THE TORTURED SOULS OF WONDERLAND SEEK SOLACE IN A STRANGE EMBRACE

The evil jinns wanted to prolong the game. True, the tortured vampirina would not die. Still, they did not want her to retreat into insanity. So they managed to get down on the floor (remember, they were projecting the bodies of desiccated, crumbling corpses), where they bit and scratched the rats till they bled and ran away. Then each one grabbed an arm and they dragged her through the villa to the cellar stairs. One of them. I think it was the female, opened the thick, old cedar door. Still smelled fresh it did, after two hundred years. Well, you know those Ottomans only had the best. The other one pushed her moaning form to the brink mumbled a quick incantation and errupted into dry, wheezing laughter as she tumbled down the worn, stone steps. He could have just pushed her, but you know what a showy lot those jinns are.

Broke a few bones on the way down she did. Would they heal? I mean fast, like a vampire. Guess that depends on her diet. Too bad she's a 'noble'. Too bad she eats only once a month....Too bad. The two exotic demons streaked down the gray stone stairwell like characters in a Warner Bros. cartoon. One of 'em did a bit of fancy hand gestures . You know, like Endora used to do? And the rough stones used to seal in the young North American went poof and evaporated, just like that. So they rolled her ripped and oozing body into the niche and pressed her rat-chewed face against the Young Man's still living neck.The jinn-demons scrambled out, did a stylized fandango, peed on the floor (mostly dust) and brought back each and every evaporated brick till the niche was sealed once more. Then they put their shredded ears up to the wall and listened. .......Nothing happened. They snapped their cadaverous fingers (more like chopsticks clattering), freeing the Young North American from his solitary drab universe, sending his soul boucing right back into his body.........He groaned.........They giggled........His eyes opened......The demon-jinns, quite adept at remote viewing, saw it all. So they shook hands and scampered up out of the shadows, running out into the balmy evening to torment others. Needless to say, the desiccated, corpse-like bodies were quickly discarded.

The Young Noorth American woke up. He felt the clammy, incoherent more-than-human form pressed up against him. He touched the sticky fluid round her wounds. Sarah babbled . She brought her hands up to her ruined face and cried. She moaned and whispered - Help me. Please help me. He heard her, but his humman eyes saw nothing in the close. warm darkness. Though he knew that she was cold. Her breath had no heat in it. He ran his hands along her body in an attempt to 'see' her and retched when he found the raw, wet, bloody stumps......

But life-eaters have strong instincts. She smelled his thick, rich blood. Yes, yes, yes, we've told you many times. It isn't purely the blood that sustains them, but the 'cullin' of unworthy lives........... except when they need  to regenerate. The new flesh (and leg bones too) has to come from somewhere. Remember, this isn't Trueblood or Twilight here. We're talking about reality. So she rolled in close and began to nibble. Oh, his young, North American skin was so soft and supple. And the blood so pure and clean. He tried to pull away. She calmed him, shushing him as best she could with her raw, torn, rat-bitten lips. And so he was compliant. Would she kill him? Who knows? Maybe the jinns changed their minds? Maybe they wanted to see the vampiric creation of an innocent all along? What better way to defile this blessed night of Divine forgiveness and reconcilliation.

Now, please, ask me no more tonight. For I too have petitions to lay before my Lord. Disembodied spirits transgress too. And I do not want to slide down there again. Perhaps I can find Jonathon? He flickers between Heaven and Earth so readily now.... I don't know where to begin........ So GET AWAY.....Leave me alone........This unnamed Disembodied spirit has work to do.............

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

please visit at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/ or review our interesting link list a few pages down, after the  10/3 post......... thank you from all of us at http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/   kindly tell others . spread the tale.

THE RAT KING MEETS A VAMPIRE PRINCESS, TO THE DELIGHT OF SOME DESICCATED, JIGGLING CORPSES

By Billy Kravitz http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz and http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/  but I guess you already know that, because you're here. Don't blame me. One of the 'elves' made me do it...

Now jinns are not possessed of a corporal form. True, they can ape the physical appearance of any creature, but left to their own devices, these entities prefer to zap through the firmament with the red hot freedom of a lightning bolt. So when Sarah attempted to sublimate into the old Ottoman villa, she saw no one. Her head silently passed through the thick, plaster, stone and concrete wall. Then her shoulders. Next the breasts (that always makes her wince, since you can imagine the pain a sudden solidification would cause). Arms are easy. They're relatively thin. The ribs and spine cause a bit of discomfort. She could feel every tiny stone and particle in the wall. But she was used to that. Even the pelvic part wasn't that bad and a misstep here has been known to drive vampires mad.

But something went wrong with the legs. Some mommentary blip in the ether distracted her and she hiccuped. Not a big thing in and of itself.....Except when evil jinns are watching. Of course you understand that magic is mostly illusion. I speak not of Kreskins and Copperfields, but of a more  complete experience. Would you like an example? Then ponder your own existence. Look in a mirror. Study your form. Dance about a bit. Stick out your tongue. You know what modern day necromancers (called physicists) say about that? They say is is just an elaborate projection. They say we (and everything else) inhabit a two  dimensional membrane stretched over forever. And Whatever Power it is that deems to give us animation, quickens us into a three dimensional form. All without the encumbering necessity of any uncomfortable, cardboard glasses. Imagine that.

So the evil jinns pulsed out of their usual plain, assuming the form of six thousand spiders.. somewhat.large, stiff-haired, repulsive arthropods. They scurried out of the darkness, scratching their tiny, two-clawed feet over every part of our house breaking vampirina.... into her hair.....tickling her ears.......molesting her lips........ biting her nipples..... and driving her mad.

The concentration required when sublimating was lost. The upper part oof her body, to a point approximately three inches below her hips, tumbled down onto the smooth, tiled floor. But her legs took a different route, solidifying  on the other side of this stout barrier. As soon as that happened, the creepy-crawlers vanished. And a crippled young Sarah (still on the bright side of thirty after all) writhed screaming in crushing pain, as the pink, watery drool that passes for vampire blood seeped out of her stumps. The two evil jinns convulsed with stratchy laughter from their seats on a nearby, mohair divan. It doesn't take long for them to reconstitute. A pair of skeletal, withered, desiccated corpse puppets, jibber-jabbering away in the orange glow from a small, ceramic hearth, and pointing fleshless digits at the  mutilated lady-thing screaming at their feet. While out beyond the wall, carrion dogs (often in cahoots with such beings), bit into the more-than-human legs and ran off.

You may not know it, but vampires can regenerate. Purloined body parts grow back. It takes time, maybe a few nights, or a few weeks. But it happens, provided the surviving  bits and pieces fall into sympathetic hands. And in this case...the victim...was not so blessed..........

The skinniest corpse thingie hopped down. Part of a dry, brittle foot snapped off, but so what. For it's all just illusion. And a quick, sleek rat streaked out to clean up the mess. Look, his cousins were also eager to join the feast. At first they raced to the jinns. A bite here. A nip there. But the tricky demons just cackled as they threw them off.  One (for some reason, I think it was the male) spat out some words in an unknown language, sending the inflated, oily mousykins running off to taste their true main course.

Could she fight them off? Did she have that vampiric ability? Who knows? But she panicked...and laid there crying, as her eyelids and earlobes proceeded to disappear.............

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Brrrrrrr! The Nutcracker was never like this............Oh, before you  go, scroll down to the bottom of our 10/3 post for a new addition  to our useful assortment of (other people's) links.
  

CANTICLE OF DOOM...A NIGHT SONG IN THE VAMPIRE WONDERLAND

Pain comes in various forms. It can be crushing, like being scraped across the solid earth by a two hundred foot Tsumani. It can be searing, such as the ten thousand red-hot teeth of a blast furnace. At times it can be subtle, a slowly buildinng pressure brought on by too much salt, or a tube shoved down the throat. That was a favorite during the Inquisition. Strip the martyr bare. Chain him to a platform. Feed him 'the snake.' Make him swallow. One more time...One more time... Get the tube down in his gut. Roll over the cask. Hook them up. Release the flow. Swallow...Swallow...Drink it down...Cool water, that's all. And refreshing after three days spent in dark, cold,  crawling filth. Ah, watch the belly rise. Pat the little drum. See the eyes grow wide. Had enough?...Had enough?....No, no. We go not by what you say, for there's so much  yet  to come. See? The cask holds plenty.....And it's all yours........The victim tries to scream. He strains against the chains. Blood flows from his wrists, from his legs. The metal cuts deep. And his wild eyes stare from this world to the next, as the delicate membranes of his stomach begin to tear. Water pours from his urethra. Bile gushes from his mouth, blood stained mucus from his nose. And the absolved of evil demons dance and giggle as they hear it...Shhh...Listen...Quiet.....Listen.....Here it comes! Here it comes! .....Get your head from off his belly!! Do you want to lose an ear!? .....Jump back! Jump back! No, don't turn away! You'll miss it! ...Look at him shake! Look at him quake! Look at him vibrate,like brandy soaked cake!.... Ah, I love my job.....Though you know with me it's not a job.....With me it is a calling. ........ And then we hear the rumble, like an earthquake deep at sea, as the 'party favor' shatters and the blast hits you and me...... Shards of man-meat gild the lanterns. Don't they throw an eerie light? Look how pink his flesh is. Just like piggy. It's that white. Awwwww, to bad the party's over. Did he have to die so soon? Climb back down into the dungeons. And hoist up another goon! .......And so it went......I was there.....A pinada for the 'children,' A play thing for the 'pure.' Just Heretic Number Seven, there to get the 'water cure.'

So I make a song of it. So what? You should hear the arias the burnt ones sing. And the evil jinns in the villa had their own dear brand of pain, more a quiet, endless sojourn meant to render one insane. They could do this with their powers. They could whisper in his ear, till the young man from the New World was immersed in endless fear.

Now other realms are out there, some quite nice and some quite not. And the one in which they sealed him was the meanest of the lot. The ground went on forever, just a smooth, gun-metal plain, with a pearl gray sky above it quite incapable of rain.  His footspets tread on iron, not too hot, but just enough. And the air that filled the ether never moved . There was no sound, save his moist and wheezing breathing , as he laid his body down on a hard  as Hades matress for a night that never came. While his twirling, merry captors were quite grateful for the game.

You see, the spirit and the body move in very different worlds. His soul screamed, deep in torment, while his flesh lay on a cot, bricked in deep behind the coal bin in this little nook they got. Would it die? Well, yes, I think so. For the oxygen grows thin, in the black as doom stone hidey-hole they put this 'boychick' in. But the soul goes on forever in a world that never dies. As the young man from the New World wanders neath unchanging skies.

But then she found it. Her feet just lead her to the spot. She could smell the hopeless hiker. She could feel the endless rot. Sarah recognised the cage. She too was once so tortured, during Papa's wild rage.

She meant to sublimate inside the place to aid the poor sweet soul. but the evil jinns both felt her and they rushed to thwart her goal.

Do you know what happens to vampires unable to sublimate through solid matter quickly enough? What must it be like to solidify in stone? Ask the vampires of Tibet sealed within the Earth's own bone. For the mountains there hold plenty, buried downwards from the moon. Would our own dear, Lady Sarah share that same fate all too soon?...........

My name? That's not important. But my poetry hides pain. Just come back when next the stars shine and I'll spin the tale again...... Clap, clap, clap...Step, step, step....how I love to dance.....

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Remember, visit our 10/3 post. Just scroll down a bit. It's not far. You'll find it. There at the bottom lies our convenient easy, link list where you can click on and off an assortment of wild and wonderful posts. some about vampires, others based on quite surprising things. give it a try. And please tell your friends about us here at http://bit.ly/gw7fAE/................. or tweet with us at http://Twitter.com/@wilkravitz/

SOMETIMES IT AIN'T THE CAT WHAT GOT YOUR TONGUE.....SARAH DINES ON A HUMAN TRAFFICER OUT BY THE CEMENT POND

Sarah strolled through the semi-arid parklands, so like the California she was used to. Jonathon's forebearers had tombs there. He showed her one once, a rough stone vault it was. No bodies. No bones. Centuries of jackals had taken care of that. But you could still see the indentations in the floor and along the raised ledge. Everyone thought people were shorter then. Well, some were. The average height was a bit less, but tall people managed to get born too. The 'bathtubs' (that's what the fresh, young vandals called them) in Jonathon's ancestors' dead-house measured just over four cubits long... big enough to accommodate a six footer. Now remember, he came from a priestly, noble family, so I guess they ate good. Not so much of the wheat and the chaff in their diet. More like partridge and fatted calf, if you know what I mean. Oh, yeah, here's another thing. Most  folks who ain't Jews think them animal sacrifices they had back then were purely meant to send high priced appetizers up to God. But the Almighty must a already et. People knew that. Priests knew that. Them sides a beef and plump little doves just got cooked on the Holy Brazier, that's all. Underneath, on a lower level, were the Temple kitchens, where the charred victuals were used to feed families of functionaries, as well as the poor. Kind a like that yeller government cheese they toss out to hungry folk in America from time to time, only juicier and  less likely to give ya the shits.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.....It's still me, your good, old Heebie-Geebie Man. So don't expect me to maintain that hoity-toity talkin style I had for most a the first paragraph. Damn, did I just say 'paragraph'? what the hell does that mean? Most I ever read was the back of a Post Toasties box, or them Bazooka Joe bubblegum jokes.. Still, dead folks do manage to learn themselves a lot. And I was cooked to death, just like them ancient sacrifices. So maybe I am special? Why else would 'they' have sent me to tell all this to you? Know how many heavenly dead folks they got? Shit, they got billions a dead folks from planets all over. Some a them got two malfs. Could tell it to ya twice as fast. But ya got me. So grab onto all ya jiggly bits, 'cause we taken off.....

Let's see. I was tellin' you 'bout Sarah. She just walkin' and thinkin'. Just walkin' and thinkin'. Culled herself a nasty son-a-bitch just sixteen minutes earlier. Caught up wiff him outside a hotel. A real champion bastid, if you know what I mean. Promised dumb, little gals from them Tobacco Road villages they got just a ways to the east that he'd get em high paying jobs over where the rich folks lived along the Persian Gulf. Only profession they ever wound up in was the world's oldest. Nobody cared. Families pretended they were dead anyway. One gal did manage to escape, made it all the way back home too. Know what happened to her? Shit, man! They lopped her head off! She a whore! She ruined. They can't make do wit that.  What kind a husband she gonna get? Not even as a bargain basement priced, semi-ugly, slightly hunched over third wife. Damn, she better off without a head.

So Sarah coornered the bastid who caused it all. She made eyes at him over some 'highball' at the hotel bar. Probably thought she was some kind a hootchie. They got high priced ones in your better class a hotel, even in this town. Don't believe me? Go read the Bible. You'll find em. He follows her out behind the high dive by the pool. The lights they got pointed at the palms and bushes and all can't reach back there. He grabs her and starts gettin spit all over her face. She lets him do it too, like for a minute or two.. Then she whispers in his ear. Tells him she his angel of death. He think she crazy. No big deal. Crazy gals can be a lot a fun. But then she says it again. And her nails start cuttin into the back a his hairy neck. Her breath gets hot too. He tries to pull away. But she a vampire. She strong. He can't go no where. So he cries, only she squeezin onto his throat so hard nuthin comes out. Then he starts jerkin around, like he havin a coniption fit or something. Face goes all red. Eyes pop out like on that little sqeezy pink, rubber doll they sell. Starts gaspin for air. Big, fat, white-coated tongue comes right through his swelled up lips. And he lookin at her. He just lookin at her.  He beggin.  He really beggin. She can feel the words right there on his no good soul. Damn, do I know what that is like.

Then she does it. Then she takes him. Saw him in a vision, so she couldn't let him go. Just leans in a little bit closer, takes that dead lookin purple tongue in her mouth, sucks it back into her throat real good...and bites it off. Just slices it right off. Don't even spit it out. Just wads it over into her cheek and drinks up all his blood, right from the torn-up stump. Took her bout a hundred and forty four heartbeats to drain that sloppy bastid dry. Took just as long for the cool, blue flame (which miraculously consumes the remains) to finish him off. Some guy from the kitchen comes running out to douse the fire. But by the time he gets there it's all over. Just a thick, greasy smudge down on the cement, givin off a few, skinny wisps a smoke. Nobody there, but a couple little lizards ran out from the bushes to lick up all the mess...........

Damn! I was gonna tell you what went on inside that house tonight. Only I gotta sublimate back up to the Baton Rouge part a heaven now,  'cause.......I hear my mama callin.........

So we gotta leave things off for now.....until we meet again.......

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

REMEMBER, scroll down to the bottom of yesterday's post for some really interesting blogs (other people's, I mean). Just click on the links. You'll be there in a jiffy.......Got a  good free music site too...... If you want to follow all the craziness on Twitter, just link onto me at @wilkravitz.....And please tell others about all that goes on at http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/   THANK YOU VERY MUCH

A NEW DISEMBODIED VOICE EXPERIENCED A BIT OF SPONTANEOUS HUMAN COMBUSTION OF HIS OWN

I am gonna tell you what it is that's goin' on tonight. The job fell to me. That's what they say. So let me tell you a little bit about myself. They call me the Heebie-Geebie Man. I got that moniker during them 'No Drinkin'' days, what you all call Prohibition. Big shot racketeers used to pay me to sit on a street corner and watch things. They wanted to know who went by. I told 'em. They wanted to know which cop had a real strong addiction to money. I found out.

People used to say--Damn, Gus (whoops, I said me name) quit eye ballin' us like that. You givin' everybody the heebie-geebies. I just played like I was a drunk half wit or something, spittin' up on the sidewalk, beggin' for nickles. And they bought it. They, when it got dark, I'd slip into certain places, secret places. These were like the speak easies behind the speak easies. Gent'd be mushin' up wit some little boopsie, or playing five card draw. You  know, the big shots. The Capo de Tutti Capo. Give me like say a half grapefruit soused in gin, wit a lotta red cherries on top. Sit mme down at a table and get me to talkin'. I could remember everythin'. And they knew it. Spit it all out like a ticker-tape machine. Told 'em who needed shootin'. Who needed leg-breakin'. Oh, they 'specially enjoyed messin' wiff knee caps. Dat was sumpin' to see. Made fat fellas sing like canaries. Heh, heh, heh. I enjoyed that. Time I left, say like one or two in the morning, had like maybe fifteen, twenty dollahs in my pockets.

But then one day, some little, snot nosed, shit ass kid sneezed right in my face. Some flew right in my malf. Up my nose too. And eighteen hours later, I gave birth to the worst cold of my life. Eyes runnin'. Mucus escapin' from almost every orafice. Razor blades doin' tap dances up and down my throat. Clammy sweats runnin' down my fore head, my back, my groin. Hands shook so bad I couldn't even beg for no nickles. People said - Damn, Gus, what you doin' out here, fixin' to die? I just give 'em my half wit laugh, tremble a little... and they leave me alone. you see, I could not go in no wheres. I had responsibilities. I had a job to do. And wasn't no American Federation of Labor for me to run to if the boss got mad. Shit, boss get mad, he'd just shoot me....If I was lucky......Only that day... I wasn't lucky.

Greasy Faced Hopkins was tryin' to squeeze his fat ass into other people's business. And certain gents needed to be kept appraised as to his comin's and goin's.  I was supposed to be the fella doin' the appraisin'.  Promised me a new, slightly worn suit for it too. Maybe like an overcoat to go wiff it. One of the good ones wiff hardly no bullet holes, or crumbs in the pockets. Coulda used a warm coat. Coulda used a few snot rags too, 'cause that cold was killin' me (little did I know). Must a been like the gripe, or the flu, or the Saint Vitus Dance I had. God damn that bastid kid. Why he have to go and spray me like that? But then the sky did the same f**k*n' thing, 'cause it started drippin' ice cold water all over my  dirty head.. Maimie from the candy store ran out wiff a cup a coffee. Said she gonna have me carted off and locked up in the ha-ha hotel.  But when I give in to lettin' her throw some old rug on top a me, she lemme alone.

I don't know. Figured that coffee shoulda kept me awake. But that sickness dug in so hard, I couldn't help it. So when Greasy Face come by...Hell, he come by two or three times, I shamed to say. I never seen it, 'cause I was layin' senseless in a steamin' hot pool of my own vomit. That's how they found me. Man, when that happened, I got  totally cured real fast. Started cryin'. Started blubberin'. Didn't even mind bein' stripped naked and chained to some old, chipped chair from The White Castle. That what they wanted to do...howdy doody...that their business. Just let me live.... Am I right? .........Well, pains me to say, but them bastids didn't see it that way...... Shoulda knowed when they set me up in an empty, cement floored warehouse........ I mean, like who wants a lot a collateral damage? Am I right?

After I peed myself and evacuated my bowels  real good a few dozen times, they started scratchin' they heads and yawnin'. Looked a little bit bored too. What they expect me to do, sing songs, tell jokes? Shit, I ain't no professional.. Guy lights this torch. Made it outta some rolled up pages from the old Philadelphia Ledger. Starts pokin' it at me. In all the worst places too. Like pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, 'cept he  a cheater, 'cause he ain't wearin' no blindfold. Made me shriek and scream so bad they had to shove an old pimple ball in my malf.... I don't know. Maybe they woulda let me live. Only some runty, little mug comes scramblin' in. Goes right up  to the Big Boss and  starts whisperin' sumpin in his least favorite ear. Big Boss gets a look on his face like they just pushed his best mama into some gen-you-wine, champion, Hawaiian volcano...... So that sorta put the kai-bosh on it for me, 'cause then he looks up and yells --- Give that shithead a baff!!!

Some assistant-knee cap-breaker-in-trainin', like what you would call an intern today,  goes into a back room and comes runnin' out wiff a big, square can a gasoline, which he proceeds to slosh all over my tremblin' body (not from the cold no more, but in anticipation of the antidote they was fixin' to give me). Couldn't even cry wiff that pimple ball shoved all the ways  passed  my teef. Just sat there, thrashin' back and forth till that old White Castle chair flipped over on its side and slammed me down on that cold, hard floor.  Shame I didn't break my neck, 'cause just like one a them square, little hamburgers, they commenced to fire grillin' me right there on the spot......And you know how long it takes to cook a hamburger, don't cha?

Look, sorry I wasted all your time wiff my story......But I just wanna get you ready for what's comin' up.....

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Want more vampire stuff? Try these worthy blogs
1) http://mondovampire.blogspot.com/
2) http://biting-edge.blogspot.com/
3) http://vampirewire.blogspot.com/
4) http://theblogthattimeforgot.blogspot.com/  actually sci-fi and fantasy, but why quibble?
This one isn't about vampires, just a great, general site, for when you need a taste of intelligent reality
 5) http://samuelclemons.blogspot.com/
And now some more vampire
6) http://twisted-kingdom.blogspot.com/
7) http://vampchix.blogspot.com/
8) http://facebook.com/billytolley/  iPhone 40.382701,- 105.519895 (appears on & produces various cable paranormal shows..... he knows where all the bodies are buried, so to speak)
9) http://www.nbc.com/Last_Call_with_Carson_Daly/  cool stuff, great host, vampires love that show
10) http://LisaBouchard.com/ interact with a worthy writer of the weird and wonderful
11) http://paranormalityuniverse.blogspot.com/ choices, choices, choices. the name says it all!
12) http://OnlineBusinessTrainer.com/ click onto this site, run by the illustrious Aymee Buckhannon for free web seminars aimed ay helping you create attractive, easy to use websites and blogs.
13) http://the-vampire-diaries-episode.blogspot.com/ keep up with the hot Abercrombie & Fang set
14) http://kirstiealley.com/ schmooz with a genuine, been-there-done-that, media legend. leave a comment.
15) http://dawnsdaily.com/ discover a fresh, new, sane, compelling voice, with important things to say & share.
16) http://markeverettstone.com/ very well done site by accomplished fantasy author. urban enchantment, adventure and mythology...a heady brew.
17) http://jewsmuse.blogspot.com/ find out where Jonathon and a few of the others are coming from.
PLEASE REMEMBER TO TELL FRIENDS ABOUT US HERE AT http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/

VAMPIRE WONDERLAND+++++ Your one stop site (well, in some cases, one stop and a click)  for all things weird and wonderful.

PLEASE COMMENT. Leave YOUR LINK too! A good place to see and be seen....

Thank you all very much. And one last thing...feel free to join our pixilated discourse at http://Twitter.com/wilkravitz/
STOP! STOP! STOP! This just in--------- Want the link to a new, LEGAL, FREE, UNLIMITED, MUSIC SITE? An improved, updated, more facile 'Son of Napster'? Sure you do. Vampire cognoscenti are aurally oriented too. So here it is --- http://www.spotify.com/  ...... Also, we found the REAL BRIDGIT (spelled right?) JONES' DIARY...except she's happily married , but still a native London, urban neurotic in the most delightful, wittiest way... click on http://generationwhynot-stupidgirl.blogspot.com/ and tune into her humorous take on 21st century life................................   Is that it?...............Uh, that's it.

TWO JINNS AND A JACK PLAY DEATH GAMES (but not spontaneous human combustion) UP IN THE HEIGHTS FROM WENCE COMETH OUR HELP

The evil jinns played their tricks. It was so easy. Burlesque the  form of a human, wander the cafes and marketplaces, strike up a conversation with traveling students or anyone else short on coin and that's it. Offer a meal. Hint at the possibility of a clean pallet. Smile. Look sincere. Finger the appropriate religious talismen . And keep from laughing. Most of all, keep from laughing.

Two jinns had a  good one, a young man, a student from some big university like Yale, or McGill. What an attractive, prime catch he was. Well, someone won't be back for the fraternity Halloween party. A semester overseas? How tempting. How beguiling...How fatal. He had a backpack, stuffed with one hundred percent cotton clothes, some toiletries and maybe a few slightly worse for wear photographs.

The first jinn, the sly one, insisted on carrying the burden. The second jinn, smiled, leading the way through the dense evening crowds and  thick, humid air to a charming old villa in the hills. Come...Come....Not far at all... It will be cooler there.....We'll have dates and wine...You can tell us of your life in North America.

So he went. This was Jerusalem after all. And they seemed to have so much in common. What could happen? One of them said he had cousins in Los Angeles. The other mentioned a father in the clergy. And a respite in such commodious quarters certainly outweighed another night in the hostel. 

The three new friends snaked through  old stone passageways, exiting the ancient quarter and ascending the heights. Ah, taste the breeze, fragrant with the scent of hibiscus and rosemary. Ottoman manor houses, set amidst carefully tended 'dry' gardens lined the footpath.

That's it. Right there. The one on the left. Did the first jinn unlatch the gate, or did it just swing open? Oh, don't be that way. Such a misanthrope you are! The curly haired youth put such thoughts aside and entered. It is said that a bey or pasha once held court here. Cool, handmade tiles under foot. Fine plastered walls, carefully decorated by the most accomplished, long dead artisans. The furnishings, an eclectic melange of dark, Mediterranean pieces and 'Mid-Century' chrome and leather modern. Quite striking. Martha Stewart meets Lawrence of Arabia. The North American student approved. Such good taste the hideously tortured owners had. . Shhhhh, I think one of the newly dead spirits heard his thoughts. See? It smiled! Disembodied narrators, such as I, can sense such things. If the curly haired lad's olifactory abilities were a bit more accute, he might have sensed things too, like the stennch of rotting corpses drifting down from an upstairs closet.

Oh, but dismemberment was not to be his fate. The jinns had other games to play. The first one favored drowning him in a rather large, blue willow, Chinese rice jar. Pure, virgin olive oil would suffice. Slip on the lid. Seal it shut with wax and there you have it! The perfect ornament for an inglenook or landing. And so heavy too. Not prone to tipping, that one is.

The second jinn had a preference for maggots. Why not? They were close at hand. Throw the mortal baggage into one of the subterranean stone lined vaults (after carefully paralizing him with the appropriate incantation). Slap in a few handfuls of the plump, pus colored wormies. Go on. Just scrap them up off the dead ones upstairs. More than enough for everybody. True...good, honest maggots have principles. Most would turn up their noses (or whatever they were) at the thought of a living meal. But their minds were small and very easy to bewitch. The slightest bit of prestadigitation would loosen their mandibles.

Look at him sip his wine. See how he relishes the sugary dates. Catch his eyes, as they take in all the wealth. Oh, how his parents will cry. You know how that goes. Television appearances. Pleas to the culprits. Rewards. Crying siblings. Grim-jawed fathers. Such a circus... What a show.....But too late...too late....for their particular 'Elvis' will already have left the building.

Yet who can tell how such charades will play out? For Sarah walks by.......and ... shhh... she can smell it all...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Should our tale entice you, remember to visit us at @wilkravitz on Twitter...and please be sure to pass on the magic link. Send http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/ / flying off through the ether to your nearest and dearest..... Untill the next time, oh best beloveds...... Oh, yes. One more thing. Papa reads a lot and he's discovered some other blogs worthy of your attention ---
1) http://mondovampire.blogspot.com/
2) http://biting-edge.blogspot.com/
3) http://vampirewire.blogspot.com/

MORE TO COME.......READ......ABSORB.....LEARN

SENTIMENTAL PARTINGS IN THE MOOM LIGHT...A VAMPIRINA FINDS HER TRUE PATH

Renate opened her eyes. Dream time was over. She saw shamans chanting 'round glowing embers. She watched cave bears devouring men. And there was no answer...No beacon from above. But she heard a voice. It was a human voice. It was her mother's voice. And it said --- Be not the flood, but the rain. So she knew. She has her response.

Her body rose up from the depths and broke  through the star kissed surface. Irridescent microscopic life forms spangled her hair and skin with ghostly splendor. Save for the moon, she was all alone. Now the Dead Sea is not wide, twenty miles at best. So she swan toward the shore to rejoin the world of the living.

While westward in the Holy City, Jonathon spent time with the newborn, Lailah. They sat on a low, stone wall, encompassing the tomb of a saint. The silver kiss of Selena (poetic name for the moon) caressing every feature. Two handsome night folk, discussing many things. Her father was there too. He heard the promise. He heard the words and he believed them. The Sephardic vampire seemed sincere. And Lailah was so connfused. She needed her own kind. True, even on her own, she'd discovered many things. And Jean-Michel was always close at hand. Yet the spare Armenian cleric could not stand the tears. So he simply let her go, trusting in the power of the others to keep her, at least spiritually, close at hand. Then he gave her a small, ebony Cross. He took it from his own neck and placed it 'round her own. She hugged him. They cried. Indeed, they all cried.

Jonathon said -- Fear not. She may wander far, but (and he touched the fabric over the cleric's heart, but her essence will be here. Speak and she will answer. No 'thing' can seperate you from her.

The man brushed away a tear and said -- Ah, yes. I know.....The words of  'The Dream.' I have been there too. Jonathon embraced him. The night folk lingered for a few heart beats and left. The cleric remained where he was, sitting in the moon light,  lost in thought and prayer.

Renate met them as they rounded the corner. The three vampires, Jean-Michel, Jonathon and his 'gandmother,' surrounded the waif-like young one. And by their power, lifted her up, till they all sublimated through the darkness and disappeared.

Sarah knew. She felt it. But she had other things to do.

Remember the plan? Remember the Great Reconciliation? Two sovereign kingdoms, one called Israel, the other Ishmael. The Brothers side by side. Remember the Peace...The Pax Semetica, for lack of a better term? ...... Well, Sarah remembered. And she had miracles to conjure.......

Perhaps they just may work.........

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

If you like this most unvampire of vampire tales, please spread the word. Tell others. Pass on the key http://vampirewonderland.blogspot.com/  ........ so that they may forge their own links in our chain.......