback as a reprocussion for the act.



This reminded him of a quote he'd heard along his journey from an old man dressed in white from when he'd left the church, due to his unsatisfactory in celibay: "God willed the diversity of his creatures and their own particular goodness, their interdependence and their order. He destined all material creatures for the good of the human race. Man, and through him all creation, is destined for the glory of God." And in silence, they sat looking at the stars with the gypsies having a jolly time up the road in a clearing without them. Thier music filled thier ears and warmed thier mouths to curl skyward with each whoop and hollar.



"And they apposed the plan of salvation." Amiel felt sad for the mortals that would never know how short life seemingly was, yet it took forever to grow up a few years. Now, it seemed the opposite for him. He was to grow up forever and never stop, even when his last breath would fall from his lips.



Putting his cane back to click on the snow glittered concrete walkway, he continued toward the life of the town near fast food places and other restaurants and the library. Each shore of the river began to inchingly freeze towards the center as he walked over the bridge. The library was softly lit up by the little full-moon-bulbed lamps and each second that stood peacefully near it's glass windows could glance the beautiful old things that happened near it all filled with unread pages in depth. The gas station with the rediculous turn off that would create more than one accident and the houses that looked so odd with thier structues of modern times from the seventies and eighties with thier porches over flowing with old toys and couches, rocking rides,toys and garbage.



A window down in a car off to the side at a house next to the community college where a fix was going down to thier dead hearts and food stamp fed bellies. Even the one with the big house with a pond and sprinkler system protruding from it. The kind of house with rich cream colored carpets that turned brown with dirt and mud from antisipation. The matching cream walls with black finger smudges all over them. The long dressers with homemade build hiding spots for thier pipes or foils, spoons and needles. Huge paintings cockeyed and strange; dirty from crushing pills and chopping balls on, tracing unnoticable crumbs down into the cheep frame piece of it like an unknown storage bin. It would be lovely to pick a few off from there, but his sad heart would not allow it this night.



Onward he walked with a slow pace to where nothing lay for him but future tears and pains. A few patches of snow covered ice cracked beniethe his cane and his eyes appeared red with dryness of the weathers temper. The soda machines across from the bank were on and humming with promises to keep the carbinations and conitrates cold for all the customers and needy. A white young man walked down the street with a swagger in his black bubble jacket, baggy blue jeans, and white knitcap with a number on the back of it. His little fiening had dragged him out into the cold like a nagging pregnant wife nesting that drove him to leave. He had no idea how much longer it would be before his overpumped heart would give before that beautiful Mexican child was to be born.



Wandering near the mall brought him great frenzy all of a sudden to hear a young heart pounding with a woman's voice inside it. There seemed to be love and distress mingling with longing that turns into sadness and want. Such a loss for something that was never really had. What a heart! He just had to see this owner. He quickened his pace and entered through the nearest entrance. It was Friday, so it was a mere forest of flesh on every square, and every vender had a customer. His heel crushed the remaining snow jammed into his black biker boot crevises as he slowly searched the crowds for this heart. His black trench coat dragged half an inch behind him as he opened it up to appear as though the mall heat would kill him to leave it done up, exposing his light grey turtleneck and black leather pants that the wind had sensually wrapped its fingers around to get a lovers feel. The candle vendor burned a blueberry oil that you could smell from the back by Santa and if you rounded the courner by the ice cream shop. It would have been preferred if the old man had burned a light fern or muleberry by choice though.



The book store held a few old people and some young lushers, but empty of the heart. Hawks was dead, save the cashier with bambi soft eyes and lust growing between her teenage legs at the man sitting with a group of young colliges in suits on the benches discussing a way to commit thier company to drive pass the desperation of oblivion. "Come now," Amiel muttered in a half anxious whisper. "Where do you hide?" The jewelery store floated with the snobs of uptown know-it-alls, and Santa sat miserably in his chair while the people passed him by that were too old to even dance to cartoon theme songs like they did when they were todlers, and the frame store with the lonely old man that makes them. Furthure on up was the toy store that had no ringing like the rest, but to his left as he paused at the fountain with coins in it, he could hear a loud laughter where that heart pulsed thick and heavey like a lover had lost its mate. By the arcade stood a pack of teenagers and those in thier early twenties. All clustered at the tables sitting and standing alike. Blonde teenagers, redheaded teenagers, black haired teenagers, and so on. There sat the one with the heart so heavey with three other people as he talked, fellows like himself listening - trying not to miss a word he said, soaking them in as to the tan thier parents wished they had. To them, this was their opera. Their schooling. Their teacher. The ones around them were laughing and having a good time picking on eachother and discussing things themselves.



To his glory, the vampire watched as he sat at the foodcourt to observe them all. To listen to them all and focus in on what thier passions were and comparing them. The girls oggled, the men did the same while being considerate. Then a wave came through from the young man. He'd heard soemthing from the other group calling out to someone who'd just arrived at the mall. "You look froze, girl." One girl commented. She took a napkin and handed it to the cold one, who accepted it to blow her nose hard as she cold before she put it back on the table.



"So who's all here?" She asked, looking around.



"Just about all of us." Her friend replied from behind as she played with the girls long hair. "Dude, are you going with us to the movies next week?" A hair pin was put in place to hold the new twist in her hair, then another, and then another. What a girlish delight it seemed.



But there was someone she was looking for in particular. This heart couldn't have been hers, was it? Was it really? Did he find the wrong person the first time? Then she saw who she was looking for and to Amiel's surprise, it was the same young man he'd been watching talk. No... It couldn't be! A matching heart? How odd. This was interstating! For a split second, thier eyes met before she turned to what one of her friends were saying, but it was there, they'd seen eachother and that was all they really needed for a while. The girls decided to walk around and gander at it all there was too see, even though they'd seen it all a thousand times.



Some linked arms and others linked hands while the rest just wandered freely in the pack. They broke off mostly into smaller groups as they branched off into different stores to ease the interest so far. They made it to the clothing store where he'd met up with them by the bandana's and bondage bracellets. They smiled at eachother, but he was interviened as a couple of girls walking by halted to almost knocking eachother over in the process to visit him for a time to latch onto him with an embrace and played with his hair as they looked at him as if he were the man buying them a beer from the bar to send it over. The girl laughed while a few made comments about the other girls. One sneered "Jailbait." while another snorted. And for some reason, this all interested Amiel beyond compare, for he'd seen lovers before but nothing really so Shakespearian since the mid fourteen-fifties, which was a long time ago.



There was a slight interest in wondering how the world would fall apart for these people if they were told that thier lives were so much as judged differently, that they'd lead a life that they could not comprehend. He wanted this heart to fall and shatter into a miillion pieces. To watch it fall from the highest shelf there was and feel its anger wrapping in a tight quilt of guilt while the rays of hope glitter on the sun as it tries to warm the heart of downward spiraling eyes. Just to have the small chance to tip his hat with a hope for himself to be offered the glee in knowing the pain would be pure for once that he was doing a favore. Amiel was tired of just taking on the drunks who had every oppertunity in the world to be what they wanted, but wasted themselves away to be what they couldn't.



There was nothing wrong with wanting one pure thing, correct?



It didn't feel wrong. Just like having sex for the first time again. It's erotic and unexpectingly glorious. It had to be; every other kill was meaningless mind-blowing. This was to a euphoria. His goal was to make it the best euphoria he could chalk up.



His nose was in the air as he sat down on a wooden bench to breathe in the stale air of youth and all it had to offer those it resided in silently. The ones who thought they were too old for thier bodies; the ones who thought they were too young for thier bodies; the ones ready to receive what was coming to them and those who weren't ready to be who they are. The power of unable abilities wrapped in a sequence in denials grasp, squeezing through the whispers in the grip of a fist - blue in the face. The rythem of heart beats was like a concert with voices of all ages and depths singing the same tunes over and over again like an echoe. Hearts of drums and a chorus us thoughts; each with thier heads thrown back like a demon in an erotic chrome dance. His hand ticked to the sound as he zoned in through a store to give the game a little fun. He wanted to lose the beat for a moment to see how true this was.



There was no possible way this could be his luck to have this much fun in this. The game had rules, but Amiel was meant to break them all. Or at least one. What were the odds that he would lose if he made the rules to fit his own curiosity? Now that he's seen this, it wouldn't be that hard to lose track of them at all. He could read their minds, and he could lock himself out. So why not drag it out a bit to spice it all up.



He was finaly released from the tentacles of female arms and spent a few minutes to chit chat with them until they finaly got the hint that he wasn't much into doing as what they intended, which happened to be a party and a night cap with beautiful blue eyes. He may be a ladies man, but he deffinately didn't want to sleep with all the hot girls as it goes that the rule is hot is slut and pretty is better. Oh yes, she was hot alright. Perfect body and hair, but her reputation was too known and there was no mysteriousness there. It had been rowed by quite a few too many for him and there was no way he wanted any part of that at the moment. When everyone had left him to himself finaly, he'd looked around before he headed to the back of the mall to be sanctuaried of fellow men.



First to spot was a rather tall teenager by the name of Henry Gracenburd. They've known eachother for little time, but they didn't fnd fault with eachother enough to avoid one another just yet. "Hey," He greeted Victor without taking his eyes off the arcade game he was playing. "go in my bag and look at the book with the dear on the front cover."



"What is it?"



"You'll see." Still keeping his eyes on the game screen.



Victor did as he was told. The hard covered book was of a red velvety feel on the outside over fresh sheets of black paper and white printing. His brow rose, "What is this?" His voice held some humor, but not much. He turned it over to show a hyena on the other side. The odd combonation did not stir him, but the fact that the pages and print were different. It's rare to see things different in a book store. These kind were rare and few in between. Upon the first page of introduction, it was the scriptures of the Christian path and on the other side was the sarcastic comments to them.



After four or five pages, he put the book back in the bag, chuckleing to himself about the things he'd read.



"Goin' to hell, aren't I?" Henry chimed with an evil grin.



In a slip of the universe, he'd lost the game and the machine ate his quarter as if to conferm the comment. A curse word escaped his lips and he dropped his hands to his waist for a moment before he picked up the shopping bag. They exsited together to the group sitting around the main floor at tables and standing around. A rather tall woman walked by the best pizza eatery that caught a few eyeballs as she was six or seven feet tall. A few laughed. A few gapped. A few snickered.



Her long black duster made the length appear as though she were two people instead of one and her boots with thick black feminine heals made barely any sound. Her blonde hair was twisted in a French style accented with a slight glitter to it to accent the rest of her black stretch pants and crimson colored silk shirt.



The stench was excruciating to her nostrals like toilet bowel cleaner to a mear human without a mask. Uran and fesies and blood. The floor was of red brick ground down and glazed to shine like the ivory tiles on the walls that made the porceline toilets stand out like a sore thumb when the stall doors opened up. To her right was the bar lengthed counter with inset sinks with auto pumps of foaming soap that were overlooked with a mirror each. She took the center one while she looked herself over; knowing damn well that there was really no need for it. Still though, it never hurt a lady to do so. Her hair was in tact, nails painted a violent blood red and lips of rouge so pure and disguising. Her slender body was like water as she walked by a few of the other mirrors to see which one's had the best features to her, though the human eye could never tell how offset some of them really were. One last check to herself and she took her leave to the crowd that she longed for. She had to get through the food court to take her lay of the land. What an honorable menu they have become. Beyond the seating hallway and through the stores, adjusting herself for Deb's clothing store, which was getting richly dark in the past year or so.



Amiel closed his eyes and leaned his head back as he recognized a certain smell. It was death and crusades behind green eyes. A smile played across his ancient lips to survey his annoyance. His heart told him to flee, but his mind told him it was useless and childish. Why should he? He was here first. His claims would be well known if she had any intentions over his Romeo and Juliet of the twenty-first century. He counted her footsteps in missississipies. Slow and steady. Making circles.



Moira!



No, she had died with the phlem that rotted in her.



Tell me, wicked queen, how did you manage to get out of the oubliette?



He came to me.



Who? I never caught his virgin name.



Don't play games; there's enough to go around, darling. That's what you're doing isn't it? Wondering if you'll lose your precious kill?



This is my kingdom. Don't make me throw you down the big dirt hill.



Venez maintenant, cher camarade, quelle chance vous tenez-vous contre moi ?



He laughed to himself. He hadn't seen her in two hundred years. Would her appearance be the same? Or does she cut her hair still?



There are still a few of them left. Most stayed close to home and live in the dirt out of fear of dieing as if it were still thier time. He too had done that once upon a dreary life time. Then he decided to take what was his and become a ghostly legand who took vengance on those who persecuted him to an oubliette much like Moira's.



Je pourrais aider à fondre que l'icey respirent avec le seduction chaud si vous me donneriez la chance.



The wall instantly went up and he was shut out from her mind. In a matter of minutes, she was beside him at the bench with her legs crossed, sitting upright and propper like old days prefered her."You, sir, are feircely getting yourself into trouble. How did you get out of your own cell?"



"Moira, ..." He looked into her eyes, perpously full of antics. "My kingdom is great as well as my chambers. Would you like to try me yourself or would you like to make a game of it?" His eyes gestured to the many people around.



In her state of retorting, "Mon royaume peut être juste comme grand."