The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

Summer in the valley is like nothing else in the world. Some would call it a close second to the fires of hell, I on the other hand enjoyed it. My cold skin embraced the warm blistering temprature. Cold skin you see is of course being one of the unfortunate curses of one of us. Undead, lifeless, no. I move and breath just as a human would, and though the breathing is a unbroken habit from days gone by, it does however come in handy while trying to blend in. I don't need to breath, but I do so to stay unoticed, though it's kind of hard not to notice me. The tall, young, slender, pale woman who wears sunglasses even in the dead of night.



Even now as I sit quietly in a mass of hundreds o, with the modern music blasting and the people dancing in the club, I wear my sunglasses. Alone, yet surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of unsuspecting people. Their movements don't even intrest me anymore. In days gone by just their simple movements would have held me captivated. The sweat they exude, their ripe viens rising to the surface of their skin, each pulse of their heart mimicing the beat of the music. Now, not even that holds my attention.



I pretend to sip on my cold wine, made even colder by my mear hand upon the stem. My skin causes frost to appear on the rim of the wine glass. My violet eyes dance about the room, searching for no one in particular. the movements of the crowd a blur, but in the distance stands a figure, who's skin is whiter than my own. I look at him through my dark shades, studying him, and as I do so I notice that he as well studies me.



It seemed for a moment our eyes met, locked beneath our hidden gaze. Suddenly, without warning he tapped into my mind, which is not uncommon among our kind, yet my defenses were up and yet again he broke through them as if they were mere sheets of tissue paper. He forced upon me images within my own mind. Images I had long since buryed. They all came to the surface and thee was no way I could supress them. Images of my life before, images of that fateful night centuries ago when in a moment I was lost forever to the light.



Then as suddenly as it had begun the images stopped and faded away. When I finally righted myself from the assult he was gone. The only image left to be etched into my mind was that of the man in the shadows standing there with an amused look upon his face.



Suddenly without warning I felt a warm hand placed upon my shoulder, and with a start I turn to look to whom the hand belonged to. There beside me stood one of the local people who had befriended me.

You know who I am... You have heard our stories before. Around the camp fire, or a mother's threat to make the child keep to their bed. But unlike the stories of recent years, mine is of the newer generation. My name is Lillyonna, and I am immortal. Yes... one of the undead. Much like those before me I have the dark gift running through my veins. Not wise by centuries of watching, but not unwise as the child who's first breath was but moments ago.





Mortal birth only 28 years ago, my mortal death was but eight of those years . A child of the 70's I am. Idealistic at best, but a rage of Anarchy inside. Let down by parents who's great ambition was to give their children a better life. Their talks of world change and a great revolution, who later sold themselves out for three piece suits and Volvos. Money is after all, the loudest of all the cries heard though out the world. Money speaks and the parents of my generation listened with egger ears. Let down by my own parents I understand the cries of my generation. What have they left for us? Where is our path in this world? These questions I have asked myself many times, and to no avail I have no answers.





I was not by any accounts a wild child, at least I didn't get caught. I did my loving daughter routine with the perfection of a Oscar winning actress. My grades were decent in my school years. I was not bound for Harvard but I did have a bright future. Not unpopular with my peers. I had the normal social life of the average high school teenager. Allowed out to roam the streets on the weekends but expected home before 9 o' clock p.m. on school days. I had both parents in the house, unlike most of my peers, who's house consisted of only a mother. Though I had both parents they really could care less if I was there. I wasn't allowed to do as I wished, yet I wasn't looked upon as their child. Not really. Left at times to fend for myself, to figure out my own problems, I became self reliable at an early age. Able to slide by only enough without drawing unwanted attention upon myself. Don't get caught and they won't bother you. That was my life.





It was the first year after my graduation from high school that I became infatuated with finding something I could call my own. I thought, like many at that age, that once out from under my parents roof my real self would emerge, like that of a butterfly. It is only now that I look upon my thoughts with a strange amusement. I decide, or was pushed rather, into moving East with my father's parents. The plan was to attend college, get a good education, marry, have a few kids and die . At least that was the expectations of my parents, and grandparents. I on the other hand wanted no such part of this great dream they had for me. I did move in with my grandparents, but I did not enter college right away. My excuse was that of the eternal teenager. I wanted a year off to find myself. And find myself I did not. Instead I found daytime television more interesting than that of my own life. I did want to embark on a great journey to find a future, but that thumb that held me so closely under my parents roof did so under my grandparents, but even more so.





No longer allowed to do as I pleased when I so wished, I was expected to do so much more. No social life to speak of under my grandparents roof, for I knew no one around that new town that held any interest, I had to do as they asked. Pressured to attend church, like those around us did. My parents did not hold religion so closely to their heart as my grandparents did, but like all teenagers at some point in their life I did attend church. Or churches rather. I looked at the spiritual side of life and found that all contained babble and hypercriticism. I let my feelings known to my parents who shrugged it off without a second thought, but to tell my grandparents of such feelings was to tie that noose around my own neck. Like most older generations of the Eastern side of the country my grandparents held the church in the highest shelf of their lives. I attended when I had to, but other times I faked sickness. The last thing I wanted to do on a Sunday morning was get up early just to be yelled at by a stern looking man dressed in a three piece suit.



I entered college a year after my arrival in that small town. Accepted to a college not more than 3 hours from my grandparents home. Expected to come home for the weekends, I took it all in strive. I enrolled in the basic education classes, not putting forth any effort to pick a major right away. I made a few close friends, but nothing interested me. I went to class on a regular basis, avoiding any real social seen that was put before me. I did not attend any functions other than those that were assigned in my classes. Homecoming night was spent lounging in my door room while my roommate and her boyfriend did the popular thing and route for the football team. It just didn't interested me. Most weekends were spent at my grandparents house, but when I could talk them into allowing me to stay, I spent the nights alone in my dorm room reading. I felt better being alone, and with my room mate spending her weekends at her boyfriends I was allowed to do whatever I wanted.





With no one around to bother me anymore about being accepted and fitting into the norm of things, I was free to pursue the topics of my own choosing. I was found most nights at the college library, when not in my room reading. I searched through the vast walls of book lined shelves. Plundering like that of the Vikings. Consuming every book I could get my hands on. I devoured every play by Shakespeare in a month. Reveled in every book on Europe. Longed for the day when my life would take me over the pond. My fascination with Medieval Europe found me hour upon hour, page after page of every book I could find. Jumping from one Europe city to the next within the pages of my books. I found myself wondering further and further from reality. Craving that which I had longed for only a year ago. To move away from my family completely. To find something I could call my own. The journey was the greatest part of it all, but to actually do it required more planning on my part. And so I read more books on how to go about planning such an adventure.



More to come soon!!!