Wednesday, November 20, 2013

VAMPIRE VERSUS DEMONIO NECROFAGO... LIFE EATER versus DEATH EATER... 11/20/13

And the 'espiridion' froze. For to Tomas it was but a 'little spirit' in no way equal to him. This twisted demonic cannibal is anathema to everything El Mundo Vampirido stands for. But of course you know I speak of the 'noble' breed. 'Noxious' vampires will do anything and 'eat' anyone. And our Sephardic 'grandee' hates them too. So proud these ancient Spaniards are. A millennium spent wandering other realms cannot change that.

But the creature known as Johnny Jump Up was elusive and hard to pin down... less a physical being, more an extremely strong and focused ghost able to manipulate matter with exacting certainty... thus the teeth... thus the claws... thus the strength. He eats because he wills himself to eat. Physical hunger has nothing to do with it. Like a hologram with substance he is. And he smiled when Tomas bit his ear. For no sooner did the vampire loose his grip then the wound disappeared. How can one vanquish smoke?

It went on like that for a bit. They tumbled down to the floor, gouging and biting... lunge and parry... lunge and parry.  Tomas lost an eye, sucked out by his ghostly adversary. Ghouls love that trick. Severing optic nerves is a big thing to them... a treat... a signature move. And Tomas, ever cognizant of his white-hot, throbbing eye (or what was left of it) and an almost testicular, excruciating pain, tore out a nice big chunk of ghoulish loin. But there was no blood in it, for once ripped from the fiend it quivered for an instant, then flickered before dissipating into nothingness. Demonios necrofago can do that. All spiritual entities can. The apparent solidity of their form but an illusion.... though a very 'real' and strong one....

Tomas sprawled on the old, wooden floor amidst shattered doll houses and smashed model planes. A few conventional ghosts, child ghosts, watched from the darkest shadows, not knowing what to make of it all, as the ghoul just stood there and grinned, revealing a rictus of small, silver, shark-like teeth . Tiny, fat maggots crawled over his black serge suit, but they were illusions too.... and how do you kill a dream?

Perhaps a heartbeat later the Johnny Jump Up thing crouched down and whispered - Stand clear of me, 'tarantula' (a ghoulish slur). Then he coldly studied the stricken vampire, before leaning in to bite off a cheek. 'Espiridion' indeed... Vampires can be so presumptuous... so vain... and so wrong.

But before our fine, 'young' vampirino suffered further harm a phantom breeze moved through the space... a shifting of the ether if you will, accompanied by the salty tang of ozone... Then a soft voice said - Who troubles my offspring?... as a figure bearing a strong resemblance to a thirty threeish Richard Gere, though dressed in clothes from I don't know where condensed out of the darkness...

And Tomas mouthed the word 'Papa,' before lapsing into the vampire equivalent of unconsciousness...

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2 comments:

John L. Harmon said...

Johnny Jump Up gives me a cold hard case of the willies. Love it!!!!

Anonymous said...

to be honest, i'm not into this vampire thing...but i must say this is very original and well written.~jackie~ (fumanchucat)