Monday, September 19, 2016

Rhys On 'The Americans' <~ #vampirewonderland wants you to discover this show 9/18/16




Doctor Franklin sits in his 'residence' and thinks. He has impressive digs in the Philadelphia compound and another in his Pocono annex. The mountain place is more rustic, like an 1890's upper class fishing camp... plaid sofas... twig chairs... rough stone hearth... oak paneled walls. The windows look out on 'the lake.' Not real, like a 3D projection. You have to remember this is all underground.... It's getting dark. The fake, 3D sun goes down over the mountains. He occupies a twig chair by the fireplace. Is it lit? Sure, it's always lit. They have a good air conditioning system here. What do you think?

He goes over his plans to insert vampire assassins into the coteries of inconvenient leaders. But that seems cumbersome now. No need for anything so elaborate. No need to create relationships. Just get them in. Do the deed. Kill the 'mark,' sublimate through the roof and be gone. Who cares what the security cameras show? Who cares what people think? These are vampires. Let them go to hell.

So sublimation it is. They have to learn that skill and it has to be perfect. Most night-folk fall into it naturally after a bit. They exit a 'culling' (sounds so much better than 'a killing') and BOOM, instinctively whoosh up through the ceiling plus any other floors and disappear into the night. He's never done it yet. Luna tries to work with him, but he's afraid. Jonathon used to tell him stories. For centuries he's heard the stories. I mean when he was mortal... an English vampire from Restoration London who solidified while passing through a stout, stone wall.... Crushed clear through he was... legs and hips in the privy... all the rest in the garden, except for the nine inches liquefied into the ancient, Norman masonry.... They burned his nether half before he could retrieve it, or rather before his allies could retrieve it. Familiars spirited away what was left of his upper half. To prevent desiccation they carefully positioned him on  a thick, glass table (alchemists had such things). Can you imagine such exquisite torture? Vampires feel their injuries quite acutely. The only difference is they usually survive them. So he was there, balanced on a smooth, reflective surface, as if rising from a cool, clear lake. His spleen, the stump of his spine, raw nerves, a ripped stomach, all manner of offal, pressed against the glass. How he wheezed. The look in his eyes. He knew. He knew what was coming. The had to cauterize the 'wound.' Not with fire. They couldn't use fire. The substance of vampiric bodies drinks it right up. They ignite like tinder. But every drop of blood, lymph and serum oozed from his mangled thorax and they had to stop that. Desiccated vampires endure as papery figures, paralyzed and still, with blind eyes. So they lit a fire in a large stone pot and placed it right under the table.  Can you understand how hot a two inch thick slab of glass gets? I don't think you can. Some have been revived. It's very tricky. At times it works. At times the dry tissue and supposedly healing blood combine into a thick, sticky paste-like mess. After that, there's nothing else to be done, but burn what remains. If heaven approves the vampire 'lives.' Soon after a thick, white stiff, rubbery mass sprouts from the truncated spine and from that new growth begins. Victims die like flies to nourish this resurrection. How they shriek and scream at the sight of such monstrosity. Eyes flutter back into skulls, as the clammy arms reach out for them. This all takes place in a very dim chamber. The less seen the better. But they see plenty. Death must be a balm....

Franklin remembers that story. Maybe as a mortal he didn't think about it all the time, but as a vampire forced to master the art of sublimation he does.

Wouldn't you?

So sublimation it shall be. Those trained at 'The Annex' will excel at it. Those who don't will die trying.

It takes real dedication to be a vampire these days... at least in the eyes of a vampire master who seeks to rule the world.....

<more next time. click OLDER POST down below to see what you've missed>

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4 comments:

GlamrKid NYC/Ron Woodard said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

Eyes are the window to ones soul. Mayan times the bigger the reflective light ypu had the higher up in the temple one got to sit. In those days outside of mud make up and thatched clothes made from leaves were the only thing that set each apart. AH! But alas the error of man to want to unearth such precious glimmering light strikers was the truest way to God's temple. Not only did one get to sit high on a temple top, but they massacre was to chop off the lesser persons head and watch as it rolled 100 to 10,000 steps. Blood spirting, dripping leaking from the freshly cut veins of the neck and head. Lesser God's marveled as the eyes rolled in unison to the thump thump splat smack with each step it rolled down onto. Their beliefs at the time were that they were fertalizing the crops but in fact were poisoning the crops, the dirt and ruining their own lands for centuries to follow. With being a vampire you just have to bite once and feast for another 100 hundred years. But being a vampire is no poor mans game nor is it for the wealthy. Baubels of fancy nature adorning them throughout history? Never. Why treasure an item if it brings no one any joy? Discardrd like the bodies used to reincarnate the vampire as I have said is no eady task. Think me wrong? Ok. You have yours. I'll have ours. LoL! Life without humor is like breathing without lungs. You need it. Gotta have it. To laugh again, not an easy task to accomplish. I leave you to chuckle silently. Humor really is the best medicine.

Anonymous said...

times the bigger the reflective light ypu had the higher up in the temple one got to sit. In those days outside of mud make up and thatched clothes made from leaves were the only thing that set each apart. AH! But alas the error of man to want to unearth such precious glimmering light strikers was the truest way to God's temple. Not only did one get to sit high on a temple top, but they massacre was to chop off the lesser persons head and watch as it rolled 100 to 10,000 steps. Blood spirting, dripping leaking from the freshly cut veins of the neck and head. Lesser God's marveled as the eyes rolled in unison to the thump thump splat smack with each step it rolled down onto. Their beliefs at the time were that they were fertalizing the crops but in fact were poisoning the crops, the dirt and ruining their own lands for centuries to follow. With being a vampire you just have to bite once and feast for another 100 hundred years. But being a vampire is no poor mans game nor is it for the wealthy. Baubels of fancy nature adorning them throughout history? Never. Why treasure an item if it brings no one any joy? Discardrd like the bodies used to reincarnate the vampire as I have said is no eady task. Think me wrong? Ok. You have yours. I'll have ours. LoL! Life without humor is like breathing without lungs. You need it. Gotta have it. To laugh again, not an easy task to accomplish. I leave you to chuckle silently. Humor really is the best medicine.

Reply

Anonymous said...

Eyes are the window to ones soul. Mayan times the bigger the reflective light ypu had the higher up in the temple one got to sit. In those days outside of mud make up and thatched clothes made from leaves were the only thing that set each apart. AH! But alas the error of man to want to unearth such precious glimmering light strikers was the truest way to God's temple. Not only did one get to sit high on a temple top, but they massacre was to chop off the lesser persons head and watch as it rolled 100 to 10,000 steps. Blood spirting, dripping leaking from the freshly cut veins of the neck and head. Lesser God's marveled as the eyes rolled in unison to the thump thump splat smack with each step it rolled down onto. Their beliefs at the time were that they were fertalizing the crops but in fact were poisoning the crops, the dirt and ruining their own lands for centuries to follow. With being a vampire you just have to bite once and feast for another 100 hundred years. But being a vampire is no poor mans game nor is it for the wealthy. Baubels of fancy nature adorning them throughout history? Never. Why treasure an item if it brings no one any joy? Discardrd like the bodies used to reincarnate the vampire as I have said is no eady task. Think me wrong? Ok. You have yours. I'll have ours. LoL! Life without humor is like breathing without lungs. You need it. Gotta have it. To laugh again, not an easy task to accomplish. I leave you to chuckle silently. Humor really is the best medicine.