*wandering over to the window to see what poor little thing the boys have trapped, my brow furrows slightly*

"Those two....all that power, and all that vampyre testosterone! *shakes her head and watches for a minute finishing her drink and tossing the glass into the fireplace for luck*

"Well, I can't let them torture that poor thing...not when she might have something of benefit to me...She might be a good bleeder"

*smiles a bit wickedly and walks down the road towards the group....the girl seems quite afraid and a bit bewildered.....

Just occasionally, when one has wandered into a certain section of Waterstone's, one wonders what it must be like to be the sort of author who writes about hellish demons, throat-gouging werewolves, maggots emerging from corpses' nostrils and vampire bloodbaths. Darren O'Shaughnessy could tell you all about it.

The empty weariness settle over me.
I am tired and alone.
You have left me now and forever.

Sweet city in the sky or the eternal inferno within.
I cannot decide where it is you've gone, where it is I'll follow to.

Surely it must be hell for the life you inflicted on me.
Yet surely it must be heaven for the ecstasy you envoked in me.

Was it you that said, one never walks the path to heaven but is carried there on the wings on righteousness.

Yet one must walk the pathes to hell to know what living is.

The story of Arnod Paole is one of the few vampire histories that has been sufficiently documented over the years to lend it historical validity. In the spring of 1727, Arnod Paole returned from service in the military to settle in his home town of Meduegna, near Belgrade. He bought some land, built a home and established himself in the community. After a short time, he was betrothed to a local girl whose father's land bordered his, and the two were wed.