Thursday, September 25, 2014

Philip Glass - The Kiss (HD) ... como suenos de vampiros locos... Tomas in THE CITY... 9/26/14





They assembled in an old auditorium. I believe it was once  the Theater of The Living Arts, on South Street, where they used to have midnight showings of cult films, like Rocky Horror. But 'Apres Le Deluge,' with the death of civilization and all, the place was definitely not what it was. Though it retained a certain tattered ambiance, like a ruined manor house in Dickens. 



There was a stake on the stage... a thick, tall, upright log, minus the bed of kindling usually found 'round the base, since an open flame in these surroundings was a no-no. Though a ritual of death would take place just the same.  And the witnesses quietly mumbled to each other waiting for it to start.



Tomas slid in, taking a seat near the back. Just another almost-post-apocalyptic hipster abroad in the town. His hair was long, black and wavy and the requisite fine, soft, black, leather bootkins were also in evidence. The man in black was back. And in this second body, gleaned from a twenty eight year old victim, he had a certain worldly air missing from the eighteen year old original. But everything else was the same. They really searched hard for a duplicate.



The lights, already low, grey and smoky, fluttered and dimmed. Everyone stopped talking, a monotone congregation (black was the new black) waiting for the spectacle to begin..... 



Seconds later, a chamber ensemble in the pit began to play... something by Philip Glass. I believe we have an illustrative video up above. Then they brought her out, a naked, young woman. How white she looked in the pin lights from above, an alabaster statue with long, dark, glossy hair. I believe she was drugged. 'Snake bite,' they called it. Her attendants, dressed as nuns, or some type of female, medieval pilgrims, bound her to the rough, wood pillar with grey duct tape. Then they bowed their heads and hurried off. That's when the real fun began. 



I don't know where they got them. Philadelphia's 'cherubs' were never like that. Benign, innocent things they were. But these were different, twisted, vampire babies, with keen, sharp appetites and dark shining eyes.  They flew onto stage, darting about like insects. Beautiful things, resembling Renaissance angels, or juvenile godlings. 



The naked girl flinched. She knew their purpose. Warlords and street bosses had used them before. Brought in from Europe, people said, or from remote fincas along the Amazon. How feral and determined they were, armed with sharp-tipped, whip-like tongues, since at the time of their transformation they were much too young for teeth. Like hornets they were, diving in, taking a drink and zipping off, only to circle back and do it again. The girl screamed. An eye was gone... an ear... a nipple. She oozed and dripped blood like a fountain. With each pass the pace quickened. She writhed and strained against her bindings. A few in the audience groaned in sympathy, but only a few.  Tomas watched, transfixed by it all. Soon bone began to appear... on the knees... the scalp... the clavicles. Not that the tiny vampirinas craved flesh, but they had to rip through it to free the blood.And the boards became covered in gore and meat. Some sat with eyes closed, listening to the music.



Tomas watched til just before the end. He left when the ribs were exposed, returning to the street in order to search out his own food. Gone the reverent rationalizations of his former self. Now he was insane, if that's even the right word. Perhaps vampire nature is hard to fight? Perhaps after all those years it just asserts itself? 



He killed two victims before midnight. What did they mean to him? Such transient, short lived creatures they were. My God, in five hundred years even their distant descendants would be gone. Like flash paper they were.



After midnight he killed some more.



Marianne, the pubescent, elferina, saw him. She saw him take a victim in a narrow, alley-like thoroughfare in Queen's Village. And she watched his blank expression in the glow from the cool, blue flames, as the corpse he'd just drained disappeared.



Then she silently approached and put her hand on his shoulder. He turned. She smiled. Tomas smiled too.



But these were evil smiles, for these were evil times.



She led him 'round the corner and all was quiet.



When the flames were gone some crows came down to pick at all the scraps.



<more next time>



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