Thursday, October 31, 2013


The vampirino known as Tomas looked down at the bones, a full human skeleton, stretched out and bound to an iron rod and grinning like a fool. . He studied the gunmetal metallic sheen gilding each blackened surface and waited for the spirit to gather it's thoughts. Was he frightened? Well, a bit. Even vampires can become unnerved at magic not their own. So he backed against the ruined cellar wall and waited. First he heard a giggle, low and muffled, as if from far away. Then he heard a sigh and the ether grew positively icy. Tomas said a prayer. You know how much he believes. I don't have to tell you that. Something moved in a corner. He could hear the scraping of tiny feet, but it was just a fat,little vole looking for late season maggots. Higher creatures, like dogs or cats, might notice the presence of spirits and such. Little mousy things do not. Maybe they just don't care? Then the vole moved on and the cold, icy silence returned. 

Tomas noticed that the remains were fixed to the rod with iron chains, some about the neck, the waist and the ankles. The wrists, bound in similar fashion, were pulled 'round the back. And the chains themselves were melted into place, apparently the result of unspeakable torture. But no sound rose up from the horrific leavings and he prepared to leave, desirous of a sweeter place to sleep. It was at that point, when the silvery slivers of moonlight slicing into the place through spidery rents in the old, stone walls played across his shifting body that the 'presence' began to speak. 

They put me in the 'soup' - it said in a low and sonorous voice. The vampire wasn't sure if he actually heard the words or felt them with his mind. But he knew that they were real, so he listened.... The thing went on - But the soup was too hot, so I died. Lead it was... molten lead, cooked in an iron pot. a great witches cauldron brought hence from Scotland and once used by the ancient Stewarts somewhere in the vicinity of Holyrood House. Edinburgh was the seat of great crimes and the souls of the tortured still writhe about the Old Town like banshees. But I digress. A well read man, I was and learned in many things.

Tomas, almost afraid to speak, whispered - Why did they do it? ... For he too remembered brutal acts.... And the soul of the learned man went on... Because they could - he said. Some people are like that. I fell afoul of a powerful man. You knew him too, Hebrew, back in the early days of this place. You are Hebrew, are you not? I can feel the resonance of souls and can discern even a Methodist from an Anglican. Tomas, also known as Jonathon said that he was, but with a certain reticence, for he remembered a time when such an affirmation meant martyrdom. But the tortured spirit, desirous of telling its own tale went on... Lead melts at nine hundred degrees. I knew than even before the killed me. Bound to his bar I was. I'm bound to it still. And they raised me up and lowered me in. I screamed. I pleaded... Please, crack my head. Shatter my skull. Please, throttle me before you do this thing. Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! I begged. I cried. I whimpered. I peed. They laughed. Said I was trying to cool the broth. And they dropped me down a little more. A whole apparatus they had... A series of chains. And there was some argument as to whether I should go in horizontally, facing downward, or feet first. But after some deliberation ( oh, how I relished those moments) they picked the later course, since it would prolong the pain. Logical to a fault they were. Nine hundred degrees... Twice as hot as an oven. And suspended as I was, maybe six feet above the thick and hellish brew, my toenails began to smolder, like hot glass pressed upon the delicate skin beneath. I begged again, but they ignored me. Eight of them there were. Two to do the job and six to watch. But they wisely stepped back, lest errant gobbets burn them too. 

They say the body falls into shock. They say nerves shut down and those burned alive go numb, pathetic witnesses to their own immolation. They say a lot of things and they are wrong. I lived it all. A thick, heavy searing viscosity,bathed in Satan's own shit I was. And all I could do was tremble. How I trembled. I twisted. I writhed trying to smash my head against the bar. But I was bound too close. One of them joked and said - Oh, smells like roasting pork.... But I couldn't even scream and even the slop in my stomach began to boil...... Then the glassy surface of my eyes began to smoke. I was all alone in hell and didn't deserve to be there...

Now if spirits still had tears, this one would be crying. For that's what Tomas heard. And such a mournful, helpless sound it was. He touched the skull and it stopped. But after a time it went on. And Tomas was scared. Some ghosts hold on tight, binding the unwary like flies caught in a web.... locked in misery and sadness forever... with no way to break free... eternal partners in death...

But take your leave and rest now. I'll tell you more tomorrow...


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Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Tomas Remembers Ancient Tortures... 10/30/31

One night he found a ruined house, a rather large house, probably a manor of some sort once belonging to an old land grant dynasty. Tomas liked exploring such structures. They reminded him of times past. This one dated from the seventeenth century, to the age of The Lord Protector (William Penn's title) himself. Our vampire friend came over with him, you know. Although he did take pains to hide his unusual condition while on board, some curious members of the crew were still able to learn things.I believe he devoured two or three of them. But they were seamen of the roughest sort and easily replaceable by the press gangs of the day. 

He slept in a large, oaken chest more akin to coffin than luggage, down in the deepest part of the hold, surrounded by cold round stones brought on board to add weight and counteract the inherent instability of the craft. Sometimes an inquisitive sailor slid down to look around. 'Feel around' would be more apt, since they were forbidden candles, lanterns or any type of flame produced illumination. And they'd hear moans coming from the chest. Horrid sounds  taken as the presence of an Earth-bound spirit sealed within. 

But Tomas was just dreaming, as life-eaters often do, reliving a past when torture was a game... a much appreciated entertainment, staged by royals, nobles, or ecclesiastic types for the macabre delight and fearsome edification of the unwashed masses.... Imagine... sealed in a chest not much bigger than a casket. There was no opening and closing of the lid, there couldn't be. It was sealed shut. But that doesn't mean he didn't get out. Tomas' ability to sublimate through various forms of matter was already well developed. In some stories they say the chest was lead, but  it couldn't be, for he wouldn't have been able to pass through that, though solid English oak was something else. 

That's how he dispatched the curious seamen. That's how he ate them, or at least their blood. The first one came down into the dark with an ax, determined to breech his temporary tomb. But with the first strike our vampire broke free, moving through the specially hardened wood as you or I might walk through mist. And in that darkness he grabbed him. But there could be no killing on board, not vampire style anyway. For that would result in the cold, blue flame and although surrounding materials are usually not effected by it, one never knows. Vampires rarely take chances. Then he sublimated again, out through the stout, thick hull (also good English oak) and into the open sea, proceeding through the brine til the ship seemed little more than a toy floating on a silver tinged, nighttime sea. The soon to be victim gasped for air, as they bobbed among the waves. He'd yell. He cursed and he died out there in the frigid water, as a nosferatu (they all knew that word) pierced his throat and swallowed up his blood. Did the blue flame still happen? Yes, it always does. Every drained husk ignites and burns away. Some on board may have seen a phosphorescence out there in the dark. But maybe not. When it was done Tomas moved back, passing through the hull and into his box. 

But what did Tomas find in that old, stone ruin, mentioned up above? What fearsome remnant lingered there hidden and forgotten in the deepest cellar? He found bones and they were glazed in a dull, metallic skin.... a 'banana man' plunged in molten lead, hotter than the surface of Venus, just like London costermongers did with that new, yellow delicacy from the tropics, only they used molten chocolate, an equally novel delicacy, instead.

And the bones began to speak...


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Monday, October 28, 2013

12 Years A Slave Theatrical Trailer ... BAYLAH, of The Vampire Wonderland, requests you to experience this film

One whose life is detailed in our ongoing narrative recommends you see this film. The Lady Baylah suffered a similar fate... and after two hundred and fifty years she still remembers. Ask one of our elferinos or elferinas what it was like to be welded alive into a leaden cask and thrown into the sea. Night-folk suffer many pains. The constraints of our primitive culture compel us to pretend they're fiction, yet they are very real. The events portrayed in this film are real too and positively Biblical in their proportions. 

Tomas, also known as Jonathon, is traveling now, a night-folk Johnny Appleseed. We detailed his reality last night and will do so again. But watch the trailer down below and think what it was like back in a time when people were possessions and lives destroyed like pawns.

Who do you identify with? How much could you take? What would you have done? This time is not so far away. The last known person born a slave died fifty years ago. 

Please share your views and COMMENTS. As always, more episodes and postings can be accessed via this link ~> ... Join me on twitter at ~> @wilkravitz ... thank you for your time.


I am gone. I left the town house yesterday evening and now wander about somewhere in the western suburbs. Of course you know it is I, Jonathon, also known as Tomas. My thoughts manifest upon the screen via the fingers of wilkravitz. I project. He types. We've done it this way before. Our disembodied spirit 'helpers' don't like it, but they soon forget and are easily distracted. You know they travel at the speed of thought, so God knows where they are now. Mister Never-You-Mind likes casinos and whiskey bars. I know that. Baylah says she feels him sometimes around Atlantic City. And sometimes he feels showgirls. Zebulon likes to explore. He claims he's seen some of the other planets in our own star system. But I'm not sure he can do that. It's not that easy maintaining coherence so far from home in spirit form. Some extremely powerful vampires, like 'Papa' can do it, but other beings tend to diffuse into a weak and vaporous state. I don't know why, even after a thousand years. But that's just how it is.

So far I saved a suicidal boy walking along some train tracks. He knew the schedule. One was due to come by any minute. Dumb kid. Thought it'd be fast, instantaneous and painless. But that's not how it is. A body can live as long as the heart and lungs still work. That's why some poor souls burned at the stake trembled so long. Didn't scream anymore. Just trembled. Even the eyes would pop and explode. But they were still alive. I told the kid this. He said - Dude, how the hell do you know?..... I showed him my fangs. You know. I made that face. Didn't even scare him at all. He just went 'oh.' Asked if I had any money. Told him I didn't. Could get some. I could always call a 'familiar.' But he wanted it now. So I walked him over to this mall and we sublimated through the entrance. He liked that. Said he felt a buzz when the energy entered his body. You know, if a vampire holds someone real tight when they sublimate, that person goes with them. He closed his eyes. I told him too. Takes half a heartbeat , even less, and it's over. 

The mall was closed for the night. I suppose they have watchmen, but I never saw one. I'm sold they eat cheese sandwiches and bananas at a desk in front of security monitors. One night I'll look. Took the kid into a department store for sneakers and blue jeans. Wrote down all we took. Later, in a few days or so, I'll have one of my financial 'familiars' send a check. He wanted a leather jacket, but we couldn't get the plastic rope security thing off. And I didn't want to break it, because I didn't want to set off an alarm. Think he took a plastic bag full of tropical fish from a pet store too. Told him we'd have to get them home fast, or they'd freeze. Then I grabbed him and sublimated up through the air. He thought that part was cool. I knew he was afraid. I could feel his heart pound, but he'd never admit it. Now I don't know this area, so I couldn't ask him for directions. But I basically felt the route via telepathy and 'dropped' him in his parents' driveway eight minutes later. Old neighbor lady across the way saw us from her bathroom window. But he said she was mostly senile, so it didn't matter. He asked me what else I was gonna do. I said - I'm gonna kill a guy, but he shouldn't worry, 'cause it's a bad 'dude' I saw in a vision.... He said - Is that how vampires operate?.... I said - Yeah, that's how I do.... Kid just nodded. I said - You want to watch?... Then I gave him this little grin.... Kid goes - Nah. I once saw a dude accidentally hang himself at the circus. So that's OK.....I asked him if he was glad he didn't kill himself... He nodded. We said 'see ya' and I left. 

Twenty five minutes later I 'culled' a real low life outside a convenience store. He just robbed the place. Old Korean lady inside was all beat up. Gave her a few drops of blood to fix her up. She was happy to get her money back. Offered me a free Slurpee. A blue one, I think. Told her thanks, but no thanks. Then I left, just like the Lone Ranger. 

Just before dawn I went back to the mall and slept in a storage room. Place was filled with all this shrink wrapped Easter stuff, so I figured nobody's gonna go in there. Washed up in a little toilet. Even got a new pair a boxers with little Easter eggs all over them. For a vampire, living on the road is easy. Some don't live any other way.

Funny how my speech patterns change depending where I am. That's a night-folk survival mechanism. You should have heard me in Restoration London. 'Me thinks, gadzooks!' and all that. But if I spoke that way here it'd sound real schmucky

You know, there's not always a lot of big drama in a vampire's life. What you see on TV is just fiction. and I hope you all know that.


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Sunday, October 27, 2013

THE BOOK OF JONATHON, also known as Tomas...... A VAMPIRE FACES REALITY... 10/27/13

The next night they wandered through the museums. Sarah liked that. She hadn't done it in a long time. One or two of the guards knew of their presence. Not that they understood exactly what they were, but they had an inkling. Strange things happen in a city as old as this. Of course I speak of New World standards. Europe, Africa and Asia have far older. But even that's not completely true. Some MesoAmerican cities go back thousands of years too. But I digress, as only a disembodied spirit who was in the flesh for a scant thirteen years can. It is I, Zebulon, the precocious Judean boy stoned for witchcraft back in the days of Rabbis Hillel and Yossi (known to the trinitarians as 'Jesus'). And please don't think such a thing was an ordinary event, for it was not.  One or two executions per century was the rule. I was but the victim of circumstance and the focus of many converging occurrences.

They sit in The Cloisters. Tomas and Sarah, I mean. It's dark, though a few discreet, tiny electric night lights shed a feeble glow. He likes this space. Reminds him of medieval Europe. Actually, the installation is quite authentic. Romanesque, I believe and brought over from the vicinity of  Rouen sometime after their First World War. We had many World Wars in Roman times.  In that respect, unfortunately, no age is unique.

They whispered. He spoke first - I know I can't change humanity. I can only change individual humans and maybe, in that way, I can change them all..... Then he just sat there gazing at the paving stones of that enclosed space meant for contemplation and quiet study.... What will you do? Are you going to leave right away? - she asked..... Not leave, wander - he said. Much as I did before this time. I don't know how far I'll go. I know I'll come back often. To the house, I mean. Maybe they'll still think of me as 'Dark Mister.' I don't know. Perhaps I'll give that role to Blackie. He'd like that..... Sarah nodded and said - You did copy the look from him.... Tomas smiled and nodded too..... I liked it in the woods - he said.  Some nights were peaceful. The spirits have their gentle moments. Last night's story isn't an every night thing. They don't like humans. But most people never penetrate too deep.  and I didn't count..... So you're gonna be a nature boy? - she said..... No, just sometimes. I'll still be around here. You'll see me a lot, relatively speaking. But I won't stay at the house all the time. And I won't restrict myself to Center City. If I find other night-folk who resent that, we'll work it out. I'm not afraid of them. You know what I got from 'Papa.' I'm fairly powerful. The ones I'm liable to find round here don't scare me. And I don't think they scare you either. Look, you'll still have the house. Conrad and what's-his name... Leo - she said.... Yes, Leo - he added. Isn't he dead?.... I don't know - she said. I can't tell anymore. It's like we're bits of meat in soup. Sometimes we're stirred to the top. Sometimes we sink to the bottom. Peek-a-boo, I see you. Sometimes you do and sometimes you don't. I have to tell you, being a vampire is a really strange way to live. ... He hugged her and said - Believe me, I know.

So they passed through the galleries looking at paintings. The guards seemed to avoid them. Maybe due to vampire magic? Then they sublimated up through the vast building. You know it. You've seen it in ROCKY, and passed through the cold, night air (in itself, a kind of sublimation too), drifting over the city, til they settled on the roof of the townhouse and watched the sky turn gray. Then Sarah went inside. But Jonathon, also known as Tomas did not, preferring to find a different place to hide. 

For years upon years he was stuck in a moment, trying to change the world. Now he's on a different path and seeks to change himself.

That's all I'm going to tell you now. If you want, this would be a good time to scroll back a post and listen to that song. It suits the mood quite well. 

Zebulon says 'good night.'


link~>WANDER THROUGH EVERY GALLERY OF VAMPIRE WONDERLAND ... Twitter~> @wilkravitz ... please use the space down below and leave a COMMENT. I'd appreciate it a lot. thank you.

Saturday, October 26, 2013

Bono And The Edge Stuck In A Moment Live Letterman 2011. Part 2...ALE

You got to get yourself together and listen to this. Tomas LOVES it. He was shocked to see only 16,021 plays on You Tube. Guess more of us gotta do that 'gettin' together? 

It's like a clue to what's coming later in The Vampire Wonderland. Our vampiric hero been waffling for, well we've only shared the last three years, but he's been doing it for centuries... And now it stops

If you've never spent time with us, or if you have, but want to see more, please click on our FEEDREADER CHANNEL and look around. You can scroll all the way back to the beginning. Here it is ~>EVERY EPISODE, OVER 700,000 WORDS ... and lets like up on Twitter too ~>@wilkravitz ... thanks.


It was too cold to sit out in the small back garden. They liked that spot and as vampirici were immune to germ borne illness. But the icy chill was uncomfortable and offensive to them, for it brings to mind the dead, cold nihilism of the tomb. Most night-folk, save for deranged individuals given to haunting cemeteries and ossuaries avoid it. They can tolerate it, but do not chose to. Vampires are by nature epicures, favoring comfort and fine trappings. Tomas is no different, though from time to time they like to get away, as he did during the recent wanderings into the north woods. So he and Sarah sat before the orange glow of a waning fire and he told her what he saw. Her concerns regarding his new 'superhero' thing, though very real, would wait. Impatient she is not.

The warm and comfortable 'family room' is a good place to talk. The trim, 'youthful' vampirino considered the tiny flames for a moment and began..... I'd forgotten how alive it is. No, maybe I always knew that, but I'd forgotten how aware it is too. - he said. Knowing entities are everywhere. And what we see as physical form is immaterial to them. Oh, they can project such a thing. They can be sprites, or Pucks, or I don't know, even Smurfs if they want. But most times they're just there, watching, knowing, whispering and sharing. Some are no more than glorified thought. Others are able to focus and manifest real, physical strength. 'Spirits of the wood' we call them. And by 'we' I mean vampires and mortals too. For what are we, but enchanted humans. I like the word 'enchanted' better than 'infected.' What kind of candle is that on the table there?..... Sarah leaned over and picked it up..... Is says 'Big Sur.' I guess it's a woodsy, ocean thing. - she said.... Then she lit it, for that's what he really meant. After a few heartbeats the aroma, which was really quite good, began to fill the room. 

Tomas went on - But humans are just things to them, walking, farting puppets. Hikers fart a lot, you know. It's what they eat. Or perhaps it's all the exertion walking over rough track. I don't know, but they do fart a lot. And the wood spirits pick up on it. Maybe that's why they leave vampires alone, because we don't do that. But I saw what they did to a twosome. A father and son I believe they were. All decked out in new fall gear. Pants tucked into socks, the better to avoid the little 'vampires' crawling there. So careful they were, with their knapsack filled with food and all. I wanted to warn them but it happened so fast. As it was daylight, I was deep in a cave, drifting rather then sleeping. But I monitor my surroundings via remote vision. You know how I do that. We all do, especially in strange surroundings. So I was helpless and couldn't have done anything anyway. Looking back, I think they meant to torture me too.

The boy seemed to be about eleven, or twelve. Just shy of what we would call an elferino (pubescent vampire) and such a good, little fellow he was, talking and smiling. He liked the animals, the chipmunks and all. But he slipped, just like that, down a steep embankment strewn with fallen trees, rocks, leaves and all manner of things. I think there was even a half rotted deer carcass. Tumbled down like a tossed doll. But one foot caught under a fresh, heavy tree trunk, while the rest of his body continued on its way. I don't know if that would have happened in nature, or if the wood spirits did it, but the trapped limb twisted and tore right off his body, just like a chicken leg chopped through the joint, though this was much more ragged. Even his pants ripped free. I can't remember if he made any noise. Remote viewing is like that. He just lay there, wide eyed and stricken, gasping like a fish. The father skittered down in an instant. I heard him. He screamed - No! No! No! No! No!.... Two heartbeats later he lost his footing and smashed his head on a jagged rock. He died quick, but the boy lingered for perhaps two or three minutes more. Oh how the blood drew flies. I couldn't hear it but I knew, no, I mean it... I really knew the wood spirits were laughing. They hate humans, you know. View them as bumbling interlopers. That's why they do what they do.... 'Lost in the woods'.... 'Killed by a bear'.... 'Drowned in the rapids'..... Do you think those things happen in and of themselves all the time?

Later, when it got dark, I came out and there in the moonlight said prayers for them. The old Hebrew Kaddish prayer. Magnified and sanctified be the Kingdom of The Lord and all that.... But the spirits still laughed. A few hours later I found a shuttered supply hut, a place where hikers could stop and buy things. I sublimated through the door, found what I needed and left a note telling them where to find the bodies. God knows what they made of that note, or how it got there. Everything still locked so snug and tight.

Then he stopped talking. He just sat there. And Sarah knew why he needed the solace of games. So she never said much about that 'Dark Mister' thing. Edith came down to remind them it'd be light soon. They thanked her and said that they knew. Then they went down together and slept...


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Friday, October 25, 2013


He was walking down a narrow, ancient, Center City street. Tomas likes 'making his rounds.' He checks things. It's how he keeps the peace, when he's not 'culling' somebody and all. And the quiet, old byways are his favorites. This one has small, cozy rowhouses with white marble steps. Scaled down, 'city trees' line the curb and mellow, red bricks pave the sidewalk. They're a little bit uneven and lumpy, but that only adds to the shadowy, storybook atmosphere.

Most of the windows were dark. Most of the people were snug in their beds. Here and there a kitty-cat lounged on a window sill, perched between the wrong side of the draperies and the cold panes of glass.  Tomas nodded to each as he went by. Vampires have a special thing for cats. And the cats know it.

He found a homeless woman huddled by a doorstep. She was sleeping. He didn't wake her. She had a new quilt. Someone must have helped her. At least that part was all right. But he made her night even better, taking off his own designer watch and snapping it 'round her pudgy wrist. Tomas had plenty. Tomorrow she could sell it. They wouldn't give her what it was truly worth. He knew that. But at least the 'honest' ones would give her the gold value. At least she'd have that. And the tortoise shell kitty in the window approved.

Seventeen heartbeats before he reached the corner the cold, night air to his left began to fizz. No froth. No foam. Nothing like that. Just a quick, little, rapid pulse of electric frisson. And six seconds later his consort, Sarah, appeared by his side. Tomas looked at her and smiled a rather pleased and somewhat naughty, sensual smile. And she smiled back. Then he took her hand and they walked on. 

New trick? - he said. I've never seen you do that before...... Sarah said - Yeah, new trick. And I like your new outfit too. Not completely different. You always leaned in that direction. Just more pulled together and sharp....... Thank you. - he said...... They continued  down another street equally as snug and the vampirina sweetheart said - You can tell me. What do they call you now. It's all right. I know....... Tomas said - The Midnight Rambler, or M.R., or Dark Mister...... And which do you like best? - She asked....... D-Dark Mister - He said...... Sarah whispered - No, I meant Silvia, or Aura...... He just went - Oh.....After a few heartbeats she said - It's all right. I understand this 'vampire' thing now. I know the way it is and I know the way it'll be and I know it's not just those two. I know that. But I think you should know a few things too....... Her vampirino partner didn't say a word.

They continued in silence (not that night-folk make much noise at all when they talk) til they got home, but when they entered the townhouse, Sarah began again... She had come to see things a certain way during their time alone and now she wanted him to know. 


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Thursday, October 24, 2013


Now the vampirina, Sarah was steadfast in her faith and she did not intentionally travel so far, preferring to wander here and there throughout the city and it's environs. Although, she was seen in more distant realms as well. And her night years pale when compared to those of her consort. She has only walked through darkness for perhaps thirty six moons. But the 'responsibility' is very real to her and she dispenses assistance with the pure conviction of a saint.

Many desperate souls have tasted her blood. The sick have been made well. Those with noxious growths gnawing at their flesh recovered and the starving knew satisfaction. The 'Lady' of Philadelphia they call her. But in no way does she ask for it, unlike that previous time when Baylah played 'Our Lady of The Olive Garden' to starch-drugged diners in the parking lot of a noted eatery.

And now she comes back to the town house. Oh they've had scenes like this before. Night-folk always vacillate between the spiritual and the profane. If my voice sounds familiar to you that is natural. I am Johannon, the body servant once charged with the safety of Jonathon also-known-as-Tomas, during the last days of his mortality, though we did not know that then. But my spirit still hovers near him, jostling for position with other disembodied souls desirous of your attention. For word is this will one day soon become a graphic novel, or (if God wills it) a screenplay and you know how 'ghosts' crave fame.

This is how she did it. The Lady Sarah, I mean. This is how she got the blood.... She'd ask for it... venturing into pubs and taverns when the clock struck twelve. She'd sit down, take a out a Bible and put it on the bar. Sometimes she'd read it. Sometimes she wouldn't. And I do not know if the scriptures in question were trinitarian or unitarian. But the response was always the same. Those given to grog are sentimental sorts and cognizant of their sins. Needless to say, these were not gentle places, so the sins were often great. After a time they'd retreat to a booth where she would hear confessions. Sometimes they'd cry, but she'd comfort them and offer salvation. Then one, hopefully the worst, would be her meal and she'd kiss him in the alley til he died. Thus was she nourished. Soon, maybe four or five heartbeats after exsanguination, the empty, human husk ignited into a cold, blue flame (as vampire victims always do) and disappeared. Later, in the privacy of her lair (wherever that was), she'd pierce her fingers with tiny lancets and draw the blood, collecting it in  small, glass vials, originally meant for department store perfume samples and bought wholesale from a supply house in Cincinnati, having discovered such things on the web. Sarah is an up to date life-eater.... The tiny vials were dispensed to troubled mortals, preserving their lives and helping them carry on. That was her purpose. That's what she did.

Soon she'd see Tomas... and his new, ersatz 'Robin.' True, he often saved mortals in a similar manner. They all did. But now he was a superhero too..... 'Boys' and their games....

What would she think of that?... And would they still make love on a hidden bed of rose petals as always?

Shhh.... listen to her footfalls click against the pavement. Vampires walk with such purpose...


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Tuesday, October 22, 2013

THE ELEPHANT MAN makes the Vampire Known as Tomas Cry ... 10/23/13

I didn't know what to make of that new kid. Does he have family here? Are they looking for him? Is he in contact with them? What does he do? What talent does he have? Look, I've been servicing this blog for almost three years. Yeah, it's me, wilkravitz and I'm actually real concerned about this. We sit out in the small back yard... more like a glorified patio. And in the city it doesn't take much to be glorified. It's dark and it's cold. Not winter time cold, but considering we've had 'summer' til just about a week ago, it's cold. Edith drinks coffee. Even Tomas has a hot toddy. Conrad's back. And that other one... what's his name, 'Larry?' I lose track of them. Wasn't he 'dead' for a while? I don't know. But they're not here. Them two like to browse around an all-night supermarket. Come back with a whole mess a scented candles and a bunch a crap. Check out girls think they're crazy. They don't know they're vampires. Must think they're a couple. I don't know. 

Tomas is agitated. He wants to start something new and he's worried Sarah might not like it.  He really wants to be a superhero. Figures a vampire is perfect for that. Already has super powers and the requisite fashion sense. He likes the name too. Truthfully, it's already started. City Paper had an article about 'The Midnight Rambler' and how he saved some dude. (the 'dude' was that new kid). And street hoods don't want to get liquefied like them other thugs did. So now we got 'The Midnight Rambler'... 'M.R.'... and 'The Dark Mister.' Edith blows on her coffee and says she likes 'The Dark Mister' best. We all do.  But I don't know about 'Scratch.' That's what the new kid calls himself.  Wants a be 'Robin.' 

Tomas can't wait to go back out and do cool shit. Got his uniforms all ready. Bought a bunch a black skinny jeans at this Banana Republic store, the big one on Walnut Street. Got a mess of short sleeve and long sleeve t-shirts... just white... only white.... Leather jackets look good though. Bought three of them... black, real trim, nice collar. You know they gotta stand up just right. And I don't have to tell you about the black, leather bootkins?.... 'Bootkins.'.... He likes that word. Think it goes back to his nights in Restoration London. I don't know what the new kid wears. He's got some type of outfit too. I don't know. But in all honesty, let me ask you, what the hell is he supposed to do when Tomas vanquishes low-lifes with his vampire, I mean 'super' powers? What, just stand there like a cheerleader? Oh, that ain't never gonna work. 

And Tomas, also known as Jonathon, is serious. Came to him when he was watching The Elephant Man. Made him cry too. Latched onto the fact that John Merrick, the main character, was only in his twenties. I don't even know if  'character' is the right word, because it's a true story. Michael Jackson had his bones for a while. I don't know who has them now. Hope Tomas don't buy them. Bet someday somebody'll get a hold of Michael Jackson's bones. Maybe Justin Bieber, or Lady GaGa wants 'em? 

But he was crying that night. Tomas, I mean. Sat there watching it all. And this was just a few nights ago, because he ain't been back that long. Said - Look at him, an innocent young man. A child actually who only wants to fit in. Who only wants peace. Look at him...... And then the part where he dies, because he only wants to sleep lying down like a normal person. Couldn't do that because of the size and balance of his head. Had to sleep all propped up. But one night, after attending a small reception that went quite well (upper crust London used him like a toy, like a penny dreadful horror story passed from hand to hand) he did. But he was not like everyone else and so he died. Some said his neck snapped. Some said he suffocated. But he died. And you don't ever want to see a vampire cry like that, 'cause imagine what he's seen in his life.... A thousand years, you know. 

I don't think he's gonna sleep here every morning. Tomas has hidey-holes all over town... museum storage rooms.... hidden attics... basements. And you know about the mole-folks down in the tunnels now. That 'Scratch' kid's gonna sleep here though. Where else is he gonna go? What's Tomas supposed to do, give him twenty bucks after they (really just Tomas) liquefy somebody and say - Here, go get yourself a cab?..... People are gonna start recognizing  him. Cabbies are gonna start saying- Yo, I had Scratch in my cab last night.... That ain't gonna be good. That can't be right. 

So we're sitting here freezing on the back patio. It's a private, little place, cozy with potted plants and all. Tomorrow night's frost will probably kill them. Edith will call a guy and have him put in Chinese Winter Cabbage. Tomas wants it to look nice. Sarah too. We got a little cupboard out here with lap robes. That's just a fancy, back-in-the-day word for thick, plaid, wool blankets. Like what Nucky Thompson covers himself with when he goes for a cold weather rolling chair ride in Boardwalk Empire. Shores actually at it's best on cold, bright, clear winter days. A lot of people don't know that. A lot of people don't know a lot of things....

Even vampires....


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Susan 313 -- Sarah Silverman ..this is what a pilot looks like. COMMENTS?

Not my regular post, but an almost lost semi-precious gem you might want to see. Probably could be re-worked into a good stage show. Sarah plays a song writer, so even a THE GOOD-BYE GIRL for our time. Occasional references to woo-woo's and ding-dong's (not the cakes) so be forewarned. Oh, yeah..also a little like that movie where Burt Reynolds and Jill Clayburgh have this thing and Candace Bergen is the song writer.. I gotta take my stuff outta the drier and agonize over blog stats and not having an agent, so please excuse me... OH! If you DO want to read my stuff, click on the link I always have up~> ... or join me on Twitter~>@wilkravitz ...
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They have these rooms in the tunnels... all kinds of rooms. City was gonna use them for storage, or restrooms for the new subway lines. But the trains never came. For ninety years they been buried there collecting dust and a whole bunch of other sickening crap too. Tomas and his mole-girl sex partners use one for their trysts. Was gonna be a break room, a place for ticket girls and broom-men to eat lunch and take a crap. The old b'rooms are still there. Got a closet filled with antique 'piano rolls.' That means toilet paper. Sinks got old metal dispensers you crank this powdered soap out of. Got cans of old, caked up powdered soap too. And all of it's covered in dust... maybe rat dander too.

Mole-girls dragged in this old mattress. Looks like it came from World War I. You know, that back in the day 'ticking' and all? That's where they lay. But first they do other stuff.  Tomas has this trick where he sublimates right through his clothes. The girls like it. Looks like something Bugs Bunny would do in an old Warner Bros. cartoon. He just stands there and goes WHOOSH!... Then he's fifteen feet out in front of his pants and all, which stand up fluttering and swaying for a few seconds before falling down on the floor. Other times he does it different... just steps steps through the garments like they're made of smoke. That's how he did it tonight. Aura and Silvia start clapping. New, human, 'familiar' kid sits on an old wooden folding chair taking it all in.  They'll let him watch the sponge bath part, but when they get to the other stuff I don't think they'll let him sit there. 

Sponge baths are like a ritual with them. Girls got these basins. White enamel they are. Real old. From one of the storage rooms. Chipped, but not too bad. Sponges look new... natural ones from some day spa down in The Concourse. That's an underground mall. Runs under the mid-town area. Think Kevin Bacon's father designed it back in the early nineteen fifties.  No, really. That's true. He was like a city planner. Like what Robert Moses was to New York, only people actually liked him. Side bar---- Do you know every time they plan a new construction project in Center City, Philadelphia, archaeologists have to 'OK' the area first, because they almost always find buried corpses, bones and artifacts from back in them powdered wig days. Washington Square park was an old cemetery. Didn't move the bodies or nothing. Just landscaped everything real nice so yuppie-dogs could crap all over 'em. Can't do that now though. Dead folks got rights too, you know. But let me get back to the floor show. 

First them girls wet him down real good. One do the front. One do the back. Sometimes they spin 'round and trade places.  Do every little part... all the bits and pieces. Vampire don't say nothin'. But you can tell he like it. Likes the soapy part too. Then they sponge it off with un-soapy water. After that, he do them, one at a time. Aura help him do Silvia. Silvia help him do Aura. Still quiet. No words. Got light, just a little bit, but enough, from two or three fat, creamy candles. Think mole-folk make 'em from dead pigeons. Every once in a while one a them tremble a little bit, 'cause it feel real good. 'Familiar' kid make like he readin' some old, dried up book they got down there. Not a book... a magazine actually..., old black and white National Geographic, from back when the cover just got printin' on it. It got mostly naked ladies doin' folk dances inside. Amazin' how much naked-ladies-doin'-folk-dances pictures they had a take back then. Guess people had a learn all the steps..... Then, when mole-girls all ready for Tomas a start pesterin' them, they shew kid outta there. Make him sit in a tunnel all by himself. But he not really all by himself, 'cause 'Ghost Teeth' Auggie out there too. He a mole-man wit' crazy teeth what glow in the dark, 'cause he drink a whole bottle (used bottles in them days) a radium paint from one a they storerooms. Was gonna use it for the numbers on clock faces, I guess, 'case the 'lectricity leak out. They was always feared 'lectricity gone leak out back in them days. Think it like spaghetti sauce, or somethin'. Auggie got an old, little plastic television. He set with it on his lap. All it get is movies... old black and white movies where all the folks is good an' dead. 'Familiar' kid start watchin'. Think it Gunga Din. Bunch a Englishters fightin' all them screamin' Hindu folks.But one Englishter look right at them. Auggie and the kid, I mean. Just like the screen a window and he can see right through it. Lookin', jus' lookin'. That when the kid see it not connected. He jump a little when it sink in, but not too much, considerin' what his last few days been like.

Then Tomas finishes, Gunga Din dies and they go back home.

Streets is quiet late at night. It like three thirty. Folks is out, but mostly they shuffle 'round like zombies. Nobody pay no mind to vampire and his 'familiar.' Good thing Tomas not shred his clothes when he sublimate through 'em, 'cause sometime he do that.

But not tonight.


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Monday, October 21, 2013


First people come down during the Great Depression. Ain't got nowhere else to live, 'cept like a Hoovert0wn down by the dumps. And it get cold inside a cardboard box. Yeah, them boxes was bigger and heavier back in the day, but nights was still pretty chilly and not everybody had a box. 

Got one fella led the way. Beggar-man he was. Worked the subways. I do not know which line. Could a been Market Street. Could a been Broad Street, or the part that go through China Town. Don't think Locust Street was open back then. You see, I am a new 'ghost.' Ain't been dead too long. If you go to my house, they still got box a my shoes down in the cellar. And two pair I still like. Some a them old ghosts forget what it like to have feet. Just fly 'round like that blue Aladdin genii. But that ain't me. 

Beggar-man get a dime. Once or twice a quarter. Mostly he get pennies. Three a them buy you fishcake and glass a soda. So that ain't always bad. Folks come down. Mostly men folk in them days. Maybe women what answer telephones or type up letters. Maybe one what teach rich folk kids to play piano, mush up with some fella like a vice-wife, or something. That about it. 

One night (it winter time) station real crowded. Folks got Christmas shopping. Got bottles a liquor and all kinds a stuff. It like a parade down there. That how tight it is. Santy Claus man ringin' bell. Little bit drunk folk singin' Baby Jesus song. Fat boy cryin' cause mama not buy him no coloring book. Old man fartin'. You know how it get.

Beggar-man go over to lady what got two dead foxes 'round her neck. Got like a coat too, but she got them foxes on top a it. Got black marbles for eyes. Not her, them foxes. Make 'em look like they makin' 'eyes' at folks. Back in the day every old lady gotta have dead foxes, 'cause live ones be scratchin' and bitin' people too much. Worse than cats they is. Beggar-man ask if she give him nickle for a 'Texas Tommy.' That a hot-dog wit' cheese down the inside and bacon on the outside. He put his hand out. Make real sad face.  But fat kid what ain't got no coloring book start wavin' his arms around like he a windmill. Skinny hunchback jump outta way. Push Beggar-man into dead fox lady. She go - Ow! You jab me right in part a my tittie, you big, dumb, nut!.... Cop run over and say - Tittie!? Tittie!? Y'all can't say no 'tittie' in here! People go berserk they hear word like that.... Lady start explainin', but subway train pull in an' beggar-man use that big windy dragon noise to cover up his retreat. Takes hisself deep in a corner, far away, as all that big chunk a humanity squish theyself into them cars 'fore it belch fire an' run off again.

Then he breathe in an' out real quiet like. Some folk say it scary bein' down there on that platform all alone. Say you see the ghost a all them what been run over by the train. But he don't care 'bout that. They not gone hurt him. He see 'em an' they say - Good evenin'... But mostly he jus' sit there, up 'gainst that tile wall, on a little bench. Got a big, old metal door hard by the corner. It all green, 'cause if the government paint it, it gotta be green. That like a United States law. But this the Depression and folks been stealin' stuff, like the big, metal padlock on the door. Beggar-man open it. He want a warm place to sleep. Still want a Texas Tommy, but that gone have to wait. It dark in there. It real dark... dead dark. But he go inside, strike a match and take hisself down a long flight a stairs (they all government green too), down to where them tunnels be. City gonna one time use 'em for more trains, but they don't need no more trains. So now they just big, old tunnels snakin' every which way in the dark. Got some ghosts shufflin' 'round down there too. But they don't say nothin' to him and he don't say nothin' to them. Curls up 'gainst a wall and sleeps. Next night he come down wit' friends. An' that how the mole-folks is born.

Vampire known as Tomas an' new 'familiar' kid down there now. They come in a different way, climbin' down from that scorpion store, but all roads lead to Rome.

Aura and Silvia waitin'. Got everything all ready. Got they clothes all folded up. Got candles all lit. They don't know 'bout no 'familiar' kid, but that's all right.

The more the merrier...

But that part not told tonight...


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Saturday, October 19, 2013


I don't have time. Keep up - said the vampire known as Tomas.... and the kid he rescued a few nights ago shoved the empanada into his mouth and hurried off. I can imagine how old a street cart empanada is at twelve thirty on Saturday night. but I'm not sayin' nothin'. Kid's gonna  be a 'familiar,'.... a night-folk 'helper.' Tomas gonna set him up with two 'morning show' deejays he knows.  He gonna be like the Baa-Baa Booey and that is a very respected comedy position. 

Tomas got on his usual outfit. More like a uniform. Got the cool, leather bootkins.. the skinny, black jeans.. white tee shirt... He got the leather jacket, but don't got it on. 'Familiar' kid totin' that. Gonna call him 'Scratch.' Be like Robin, only not with no leotards. Kid ask Tomas what he 'sposed to wear, but don't get no answer.  Vampire in a hurry. He wanna get there and don't wanna sublimate through nothing on account a his hair. Got it just perfect tonight... all lose and wavy and hangin' jus' right. You know how he be with his hair.  Wanna get some ink too. Think he be watchin' too much a The Voice.  But it not gonna make no difference. Vampire skin shed Tattoo after one lunar month anyway.

He got date with Aura and Silvia. They mole gals from them tunnels below the subways. Don't know if they the same Aura and Silvia from before. But that don't make no diff. Mole king always got two gals wit' them names. Used a think they was his daughters. But they not his daughters. They just his Aura and Silvia. That make more sense, seein' how he like to sponge 'em down and all. 

Edith say Sarah comin' back. She get message in front part a her head. Not the outside a her head... the inside, where the brain be. She a mind reader. She a lotta shit. Also make good waffles. Sarah Tomas' vampire wife. Not like Morticia Addams, though. She more casual like. Wear sports brassiere... sneakers... lady fruit a the loom panties. Look like gal from Rocky Horror Show. Janet, I think she be. 

Tomas takin' side street. Don't like when people look at him. Some folk see him do his superhero shit. Take picture. It all over . Now he 'Midnight Rambler.' That his name. Paper cut it down. Call him M.R.... Now he 'the Dark Mister' too.  Don't wanna say, but he like that a little bit better. 

Samson Street, where they is, narrow, little place. Got all kind cozy, weird store there too. Go down steps to get in 'em. Look like that street where Parry Hotter shop . 'Cept if you start wavin' 'round no wand you gone get beat up. But it real quiet now. Folks gettin' drunk somewheres else. Stores all closed up too. 'Cept for one. It The Scorpion Lady. She got ev'ry kind you could want.... black ones... gray ones... big ones... red ones... Some got pretty faces if you look at 'em real close. Not like people pretty. But for bug they is.  She got 'em in little glass boxes... like poisonous jewelry wit' legs. It dark in there, but not real dark. Got tiny, little bedroom lamp all over... on shelf.. on table... on case.. Got ticky-tock clocks... wood floor... silk wall paper. Dark red, I think it is. Tomas say it hide the blood. 

Vampire and the kid hop down steps and knock on door. Scorpion Lady say 'hi' and let 'em in. She listnin' a somethin' on her 'pooter. It like a lap top 'pooter. She watch real good songs and funny stuff on it. I do hoo-doo and get site outta her head if you wanna know. It ~> ... You can go there now if you like, 'cause I think them sites never close. Think some a the funny stuff got Jimmy Fallon. Ev'body know 'bout Jimmy Fallon. Specially vampires what stay up late. 

Scorpion Lady say - Where you goin'?.... Tomas say - Why you ask?.... Then he smile, cause he know she know..... She say - Who that?..... Vampire go - He my new 'familiar.' I gone show him the ropes...... Then he go - Yo, lady, open the door..... She unlock two, old, heavy, wood door back in a corner. Look like a cupboard, but it ain't. Like a elevator shaft it is. Big an' dark. But it ain't got no elevator, just two, old, thick, hemp ropes hangin' all the way down in the dark..... Tomas stand over by the edge and motion inside. Then he say - Behold!.... Kid go - Behold what?.... Tomas say - Behold them. They the ropes.... Then he give kid drop a his blood to make him stronger an' they grab on. Climb all the way down. Go like a hundred and fifty feet... Down pas' subway. Down pas' other shit. Got like human bones wedged in a niche. But I not know what they from.

Mole-folk live at the bottom. Got a tunnel down there but it dark. It real dark. Only light come from rat eyes. You know how they shine orange an' all? But long way down come a yellow glow, like from a can a Sterno or somethin'.

Dark Mister an' Scratch (that they new names)  creep toward it....

But that for tomorrow night...


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The Vampire Tomas and The Witchy-Woman Edith Talk Over Spirits... 10/19/13

I came back with Tomas, a wind sprite from the forest primeval, a place you know as 'Adirondacks.' The witchy-woman identified as 'Edith' knows my brethren from the trees she calls 'The Jersey Pines.' Ask me not my name. I know it not. Perhaps I have one. Some entity or other may have conferred it, but the lilt and rhythm of it is lost to me. 

I vibrate within the mineral and metallic confines of this communicative device you call 'computer.' Such clever beings you are, publicly eschewing magic, yet trapping it in cunning wrappers such as this.

They sit together, Tomas, the vampire and the witchy-woman. She takes comfort from a toddy. He savors the pungent smoke from a candle. 'Autumn spice' I'm told it's called. The witchy-woman trades for them at a place known as 'Yankee Candle.' They occupy (the two of them) high, stool-like seats in the kitchen, though the space so defined is far grander than any such place I have ever tasted. Granite and murdered tree floors and such as that. It's dark. The vast, 'hot' (dense with souls) city sleeps. Dawn comes, but not yet. He tells her things and she listens. Witchy-folk, being inquisitive by nature, love new things.

A 'ghost' or more accurately body-free spirit from the basement listens too. They know of his existence, yet not of his presence at this time. The disembodied soul is very quiet and discreet. 

Tomas tells her how alive the world is... how every part of it resonates with sprites, such as myself and other things too. Some think on a human level. Some far beyond. She says she knows. He nods. Witchy-folk are like that. He tells her of isolated Red Paint settlements far to the north in the mountains fleshy beings call 'Laurentians.'  She says she knows that too, for some Red Paints dwelt where she's from in the 'Pines.'

And the kid he rescued two nights ago is with them too, sitting off to the side at a table, trying to levitate a yellow, plastic, banana shaped refrigerator magnet. See, I learn fast. But it's easy to learn vibrating around in a magical tool such as this.

Shhh, the 'angry birds' and pornographic vixens inhabiting this place ready for battle. This wood sprite wants to watch...

Magic has returned to the vast assemblage you call Philadelphia. Not that it ever really left. But with the arrival of Tomas (also known as Jonathon) the cupboards and hidey-holes are open again. Such an infinite number of entities. It's like a veritable zoo to me.

Adieu, the vixens call...
(more next time)


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Friday, October 18, 2013


Edith knows I'm here. I left word with a trusted 'familiar.' He sent her a message. But I haven't been back to the town house yet. Still walking. You know what I'm like?... a lucid wanderer. Mentioned that term last night, but didn't explain it. Some of you may recall it from earlier epistles, however, I'll elaborate for the benefit of newbies. 

Vampires, werewolves, ghosts and zombies aren't everything. There're other creatures in the forest, my friends... and lucid wanderers are one of the most tragic. I am not sure of their nativity, but I've seen them, so I can tell you what they are.

Picture a normal (or at least rather ordinary) human walking down the street. Well, that's what lucid wanderers do. They walk... boy do they ever. Thing is, they can't stop. For if they do their bodies effervesce into a frothy mass and disappear. One by one the pink, tiny bubbles pop til nothing's left but a filmy, viscous residue on the ground. Even the bones are gone. 

Most night-folk and other adepts feel a spell is involved, or some manner of psycho-kinetic projection. Doctor Franklin thinks harmonics play a part. But he thinks harmonics play a part in everything. The Grand Armonica... his life's work, if you will. You can Google it.

They're eternal pilgrims, one step in front of the other. Eyes front. Mouths closed. If you touch one and maintain contact for more than a fleeting moment or two, you catch it. The magic or the energy, or whatever it is gets you too. 

I don't think they eat like normal mortals, but they do eat, not much, but they do. Sometimes they graze supermarkets late at night, picking up a grape, or a beef jerky, or a juice box. Kids who stock the shelves get to know them. Word gets 'round, especially if they see an infected friend stand still and go all foamy. Not a pretty sight. Occasionally the eyeballs remain intact and bounce down on the ground. The teeth too... blood and gristle around the roots and everything. 

I used to see a girl lucid wanderer move through the streets of Old Philadelphia. This was back in Federalist times. Maybe late Federalist. I don't know. What would you call the years after The War of 1812? She wore one of those long, high waisted gowns like Josephine Bonaparte. Her hair was up in curls. When it was cold she had a cloak. I think it had a hood. Such a pathetic thing she was. So sad. A French baker on Arch Street gave her rolls. He left them in a little covered hamper 'round the back. A vintner gave her wine and I believe cheese and sausage too, although he didn't sell them. And she walked. Now I've never seen one pee, or shit, but I suppose they do. Dim, secluded alleys are so forgiving. And I'm guessing the occasional piece of laundry left out to dry goes missing. Or maybe they have 'familiars' like we do? Yo no se.... Enchanted souls tend to be private creatures. I once saw her wash herself behind a bath house. The matron passed her a white, enamel basin filled with warm, soapy water and a tattered, natural sponge. She quietly sopped up all the water and squeezed it over her body, all the while shuffling from foot to foot. If I have to give you a physical, or scientific explanation, I'd say the cells, the muscle cells, the bone cells, the skin cells of their feet, lucid wanderers I mean, grow and regenerate very rapidly. Otherwise how could they do it? They couldn't. And they micro sleep, a few heartbeats here, a few heartbeats there. What's the purpose of it? Why were they made? Why do they exist? I don't know. There're theories, but I don't know. One version says they began during The Plague, the big one, the Black Death of thirteen forty nine. Almost half the people in Europe died and it happened fast, within days. Children, men, women, old people, all of them gone. Imagine being a two year old left in a house filled with reeking septic corpses. I saw that. That I saw. Flagellants, simpleminded superstitious bastards who thought religion was magic, marched from town to town, chanting prayers, hurling curses and beating themselves with thick, heavy, lead tipped whips, sending bits of flesh, blood and skin flying through the air. And they were all over, spreading the contagion they sought to destroy. You know it was a vampire who rescued me from a burning synagogue during The Crusades. Well, about three hundred, maybe closer to two hundred and fifty years later, I returned the favor, for they lit up such prayer houses all over Europe and threw little children into wells. Old people thought to be witches perished too. They say an alchemist, perhaps more than an alchemist, branded a witch and about to be welded into an 'iron maiden' while still alive, hurled the first 'spell,' .... Pilgrims you are!? Devils you are! May you walk without end til Saint Michael redeems you! - he said..... Well, the archangel still hasn't come. But that's just a story, for most of the 'wanderers' walking today are not devils.

I know I was going to tell you of strange encounters under an arctic moon and hell hounds in the Adirondacks. I know you've been reading 'bout wolf-folk for the passed few weeks, so you know what they are. But I am fatigued. Even vampires experience ennui. So excuse me while I retreat from the world for a few hours and sleep in the dark, cool shadows... 

Come back. I'll tell you more...


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Thursday, October 17, 2013

Tomas, the Vampire Unthinkingly Shredded The Center City Kid's Wallet ... 10/17/13

It's me, Billy channeling this tonight, not one of the disembodied spirits, 'cause they have this big Yahtzee tournament, or something.  That's a major activity in the next world. I don't pretend to understand. Them what passed on got issues.

But let me tell you what happened with Tomas and the Center City kid. Our night-folk hero took him to a rooftop redoubt he had. I think it's up on an old, what do they call them? not a warehouse .... Where the 'yuppies' live.... A LOFT! A LOFT! Yeah, he took him up on top of a loft. Kid was almost dead. Cruisin' down 'the tunnel' and everything. Saw Eleanor Roosevelt. Saw that dead guy from The Rolling Stones. Saw Sir Francis Bacon... Hedy Lamar. Was really getting into it. But Tomas laid him down and dripped a few drops of his ruby elixir (that means his blood) onto the kid's lips.  Guess it tastes like hot, rare steak, or something. 'cause the Center City kid licked it all up. Three heartbeats later WHOOSH! He ain't mostly dead no more. Sits up... starts searching for his wallet. Goes - Shit! Shit! Shit! W-w-where's my fuckin' money!?.... Tomas goes - Is that how you talk?..... Kid says - Who the hell are you? Where am I? What is this?! Where the hell's that Brian guy from The Rolling Stones!? My money! Where's my money!?... Tomas goes - Ai! Dios mio!.... He remembers... He remembers sublimating through one a them bastids down in the alley... And if the bastid got 'liquefied' or pulverized to a gruel-like state, so did the money, 'cause the money was in the wallet and the street-corner roughie-toughie was holdin' it.... Kid sees his face and knows. He goes - What are you? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know.... But he wants to know. Tomas can tell, so he exhales, grins just a little bit and flashes his fangs. Not big, gross, thick ones, like that Dracula poser has in them TV commercials. His are sharp and finely made and discreet.... like what an ocelot would have if it was in a movie and played like a vampire.... Kid jumps and feels his neck. Looks down his shirt. Runs his hands over his arms and legs.... Goes - What'd you do? Did you bite me?! Oh, God, please say 'no.' I can't be no vampire. I got an interview in New York next week..... Tomas goes - Relax, I did not drink from you. And it would take much more than that to make you as I am.... Then he whispers - I saved your life.... Kid goes - Thanks. What'd you do with the money? Am I allowed to ask? Is that OK?..... Tomas looks contrite. He says - Of course it's OK. I destroyed it. I accidentally destroyed it and don't worry. I'll make it up to you.... He thinks for a moment. After all, this is his first night back in town. Hasn't checked in with his 'familiars' (mortal facilitators), seen Edith, or anybody. He can get money. He can always get money. All he has to do is 'cull' some rich, low-life bastid on the street. But he doesn't want to do that. So he takes off his watch (the kid's watch got pulverized too, only he don't realize it yet), a Rolex Submariner with the 'Presidential' bracelet and hands it over. Says - Here take this. You can sell it in the morning. I believe it's worth four thousand dollars, but I may be a bit conservative..... The kid takes it. Not much light up there, but this thing gleams. He hefts it. It's heavy.... Says - Really? You sure?.... Tomas nods.... Kid studies the timepiece and absentmindedly licks his lip, tasting a bit of the blood. He reacts with an almost electrical tingle, but he looks puzzled... Tomas says - That's how I did it. That's how I saved you. You drank from me, not the other way around.... Kid whispers - Wow...

They climb down from there using a fire escape in the back. If he was by himself, Tomas would have sublimated. If you forgot, or don't know what that is, it's this 'thing' vampires do. They 'energize' their bodies. The very molecules move away from each other into an almost vaporous state. In that way they can pass through things... walls... people... air. When they move through living people it cuts them into a trillion bits and they die. Just like happened back there in the alley with that bastid guy. When they sublimate through air it's like flying, only faster.

You got to get used to these things, because the vampires are back now and they got a lot of tricks. 

Tomas takes the kid for coffee. They look a little worse for wear, considering what they been through and all. But the guy in the coffee shop don't say nothin', 'cause he knows Tomas. Don't know all the details, but he knows. Kid gets a scrambled eggs special. Vampire only gets coffee. He likes the smell and can tolerate small amounts of human fare, mostly the liquids.

Vampire says - Are you all right?... Kid stares off into the middle distance and goes - Uh huh..... Tomas says - So, what day do you go to New York? 

Kid shifts his gaze to the pre-dawn traffic outside (Center City is Philadelphia's really very respectable answer to Manhattan) and goes - What?... 

But Tomas knows the drill. Once they see the 'magic' the real world don't mean shit no more....


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Tuesday, October 15, 2013


He was back in the city walking up and down the nighttime streets like a lucid wanderer...seeing... thinking... and feeling. No one knew he was here. Things went on as usual at the town house. Edith bustled about preparing sleeping chambers and fluffing pillows. Sarah wasn't home yet. She was still abroad in the world. But Tomas, also known as Jonathon was.

Now he'd thought a lot during his time away. And he kept coming back to the same thing. The world wasn't ready. Doctor Franklin knew it. The man who gave mankind electricity still thought of us as greasy, swarming cattle. So he retreated to his complex under the old Philadelphia Navy Yard and conjured new toys. Well, Tomas was beyond that. No toys. No gadgets. No gimmicks. Just him, a fit, young 'eighteen' year with thousand year old eyes. 

And he perfected 'the' look. His black, leather bootkins were still there, topped by trim, black jeans. The shirts were simple too... short sleeve t-shirts for summer... long sleeve t-shirts for the cold. Same shade as the jeans. Maybe a black leather jacket for those nights when someone without one would look strange. Did he steal Blackie's act? Come on, you think Blackie was the first? What was Zorro? He was the first 'black knight.' And Tomas, also known as Jonathon was also Spanish too. 

He killed somebody right away. He did it the first night back. Two guys were beating a kid on a dark, little alley off South Street. They were guys from the neighborhood and they hated Center City kids... too artsy... too rich... too (aw, look. what can I say? do you think they need a reason?). So he stepped out of the shadows. One of the guys says - Get lost ass-hole.... But Tomas doesn't move. The second guy smashes his fist right through the kid's nose. He moans and crashes to the concrete. Scraped his face... his chin. Then they turn on Tomas, but he just looks at them with that look he has. You know some of the other night-folk call it his 'Crow' look. You know that movie? I forget who was in it... Bruce Lee, or his son, or somebody. But the eyes... it's all in the eyes. 

First bastid says - What the hell's wrong with you, you creep. Other one sucker punches our slim, trim vampirino right on his ear. Would a busted the eardrum of a normal human. But Tomas don't move. He just stands there and turns and looks.  First bastid kneels down and goes through the kid's pockets. He don't see what's gone on... Takes a wallet... snaps his watch off. Other one makes like he wants to smash him again, but BAM, that fast... Tomas ain't there. Guy goes - Jesus Christ!... looks up and sees him crouched part way up an old brick wall. First bastid looks up too, catches on and goes - Fuck this shit... pockets the wallet and warily backs off. But Tomas does that thing vampires do and whips himself down off the wall in a flash. Then he runs toward the first bastid who throws up his arms and goes - No!... Half a heartbeat later Tomas flickers into a nebulous state and sublimates right through the first son of a bitch, who stands there for a moment, sways a bit and then slides apart into countless shreds that rains down on the ground like gruel. The other one emits a pathetic, nervous laugh, pees hisself  and plops down into the gutter. A nano-second later Tomas instantaneously solidifies, hikes up his jeans, throws the Center City kid over his shoulder and races into the shadows.

I suppose he revived the kid with tiny droplets of his blood, not enough to bring him over... not enough to make a vampire (not nearly enough for that), but just enough to make him whole. And then he was gone.

Now one a the low life guys lived. And the Center City kid lived too, so the story got out. Yeah, I know, some people in town know all about the vampires and everything that happened. But that don't mean they all do. To most Philly people this is a whole new thing.

And so far it ain't got a name...


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