A SAD LITTLE VAMPIRINA IN LUXURIOUS CHESTNUT HILL

Jonathon and Sarah were confused. Those noxious bastards were tearing up people left and right, yet the world thought it was OK. The monk thought so. It was obvious his 'higher-ups' did too. So did the civil authorities. Better to live with a lie, than to eradicate an evil. Still, Jonathon is quite capable of independent action. Kadeema and Lorenzo just might start drooling out the opposite side of their mouths after all. Now, let me turn you over to Zebulon for a while. Most of the stuff being channeled tonight comes from Philadelphia and he handles that part of the forest. So let him fill you in. There's a spring soiree over in Venice I want to see anyway. Reminds me of my mortal days. Ciao, you fleshy bastards. This disembodied spirit is outta here.......

Am I coming through? Testing, testing. It's me, Zebulon. Can you read me? That wilkravitz, 'familiar' guy is typing this all up, but he looks a little bloated ang gassy to me. And you know how capricious the heavenly ether can be, 'specially if he starts mixing some of his gas into the ether. What? You want to know where I've been? Well, it would make more sense to ask where I haven't been. Just let me tell you one thing. They got life everywhere and some of it is quite colorful and very accomplished, if you know what I mean. Remember those manta-ray people over on Europa (that moon of Jupiter's)? Well, you can roll them and us (I WAS a human once) up in a big meatball , roast it right next to the sun, drown it in gravy and we still don't come close to some of the folks they got living out there. I pity those two alien bastards they got locked up in New Mexico. I really feel sorry for them.  If God wants to perform a miracle, He'll free them folks. They pray enough. But I came to tell you 'bout bastards we got closer to home....

Little 'Bastard' Annie's been crying lately. I don't mean whining, like she always does. I mean crying. Real-sad-wet-little girl-tears. Look, she's only been a vampirina  for a few months. And what? Before that she was Papa's puppet (back when he was locked up) for a few months more? What do we know about her? You do realize that even vampires get confused? They forget what's real, what they picked up by telepathy, what somebody told them. You think their brain ain't still a human brain? Bullshit. Ain't no different kind of gray jelly locked up in there. They 'know' what they want to know and 'forget' the rest.  Did she come from a 'good' family? Was her mother a low-life? Who cares? It don't matter. They'll say what they want.

Evelyn, from nextdoor, is taken her kid down the shore for Memorial Day Weekend. They got a place up on Lonng Beach Island. Annie talks to the pudgy thing once in a while. She hears about the beach. She hears about the rides and all the souveniir shops. So it's only natural that she wants to go too. Of course she can't go out in the sun. Not unless we want to be on the cover of Star Magazine or something. You know how people eat up 'spontaneous human combustion' stories? But she can go out at night. She can see the beach then. You know how it looks in moonlight. I think it looks even better. She can ride on a rollie-coaster, win a stuffed animal, kill a murderous derelict under the boardwalk. Kids love that kind of stuff. And she STILL has the brain of a six or seven year old child. Can you remember what that feels like?

Papa feels bad about it. He would take her. One of the 'familiars' could set it up. They could be in a nice, deluxe hotel suite in no time. You know. They've done it before, one of those glitzed-up casino joints with black-out shades for high-rollers.  She could even go out and catch a glimpse of the twilight sky, all orange and violet. The seashore looks real good then. Maybe Baylah will take her? Her human boyfriend won't mind.

Boy, kids sure complicate things. Especially vampire kids. The 'elves and cherubs' are all right though. But they're a different story. So I don't think we're gonna be automatically calling her Little 'Bastard' Annie from now on. That 'Bastard' part don't sound right.........Boy, Papa feels bad about all this.....Listen, she's got the hiccups. Banish her. Keep her. Lock her up. We been through all that.....But she's just 'Annie' now. And somehow this is different...........Life with the vampires..........Didn't I tell you?

vampire wonderland: A MONK, A VAMPIRE, AND HIS MATE

vampire wonderland: A MONK, A VAMPIRE, AND HIS MATE: "Jonathon was already awake. It was natural to him. He felt the waning of the light. He knew it was time. Sarah still slumbered. She nestled ..."

A MONK, A VAMPIRE, AND HIS MATE

Jonathon was already awake. It was natural to him. He felt the waning of the light. He knew it was time. Sarah still slumbered. She nestled close. He protected her. Brother Elias entered the supply house. Jonathon heard his footsteps, as he trod the old, uneven boards. Then the monk knelt and rapped on the trapdoor. It's safe now. It's dark. I will let  you out, - he said.  Sarah heard him. She stretched and yawned. So many things about vampires are still quite human.

They sat at the worn table in the monk's quarters occupying the adjacent small structure. A tiny flame danced in the neat, little fireplace. Their host said his grace, before politely beginning his evening meal. The two vampires watched silently, as he ate  the simple stew. Jonathon smoked a pipe prepared by the monk. The tobacco was smooth and fine. Sarah said - I did not know that vampires could smoke. That surprizes me.......Her mate said - Why not? We don't consume it. The smoke, I mean.......Then he said something in Vahmpeerigo and the monk laughed......So, you understand our dialect? - asked the Spanish life-eater......Brother Elias said - A bit. I have met others of your kind.........How? When? Where? - said Jonathon.........Back before I came up here. Not 'here.' This is just a hermitage. The main monastery, I mean - said the monk. Before then, I lived in Rome...........Rome?? - noted Jonathon. And what were your duties, if I may ask?.........Brother Elias sighed. He knew the capabilities of these creatures. Lying woulld be impossible. So he told the truth.....I worked with a, a vampire, - he said. Excuse me. I know some of you don't like that word, but......... No, please. Don't worry. It's all right with us, - said Jonathon. You were telling of your duties. Please go on.......So the monk told them . He told them everything. And Jonathon knew that their host was one of Papa's captors. Sarah picked up on it too....But they said nothing and the monk lapsed into silence.

How is it the noxious ones leave you alone? - asked Sarah......Brother Elias shrugged and said he did not know. Perhaps it was the prayers, or maybe their primitive superstitions. You know these are the types told about in old Wallachian folktales. Dracula's cousins and all that. Who could tell what they believed? The nobles don't even know how their minds work. They discussed the killings. Brother Elias said the local authorities  did all they could to keep tourists out of certain remote areas, but there were always risk takers It happened before...and would probably happen again.........Then he looked square into Jonathon's eyes and said - Please, don't try anything. Don't attract attention. I know this is the twenntyfirst century, but please. I mean look at those poor alien creatures your present nation holds captive in New Mexico. You think only the noxious ones are stupid? It's not as simple as that. Most humans are just as bad. I don't know if I even believe half the things my creed teaches. Maybe in  a century or two, God willing, the world'll be ready for the truth. But most of them would rather have the middle ages now.............After a few heartbeats Jonathon said - I was there the night your people captured that vampire........Really? I didn't think you were that old. - said the monk. And if I might ask, how were you two connected?.................He was my 'father.' Not my human progenitor, but my 'life-eater' one..........

The monk nodded, but said nothing. Sarah took his empty bowl and washed it under the old fashioned pump. Then she stopped and looked up, recognizing the sound of 'cherubs' scampering across the roof.......

ENCOUNTER IN THE DARK

The noxious vampire beasts made short work of the torn and battered humans, draining every remaining drop of blood from their ruined bodies. Death came as a balm to the pathetic victims. Their flesh ignited, consumed by the familiar, cool, blue flames, as their souls moved toward The World To Come. Kadeema, the brutal woman, did a clumsy dance. Her male companion hugged his knees and rocked from side to side in laughter. They enjoyed the fire and capered around  like trolls in hell. When the grisly fuel was spend and the ghostly flames were gone, they sighed in disappointment and shuffled off.

Sarah spoke first. She whispered -  Those poor people. Why didn't we do anything? How could we just lie here?.......What could we have done? - said Jonathon. They were beyond hope when we got here.......But they must have sensed us. The vampires, I mean. They had to know we were here - she asked........Who knows? Maybe they didn't care - said Jonathon. But he went over to the small, twin piles of greasy ashes, reverently scooped some up and quietly chanted the prayer for the dead. Sarah just cried.

Yet another voice joined in with the prayer, intoning the ancient Hebrew verses right along with him. Should that have scared them? Well, it did not. For they felt the worth of the singer and knew him to be no threat.  Jonathon turned to face the man and saw a middleaged inndividual with a thin, fine face, dressed in the homespun robe of a monk. The noble vampire said - How is it you were able to approach us? I never felt a thing.....The man in the cassock responded - I am no threat. You felt that in your soul and you knew. The woman can come out, for I am certainly no threat to her as well........Sarah got up and went to Jonathon. She took his hand....Who are you? - he asked.......I am Brother Elias. There's a hermitage, not far from here. Come. The dawn breaks early this time of year. I will give you shelter and protection from the daylight. .......You know what we are? - whispered Jonathon...........The monk nodded and embraced them both in turn. Then they followed him down a narrow, barely visible footpath and disappeared into the pitch black shadows 'neath the trees.

You could cross these woods for a lifetime and not find the place. There were two snug stone shelters. We might call them cabins if made from logs. Each had two small, high glassless windows. The doors were thick and stout. One served as chapel and study, a 'day room,' if you will. A tiny fireplace did duty as the kitchen.  A thin cot pushed up against the bare, stone wall was the bedroom. The other structure held carefully preserved foodstuffs, neatly arranged on rough, simple shelves. A heavy trapdoor lead down to the root cellar. Brother Elias opened it and said - You can sleep here, in the dark. He gave them a short, thick candle, mouthed a prayer and sent them down. Jonathon said - Thank you..... The holy man nodded and shut the door..

The room was clean and dry. Bundles of sweet and pungent herbs hung from the rafters. Our two life-eaters snuggled together in a corner, their bodies pressed against the smooth, raw, swept, earth floor.. Sarah smelled cat, not the urine of a litter box, but the warm, sleek smell of a huntress. This realm was well patrolled. No vermin scurried here. So they comforted each other and they slept. Sarah dreamt of cruel, tormenting demons, armed with hot, sharp, flesh-piercing sticks. Jonathon dreamt of other things.............

RINGSIDE SEATS

The 'noxious' breed tends to be territorial. More so than the 'nobles.' They very rarely develope any support system. No willing 'familiars' for them. No warm, snug beddy-bye spots. They haunt the dark. They sleep in caves and holes. They wear a bunch a crap, when they wear anything at all. Some say the Biblical Lilith was one. But as I ain't never knowed her face to face, there is no way for me to comment on that.

These wild, children of the night usually travel in pairs. Gennder don't make no difference. You are liable to encounter some big, threehundred pound vaguely woman looking thing  hooked up with a little, pencil-necked vampire geek. You know what I mean? So Lorenzo and Kadeema are close to normal looking, if y'all happen to be a little bit hopped up or totin' a heavy load a wine in your belly. They keep to theyself. Most a their kind do. but a certain amount a 'driftin'' does take place, 'cause they don't sleep in the same dirty nest every night. So battles occasionally do occur. Wild stuff. Blood flyin'. Assorted, mismatched limbs twirlin' through the air. Old lady witnesses drivin' by in old lady cars goin' berserk and crashin' into trees and all. Cops blowin' whistles and runnin' the other way. Yeah it happens in America! They say it don't. but we all know what big liars 'they' are.

Now here's what's goin' down right now. Kadeema havin' fum with some tourist  couple. I don't know where they ftom. Poland or Germany or Hungary or someplace like that. I been a dead spirit hangin' 'round the I-95 (major east coast, north-south super highway) corridor in America so long, I don't know why they got me channeling this. Guess they get crossed signals in the Dead Zone too or something. Don't ask me where the hell that Johannan bitch is. By rights, he should be the one doin'' all the talkin.' Wait I see him. I am gonna pinch him real hard.  And I got these long strong finger nails too. Like the shells from Brazil nuts they are. Hey, we might be disembodied spirits (most a the time) but certain habits die hard, like a good  diggin' and scratchin'finger nail fight. And I sure as hell know you understand what I mean.

So Kadeema got the woman cornered up against this big rock. That's what she gets  for bein' so cheap. Coulda peeled off a few a them whacked new Euros and been wigglin' her tushie into a mostly bedbug free mattress in one a the official camp sites. Her husband shoulda smack her. Yeah, I know that is no longer politically smiled upon. But I don't mean 'smack her' smack her. I mean just raise his hand like he gonna do it. You know, scare her a little. Sure woulda saved a lot a trouble, 'cause she is certainly shittin' herself right now.

That noxious bitch just bit off the sick, little end a one a her taa-taas. Ooooh, she screamin'! The husband got his eyes rollin' up into the top a that bald, greasy head .. (that's cause Lorennzo is chokin' him real good) I do not think the male noxious intends to kill him. Not that way. He just wanna shut him up a little. Now the tourist woman sittin' on her squishy bootie  cryin' and cryin.' The man tourist just got part a his neck bit open. Look at Lorenzo chewin' on that gummy gristle. I never realized it was so white. Don't worry. The vampires ain't swallowin' none a those bit-off, or chewed-up parts . They just do it to be mean and because it's so damn much fun. Soon as it stops bein' fun, them humans gonna go 'gook' (means breathe they last...rhymes with cook) in the usual vampire inspired manner. Lucky the woods is thick 'round here, real Hansel and Gretel like. Only I ain't seen no house made outta stale, sickening tasting European cookies yet. Not even in the little gift kiosk they got squattin' over in the middle of the tourist section. . But just lemme wait till all this photogenic killin' gets done. Then I'll have me some time to look around.

And even though our gruesome twosome ain't gotta deal with no human eyes watchin' all this, that don't mean nobody else ain't takin' it all in. There go a pretty hazel pair right over there. See? Just behind that bush. Ain't she a sweet little life-eater thing? Look just like that sorta red haired one from Thelma and Louise, only a few years younger. And  that Spanish-lookin' vamparino with her does tend to favor a juvenile Antonio what's-his-name if you ask me. Bet we'll be seein' some more a them real soon.

Oh, you wanna know why I talk like all this? Well, my daddy was the voice for Foghorn Leghorn, ya know. And let's just say the role came natural to him. It a family thing. So shet up...I  got me some violence to watch here....

SARAH FILLS US IN ON THINGS

Right off, I want you to know this is me talking. It's Sarah. They tell me I have a role to play in all this, but everyone else pushes in front of me. You should see Jonathon. He's going more 'meditterano' by the minute, mixing the Italian with the Provencal with the Catalan. But that's how they do it. That's 'Vahmpeerigo,' la lungua de los Vampiros, the tongue of the vampires. Oh, he strikes poses and waxes poetic. You know how some Europeans get. He's not 'Jonathon' anymore....Now he's Jonathon-Tomas, his Spanish name. And he says it this way. He says 'Yo-na-tahn--Toe-mas, real fast. You know Mandy Patinkin, in The Princess Bride? Well then you know what I'm dealing with. Next it'll be flamenco. Watch, you'll see. He liked that 'cull' the other night. He liked how he handled that ratty, little gangster guy. Not one false move. New-Age vampire central casting all the way. And the alpine breezes blow his hair just so. Mine to actually. It's hard to be plain in an environment like this. We went into a nice, cozy, Euro-contemporaty rest stop along one of the main roads (still narrow) in Il Parco Nazionale del Gran Paradiso (Romantic scenery to die for). Sure, we didn't want the coffee. You know that. We just wanted to look at the humans and smell the sumptuous Piedmontese aromas.  But the humans also apparently wanted to examine us. One woman told me I was 'motto bella,' I think she said. The husband compared me to a  young Susan Sarandon. He was making eyes at me the whole time. Said he thought Jonathon, no, Yo-na-tahn--Toe-mas, was my younger brother. Whew! You know he didn't like that. But always the courtly Spaniard, he just flashed him his best Andalucian sonrisa (smile) and gave him a curt, little nod.

I could exist here for ever. We carry very little with us, maybe a backpack. Sometimes we lose that. It's easy to sublimate through the wall of some cute, tiny souvenir kiosk and make off with a new ensemble, if you like tee-shirts, hoodies and sandals. Jonathon leaves some of the cash he takes from his 'culls.' We're vampires, but we're not thieves. It's important to me that you know that, OK?

The air here is incredible. The moonlight, like magic. I was two feet from a family of chamois yesterday. You know, those white, long-haired mountain goats with the short, black horns? Beautiful. The mother led her two kids right into our cave. Oh, she stopped short when she sensed us. I know she couldn't see us that far back, not with all the twists and turns. But I could see her. I guess it's those cat's eyes we've got. And the little ones were just adorable. One came up and sniffed my hand. Oh, I almost cried. How can humans possibly eat lamb chops? You tell me that. You'd have to be a real animal.

I slip into nearby towns every now and then, to visit the hopelessly ill. I can smell them. It's a talent of mine. I'll sublimate into some isolated niche in a hospital, or a modest, little sick-room in a house and quietly perform a minor miracle or two. This is my routine. This is how I do it. If they wake up, I say - Fear not. I am come to heal your pain......Remember this is a Catholic area, at least culturally. They're used to such things. According to the local newspaper, saints swing through here all the time. Must be on the annual tour or something? So then, when I have their attention, I bite into my lip, just enough to draw a drop or two, go over to the bedside, kneel down and administer 'the kiss of life.' Next morning, when I'm long gone, Nonna's asking for her biscotti and latte and cursing the grandkids for losing her false teeth again. I don't know. It just makes me feel good. Sure, Jonathon does it too. He taught me how to give that 'Fear not...' speech in the local dialect. But with me, it's different. In my case, I think it's why I was MADE a vampire.

Only thing wrong with all this is the smell. It's real weak. Just a slight, little whiff. I pick it up sometimes late at night, right before the dawn. It's a vampire smell. I'm almost sure of it. Yet it's a bit different. Jonathon smells it too. I can read his mind a little better than he realizes. This is 'noxious' territory. There's no way to avoid it. We have to go through it. Who knows? Maybe it's part of our pilgrimage? Maybe it's like a test? And maybe...we're both starting to get a little scared. Well, at least the world didn't end a few hours ago...Right? Thank God for that.........

PAPA'S DINNER DATE

Papa caught his reflection in the eightteenth century gilt mirror. Thick steel colored waves, soulfully handsome face, he still had it. But he's a vampire. He's had it for thousands of years. If you think he's gonna lose it, you're nuts. Still, that don't mean our Richard Gere look-alike never worries. Emotions play a part too. Mood can enter into it. And life with the uber-vampire-bitch, Luna, plus their (what would you call her?) 'problem child' affectionately known as Little Bastard Annie does take a certain toll. Still, things had been quiet lately. Nosey Evelyn, from across the lawn responded wonderfully  to her under-the-table, vampire blood droplet regimine. Her face looked a little less monkey-fied, less upper lip hair, smoother skin, didn't fart so much. Sure, it made her love Papa even more. Now she was completely devoted to him. And that butt-insky didn't even know the reason why. God bless that pizza kid. No, really. God BLESS the pizza kid. No more shitty pizza for that house. Whiney  big mouth kids spread stories fast. So she got shamed into it. Now Friday nights are a lot happier at her place. That slob kid a hers puts away more than half a pie. But (and here's the important part) the kid won't eat no anchovies. Evelyn loves anchovies. She smells like one too. But that might just be early menopause. So, Dougie, I think his name is, comes  'round the back of our place first, sneaks into the kitchen and opens the boxes. Papa comes in, bites into his finger and dribbles a little bit of red 'Papa juice' onto the fishy part. The salty anchovies  hide it real good. You'd never know it was there. But it does it's job. Evelyn is a bit more copasetic. And the cops ain't called as often. OK, so she makes these nauseating cow eyes at Papa now whenever she sees him. But she been doing that all alonng anyway. Edith, our Piney 'seer' woman, says we oughta feed vampire juice (just from the good ones) to all them hard to handle political leaders they got dancin' around  in them 'goofy countries over there.'  Might make 'em more friendly-like. Papa laughs. He says that would only work if the president was a vampire, or maybe the secretary of state. And, according to him, they tried it centuries ago back in Italy. What do you think Lucretia Borgia had in that ring a hers? She didn't go around killing everybody. Some of 'em just got 'juiced up' a little. We asked Papa if he knew the vampire responsible for those dosages, but he just smiled and looked away.

Oh, yeah, what was I talking about? Wait, I know. That gilt mirror. Papa lookin' in that old French object d'art. You see, he was havin' 'dinner' with Doctor Franklin in the former patriot's palatial quarters over at the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau. The threehundred year old plus, jowly human tucked into them premium, all-lump-broiled-crabmeat cakes with extreme relish. A little sickening, if you ask me. Papa tried to ignore the greasy spittle runnin' down the stringy haired bastid's chin. Thank God he had a nice green apple aroma candle (his favorite) in front a him. They was talkin' bout Jonathon's progress over in the Old World. Papa could pick up such things. The old man wanted to know his views on their Pilgrimage and the spiritual efficatiousness of it all. But our twentyeight thousand year old patriarch (in a thirty two or three year old body) said he did not know. Franklin just chuckled. He didn't believe him. But he WAS SURE the world wouldn't end at six pee-em tomorrow, because the old almanac writer had his friends UP ABOVE too. And they ain't never told  him  no such thing.................