Sunday, July 7, 2013


Sometimes the Dalmatian, the Ethiopian and myself would sit with one of the trainers, a vampire from Londinium, although I don't think he was British. Just lived there in service to the son of some big shot. Worked as a 'fixer.' What your time calls a private detective. His stories were positively hypnotic. 

We'd hole up in the alcoves, little indentations carved out of the rock, back in Etruscan times. Smugglers used to hide things there.... precious stones from Hind... exotic beasts brought up from far beyond the Great African Desert. They say one of the old Etruscan kings had a whole army of pygmy cyclops. But I don't know if he had a whole army.... a century maybe... not a whole army.... And I wonder why we don't see too many pygmy cyclops anymore. What could have happened to them?

It'd get quiet underground, after all the work was done... We'd finish our regimen, eat dinner and relax. Some studied music, the lyre, or the Judean harp. Helvetian timbrels were big too. Others learned calligrafy... in Latin, Greek and Hebrew. But we preferred 'the fixer.' He made il mundi vampirici seem like absolute perfection... arcane mysteries.... hidden magic... untold riches.... deep, dark secrets and sensual enchantments of the rarest kind. 

He specialized in the killing of courtesans. Pillow talk can be fatal. Indeed, it is among the most lethal of venereal maladies. Secrets spread contagion and eternal silence is the only cure. So he'd visit them in their catteries.... a handsome, powerful stranger.... free with his gold and quite adept at oral stimulation. But blood can be drawn from many places and this one knew them all. 

What energy sparks the cold blue flame? What necromancy makes it happen? At first the body trembles for an instant or two, then suddenly combusts. I'm told the Han in far Cathay have powders that do that. But this is different. And it scares me to this day. Azure fire... large, flaky ashes.... an oily, sticky residue and it's over... No flesh... No bones... No hair.... An instant crematorium ordained by some dark god.... At least that's how it looks to us in Rome.... 

The fixer killed troublesome politicians too. But when they disappeared, families were left behind..... families with their own vampirici bodyguards. In this way feuds became vendettas and Rome began to fall, drained dry by the teeth of my brethren...

Bet they don't teach that in school???

Tomorrow I cross the River Styx.... Come back and see me off...
(more next time...)
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