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Tomas and Sarah walked over the hills, under a chalk white moon and twinkling stars. Words were few. They just weren't necessary. She held his hand and she knew. She felt his soul and tasted each emotion. He liked his life. He valued his purpose. Tomas missed Philadelphia and wanted to go back. Yes, they might pass through The City. They might go to London. But only for a night or two.
He missed the narrow cobbled lanes of Society Hill, Queens Village, Old City and all that. He missed the quiet churchyards filled with cool, gray stones.. True, London had such places... very similar places. And it was once his home. Perhaps that's why Philadelphia felt so right? It was built to be the New World London, after all. The huge clock tower atop City Hall. The small antique shops on Pine Street. The tea room in The Wanamaker Building. Even the street accents in some districts. Ever hear how they say bee-yoo-tee-ful? A true Cockney could do no better.
They passed through ghosts and other things. Most pretended not to notice, though one or two said hello.... a child, a little girl exposed to the cold in Druid times, asked their names.... an old man minus half a skull told jokes. He wanted to know by what means they kept their flesh. Sarah told him they were life-eaters...they were vampires. But he was unfamiliar with the breed and so he wandered on.
Baylah helped Annie dress for 'Last Dance.' She brushed her hair and sprayed in an aerosol 'thickener.' It apparently works on vampire hair too. She should write them. Maybe they'll put that on the label? And the headless, female harpist plucked away in the shadows. I believe it was 'Old Man River.' The sad creature had quite a large repertoire. Annie talked to her from time to time. She was curious. She wanted to know what the strange thing was. But the fleshly automaton never responded in any way. She could have gestured, or maybe even answered with music. But she did not. Baylah thought she was primarily a magical construct, layered over some convenient, brainless corpse.... like a puppet, preserved and dead...
After 'Old Man River,' she went into 'Eleanor Rigby.' That sounded nice.
'Last Dance' was special. They had a promenade. They danced a Stompanada. Every once in a while some vampire came forth to 'testify,' asking for release. And that was provided, usually via a sublimation. The petitioning party dressed accordingly, sometimes in their finest, occasionally in plainer clothes. Few came naked. It just seemed too vulnerable. When it was time they stood in the circle, an inlaid, old bronze ring, created many years ago, waiting for their 'savior' to appear. After a few heartbeats, for prayer and the like (funny, but even the 'noxious' prayed) the savior came forth, walking straight toward the waiting soul in the center. Never slowing. Never hesitating. Never turning, til they passed right through them.... That was it. Very quick. Very simple.
The body in movement is not harmed. But the body at rest is destroyed. Every particle of the sublimating entity cuts through the stationary soul like a tiny, razor sharp, obsidian knife.... For a moment, the 'victim' stands there. The form remains intact. But then blood runs forth from an infinity of cuts, til the stationary body disappears, cascading down onto the old, stone surface in a fast, red torrent. Even the bones disappear. .... Now so there not be any piece of skull, or hand, or foot, or torso 'living' passed 'the act,' larger people usually sublimate through smaller individuals. That usually works. Dogs come out to lick up all the blood. There's no cleansing blue flame. That does not happen in instances like this. And, no, the dogs don't become vampire dogs. At least I don't think so.
Maybe we'll see one tonight? Then we'll know. Big dogs... they use big dogs, like Irish Wolfhounds.
But watch their eyes, if such a thing takes place. You'll never see dogs with eyes like that again.....
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please help. please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD... tweet this ~> I nominate @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD in #BLOGGER because of his (then ad something 'nice') ......Thank you very much... If you're competing and want votes, let me know via Twitter. Tell us your category. I'll be happy to oblige...
He missed the narrow cobbled lanes of Society Hill, Queens Village, Old City and all that. He missed the quiet churchyards filled with cool, gray stones.. True, London had such places... very similar places. And it was once his home. Perhaps that's why Philadelphia felt so right? It was built to be the New World London, after all. The huge clock tower atop City Hall. The small antique shops on Pine Street. The tea room in The Wanamaker Building. Even the street accents in some districts. Ever hear how they say bee-yoo-tee-ful? A true Cockney could do no better.
They passed through ghosts and other things. Most pretended not to notice, though one or two said hello.... a child, a little girl exposed to the cold in Druid times, asked their names.... an old man minus half a skull told jokes. He wanted to know by what means they kept their flesh. Sarah told him they were life-eaters...they were vampires. But he was unfamiliar with the breed and so he wandered on.
Baylah helped Annie dress for 'Last Dance.' She brushed her hair and sprayed in an aerosol 'thickener.' It apparently works on vampire hair too. She should write them. Maybe they'll put that on the label? And the headless, female harpist plucked away in the shadows. I believe it was 'Old Man River.' The sad creature had quite a large repertoire. Annie talked to her from time to time. She was curious. She wanted to know what the strange thing was. But the fleshly automaton never responded in any way. She could have gestured, or maybe even answered with music. But she did not. Baylah thought she was primarily a magical construct, layered over some convenient, brainless corpse.... like a puppet, preserved and dead...
After 'Old Man River,' she went into 'Eleanor Rigby.' That sounded nice.
'Last Dance' was special. They had a promenade. They danced a Stompanada. Every once in a while some vampire came forth to 'testify,' asking for release. And that was provided, usually via a sublimation. The petitioning party dressed accordingly, sometimes in their finest, occasionally in plainer clothes. Few came naked. It just seemed too vulnerable. When it was time they stood in the circle, an inlaid, old bronze ring, created many years ago, waiting for their 'savior' to appear. After a few heartbeats, for prayer and the like (funny, but even the 'noxious' prayed) the savior came forth, walking straight toward the waiting soul in the center. Never slowing. Never hesitating. Never turning, til they passed right through them.... That was it. Very quick. Very simple.
The body in movement is not harmed. But the body at rest is destroyed. Every particle of the sublimating entity cuts through the stationary soul like a tiny, razor sharp, obsidian knife.... For a moment, the 'victim' stands there. The form remains intact. But then blood runs forth from an infinity of cuts, til the stationary body disappears, cascading down onto the old, stone surface in a fast, red torrent. Even the bones disappear. .... Now so there not be any piece of skull, or hand, or foot, or torso 'living' passed 'the act,' larger people usually sublimate through smaller individuals. That usually works. Dogs come out to lick up all the blood. There's no cleansing blue flame. That does not happen in instances like this. And, no, the dogs don't become vampire dogs. At least I don't think so.
Maybe we'll see one tonight? Then we'll know. Big dogs... they use big dogs, like Irish Wolfhounds.
But watch their eyes, if such a thing takes place. You'll never see dogs with eyes like that again.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please help. please nominate me for a SHORTY AWARD... tweet this ~> I nominate @wilkravitz for a SHORTY AWARD in #BLOGGER because of his (then ad something 'nice') ......Thank you very much... If you're competing and want votes, let me know via Twitter. Tell us your category. I'll be happy to oblige...
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