Thursday, June 18, 2015

TALES OF A VAMPIRE ABATTOIR ..6/18/15

Why do you feel guilty? - the silver haired Lucid Wanderer woman said.
Jonathon did not answer. He just sat there and stared at the people going by. He likes casino coffee shops and visits them whenever he's in Atlantic City. .. 
The Lucid Wanderer followed his gaze. --- What do you owe them? - she said. I don't mean on a micro level. I don't mean person to person, but as a whole... as a herd.  And don't talk to me about 'your vows.' Mortals have made vows for ages and the world never gets better. Maybe there're islands here and there, but just here and there. Imagine if you killed three a night... No credit.. No, what should I say, publicity? Just clean, hot kills. If you don't want to drink their blood, don't drink their blood. You didn't do it the other night. But vampires have powers. Murder comes natural to your kind. God's stilettos, so to speak. (eyes crowd) I bet they think that word means shoes....... It seems our Lucid Wanderer lady is a bit of a misanthrope.

Jonathon inhales the vapors rising from his exotic brew. Night-folk love rich aromas. Then he says - Where were you during The Renaissance?.....
Which Renaissance? - she says. There was an Islamic Renaissance around Samarkand and Tashkent, you know and Southeast Asia had quite a spell during... well, I forget what dynasty, but you know what I mean. You see, I haven't always been a 'westerner,' but you have....

Is that supposed to diminish me? - asks the vampire.
I don't know - says the lady. Consider it just another observation....

He nods..... She asks - Well, where were you?
I covered the waterfront, so to speak. The 'western world' was quite varied- he says.

No no no, don't go all scholastic on me. Tell me what you did. Who did you kill? Who did you not kill. And was it fun?

He studies her and says - You're going to die soon, aren't you.

She shrugs...

A human phoenix, that's what you are...

That's what they call Lucid Wanderers in China. Look, indulge me. Tell me some good stuff before I go (he gives her a look). Well, before I move on....

The vampire takes a teeny tiny sip of coffee. That much he can tolerate. Then he goes - I once hung a victim by his ankles, legs about two feet apart, and sawed my way through from groin to skull, straight down the vertebrae. I think they have thirty six, you know.....

When did he die? I assume it was a 'he' - she says..... 

They live as long as the heart and lungs continue functioning. No, maybe two or three minutes after that...

Do they thrash and scream a lot? They must...

Not so much. (he gestures) The wrists are shackled to the floor...

And they're naked?...

Of course they're naked. Half the people in The Renaissance were naked torture victims and the other half waited their turn....

She stifles a laugh and says - See, that's what I meant. Your 'fun' side. I want to see your fun side. What about blood orgies? Ever have any blood orgies?

How many is an orgy? - he asks.....

When you lose count - says the woman known as Boo-Kah-Lay-Nah. It talks a village to nourish a vampire... and she laughs...

Jonathon laughs too. They have huge stone basins, maybe thirty five feet across and fifteen feet deep. There's a drain in the middle. Two or three vampires go in.....

Are they naked? - she asks....

Well, considering what's coming, they'd have to be. This is like in a dungeon.... torch light... grease stained walls. Witnesses file in, dressed in black, beaded, Renaissance finery... faces white with chalk... hair blackened... lips all gray... eyes too. Then dungeon masters open a portal one gallery down and throw in the victims. Peeled like grapes they were. Oh, they greased the surface of the bowl to make them slide. A regular abattoir  it was. In fact, that was the name for it. Go right for the throat, we did... or the groin, or any other pressure point. Did you ever hear of nineteenth century rat pits, where they'd put a few terriers in a pen filled with rats and sporting types placed bets in how many rats each dog would kill? Same with us... And for a while, I was blue ribbon champ of Britain and The Low Countries....

I'm impressed - said the Lucid Wanderer...

But Jonathon, usually a moral restrained chap, was quite aroused by that confession and distracted by a plump, young thing busy with a creamy latte...

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