Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: DOCTOR FRANKLIN'S COMPOUND UNDER THE PHILADELPHIA ...

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: DOCTOR FRANKLIN'S COMPOUND UNDER THE PHILADELPHIA ...: The Anti-Enchantment Bureau is in utter pandemonium. The Delaware River is expected to reach unprecedented levels. The underground compound... This is how they evacuated all the 'special' people back when hurricane Sandy hit. Can't post a new blog thing, 'cause PC acting screwy tonight and it's starting to scare me...(might have seen it all over on Twitter, if you were with us a few minutes ago)... but a real good episode just the same... Click on NEWER POST or OLDER POST down at the bottom if you want to see more. thanks.

Kieran Movie... no vampires, just this ... no fantasy... real life... 7/19/13

Deby Browne, popular Twitter social/political commentator and painter known as @Twit__Trending ... lost her son Kieran recently. She posted this video as a remembrance. Please click the 'Watch on YouTube' line up above (if necessary... not too digitally savvy about these things) to see it. A very positive film and truthfully, a really good video. 

If you want, you can always wander through all the blog posts at browse.feedreader.com/c/Billy_Kravitz_vampire_wonderland ... Thank you

OTHER ANCIENT ROMAN LAMIA SANGUINE (vampires) in the environs of NEAPOLIS (Naples) .. 7/18/13

I saw other life-eaters gliding through the shadows as I made my way about the city. We never spoke and rarely acknowledged each other's presence. They existed to serve their 'clan.' Free vampires were extremely rare in my world. I'm told they exist in the capital and certain other cities. Returning legionnaires report feral pockets out beyond the River Hister (Danube). They travel in packs and are known to decimate remote country hamlets, before travelling on to kill again someplace else. I am glad I am not one of them. 

But occasionally I trade glances with the Lady Eudora. She is a Greek vampire, ostensibly created and trained in the esteemed vampiric academy on the island of Thera. They say it goes back to Minoan times. Imagine, a culture quite as old as Egypt. Her mistress is a wealthy dowager, the surviving wife of a general laid low in the wild, out beyond the walls of Colonia (Cologne) and one of the few female devotees of Mithra. They say she plans to use her vampirina bodyguard to escape death. They have a pact, upon her thirtyfifth birthday, the night-girl brings her over. Conventional men-at-arms, veterans of the late general will witness the event... each one armed with a specially prepared, lead tipped spear. Should Eudora renege, or intentionally kill the mistress outright, those in attendance will dispatch her as well.

The whole thing is very hush-hush and highly illegal. Ruling families are not to dabble in necromancy. That's why certain Jewish sects, such as Christianity are still outlawed. Only Caesar is a god, though the Imperial Cult withers every day. And from what I hear, our great Marcus Aurelius believes in his own divinity about as much as he believes the Cybilline Prophesies. Money makes the world go 'round in ninth century Rome (reckoned from its founding by Romulus and Remus) and only the Jews (plus their variants) harangue us with 'morality.'

I am off to the bear pits, a secret nocturnal pass-time known only to the wealthy. We meet in a cave, hidden deep withing the confines of a large, old edifice, ostensibly a warehouse dating back to the days of Magna Graecia (Greek colonies in the south of Italy concurrent with the birth of Rome farther north). The master knows I go. He does too. And although unorthodox, allows me to revive certain grievously mauled dwarfs with small draughts of my miraculous blood. You know how expensive they are and they who keep 'stables' hate losing favorites. 

The heavy bronze doors to our private sanctum silently swing open, powered by an ingenious hydraulic set-up designed by  a certain engineer out of Syracusa. I cannot tell you his name, for he also creates weapons for the military and they don't want it to get around. Parthian spies are everywhere you know. 

The doorman knows our faces. He nods. We nod. Money changes hands. We go in. I can smell the ursine stench down below. Apparently mortals are not so lucky. Besides dwarfs, they also have children, the vilest of urchins scraped from the sewers and fit for nothing else. I'm looking forward to it. Some of them put up quite a fight.

After the slaughter... a fine wine tasting. And even a vampire like me can appreciate that... 

Ego vobis valedico (Farewell to you all)...
Til next time...
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delve deeper into the labyrinth that is VAMPIRE WONDERLAND, click on ~>ALL THAT THERE IS ... and join me on TWITTER at ~>@wilkravitz ... your COMMENTS are always welcome... 


  

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Post 2 NaNoWriMo for November 2012.. THISD IS THE FIRST POST of what became the BINGO BOY film treatment arc...a GOOD STORY ..7/17/13

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Post 2 NaNoWriMo for, November 2012: Post 2 Now walk-in bingo parlors are a fixture in certain areas, usually cropping up along low level strip malls or struggling old businesses ...  Here's a chance to PEEK in at one of my BEST story arcs... all about crazy, convoluted LOVE in a crooked, hard scrabble walk-in bingo hall. Serves as a novel-like treatment for upcoming screenplay. People seem to LIKE it. I hope you will too. If you want to READ THE WHOLE THING, scroll down til you see 'NEWER POST'and click on it. THANKS and the ANCIENT ROMAN story line will pick up again tomorrow.

I APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT.....

Billy

if you want to look through my whole canon, click on ~>HERE'S THE WHOLE CANON ...and wander through it all. join me on TWITTER at @wilkravitz ... thanks. your COMMENTS are always welcome. 

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Post 2 NaNoWriMo for November 2012.. THISD IS THE FIRST POST of what became the BINGO BOY film treatment arc...a GOOD STORY ..7/17/13

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Post 2 NaNoWriMo for, November 2012: Post 2 Now walk-in bingo parlors are a fixture in certain areas, usually cropping up along low level strip malls or struggling old businesses ...  Here's a chance to PEEK in at one of my BEST story arcs... all about crazy, convoluted LOVE in a crooked, hard scrabble walk-in bingo hall. Serves as a novel-like treatment for upcoming screenplay. People seem to LIKE it. I hope you will too. If you want to READ THE WHOLE THING, scroll down til you see 'NEWER POST'and click on it. THANKS and the ANCIENT ROMAN story line will pick up again tomorrow.

I APPRECIATE YOUR SUPPORT.....

Billy

if you want to look through my whole canon, click on ~>HERE'S THE WHOLE CANON ...and wander through it all. join me on TWITTER at @wilkravitz ... thanks. your COMMENTS are always welcome. 

SEA LAMPREYS OF IMPERIAL ROME...a loathsome way to die... 7/16/13

The master gave me my first commission. I was to kill a certain corrupt (well... more corrupt) upstart noble by the name of Claudius Nesso. Why the master hated him is immaterial, since it always comes down to the same two things, either a social slight, or something about money. Romans have been known to destroy complete strangers for accidentally splashing piss on them in a public latrine. You know they wear those voluminous togas.  Powerful individuals keep cadres of bully-boys. And the bully-boys have specialties. Some are  throat slashers. Others are skull smashers, or disembowellers. Penis and scrotum removing is quite popular too. But blood drainers are the best... and I am honored to be one. 

The Nesso family had a huge villa up in the hills. The current wife, a mostly Celtic thing (as am I) from Cisalpine Gaul, never took to the 'southern' feel of the place and the cooler, less crowded uplands seemed more lugubrious and healthful. The place is festooned with fountains and pools. It looks like a distillation of Hadrian's villa scaled down (ever so slightly) for those who are merely insanely rich as opposed to actual Olympian offspring with almost as much money as their divine progenitors. 

So I found myself a shadowy glade right behind the statue of Bacchus and I waited. He swims there, in a nearby pool, with likely young slaves. The site's far enough from the main structure to salve the current wife's dignity. Plus he occasionally chokes one to death (the slave.. not the wife, I mean) and bare, little, servile bodies strewn about the central apartments would just be a needless distraction.

I saw him lead a choice, little morsel down to the tiled edge. He unfastened the leash and collar (made from the finest Anatolian silver) and kicked him in. I assumed it was a 'him.' couldn't get a good look in the dark. Wasn't used to the vampiric vision yet. Then the fat bastard jumped in after. Not that he was obese or anything. Just sloppy. You know, these Romans ape the Greeks so much, but when it comes to basic body maintenance, they're just plain lazy. 

I let him play around a bit. The slave didn't seem too upset. Then I silently slipped into the water and grabbed him by the legs. Had my teeth locked into his ass before he knew what hit him. Oh, he never surfaced, not even for an instant. And maybe ten score heartbeats later he was dead. The slave, a rather androgynous female, or perhaps a completely castrated male (very popular these days, I'm told), screamed and ran when the pool lit up with a flickering blue light.... for the fiery immolation occurs, even under water. I must admit, the hot blood contrasted against the chilly, pool water was absolutely delicious. And the master was so pleased with my professionalism he immediately put his people to work on a cozy, little addendum to his palace just for me.... My peculum (money/treasure earned by certain high ranking slaves) was beginning to grow.

Though I forgot one thing... When a slave kills his master... and the grieving daughters and sons-in-law of Nesso blamed the wet, quivering pool buddy for his 'murder.'... the offending piece of property is summarily thrown to the eels. Every wealthy Roman has an eel pond. Actually, they use the word 'eel,' but the creatures in question are really primitive lampreys..... like giant, aquatic earthworms who just think they're fish. No jaws, just a large, tooth-lined sucker where a mouth should be (maybe a sharp, bony tongue too). And this pond had hundreds. 

The young slave sobbed like a baby, as they kissed his skin and began to devour his flesh. I watched from the shadows, far beyond the yellow torch lights and felt guilty... or as guilty as anyone in our convoluted society ever gets...

But not to worry... for two days hence they had a new slave....
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wander through more than 700,000 words at ~>THE PLACE WHERE paranormal IS normal ... and join me on TWITTER at~>@wilkravitz ... your COMMENTS are very welcome too.  

JANUS IN THE ESTEEMED CITY OF NEAPOLIS ... the vampire adjusts ...7/15/13

Neapolis is a special place. I know you hear me from far away. They tell me it is the future and that may be true. But I find that hard to believe, for even a vampire recognizes the limits of necromancy. Yet a part of me knows that it's so. And if I lapse from present to past tense, please know that it is only an indication of my confusion, coupled with the fact that Latin is not my mother tongue, for I originally spoke a Celtic dialect and often think in that language to this day.

I'm also told you see my words in a mongrel jargon, called Angle-ish, made up of Germanic phraseology leavened with basic Latin. Is that a hint of days to come in these parts? For primitives from the north press us even now.

Now let me tell you more about this city. Neapolis is among the most Hellenistic of all Roman municipalities. Indeed, the place goes back to heroic times. You know... Agamemnon and Homer... those Minoan snake priestesses and all that. Most of the better families still speak Greek. And the subtle beauty of that ancient land infuses everything with a simple elegance unseen in other parts of our world. Emperors come here to relax. Wealthy young, scions acquire polish at our academies. Neapolitan brides are welcomed into the finest and most influential clans in Rome. I like this place. I can't deny it. I do. 

They dress me in the finest linen. I wear scant, somewhat revealing, one shouldered tunics and under garments are hard to come by. But nights are warm and the freedom suits me. I wander the streets on my own. Those familiar with the practice see my torque and immediately recognize me for what I am. But they bow with a deference shown only to those of high rank. If this is slavery, it is bondage of a strange sort. 

Last night I dined alfresco... up on the rooftop terrace. Circassian women are quite expensive. I had two... young and plump and juicy. The master and his consort, my benefactors, invited some of their nearest and dearest to watch me drink. I didn't mind. For as you know, I am quite the showman and soothed the terrified maidens with kisses, strokes and tickles before finishing them off. The second one required a bit more tickling, since she knew what was coming and those in attendance clapped at my technique. I bowed by the light of the cool blue flames, as the smooth, fleshy girls were consumed and disappeared. Then I kissed each lady present and made them giggle. The master was very pleased. 

At the close of the occasion, as everyone prepared to leave, he called me over and told me who to kill. Not there. Not then. Not that night, but tomorrow.

And please know that I do not impart a cruel death. Indeed, by the morals of the times, I am quite benign. We had no 'feed the hungry... love thy neighbor... clothe the naked.'... Well, most of us anyway.

The fates are capricious and I but a tool.
(more tomorrow...)
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see more episodes. click~>PARANORMAL FOR SMARTIES ... join me on TWITTER at @wilkravitz ... your COMMENTS are always welcome. thank you.