A HAREM?

It is I, Zebulon. did you hear my words coming out of the Charlie Sheen mouth? You knew that 'tiger's blood' line was mine. I know you did. But I am back. I do not want that boy of the Pacific Coast to die. And besides, I grew tired of him. So I am here now, listening in, making things happen and talking threw the fingers of that wilkravitz person. Where are we? Oh, yes, we are in the underground, alchemy center of Doctor Franklin and the mysterious, black suited men. Jonathon/Tomas is there along with other, shall we say, petrified members of the family. That's where we are now, in a great chamber housing some kind of huge sound machine. The Great Armonica, they all call it. One of the little cherubs lies submerged in a cask of water. The old scientist activated the machinery. Jonathon/Tomas stands off to the side, with his arm around the young doctorix. They put on some type of sound buffers. Well, the humans do. My trim, 'young' Spanish life-eater doesn't need them. The gigantic crystal discs begin to spin and hum. Actually, the sound is quite nice, like an angels' chorus. Maybe not a top level angels' chorus (believe me, I have heard the best) yet still extremely pleasant. Barely visible rings of sounnd spread out in all directions. The water (if it is water) starts to vibrate. Then it changes color, still transparent, but with a dazzling, opalescent hue. The doctor carefully goes over and looks down into the cask. He drops in a few pellets. The others draw near too. They all wait. The cherub changes. It's gray, rough, concrete-like surface slowly returns to a more 'human' appearance. The eyes open. Jonathon/Tomas gasps. They can see the green color of the eyes. They tiny lips smile. A chubby arm reaches up to them. Jonathon/Tomas wipes a tear from his eye. It's working. It's working. ....And then it stops. The machine slowly winds down. The 'air' returns to normal. And the little one in the water filled cask returns to stone. The doctorix leaned into Jonathon/Tomas and cried. Doctor Franklin said - That was close. That was close........Some attendants came in and carted the little cherub away. Our vampire and his doctorix wandered off to feed the old mermaid, the sea hag, as they called her. This time she got a bucket of squid. She liked squid. Maybe it was the raw slimy texture, but she loved it. Sucked it right down like spaghetti. The two lovey-doveys stripped off their clothes and dove in with her. The water was kept fairly sterile, so the human did not have any problem. The vampire did not have to worry about anything. Jonathon/Tomas liked to swim in pools. His wealthy uncle had one back in Old Granada. I think there was one in the Seville house as well. So he and his pleasure friend traced lazy paths through the water. The sea hag smiled and clapped her hands. Then she started swimming around them, herding them ever closer together, until they touched. That's all it took. They retreated to the shallows and began exploring each others bodies. Their 'hostess' sucked up the last of the squid before slipping into a secluded, underwater, fiberglass lair. She watched them make love. She watched them do it. And she londed for the company of others of her kind. .......... They sat on the edge of the pool when they were satisfied. They kissed. They caressed. It was warm in there, so they waited for the moisture to drip from their bodies. The doctorix spoke. But Jonathon/Tomas knew what she'd say. She wanted the blood. She hungered for it.....And he was losing the strength to say no. How long would this go on? Was she sincere, or were others pushing her toward this decision?......They did want more vampires around here. And what could be better than a domestic one, a controlible one, one of their own?.........What would Sarah think?.......Could he do it? Should he do it?.....How would he handle a harem?

'LIFE' IS STRANGE

We sat in  our quarters under the museum, Papa in his big, leather chair, Annie, down on the rug playing with her hercules beetles and Me at the desk taking it all down. Papa was thinking. He wanted to assault the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau under the former shipyard. But he did not want to stage any elaborate stunts. No more 'miracles.' If  he's learned anything over the ages, it is anonimity. Keep a low profile. Sure it was all right to claim center stage during the 'shaman' era. But nobody worshipped vampires anynore. They actually did not worship them back in Bedrock either. All they wanted was a middleman, somebody to carry prayers up to the spirits and pull down the occasional miracle or two. Well, maybe the vampires have simply been replaced by other practioners? But I do not judge. I can see what he sees. Not that I possess any special abilities. He just wants me too. It's like he needs  someone to talk to, someone to bounce things around with. And this twenty eight thousand year old being is bouncing things around with me, wilkravitz. And I don't even un derstand the workings of the Star ship Enterprize and that's the fictional Star ship Enterprize. He means to form a family. I know that. He wants Jonathon back, only he prefers to call him Tomas. Who cares. Sarah and the others? They'll probably be rejuvenated too. I think Annie is a little nervous though. He doesn't like her. She's bad. She's a real bad seed. And he wants to head a 'good' family. You know what that means. It's how Jonathon/Tomas ran things when they only 'culled' the evil doers and all that. So that part will be the same, only there's gonna be a new sherriff in town. You think Jonathon/Tomas would mind? I don't. He doesn't care about that stuff. Sarah is too new to understand much about it. And the elves and cherubs  exist in a universe free of such hierarchies......So, we'll see...... Meanwhile, Jonathon has become quite close to the one he calls 'the doctorix.' They live with each other. Doctor Franklin is the big daddy and they're his married children. OK, so the son-in-law is a bit exotic, but the old man likes that kind of stuff. You should see them leaning over the rail at the mermaid's pool, feeding her chunks of herring, watching her chortle with delight as she slurps them down. Then sometimes they sneak in to the Big Room and play with The Great Armonica. Franklin knows. I guess he figures there's only so much they can do with what they know. And he aint giving away any of the big secrets. So they bring back a little, chicken-like dinosaur. It's not as if the machine hasn't done that before. And one time they conjured up Marie Antoinette's severed head (about 1.2 seconds after the fatal cut). She even winked at 'em a couple times. When the old man found out he threw her into the wood chipper, the former queen, I mean. That must have been hard on him, 'cause they were buddies back in the day......I think the doctorix is thinkin 'bout 'jumpin over.' She got the vampire heebie-geebies real bad. And she willing to do all these little special tricks for him. Fancy stuff, real tickly stuff she picked up when she was studying over seas. He knows. But he don't want to do it. What would Sarah say IF they get her back. Look, as far as he knows, it is not a sure thing.....But to Papa it is.......Oh, we shall see...We shall see...I gotta go. Papa wants me to pick him up some magazines. You can imagine what he likes, classy porn and world affairs....A regular Bill Clinton he is......See ya later.

TALES OF TORTURE

This is the post I told you about. It's me, wilkravitz. I'm back from the Jersey Pines. Edith the 'Pow Wow' woman said it was all right to come back to the city. She said that things were starting to settle down. I don't know where Zebulon is. Usually I channel things through him. I don't know who was doing the typing when I wasn't here. What's yet another magical mystery around here? Right? Although some of the Red Paint folks, good seers in their own right, think he's hovering over the Pacific Coast, putting words in Charlie Sheen's mouth. Zebulon thinks that kind of thing is funny. Listen to the words. Pay attention to the interviews. You'll recognize the cadence and the phraseology....Put Papa picked me up real fast. He found me on the street and took me back here. The museum, I'm talking about. My room is all right. But that stringy haired, little vampire brat is torture. She already killed one guard. One of the familiars, I mean. He just could not keep up with her and he had a heart attack. She laughed. Annie thought that was real funny. Papa was mad, real mad. Said he was gonna pour wet cement down her throat and let it harden. Vampire kids hate that, especially the bad ones. I guess they have some experience with it. But he treats me all right. Yeah, sure, I'm scared of him. He's got a lot of powers. No one can tell what he might do. What? He promised to tell you some sickening stories from the old days? I see him getting comfortable. He's sitting in his leather chair. Look at him. He's thinking. Now he's staring at me. God I hate when he does that. It's a signal. It means empty my mind and get ready.....OK, here goes.......There was one king. I believe he ruled back before the great flood from a vast palace complex somewhere along the Ganges River. Now people were well versed in metallurgy back then and made a very fine, strong alloy of stainless steel. This king used  to build little rooms of it. The walls were one  cubit thick. The length about seven cubits. The width about the same. I think the ceiling was high., too high for a man to reach, even if he jumped. There was a whole series of these rooms and they were buried in a row deep under ground. They said the depth was about one hundred cubits. But I do not remember. A prisoner, some poor soul, would be placed into each one. There was a drain in a corner of the floor. And when each room was 'taken' the roof would be welded into place. A thin pipe lead up to the surface. Once a day, some small water skins and food packets would be slid down. In this way prisoners could be kept alive for years. The drain was wide enough to handle the water skins and the wrappings from the food packets,  so trash was not a problem. And even if it was, who cared. Imagine the lives of those so encased. Buried deep within the earth. Sealed into darkness. Cut off from sound and sight, with only the smooth, cool walls for comfort. From time to time, small tympanic listening devices would be silently lowered down the pipe. They were like primitive stethoscopes. And they worked quite well. Some prisoners prayed. Others sang songs or had long, drawn out conversations with family and friends. There were those who made no sounds at all. Occasionally someone would refrain from eating. They'd try to starve to death. But instinct soon took over, foiling that plan. Courtiers of the  king swore that one man survived in this manner for seventy nine years, dying at one hundred years of age. What was his crime? Nothing. No, really it was nothing. He was in the way. Someone at court wanted his land. The holding was not great, a small plot he'd inherited from his father. But a well placed, high born party had plans for it ( I think they put in a reflecting pool) and so the poor young man was buried alive.....Such was the world back then....And not only then, for there have been worse tortures nearer to your own time.....I do not feel like communicating anymore right now...It is over...Maybe on another night, I will rell you more........

AND NOW TODAY

So I returned to my village upon the lake, traveling by moonlight and hiding from the sky fire during the day. My people. What would I tell them? They expected an experienced life-eater, or at least the possibility of one. And I had failed. Oh, the woman, the older one, Renate (yes, she told me her name) was still abroad in the world. I did not know where she was. At times I'd get an inkling. Still, I did not know how to interpret those things. So she was completely lost to me. At least back then, during the early days she was. I came into the village late one autumn night. The people were seated 'round the communal hearth sharing new experiences and old stories. I stood back in the shadow of a dwelling and listened to the voices of my clan. I remembered how much I'd missed them. Then I stepped out into the firelight. They looked up. They smiled. People jumped up to embrace me. Someone found a stool and shoved  it under me. I sat down. Children were called. Old folks shuffled out from dwellings. All eyes were upon me, waiting for my tale. Did I bring one? Did I get one? Where is the new shaman? What miracles can they do? And then they waited as I composed my thoughts. Yes, I brought back a life-eater. There was a collective exhalation in response. They were relieved. And the life-eater, the shaman is here with us right now....People asked - Where is this person? We cannot see them. Are they hiding in the ether?.... No, I said. They are right here.....And then I performed one of the first feats I'd discovered. I sublimated my hand through a beer bowl placed before me. All were silent. All were thinking. Some actually inched away from me. They could accept such enchantment in an outsider, but not in one of their own, not in a contemporary. So I rose  to my feet and addressed them. I said - I am the new shaman. I am a life-eater now, created by one most venerable and knowing. And I shall guard our lives from this day forth. A few of them, mostly the spiritual older women, came up to embrace me. They cried and I cried. Heads nodded. Drums and pipes appeared. Songs were sung. A bit later, when I sensed the coming of the dawn, I told them I would retreat to a small, winding cave near the shore, for daylight was my time to rest and meet with the spirits. Heads bobbed in understanding. And they formed a column behind me, singing softly as I went to my new sacred home...........Now some night I will tell you of events long ago. Of times spent in royal courts and in the spell chambers of long dead alchemists. But not tonight. For I am lonely. I acted in haist. And now I must go about rebuilding a family. So I wander 'round this one-time shipyard, listening through walls and waiting for a chance to do what I must do.......Maybe later, If I am in the mood, I will tell you fearsome tales of killings and tortures in the past.... There, I knew you'd like that.......

METHODS OF EXECUTION

She who made me stayed around for a few nights. But one dusk, she was gone. And I was all alone. What could I do. Where could I go? I went home. They wanted a life-eater and now they had one. Granted, I was not too experienced. Yet I grew into my powers by the hour. What did I do with the two left in the pit? What did I do with the two remaining people? I let them go. I helped them out. They thanked me and thanked me. They blessed me with prayers both old and new. I caught a few birds for them. Some type of primative, wild chicken, I think it was. And I even helped them roast it. They relaxed. You could see that they were relaxed. We talked and joked. We listened to the crickets. They told me they'd be heading back to their people in the morning. I told them I'd be starting home to mine soon too. And then they fell asleep, right there, completely exposed on the grass. I went back into the cave and put on my things. I stuffed a few mementos into a pouch. I don't know what. Just things to help me remember my transformation. It's odd, you'd think such things would be important to me. But I couldn't even tell you what they were. Probably little carvings or something. When I walked back to the 'picnic' spot, the two humans were still sleeping, bathed in the dim amber glow of the small fire. I studied them. What cunning live forms these humans were. Look at that. I'd already forgotten that I was once one of them. How fine their features are. Look at the hair, like mink, like silk. How....How.....appetizing. And then I did it. I did it fast. I did not want the other one to wake up. Oh! the blood tasted good! Now I know it's just as much the taking of the life as the drinking of the blood that sustains us. But I did not know that then. It was rich and yeasty and full of flavor. Did you ever tuck into an especially delicious piece of rare prime rib? You know the kind I mean. The juices run all salty and red. Well this was like that, only fresher. I suppose, technically, it is an act of cannibalism. True, I say I'm not a human, but look at me. What am I shaped like, a squid? Yet I felt no guilt, but only satisfaction. She was dead. I dragged her away behind a rock, so he wouldn't be bothered by the blue fire. Then I kicked him a little with my foot. He was groggy and asked about the other. He said - Where is she?......I said - I'm sorry, but an animal got her...... Though I could see by the look in his eyes that he knew. He was quiet. I said - Were you close to that one?.....He shook his head and mumbled - No, same clan. I have known of her since we were children, but no, we were not close........But he was a liar. I could feel in. And I simply turned away from him and started off on my journey..........I was dead to my old existence. I was executed. That was then and this was now......though I never expected the 'now' would last so long.

PAPA'S FIRST NIGHT

We layed there, staring down into the pit. My eyes, my new eyes saw everything. It was still dark, yet secret nuggets of ambient light were everywhere. The minerals in the cave wall sparkled. The undulations in the natural rock threw shadows. I know the mortal people could not see. Their eyes saw as dead eyes. But I was different. And I saw everything. The woman, the life-eater who created me whispered. She spoke and said - Pick one. which will it be? Trust your inner spirit. You will know.... And I did know. Three mortal humans, all naked, cowered together against the far side of the pit. They could not see or hear us. And I'm sure our scent did not make any difference, because our scent was all over. But some other means of detection told them. They knew. Two were female. One,obviously, was male. The smaller female was mine. She was the one. Tonight she would die.  She who created me followed my gaze and said - Her?.... I nodded.....She continued - I thought so. You have a good eye for the evil doer you do. Poisoned her mate, that one did. And a good man too. Wanted a place in the headman's household. Not from here, naturally. My folks are all dead. But from close enough. I know her...... What do I do now? - I quietly asked.....You just leap down there and do it. Take her. Use your teeth. Are they 'in' yet? The wolf teeth, the cat teeth, the fangs I mean?.......I felt with my tongue and they were. I nodded and swallowed.......She whispered - Then do it.....I raised myself to a push-up position, leaned forward and lept. It was natural. It was easy for me. Those that do not know compare us to bats. But we are not like bats. We are much more like cats. And the humans screamed and clambered to get out. But the pit was deep, at least fourteen cubits. They had no hope. I snaked in among them and snatched the little one away. And when the other two realized they were 'safe' they collapsed onto the floor, heaving and clutching each other. The little one cried. She said - No, please. No, Please.....But I struck her across the face and yelled - That was your mate's hand you felt! And these teeth are the teeth of his ancestors!...... She spit. She cried. She scratched.She peed. But what could she do? Nothing. I shook her till she was senseless. And then I did it. I broke the skin and drank up her life. She whimpered a bit. But that was all. I can only imagine what the other humans thought. They could not see anything. It was all just sight, smell and commotion to them. Yet they sat there completely motionless and silent. When the mate killer fell to the ground, she ignited into a cold blue flame. I screamed. My creator shouted - Stop that! The 'righteous flame' cannot hurt you! Put your hand in it! Do it!......I did. And I was unburned. I drew my hand back and studied it. There was no mark upon it. The other two could see now. And they began to cry. The male uttered prayers with words I did not know. The female sobbed. My maker said - Come out from there. Jump! Grab the sides! It will be easy for you.......And it was. She grabbed me and kissed me. Then she bagan to cry. But she dried her tears with the back of her hand and said - Come with me....She lead me to a part of the cavern I had not seen before. A small water fall cascaded out from the rocks, falling down into a warm pool. It was a natural shower bath eminating from some hot spring. She said - Step into the holy waters and bathe.....I did. That's when my skin began to peel from my body. And the warm, mineral rich water helped wash it away......When I was done we walked out into the starlight and made love on the cool, fresh grass.......I was a vampire...though it would be thousands of years till I heard that word....But I was a vampire....And a vampire I remain.....

A STRANGE AND WONDROUS KILLING

We were in the rough tunnel. The large female grabbed the torch and dashed it to the floor. Then she stomped it out , plunging us into darkness. I stood there. What could I do? What could I say. I new she was different. Her scent was different. And even to this day, I can't say how. I think the scent is unique to all of us. Vampires, I mean. But finally she spoke. Her voice was low and smoky. Her words were shaped differently, what you today would call an accent. Yet imagine living in a time when every few bands of people spoke completely different words. Still she managed to produce sounds familiar to me. Now I know she was reading my mind. More than reading it. She was melding with it. And she told me not to be afraid. She said - You will leave here as whole as when you entered. I understand that now. And I see the humor in it. But what could I do? I was afraid to even breathe. Her hand caressed my neck. I shuddered. She laughed and said - Are you not too big for that? Come, turn around. Go ahead. It will be all right. Turn around. Do it.....So I did. Her hand softly rested on my shoulder. And we penetrated deep into the blackness. We passed back through the chapel. I could smell it. I could smell the ocher and the pigments and the colors. Then we snaked through the passageway leading to a larger chamber, the one I glimpsed before. It was cooler in here and that seemed to relax me. Now I could sense things in her mind. At least that's how I interpreted it back then. I knew we were coming up to a large pit. Part of me thought she'd throw me in, but she did not. And we carefully made our way 'round this unseen danger. Yet others were not so lucky. There were people down there, maybe three of them. They were too scared to breathe. I could feel their heartbeats. The sound seemed to echo from the walls. She laughed, but this time it was not a pleasant sound. Annd we went on , entering a secluded den. She pushed me down onto a pile of furs. They were new and fresh. I could smell that even with my human senses. I heard her rumaging around. All I could think of was her nakedness. She was as bare as the gnomes. I mean the Neanderthals. When she struck the flint and lit the little fat bowls, I saw her. She was beautiful, tall and lean,  similar to what the Hellenes would have called a 'Diana.' But perhaps that's who she was? Then she layed down next to me and began to untangle the knotted thongs that secured the skins on my body. I did not say a word. I did not have to. She knew me and I knew her. When all the skins were gone she inspected my hunt marks, what we now call scars. And she asked me about them. I told her of sturgeon hunts upon the lake and struggles with the great auroch out on the plain. But she did not need the words. I think she just asked me to hear my voice. Her hair was long and loose and dark like ravens' wings. Her fingers light and sensative. I asked her about her life. But she said that her life was lived long ago and that she did not remember. She kissed me. I kissed her back. Her mouth had a salty tang, but more than a salty tang. Then I remembered I was with a life-eater, a shaman, a doer of miracles. And I let her work a miracle on me. We came together. We satisfied each other. And I almost passed out from the pleasure of it. Then we did the same  a second time and laid there like wolf  cubs after nursing. Finally I found my voice. I spoke. I told her of my purpose. I told her why I was sent. I asked her. I said - Will you return with me to the place of my people  and stand between us and the spirits?......She was quiet. I could feel her mind work....She said - Do you not think that I have memories of this place? They were my children. I was their mother....I said - Then you can be my people's mother now......But I saw that she was crying. I saw the tears and I kissed them away. They tasted of blood. I began to beg again. She put her finger to my lips and silenced me......No, she said. I will not go back with you. Not in the way you imagine. But your people will have their shaman. They will have their life-eater. And he will be a more meaningful force in their lives than I ever could...... It was then that I understood......I said - Do you plan to spill the magic over me?.......She whispered - Yes.....And her sharp, little, cunning teeth began to do their work.....A bite to the neck.....A tiny drink.....A nip at the groin....A little more.....In this way she drew off enough blood  and brought me to the brink (in more ways than one). My eyes began to flutter. the small, flickering orange lights danced 'round like silent bees.....She kissed me and held me  as a pieta. She whispered in my ear - No, no, no. You shall not expire. I will not let that happen..... Then she ran a nail along a generous nipple and blood began to flow. Not a lot. Nothing gory. Just enough. So she pulled me up and gave me life to drink, the very life she'd drained away from others. And after a while, I was restored, not the way I was. But this felt even better......It was then I began to hear the others moan.  I crawled to the pit  and hung my head down, taking in their rich, intoxicating scent. She came up and layed down beside me. We both began to purr.....And the first step on the ternal road stretched before me. I was the first to die that night. But I would not be the last..................