The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

The moment she slipped from the womb, slick with the remnants of a life left behind, she did not cry. She opened her eyes….

The ceiling was the first thing she saw, washed in pale fluorescence, humming softly like a machine breathing. Then she felt it, gravity. The weight of every life she had lived, pressing against the fragile bones of her newborn body. Radiating from inside her chest and her forehead, shooting through her spine, with every breath, every passing moment. This feeling pulsing outwards, as if she were a waterfall of energy… limitless, as the very essence of life itself. She couldn’t help but to stretch to try and reach the new confines of her world, as the world she lived in whilst floating inside her mother’s womb was cramped, snug, and.. Over crowded. Except here, there were no warm, soft walls to hold her back, only the cold dry air of the plane around her.

“Again,...” she thought. “Again, I return. I must find him again, but for now.. I need to grow into myself.” She slowly blinked her eyes, to try and focus, and with every breath, things became slightly more clear, but not by much, as she had just been born into this world and it would take some time for her to adjust.

The world was not new to her. The bland, yet busy hum of the airplane, and people shuffling about the small confined space, and the scent of recycled air, the muffled voices of passengers beyond the closed cabin doors.. Though she had just been born, none of this seemed unfamiliar. Yet at the same time, curiously new.

She became suddenly aware of her own heartbeat, unlike when she was within the confines of her mother’s womb, it was singular. Lonely. Her heart beats alone. Pulsing in her head, as she was quickly discarded, and handed off to another person… The cycle repeats.

From the moment she entered this new world around her, releasing from the maternal tides she had grown accustomed to, she found herself wrapped tightly in a strange man’s jacket, her life cord still very attached and the pillow that gave her sustenance and life, sat on the cold plastic meal tray of the seat in front of them. The cold air of the environment around her, she did not cry… Instead, she just opened her eyes, listening, breathing air for the first time in this life, letting the bitter, yet stale stimuli of the world around her bring her more, and more grounded into this new existence in this world.

The memories of the previous end fading from her grasp, like a bad dream. She raised her tiny hand, still covered in the moisture of her mother's womb, trying to call out and go back to the comfort of the love she felt in the previous life, watching it trickle from her memories like water between her fingers. The love she struggled so hard to find, to keep, and to build with, faded before her closed eyes. She let out a small whimper, as the memories of her fallen soldier blurred and faded as if wisps of smoke, dissipating before her eyes. His voice rang through her ears “in this life and the next.” The world's smallest tear trickled down her cheek, and she let out the world's biggest sigh, from the tiniest body, relaxing into the warm gentle caresses of the stranger's thumb on her hand.

The flight attendants that had assisted in the birth, hands shaking as they worked quickly, before passing her off to the man who wrapped her, who spent the whole flight cradling her close as the plane shakily soared through the early morning sky.. He smelled of leather and cologne, his eyes familiar, as though she had known them for lifetimes. His hair was white like the snow, her gaze inquisitive, although unable to see the fine details, inquiring and desiring to learn her environment.

“Pium, paum! Kehto heilahtaa,

Ja lapsi viatonna uinahtaa.

Pium paum! Äiti laulahtaa,

Kun sydänkäpyänsä tuudittaa.” the man would sing slowly, and in a lullaby-like fashion, in a low and deep voice that reverberated gently in her chest. These words, familiar and also foreign, she had heard them within the muffled blanket of the womb from a softer, more frequent voice.

(English translation:

“Pium, paum! The cradle swings

For the innocent child who is asleep.

Pium paum! It's the mother's art

To lull her little sweetheart.” “Pium Paum, a finnish lullaby” otherwise known as “the lark lullaby” Kustaa Killinen (1849–1922))

Then, she heard it… more screams… followed by the cries of her siblings whom she had shared the womb with. Her eyes widened with what she had thought to be joy, and she tried to turn her head towards the noise, originally startled by the sudden sounds of her mother’s screams and her siblings cries, but also slightly relieved to no-longer be alone in this strange, new world. Her muscles still weak and underdeveloped, she was unable to turn fully, and her eyes still blurred, adjusting to the new world around her. Her siblings had arrived! It was time for them to grow and learn together in this life, where in other lives before, they had constantly been at war with each other. Fighting, lying, deceiving and causing heartbreak with one another. Since the dawn of humanity, and beyond. Luckily.. It was her love for those who had wronged her and those who loved her in return that allowed her to keep her memories.

For she knew the secret to this life: “Live, love, forgive.”

The flight attendant, the first to hold her, then spoke through the busy hum of excited whispers and murmurs. There was curiosity and joy in her voice with a hint of pride!

“What do you plan on naming the babies?” she asked with a timid curiosity.

A woman’s voice.. sharp, tired, and cruel.. Slightly irritated with the inconvenience of being asked... cut through the hum.

"Willam," her mother said, voice laced with relief as she held the twin brother.. Who was last born, and fresh out of the womb.

"Aleksei," came next, softer, almost affectionate, the girl twin was placed into her father’s arms, wrapped snugly in his jacket.

The first born waited… and waited… waited.

As did the rest of the crew and passengers…

The man tried to bring the small baby girl to the mother. The mother, Jessica, had a grim, blank stare on her face.. The baby girl, stirring and beginning to acclimate to the surrounding environment, drowsy, yet anxious to hear her name.. Her small, damp fingers curled against empty air. The warmth of the womb had abandoned her, and now she lay beneath the harsh glow of artificial light, listening.

"And her?" a strange woman asked. Her voice was almost accusatory, crass and of the sands.

Silence.

Her mother did not respond.

Her father cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably, with almost a hint of shame.

"We hadn’t decided, we were told she would not survive.” a lie that they both knew was a false statement, but it seemed to suffice for the moment. Words falling flat on the air, and laying heavily over the silence of the rest of the plane, as the rest of the passengers stood in disbelief.

A pause. A flicker of something sharp in the air. The weight of disregard. It was not new to her, as she had felt it in this life, and those before her. Rejection, being the very thing she had acclimated… evolved.. and been forged in. Her soul started to stir. She tried to speak, “My name is–...” but her newborn vessel hadn’t yet learned to form words, let alone put her thoughts into words. So it only came out as a shrill whimper in the dead silence.

"Then, if I may, I have a name that may fit her, seeing as she does not have one, and my own daughter was lost to time. May I suggest a name for her?” the woman’s voice said, cross and stern.

“Go ahead, we had no names planned, anything is fine I guess..” her father mumbled just loudly enough for them to hear. With a slight hiss of disdain for the idea of it.

This woman’s voice was not cruel. It was steady, warm like the amber glow of a candle in a distant window. She had the accent of old deserts, of sun-scorched stone and lost temples, and the slight scent of jasmine, myrrh, and henna as she approached. Warm, like saffron, soft like Egyptian cotton.

“Dear, may I please hold the child?” she softly spoke to the man holding her, who then warmly passed her off to the lady who had offered the gift of a name. Her skin was darker than the rest of the people who had held her so far in her life. Skin glowing radiantly an amber-esque caramel color. Eyes deep brown, nearly black like the very night sky, where the stars we wish upon rest. Her lips appeared to be as soft as she spoke, in this moment, and her expression was painted clearly of indiscriminate love for all innocent life. This was a moment of acceptance.

"Kamari," she said at last. Calmly gazing into her eyes, smiling softly and stroking her cheek with the outer side of her, intricately henna stained index finger. Adorned with gorgeous patterns that, although they were blurry due to the ever adjusting newborn eyes in this way too bright world, were still visible in contrast to her glowing skin. Her presence felt divine.

The name settled over her, a shroud of silver moonlight. The room felt warmer, and there was a familiar feeling to this name. “I know that name somewhere." Kamari thought to herself.

"Enemy of desire, keeper of the moon, you have returned, and we are here for you." the woman whispered, her fingers briefly brushing against the child’s forehead, a quiet benediction.

A sigh from her mother. An absent nod from her father. That was all. At least they didn’t have to name “the child”, they could just piggyback off what this woman said and claim it as their own idea. Like they have done their entire life, with everything else.

Kamari closed her eyes. She did not need them to name her, she had carried a thousand names before. This name though… this one would be hers. A gift, given by a stranger with kind hands. Something slightly different from those many lives before, yet oddly familiar.. Her scent of jasmine and myrrh blanketing over Kamari as everyone was called back to their seats for landing.

As the plane began to descend down, the pressure changed. Still being held by a stranger… the hunger began to set in.. Her mother, already nursing Willam.. She just whimpered and gnawed on her hand. The pain of hunger grew more and more intense, but every time she would make a sound, it was met by glares and sighs from her “parents”. An unfortunately too real and too familiar feeling of rejection and “inconvenience to others”, that she had already experienced in every life before her.

She felt the presence of her twin siblings, recognized them. The echoes of past lives burned behind their newborn vessels… a silent feud between Willam and Aleksei, and a bitter rejection towards Kamari.. All too the same.. They too were awake beneath their fragile skin, trapped as she was. Acknowledging this all, but yet, still holding on to old feuds, and rejecting the new opportunity they’d been given. Sadness, like a blanket sweeping over Kamari, was this the hunger? Or was this the growing fear of rejection? Something isn’t right.

Willam’s fingers curled into a fist.

Aleksei’s breathing was measured, controlled.

Kamari exhaled, shakily.

They had returned, and the world would come to regret it.

Kamari then, lulled into a sleep,still hungry, faded into the dream world. Remembering a life before… her last memories…

In this dream.. She was on a ship. She was lavishly dressed and sitting in her cabin. There was a man. This was a virgin voyage for this ship, they were so happy together, she had been feeling ill.. Something wasn’t right, the man was lying beside her, caressing her shoulder, while she felt a wave of uneasiness. She felt the kick of new life within her womb, followed by a cold wave over her body. Something was not right with her pregnancy. The cold settled in the bottom of her stomach, and she felt the baby shake and convulse within her. Followed by stillness, and her own panic.

The ship shook.. She felt the blood begin to trickle as a man held her, wiping the beads of sweat off her ghostly pale face, and the tears of sudden loss and sadness from her eyes. Pain. Unshakable, unmistakable, the loss of the child she carried within her. This wasn’t the first one she and her husband had tried to conceive, they went on this cruise to escape the stress at home, in-laws always showing up when he was working in the factories, mistreating her when he wasn’t around. Had he not noticed the bruises, they surely would have killed her.

There was screaming and yelling. He jumped as if to go check the door to see what was happening. His hand, not leaving hers, but his expression grim, and cold. He knew what that shaking and commotion was about, as he had already seen the cruelty of wars that no one with a fragile mindset could ever endure.

She recognized it. Her heart dropped, and felt as if it was being squeezed, she attempted to sit up, but the world around her blurred, the pain became intense, and she fell back into the pillow of her cabin bed, the world shifting with the tides around her, and her body shaking with the cold of what was to come.

“Please.. Don’t leave me” she begged him, whimpering shakily with every micro-convulsion.

“I am not going anywhere..” he assured her. “I love you, in this life, and the next.” he whispered in her ear before gently kissing her cheek, holding her face in his hand, then gazing deeply into her eyes, his eyes, ice blue like moonlight casting shadows over snow in the icy tundras her family came from.

The door burst open, loudly, with a BANG.

Men began yelling and screaming “SHE’S GOING DOWN GET HER TO A LIFERAFT! WOMEN AND CHILDREN FIRST!” fear hit her in the stomach, blood trickled down her leg as he scooped her out of the bed, running towards the door, water swiftly rising as she clutched his shirt tightly in her hand, burying her face deeply into his chest one last time, as the life faded from her body… just as quickly as the dream began… she awoke.. In a new setting altogether.