VAMPIRE ALLIES BEGIN TO ASSEMBLE ......... 4/28/13

Jonathon hung suspended in a dark gray void. He occupied space, but felt nothing. Thoughts were nebulous at best. He had no name, nor was he self aware. He existed. Perhaps rocks and snow storms feel this way? 

Tomorrow they'll begin the transfer. His blood, now within the body of the old man, will come back to him. Every particle of his being will grab hold of it and his physical form will be restored. Powers will re-ignite and four hundred thousand dreams shall dance again. That which is now but a papery lantern will shine.

Such is the enchanted recipe necessary for vampiric birth. But this is not a love story, or even one of lust. A violation happens here, unless someone can stop it.

The old billionaire, known as Tobias Maxwell eats soup. Seafood Lorraine, I think it is.... a rich, velvety, shrimp and lobster bisque.  He loves the stuff. And where, before, it would dribble down his trembling chin and onto a loose, flabby paunch, now it stays inside him.... and he says - ahhhh. Even the first step of night-folk transformation has benefits. 

While a mile away, 'Papa's' body sits in the usual place. He stares at the flat screen. Some home restoration program, I think it is. Annie, his vampire descendant, colors on the floor. This is a new one..... The Kardashian Sisters Go To The Czech Republic, I believe. Kim wears a bikini and a fur coat, as she leads the singing in a lively beer hall.

And then he mumbles something. For the first time in months, 'Papa' talks. The words are not important. No one knows what he said. Edith, their Piney woman, seer, friend and housekeeper goes - It's that ugly light fixture what done it (referring to a retro, 'Memphis,' monstrosity on TV). But she's only guessing...... Annie goes - Who the hell cares, you fat, old bitch... as she colors Kim's belly a vivid green..... But Edith isn't listening. She watches 'Papa's' eyes come back to life. He sees something ..... and it's very far away.

Half a billion miles hence the 'diamonds' start to dance. Tiny iridescent lifeforms, somewhat like sea slugs, though also resembling eels, undulate through the Pan Europan Sea. And 'Papa' swims with friends. Stately ray-like beings glide toward the ice-crust roof, there to dine on hanging moss-like gardens. Bio-luminescence lights this cloistered world. Every soul doth shine. Some glow green and others blue. A few pulse red and white. ..... And the ray-king communicates with his spirit guest. He tells 'Papa' things. He tells him of home. But, in truth, 'Papa' knows too. Jonathon needs help and 'Papa' is coming.....

The call goes out on the Human Home World (also known as Earth) too. Mole-folk whisper and congregate. They stream through tunnels toward a rendezvous in the dark. Perhaps Jonathon feels it? Or, maybe, he does not. But that boy has friends. 

Sarah puts down her book. The mortal friend, named Phyllis says - What's wrong?.... But the lonely vampirina doesn't answer. She just pulls herself up out of the old wing chair and walks out of the shop. The small brass bell above the door rings as she departs.

And deep within his leaden tomb, her mate appears to hear.... Jonathon's crepe paper face smiles.
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A NINETY FOUR YEAR OLD BILLIONAIRE SPEAKS ... 4/19/13

I sit here looking at that damn cat and I think... how vividly pink the insides of her ears are. I wonder what blood actually tastes like. Not the little trickles we suck up from rare steak or cut fingers... I mean thick, red rivers of it. But I am not a common slob. Those elevators filled with human life fluid in THE SHINING looked like melted sherbet.... Like ruptured cartons of loganberry sauce meant for the dessert table at a cheap buffet. 

I want quality...smooth firm skin and protein fed goodness. Soon I'm, going to stick him... that Jonathon you all love so much. He will be crucified and pinned in place like beef on a three dimensional shish-kabab. Like Saint Sebastian, or one of those other dreamy eyed, Counter Reformation poster boys.... While my carefully constructed apparatus drains him dry.... Then he will have to bite me, for I'll be filled with it... his crimson elixir, I mean.... 

But should he try to take too much and send me too my death, the roof will retract and he will burn... Sunlight, you know... Oligarchs are witty. We have many tricks.

And my necromancers can see him. They can taste him... right through all that lead. Such talented 'manipulators' they are.... an Inuit shaman.... a Highland Druidess.... the facilitator from a Long Island Weight Watchers' Meeting who discovered her abilities while hunched over an Atlantic City video poker machine. Five royal flushes in a row, don't you know... Even 'The Donald' took note. But I grabbed her first.

Soon they'll roll me into the dining room and feed me savory tid bits.  Alexander Hamilton once dined here, you know. So did Totie Fields. My tastes are so diverse. 

I gaze in the mirror imagining what I'll see after the transformation.... tighter skin... clear eyes, perky, youthful testicles... Tonight I'll have my liposuction. Dangerous for a ninety four year old... but 'billionaire' ninety four is like fifty six to you.

I wonder if my hair will grow back?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha (cough... wheeze... guzzle some pomegranate juice) ha...

Tobias Maxwell has spoken!
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A VAMPIRE PRINCE IN THE LEAD LINED ROOM ......... 4/17/13

Jonathon awakened. His mind cleared and he had absolutely no idea where he was. First of all, it was dark...beyond dark. This was absolute darkness, unseen even in the vastness of space. He carefully moved 'round, using his hands like a blind man. The floor was smooth and cool, so were the walls. No seams. No bolts. No nothing. A cube... He was in a cube, roughly fifteen feet square. And it was made of lead. Escape was futile and he knew it. So he sat down with his back toward a corner, hugged his knees and thought.

Other night-folk, 'younger' ones faced prisons like this. Elferinos and elferinas knew. Many of these pubescent vampires crossed the ocean sealed in cramped, leaden casks, tossed by the currents and lost for decades before (finally) touching shore. Imagine sensing the crushing weight of the abyss just beyond the metal. Luck ones came to rest on their backs, or maybe (second best) on their sides. Some faced years upside down, wedged 'tween a rock and a hard place. A few never escape. 

But the 'elf' folk have tools. There are things they can do. Magical thoughts envelope pathetically trapped beings in clouds of 'reality.' Other times and other places congeal 'round the victims like mold on a berry, til they see better things and taste salty blood. And in this way time passes. Occasionally friendly whales nudge them on their way. The night-folk have a treaty with the princes of the sea going back to the days and nights of Lemuria. Or was it Mu? Indeed, some true vampires cross the sea on cetacean steeds. But that's a whole other story.

Jonathon cried. At least his tears were salty. And after a time, he too had visions... of plant filled courtyards and tinkling fountains.... of poetic troubadours and well formed horses. He was home, safe, among the sunny hills of Old Al-Andaluz, surrounded by the poetry of classical Arabic, Aramaic and liturgical Hebrew. Then he took up the oud and he played. How sweet the Berber song.

But what would he do when the moon came (his time to feed)? How would he find food then?

A few miles away, in the town house, Edith told the others she 'felt' him. And the twenty eight thousand year old (though resembling a thirty two or thirty three year old Richard Gere) being known as 'Papa,' smiled. For him, at this time, that was a lot.

Yet other beings 'felt' him too... and they were much nearer. The ninety four year old sickly billionaire sat staring at the dense, gray wall. Then he raised a palsied hand and a functionary wheeled him closer, so he could reach out and feel the cool, unyielding surface. He thought of the treasure within. Vampire blood does many things. It can heal wounds, cure melancholia and confer immortality. And the old man, known as Tobias Maxwell savored each sweet possibility.

While sealed within his six sided shell, the vampire, known as Jonathon went riding.... 'Drinkers of The Wind,' they called them..... Horses of the desert.

And the young, mortal Andalusian aristocrat rode for miles.....
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