The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

She walked over to the mausoleum, and open the old rusted door. She step in and closed it behind her. It was dusty, the air of death.

She went around and lite the candles she placed about the small room. She felt at home now. She walked over to the cold marble of the tomb and climb on top, laying down.

She listen to the sounds of the night and the graveyard. Rats claws on the floor. Owls. Animals sounds.

Then there is the other sound - voices, weak from not being heard in hundreds of years. The sound of pain. Of lost loves. Of youth lost. Of murder. Greed.

She laid on the cold marble, and listen to her furture.



Copyright: SKW 2006

He was loner, standing in the crowd of young people. She watched, waiting for her chance. She felt a kindred spirit in him, standing in the crowd, but he felt alone. No one talked to him, even act like he was there...

He felt a cold hand at the side of his neck. He went to turn around but her voice floated to his ear. "Don't move." He stop, facing forward. Why? He had no idea but he knew this woman would not harm him. Unlike those around him, he felt close to her.. like a family member. She slowly stroke his pale neck, and worked her hand down his shoulder, his arm.. He bite his lip as his body reacted to her touch. Just a stroke of her hand and he was hard. A cold breath to his ear as she touched his hand, cupping it in hers... He let out a small hiss as she used a nail alone his vain.

Sensation filled his body as she slowly moved her hand to his hip, and lower back. She cupped his left ass cheek, and he let out a sigh. His body responding to her as she slowly brought her hand forward over his hip, and she raised his tshirt up to place her cold hand on his stomack. She breathed into his ear as she let it move slowly downward, going into the front of his jeans... "You are not alone".. Then she was gone. He turned around to see who she was, but no one was behind him.



Copyright: SKW 2006

She walks between the headstones, her hand lovely stroking the cold stones. She stop, and lean into the black weeping angel that was her favorite in the graveyard. She open her arms wide as she looked up at the dark night, the stars a pale light in the darkness. Like her.

She moves on, letting the death about her calm the rage, the hunger that grew in her soul.



Copyright: SKW 2006