The Book of All Things New

A whale can course through the ocean faster than the sleekest ship. They marry the womb-like broth and pass through it with complete familiarity. I lay pressed against the gigantic back. My fangs penetrate into the blood-rich hide. No thing, no entity can break this bond. We pass through time and space as one. A protective gelatinous substance oozes from its pores, enveloping my body, smoothing out the rough spots. My being is one with the noble beast. We slice through the briny abyss, speeding passed transluscent, light-emiting organisms. They decorate the darkness like the Saturnalia of Rome. Ah, how I savor those memories. Let my come upon my New World offspring. Let me meld with my New World brethren. Let me instruct them in the way that we should live. For they follow false doctrine and 'The Teacher' needs to set things right. A vampire's life? Bah! They nibble at it like worms on a corpse, when they should tear into it with the strong, bloody teeth of a lion. I saw things. And I know things. I sensed them as they penetrated the stones of my Vatican mausoleum/prison. I tasted them in the salty, red soup of my victims. I saw what they saw, the sweating, human beef of a hundred generations, the ever changing tools of the necromancers. What is a 'lap top' but yet another magic mirror? What is an Amy Winehouse, a Jimmy Fallon, a Bret Favre, a Pink, but contemporary incarnations of long gone Jongleurs? True, interesting, to say the least. I wonder how they will taste? Ah, to live in freedom. To drink in an atmosphere free of sticky mold, decay and corruption. Soon I will know. Soon I will know. Hello, Snookie. Greetings you wearers of eightteen hour bras. Salutations you drinkers of double lattes. I will slurp you up. I will eat you all! My eyes stare out through the milky balm that encases me. Tiny remnants of fragile lifeforms raining down from sun pierced layers stream passed me. I feel the pressure. I feel the depth. I feel it all..... I wonder how they dress in my 'son's' new home? I do so favor a fine tailored doublet. Would that I might find one on that 'Walnut Street' I think they call it. Look for me. You'll know me, for you've never seen the like....................Zebulon talking. Did you read that? Can you imagine this fellow? Is he ever going to be a handful. Annie and her hounds? Nope. That condensed distilation of evil known as The Shaky Hand Man? Please! They are as fleas. But this one will be different. This one will tempt them. And we will see  how 'nobel' our blood drinkers truly are.......But of late, I enjoy watching Roland and Celeste. Who are they? The other two elves, usually content to silently soak things in from the background. But now they are different, stealing out to explore the world with a child-like wonder. It does my heart (or at least  the memory of my heart) good to look upon them. They hide in the ventilation ducts running up above the flimsy 'dropped ceiling' tiles  in department store changing rooms. They peek down through the metal lattices, pointing long, thin fingers and giggling their soundless giggles. Do you think you can hear them? No, you cannot. For they are quiet as dust. Follow our story. Read our tale. Learn our ways. Edith says that one or two of you will be 'translated' before all this is over. I wonder who it will be? I wonder which one of our life eaters will drip the magic on you? I wonder............