The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

There are times in life when “nothing is going right” is an understatement. When school, relationships, and work are the least of your problems, you are prone to constant migraines, the result of too much to bear, and you finally truly understand the term ‘mad’. There are times of utter defeat, a time when you go to desperate measures to protect yourself from being hurt once again. Anything is better than the ache of madness. And you think to yourself, repeating your almost daily ritual,



'You will always be alone.'



You build walls around yourself and shut others out. Even if it means a life without love, comforts, or, most of all, trust. You have your self, and that’s all that you need. You grow cold and distant, because no emotion means no pain. You gather yourself so that you are no longer fragile. No one can touch you; no one can make you vulnerable; no one can make you weak. You look out for yourself and yourself alone, because you are the best. When you go to the bar to drink away your problems, you look down on the flirty girls, cocky guys, and happy couples with disgust and revulsion. They are pathetic and feeble; stupid. But there is something else in the pit of your stomach. Pity? You shake it off and order another round.



Now who is that, looking at you the way you look at them? Who is this man, and how dare he look at you that way! What are you going to do? He’s still looking at you, no, watching; watching you with ominous green-gold eyes. There’s something in the way he holds himself. Almost like, like he knows you, like someone from his past that he cannot quite place. Could it be that you know this man? He looks vaguely familiar, doesn’t he? It couldn’t be. You would remember him. You would remember that pitch-black hair, those bursting lips, that sturdy, pointed chin, those deep set eyes the color of the woods in summertime; golden green that seems to swirl in the light, and the wary, almost painful expression that appears to fixate his face into a permanent grimace. No, you’ve never seen this man before in your life. You’re sure of it. So what's to be done with this man, this gritty outsider? Your mind speeds through possibilities. Run, demand to know what his problem is, do nothing? Oh no, here he comes.



You turn to run, but it’s too late. He grasps your hand; that iron strong grip sending chills up your arm. He insists he knows you. 'Impossible', you think. And yet, his voice alone renders you motionless. Why? 'It’s you.' It was his voice, you’re sure of it. But he never spoke; this voice is in your mind. 'It’s you. The one I’ve been looking for. You’re the one.' What is he TALKING about? How can you look for someone you’ve never met, never even heard of? But isn’t that exactly what you were feeling yourself? It’s as though you’ve suddenly turned around and found yourself facing someone from your dreams. 'I know you', you think. Words finding their way to the forefront of your mind; you push them back and bury them.



'No', you tell yourself. 'This is IMPOSSIBLE.' You don’t love him. Love is for the weak. 'Stop', his mental voice begs. 'Don’t do this. We belong together.' 'Enough', you think. But what you tried so hard to bury now comes clawing its way back to the surface. Soul mate. It hits you and ricochets through your entire being, you fight it every second. No! This man is nothing to you! Certainly not your soul mate; you don’t even believe in that sort of thing. He’s done something to your mind; tricked you to get what he wants. Or you’ve simply had too much to drink. But his voice wasn’t demanding, it was pleading. And his expression… He looks so stricken; so sincere; genuinely hurt. Good.



'But he isn’t going to give up', a purr in your head tells you. This voice, not his, but not quite your own either, is cool and calm; a tone of reason. What do you do now? What’s to be done with a man who has the audacity to face your walls dead-on, and try to break them down? You demand that he leave you alone. But those demands soon quiet and diminish into begs. He is still holding you; ice cold, impossibly strong hands wrapped around your wrists. Like a hurt animal trapped in a corner, you lash out as soul-deep instinct takes over. 'These are YOUR walls, this is YOUR stronghold, and you are under attack.'



'Get away', a cool voice tells you. 'You can’t let this man in your life; no matter how amazing he makes you feel.' But the only clear thought is that your heart is broken and you’re terribly alone. Funny how you never noticed how bad things were before this man showed up. You suddenly go limp; unable to fight any longer. He releases you, setting you down on a nearby stool. Of course, you had forgotten where you were; a bar of all places. He’s speaking now, aloud “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His face is mere inches from yours; you can feel his warm breath on your cheek. His breath is a mixture of mint and rum, and absolutely intoxicating. You are in complete bliss; giddy as you watch the room tilt around you.



'Don’t you see what he’s doing to you?! You’re letting him in! Get AWAY!' Sheer panic washes through you, raw and commanding, as you are suddenly reminded of your situation.