Thursday, November 6, 2014

not part of our pixilated paranormal tale, but too good to pass up ... 11/6/14 ... David Letterman - Darlene Love "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" 2013

Tomas left the little boy and girl in a velvet lined lacquered box in the library. The lid didn't fit right and wouldn't close tight, so they'd get air. He threw in a few supplies from the dollhouse kitchen too...a  couple bottles of sparkling water... thimble filled with bacon shavings and tiny, chocolate chip sized, round loaves of pumpernickel bread.. Then he pushed the box behind a stack of books. They'd be alright, since the table was wedged in a corner hard by an ugly chair. Nobody would sit there.

Then he sublimated down to the cellar just in time to see the kitchen girl and two footman slide out the large tray and begin gathering what to them were miniature humans. The huge, civilized, dog things carefully plucked naked people up from the damp mushroom bed (careful not to crush any) and dropped them into a cigar box sized, wooden container,

perhaps eighty in all.  Considering what they'd just seen the tiny vampires do, some of them didn't want to go. Now they had an alternative. Now there was something else. Before, it was just live-graze-mate-reproduce-get taken to the glass tank in the kitchen-and die a horrible death. But now, even though they did not have a word for it, they could be vampires... little tiny, clueless, mean ass, vampires. At least that was something. So they squirmed and kicked and bit. Some were dropped to their deaths on the hard packed dirt below. A few survived, after a fashion, but the red, crab things quickly shredded them to bits. One or two fell into the folds of the kitchen 'girl's' skirts and carefully lowered themselves down, disappearing under the bottom of the lowest tray. Would the crab things find them? Who knows? But for now they were free. And some (the biters mostly) got crushed between rough, canine, paw-like fingers...  Ribs caved first... Abdominal organs spurted out through ruptured testicular sacs in the males and grotesquely swollen pudenda in the females. Thousands of shrimp sized people in the other stacked trays (fifteen in all) huddled together in the dirt. Next time it might be their turn.

But Polidori was in the box and the brand new vampire boy was too.

Then the footman slid the large rough, wood tray back in place, never a smooth procedure. When they had to jamb it in a few people bounced over the side and smacked down on the dirt. But they were only the second or third tier off the ground, so the fall to them equaled approximately two stories. Were there dislocations? Yes. Blunt trauma injuries, scrapes, fractures too. But they didn't suffer long. Crabs got them.

Tomas saw it all. Then, in near total darkness he climbed the old, splintered steps, squeezed under the door and entered the cold, shadowy kitchen. There was no moonlight. But white, midnight clouds reflected a bit of weak illumination in through the large, multi-pane windows. The glass tank was up there. From his angle he could just barely see it. But he could smell the humans and the two vampires inside. Should he sublimate? He did manage to make it through the huge, canine skull. But powers vacillate and he still had to get through the thick glass. If it was crystal, if there was lead in it that would be impossible. Vampires can't pass through lead. But the glass in the tank had a green tint. Crystal is usually clear... utterly clear.... 'crystal' clear. Well, he'd know soon enough.

The staff would be back to start preparing soon.... Bake bread...maybe a few pies and cakes what with the funeral luncheon and all. He had to be ready by then. Make a few more vampires. Kill a few more of the giant canines. Scare them. Terrify them. Make them think all humans had the power now. God knows what would happen then.

But at least it would be over. One way or another it would stop. The people would be free.

What came after was something else...

It had to work. It had to. And the children in the lacquered box had to be safe.

Tomas cried. He just wanted to go home. But we all want a lot of things and most times they never happen...

<more next time>


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