Wednesday, January 29, 2014


Tomas woke up. It was about 2:00AM. He threw off the two afghans, trembled a little and reached for the decanter. No ice in the bucket, just cold, metallic water. You'd think they'd have like a little, built-in refrigerator behind one of those paneled doors, or something. Maybe they did, but he didn't feel like looking so he drank room temperature Grey Goose. Then he opened the draperies over one of the not-real windows (just a tiny bit.. he liked the safe, closed in feel) and peeked out through the authentically glazed multi-pane window.... Some girl, an eighteenth century doxie, frantically fights off a late colonial, or possibly early Federalist ripper. He has a knife. She has a hat pin. And back-in-the-day hat pins were very substantial weapons.... like a thin, rigid, sharp tipped knitting needle. Whores used them like swords. But this girl wasn't 'on the game,' so she lost. The blood poured out, thoroughly ruining her cloak. Some kind of rabbit lined velvet, I think it was. She lay on the cobbles like a doll. The ripper snatched a bauble and ran off. Tomas was very absorbed in the scene and failed to notice, or considering his vampire nature, didn't care when a narrow bookcase pivoted out into the room and Doctor Franklin edged in. 

Quite a realistic show. Is it not, my dear boy? - said the old man.... Tomas nodded and whispered - Yes, it is.... Franklin sighed and said - Clean the scene..... The body disappeared. So did the blood. Soon it began to snow. Indeed, the outer surfaces of the panes even grew cold...... Voice activated - explained Franklin....... I'm impressed - answered his night-folk guest, as he waited for the enduring patriot to continue. Franklin sat down opposite, opened a door in a nearby commode table (apparently there was a small refrigerator after all) and took out a chilled can of Seven Up. Then he popped the top and began to drink. After downing a few swigs he said - No sugar. No food value. There's really nothing in it but water and chemicals. You can have some, if you like. But Tomas just shook his head. Franklin understood. This vampire was something of an aesthete and occasional episodes of self-denial suited him.

Why have you disturbed me? - asked Tomas, as he leafed through the copy of A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN..... He's going crazy, you know, if he's not already completely insane. Levitated up through the straps, he did.Well, I guess he has enough life-eater (polite term for vampire) blood in him for that. - said Franklin. Cried, thrashed around. Scratched up the ceiling pretty good. Tried to kill himself. Tried to set himself on fire via a triumph of the will. Spontaneous human combustion. He wanted to make it so...... Tomas thought for a bit, then said - He didn't do it? Did he?..... If you mean is he dead? No, he's not dead. But he did start a fire. More like a hot aura that radiated all around his body, dancing just above the skin - said the old man..... Tomas was amazed. No vampire had ever done that before. Oh, maybe exceptionally old entities like "Papa,' or The Lady Renate, or Madam Shang might accomplish such a thing.  But even then it might be just an illusion. You know some magic, just some, is really a type of mass hypnosis. More than modern, scientific hypnosis. Those effected needn't succumb  simultaneously. But the effects were still transitory.  Franklin thought Usipov's incendiary ability might be similar. But medical staff failed to find any burns. Usipov's skin was clear. Though if he had achieved fire, or something very much like fire, this was a whole new thing. A living mortal... a being not truly vampire, though infused with vampiric blood  had managed to conjure energy via mind power alone. 

For once, the old alchemist was dumbfounded, while the thousand year old life-eater in his eighteen year old body just laughed...

What would mankind do with this new toy?


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