A REMINDER OF HOW IT ALL BEGAN... the first post

Look at the post under this. It's the first communication ever channeled by wilkravitz on behalf of our life-eaters (vampires, to you). Click on it.  See how it all began... And remember. 'they' make us say that it's fiction......

vampire wonderland: Philadelphia After Dark the book of Sarah

vampire wonderland: Philadelphia After Dark the book of Sarah: First of all, we must agree that what comes next is fiction.  Please excuse any errors made in the use of this device. It is new and very s...

The Elferina-Vampirina and The Sea Prince

Roland helped the forty seven year old housekeeper pass out little bowls of strawberries and creme fresh. It was getting late and we had to give them something. Charitable people basically want food for their money. A society dance band helps too, but this wasn't that kind of affair. Still, at ten thousand dollars a crack, they expected more than just exotic, vampiric  recollections. Lucky the bodega two blocks down was open all night. So Roland ran out again and raided the cold fruit and salad bar. The sleepy-eyed skinny guy at the register said - What the hell are you, a strawberry shortcake addict?....... No - said Roland. I'm a vampire.... And he subtly flashed his sharp, tiny, cat-like fangs........ The guy mumbled - Go to hell, as he rang him up. But Roland just laughed. And the Tugboat Annie of a bag lady eating free sugars at the coffee bar made disgusting faces with her lips and yellow canine teeth as she gurgled - Me, too. Me, too.......... But she only looked that way 'cause somebody knocked her  front teeth out. That's all... Roland slipped her a ten dollar bill. Could a had a full meal, like a stuffed omelet or something and potatoes and a big crusty bagel at Little Pete's, but she put it away for doughnuts and sweet wine the next day. I'm just telling you this so you'll realize vampires live in OUR world. Ain't no stylized, baroque stage set with tufted velvet and Persian cats, unless, of course they like that crap. Some do. Ours don't. 


Meanwhile, back at the townhouse-palace, Marianne was getting to the part about the whale. He'd seen her spirit. At first he took her for one of the mer-folk. Most of them live deep in the mountains of the Mid Atlantic Ridge. But sometimes they'll swim out onto the plain. Then, upon closer inspection, he realized she was just a spirit. Whales have spirits too and apparently cetacean ghosts are not unheard of. So they danced through the sea together, a little, glowing, girl-shaped thing and the eighty foot long square faced prince. When the ballet was over, she returned to the leaden box and he ever so slightly nudged it with his fearsome, lower jaw, plowing it along the powdery bottom for quite some distance, til he stopped and began his song. The prince called to his retinue and six score heartbeats later they slowly materialized out of the gloom to hatch their special plan.


Marianne did not know their language. But she instinctively felt the good of it and hummed a sad-sweet song the whale-folk all enjoyed.......


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