Wednesday, April 10, 2013

A GHOUL BRAGS and a DESPERATE VAMPIRE CATCHER READIES A POTION ...... 4/10/13

Yes, it is accurate to say the streets became a bit safer. And an out reach center, opened on North Broad Street provided solace and chicken nuggets to the troubled and curious of all faiths and even some without faiths. Small groups of well heeled individuals attended vampire 'meet and greets' in better homes throughout Center City. I haven't been to any of them yet, but they tell me they're quite like the one Marianne had a few months ago. They're still attending them. Jonathon, Sarah, Baylah and some others funnel blood (vampire blood) to sick people. Little by little they make progress and the world, or at least a small part of it, improves. 

Yet gross corruption and filth still exists. Johnny Jump Up hid under the bed of that unfortunate young woman. She awoke to find him leering over her and came very close to having a stroke. But luck can be fickle, so she survived to die another way. And the loathsome ghoul played games with her living flesh. Neighbors heard noise, not quite to the level of true domestic violence. Perhaps she was exercising, or chasing a rat?

I think you know ghoulish practice by now. First destroy the voice. First curtail the noise. So he rips out the trachea and a bit of other tissue came with it. The young woman groaned and shuddered. She convulsed on the floor, sliding on a puddle of her own blood. And death would have quickly claimed her. But this creature came prepared.  He had a bit of pipe... some white, polyvinyl tubing, brought for just this purpose.  He kept it up his sleeve. And he jammed one end into the shredded ruins of her throat, threading the other through a ragged, bronchial wound. In this way her lung got air. Breathing is a reflex.... and she lived. 

Other disembodied spirits floating through that place said he whistled. They said he whistled old music hall songs from the eighteen hundreds.... 'I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen'..... 'She'll Be Coming 'Round The Mountain, When She Comes'... And he smacked his lips as he ate, flensing off the meat in ragged strips. His teeth well suited to the task.

Yet still she died... much to fast for his taste, so he shattered the bathroom skylight and let the rats pour in. 

I know some of you read an earlier account of this event. But I wanted to give you the details 

Another soul, in another part of the city, fought a different kind of hunger. This one craved life. This one wanted years. Tobias Maxwell.... You met him before. The doddering  head of an ancient moneyed dynasty here since William Penn. Sparse, white hair, slicked back atop a mottled pate. Loose, flaccid jowls. A heavy, red nose and scowling, down-turned lips. His body quite ravaged, but his suit first rate. And he sat in a wheelchair, sipping electrolytes through a soft, clear, plastic tube, as a specialized employee (a biochemist, I'm told) distilled immobilizing solutions and paralytic diffusions in a well equipped, basement installation. By all indications, the twelve thousand page Leiderhaus Directive, a compendium of experimental data assembled by German scientists working deep in the mines at Penemunde, on The North Sea, predicted success. That's where they kept the vampires, far, far away from the light, nourished by an endless column of slave laborers dispatched from death camps throughout the subjugated territories.

Tomorrow they'd try them on Jonathon. The old man wanted Jonathon, known to his family since 'the crossing,' from his dark, dark hiding place, down in the bilge of the good ship Welcome. Those Quakers were truly a tolerant sort. Let me tell you that.

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