Saturday, July 21, 2012


Conrad made his kill. The old man died and he was satisfied. I cannot tell you his crimes. Just know that they were numerous and deep. 

When he sublimated into the room, the skinny, old bastid sat up and said - Jesus Christ! Who are you!?....... But Conrad, never much for small talk, didn't answer. That's not his pattern. He doesn't converse with them, or in any way acknowledge their humanity...or lack of it.

Just a quick, clean meal in a dusty room by the muted yellow light of a small, cheap lamp. A 'thousand-legger' raced up the wall. Perhaps she told others what she saw?

When it was over, Conrad rode down to the lobby. He looked for the drunk, but he wasn't there..... neither was the ripped-off head. Who knows? Maybe the drunk tried to pawn it? Must be a market for something like that. Right? Santoria? Voo-doo? Itinerant head-hunters? Who knows?

The rest of the doorman lay crumpled behind the old, mohair sofa. And the inexpensive, off-brand, little, flat-screen TV droned on, selling the latest in penile catheters by the gross. 

Conrad wished he'd 'taken' the doorman too. At least the cold, blue flame would have cleaned things up. Vampire blood-feasts disappear. Vampire murder victims just lie there. But the old man came to him in a vision. It was his time. The doorman did not. Yet he wound up dead, just the same. 

So the newly minted vampire walked back to join the others, snug beneath the old, Philadelphia Navy Yard, deep within  the sterile, maze-like corridors of the Anti-Enchantment- Bureau. He kept to the dark narrow alleys meant for delivery trucks. A few, raggedy dumpster divers might have seen him pass, but they had other, more important things they had to do...

Tomas, Sarah and Luna were playing Yahtzee when he walked in.... Doctor Franklin and Annie had gone off too groom the Yeti. As you know, the Bureau houses many exotic specimens.

And thus goes another night in EL MUNDO VAMPIRISMO............

But 'the Russian's' was more exciting.....


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