Wednesday, January 18, 2017


There are places in the night-world where the media never goes. This post will take you there. No one's sure how this loathsome beast came to be. Some claim the torture theaters of early medieval Byzantium. Others credit a clan of witches in Kievan Rus. A few know the truth, but they don't talk. Most magical truths (of all shades) go back to The Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn house in London. It's a real place. We're not supposed to reference it, but we do. Look, how many TIMES have we said - First of all, we must pretend, that what comes next is fiction?... That's like a spell. You say that and anything that follows is made right.

Now, as far as we know, the monstrosity in question did not begin in the torture theaters of the Byzantine Empire. Kievan Rus, we can't vouch for, but they were more into burying people alive, or partially burying them in underground catacombs with heads exposed, so they could be fed bits of food and water by hooded attendants and thus cruelly preserved. The dirt around them slowly turning to shit... What we're talking about is different and unique. We've pinpointed one. They say there might be a few more. They say a lot of the steel skinned children of Bombay or the headless, gurgling man-thing who guzzles  creamed corn and Raisinettes down his pie hole five times a day (and night) for the delight of carnival fans in nine states.

The Vampire Snake Man has never been featured in supermarket tabloids. They're too frightened. The snake man can still sublimate. The snake man can go anywhere... dragging himself over a shag carpet... stopping by the bed of an oblivious sleeper.... working his way up under the covers till he plants his slimy kiss.... Victims are alive at the beginning. Maybe they see the head. In the dark, how can they tell what it is? Perhaps they feel the thin, pliable body resting on their belly and coming to an end between their legs?... A night terror?... Of course. But this is not a dream. He has no teeth, save for two, long, needle sharp fangs. No hair grows anywhere on his head. No eye lashes. No eyebrows. And his nose is a little nubbin with a pair of tiny holes that serve as nostrils. Don't know what good they do him. South of his Adam's Apple there's little 'human' tissue remaining... the neck vertebrae... the thorax vertebrae... the lumbar vertebrae... the coccyx (that's the tailbone) and that's it. The naked spine is encased in a clear, tough, pliable casing, rather like the membrane on old fashioned, fat kosher hot dogs. It collects the blood when he feeds. And that fluid evaporates through barely detectable, microscopic 'stoma' into the atmosphere. Blood doesn't sustain vampire lives, the 'magic' does.

They surgically removed his teeth, save for the upper incisors, prior to transformation. And they flensed off every other part of his body while he took his master's blood. That first drink is a transcendent experience. There is no free will. None can break away till the thing is finished. When that happened he was as he is now. Maybe there's a bit of gristle and ligament holding the spine together, if the magic allows for it.

Thus he endures, an almost mindless existence. Who 'made' him is a mystery. No one knows the purpose. He moves. He feeds. He hides. Look, to be truthful, this monster can be coiled under the basement steps... your basement steps, as you read this. He can snake through shuttered shopping malls, or the dim, chill galleries of august museums. If security cameras pick him up who'd believe it? And if they did believe it, do you think it'd be publicized?

Secrets are all around us and this clammy, sticky, animated remnant is one of them.

In an infinite universe all things are possible.

Every hellish thought is real somewhere... but you who sail the paranormal sea know that...

Que sera, sera......

We're just along for the ride....

<more next time>


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