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I found this poem on the back of my Vampire Vineyards Pinot Noir bottle.
But first on this earth as vampire sent,
Thy corpse shall from tomb be rent:
Then ghastly haunt thy native place,
And suck the blood of all thy race;
There from thy daughter, sister, wife,
At midnight drain the stream of life;
Yet loathe the banquet which perforce
Must feed thy livid living corpse.
Thy victims are they yet expire
Shall know the demon for the sire,
As cursing thee, thou cursing them,
Thy flowers are withered on the stem.
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Who was the first vampire you may wonder. The first vampire is a mystery in many fictional vampire worlds, and even in the real world. Century after century, countless vampires making more vampires – some ancient, some young. Where did it begin, who was the one that started it all? There are many vampire novels in print right now, only a few have asked and answered this question. Here’s a look at three of the first blood suckers…
Akasha
The queen of the vampires in The Vampire Chronicles by the amazing author Anne Rice. In the novels when Akasha was human she was originally from Uruk, or modern-day Iraq. She rose to become a Queen in Kemet, the land that would eventually become Egypt, her king Enkil ruled beside her. She was the first of the vampires and the creation of vampires was brought on by a bloodthirsty spirit. When Akasha was assassinated, the spirit Amel joined with Akasha’s soul as it rose from her body, re-entering her body through her wounds and fusing with her heart and brain to create an entirely new creature, and the vampire was born.
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It was a nice quiet day at the Villa house.
My mother Cora was sitting at her desk, typing away on her computer. She is forty one years old but she is lucky enough that she looks as if she is in her mid thirties. Her eyes are a light brown color and they match the color of her hair. Which falls just below her shoulders.
Then there is my little sister, Renny. She is seventeen years old but could possibly poss as a nineteen year old. She also has light brown hair that falls down to the middle of her back. Her eyes are hazel and they tend to change color with whatever she decides to wear. Right now, she is upstairs in her room working on her homework.
And then there is me, Iris. I am twenty three years old but for some ungodly known reason I have been told I only look about nineteen or twenty. I have jet black hair that is cut short. It falls past my chin in the front and gradually gets shorter in the back. And my eyes are a shade lighter than black with a thick silver ring around the outside.
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