Friday, August 17, 2012

THE THIRD 'BIRTH' OF MADAM SHANG

The plane came down in Kathmandu. He traveled sans 'Natashas.' And he stopped in the storied citadel that was the gateway to the heights for perhaps ten hours, strolling the bazaars and sampling the hookahs. Was he fearful? Por supuesto, (no, excuse my lapse into Old Vahmpeerigo. It is very much like classical, Castillian. Tinged with a bit of Catalan, or even a taste of Provencal.   But I will refrain from using my original, vampiric idiom and remain within the English. It is I, Tomas. They do allow me to operate this magical device on rare occasions. And I am quite adept at divining the thoughts and realities of other life-eaters, so I will guide you through the pain and pleasure 'suffered' by that notorious, Russian, 'vampire,' oligarch.) for he faced the cold, hard wrath of a near divinity.

Madam Shang was not always like this. The bony, little thing used to flit from rice house to rice house, all along the Huang Ho docks, furtively drawing tiny drinks from greasy boatmen and their rancid doxies. Some vampirinas are like that, hiding in shadows deep even for night folk. She was weak and she knew it. The magic rests differently on each and every one of us. And this sniveling bed bug (vampires too, you know) was but a 'rabbit.'

She slept among the unclean scabrous refuse. For those afflicted by the 'rot' crave darkness too, the better to hide their deformities, burrowing into damp, wormy dens below the wharves. They called her 'Spider' and 'Little Scorpion.' Some begged for healing tastes of the blood, but she always refused, preferring to keep it all safe and warm, beneath her own thin, vulnerable skin.

This imitation of life flowed on for centuries, from the age of bronze to the time of iron, til one night she met a curious, little godling. He was manipulating the dead, playing puppeteer to corpses and leading them through the latest steps favored by the pillow wives of the first Chin Emperor, himself. At first she hid behind a  tall, stone obelisk and watched. Graveyards can be such entertaining places. The not-quite-whores make pleasure there. But he saw and called her forth...... What manner of night-shit are you? - he said...... For she could have been a Lucid Wanderer, or even a Sloppy-Lu-Lu. (please COMMENT if you'd like me to elaborate) Was she frightened? Of course. Godlings are the worst divinities of all, no more than farts expectorated by The Jade Emperor, Himself. At least that is what the boatmen said. And having no choice she approached him, diverting her eyes from his sleek, green, reptilian form. Perhaps five heartbeats later (hers, not his) he shot out his tongue and tasted her. She laughed. It tickled. And he did it again, taking liberty with every part of her scared, little form.

That dawn she flew with him to another realm. And that dusk she returned so very much greatly changed. The 'Spider' was no more. Yet something worse spun out upon the world.

And now the vampire-oligarch had to face her...

She so did love these games.....

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