TOMAS DOESN'T WANT TO COOPERATE ON A BLOG TONIGHT, BUT HE TELLS US THIS... 12/8/13

Immortal souls experience a certain type of occasional, nagging ennui. We do not want to talk to anyone, or drain the blood from anyone or slit the throat of anyone or martyr anyone. A time to sit in small, dark rooms and doze... Not sleep, but just wander and maybe contemplate and explore. So I am going to do that. It is I, Tomas.

But I will tell you this......

Once, in a remote Ottoman province I saw a local potentate raised to the rank of imperial governor employ a certain rare and intriguing torture device. We sat on low, plush divans, eating the choicest dates and sweetmeats. Well, he did. I didn't, though I did enjoy a cold, fresh, crisp vodka-like distillation made from turnips and specially bred garden slugs. 

Unfortunate individuals were brought in, deprived of their clothing and made to sit in the 'funny' seat. a large, squarely built, throne-like chair bristling with small, but lethal, razor sharp blades. And just like spike-lined fakirs' beds, everything was honky-dory so long as movement was kept to a minimum. But the potentate/governor was a connoisseur of exquisite tortures, thus he liked to shake things up a bit.

Now the seat was canted back. In order to get up the subject must, theoretically, focus all weight on their hands and thighs... the back part of their thighs, immediately shredding them to bits.... not to mention other tender parts as well. Few ever tried. But they did not have to...

After a bit the potentate clapped his hands summoning a jester of some sort. The entertaining gentleman attired in a ridiculous assortment of colorful silk braids, belts and ripped shreds of cloth capered about spouting profane and obviously much loved 'dirty' jokes... classics among the residents round about. The victim in the 'funny' seat tried not to laugh, but resistance was futile. And the reflexive movements caused cuts and slices to open up all along his nether regions. 

Oh, I could see it in the eyes. They didn't want to laugh and some were able to stave off such rumblings. But when that happened the potentate clapped again, producing a tittering band of nubile 'honey' girls wielding colorful feather pom-poms on the ends of long, thin bamboo sticks. They used these weapons like rapiers, tickling the victim all over, thus hastening his laughing death. The blood poured like olive oil freed from a press, running down the body and into a finely polished copper pan.

Afterwards he gave it to me, but failed to understand my penchant for live food.

Though I did like they show..... That's all you'll get out of me tonight. Go do something constructive. tell your friends... leave a comment. thank you...

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TOMAS LIKES A PRODUCT HE SAW ON SHARK TANK.. BAYLAH WANTS TO GO TO PRESIDENT MANDELA'S FUNERAL... 12/7/13

The townhouse is really quite a comfortable refuge. It's not overly imposing from the street (more like an old lane, or mews), just wide enough to let in adequate light. But seeing as most residents are nocturnal, that's not such a big deal. In case you're not familiar with classical Philadelphia residential architecture, I'll describe it. Each floor had four primary rooms. Two face front and two face back. There are smaller spaces, storage rooms, studies and the like, bathrooms, 'safe' rooms and secret rooms. The third floor, a rather charming arrangement of tiny dormered cubicles with light-tight shutters and cozy sleeping dens. The vampires actually prefer sleeping up under the roof. It's quieter and dryer. Should they feel threatened, retreat to the cellar is possible. The walls are stone, painted white. The floor slate covered. There's a deep, raw earth crypt under a heavy, granite slab, filled with perhaps sixteen inches of fragrant rose petals. Tomas and Sarah occasionally sleep down there. Some type of basic simple machinery moves the slab. This lowest level is a second cellar. What we would call a 'sub-basement.' The ghost of the little polio victim sometimes frequents the place, but not always. Sarah leaves little toys for him. The first cellar, finished in a similar manner, has a pantry and a little sitting room, plus what used to be staff housing in the old days. The first cellar has windows. The second cellar does not. And the entrance to the deepest level is via a ladder accessed through a trapdoor in the floor of an ordinary closet. I've never listed them, but I think counting greater and lesser spaces there are approximately twenty two or twenty four rooms in all. Stroll through Society Hill and other nearby neighborhoods. You'll see others like it. The difference being this one fronts a narrow, secluded lane. Oh, and a man from Robertson's comes down once every seven to ten days to change the rose petals. Does he know who lives here? What do you think? The kitchen opens up to a nice cozy garden in the back, but you're already familiar with that.

Now let me go on. Tomas watched television tonight. He likes Shark Tank. Always roots for the little guys. Says if he wasn't so moral he'd slip into Los Angeles and slurp the life out of those inhuman, self-serving bastards. And it's a wonder some local vampire with just a hint of social justice hasn't already done the same thing. Tonight he liked the hat people... two young men possessed of a business that makes dashing hoods and head coverings meant to imitate shamanistic disguises used in ancient, pre-hunt rituals. At least that's how they look to me. Though I must say they are very flattering in a primitive, Cro Magnon sort of way.... fluffy, (thankfully) faux fur, handsome, erect ears and in some cases, leonine paws meant to sereve as mittens. He contacted them earlier via Twitter, but they didn't know who or what he was. Here, I'll give you a clickable link~> spirithoods.com ... I hope it works.

Baylah wants to go to the funeral, President Mandela's, I mean. Not just because she's African, for her people were Ashanti and Tuareg and in no way related to the various kingdoms and feudal holdings of the south. But she just thinks the occasion is important enough to warrant a vampire presence. Tomas said - Don't you think some local night-folk will be there? And besides, official observances will be diurnal , thus baring your presence altogether..... Baylah said - I know that. But as a daughter of Timbuctu and a princess of Old Mali, I belong there. One royal to another. I want to pay my respects. And if I must wait out the sun time in some sheltered place, so be it. His spirit will still be thereabout and he will sense my presence. 

Edith could see she was worked up about this. Perhaps because she was once a slave, while the great departed soul was both the Moses and Joshua of his people. So she lit some green apple candles to calm things. 

Tomas said - I'll have my travel man ( a familiar) arrange it all.... Baylah said - You don't have to do that. I have familiars of my own.... Then she curled up in the chair and silently watched the fire.... a princess in repose.

I myself am yet another unidentified disembodied spirit and I'd like to keep it that way. Let the others share their names. Such displays are not for me. Good night, for I must leave...

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The Lion Sleeps Tonight - The Von Trapp Singers (Music Video) ... that willkravitz (we know it's really Billy Kravitz) who blogs for the vampires has a tie in to this... 12/6/13

Baylah's back at the piano bar. She and the genteel drunks was watchin' The Sound of Music tonight. Piano player still there. He don't sing though, not loud anyway. Plays along to songs in the show. Genteel drunks all hum. You know a lot a dopes thing Eidelweis really IS the Austrian national anthem? And the other dopes who disagree think it's Throw The Jew Down The Well... Maybe not that song, but something just like it.

They watched that show at the townhouse too, 'cause wilkravitz' mother played Sister Margareta on stage. Stage nuns got to sing more. Talked a little more too. Everybody in showbusiness served time with them Von Trapps. Think it like a 'union' thing. Sarah likes that story. She go - Awww.... Cries when they sing Climb Every Mountain too. Tomas say he knowed vampire nuns in Europe, back in the day. Vampire monks too. Used to let their hounds lick up the left over grease after victim burn up. Some a them dogs get vampire-ish too. Them what's in charge don't care 'cause vampire dog don't crap on no floor no more. Then Tomas sing us Gregorian chant. It like old time gospel for them what ain't got no rhythm. This Mister Never You Mind talkin'. I had a brother got himself catched by them Nazis. Jazz man over in that Europe place. Think he in Paris. Everybody say - What you care? No Nazi gone come over here.... But they do come. They come real fast when nobody lookin'. You know French people is easily distracted, 'cause they always doing stuff, like diggin' snails out a they shells, or washin' they cootchies in toilet sinks an' all. When Nazis do come, they start grabbin' folks. Most get sent to camps, 'cept they not really camps, 'cause ain't got no trampolines or weenie roasts. They just waitin' rooms for gettin killed. Lucky folks get gassed. Make 'em breathe in acid crap in big old garages full a naked cryin' people. Spit up lung meat, blood and all. L'il kids too. Them what not lucky burnt up in pits. Make 'em lie down. Shoot 'em up a little. Dowse 'em with gasoline. Drop a match an' go WHOOSH. Folks shriek and scream an' all. Shake a lot. Naked part the same, but rest of it completely different. African folk what got catched not go to camp. Army guy shoot 'em up a back alley. That what they do to my brother. He a disembodied spirit too. But I think he workin' Hawaii.

After show wilkravitz say it alright if night-folk wanna go out killin' folks. He doan care, 'cause Edith make a sweet potato pie an' he want some. Conrad say he want them little suede pants like Nazi boy got. He not no Nazi. He jus' like 'em. Leo tell him to go to hell.

Tomas start speechifyin' in Vahmperigo, but nobody know what he say, 'cause they not know old time vampire talk an' he the only one can read minds. He 'memberin' when them old time Nazis, them 'Crusaders' try an' burn him. Thousand year later he still dream 'bout it. Nobody like a get burnt up. I know, 'cause I an expert on that.

Later, when vampires do go out (not to kill folks. They doan always do that) wilkravitz get his pie an' he glad he watch that show, 'cause his mama once in it back in the day and all.

Got some Von Trapp kids singin' down below. Go look. If you wanna read more a our pixilated stuff, click on this ~> MORE PIXILATED STUFF and this for Twitter ~> WHERE BILLY KRAVITZ IS ... please leave COMMENTS 'cause we loves them too. Now go see them Austrian, yodelin' kids. 

THEY FISHED A DEAD BODY OUT OF THE RIVER.... 12/5/13

Leo and Conrad, the newest vampires, go everywhere. They wander around the city like tourists taking in everything. Some nights they go see shows. Tomas has a 'familiar,' a press agent for a couple Center City theaters and he gets them tickets. Nobody ever gives them a second look. Conrad wears his Dockers. Leo comes off a bit edgier, but... so do a lot of people. They really love musicals. Conrad sang that 'Gravity' song for weeks. Leo wants to be the guy from Grease.  Vampires ain't no different than you or me. They just crazy.

Walnut Street Theater's a favorite, because it has the most ghosts. And if you go there, don't pee when the toilets are empty, 'cause you might really see something. They got a smashed-in-head guy what staggers through. Fell from the rigging two hundred years ago when them English heaved bombs into Philadelphia during one a them easy to remember wars what got the date in it. War of 1812, I think it was. He got half his jaw broke off. You can see like all the glands and spongy part. Ghost blood all over him. One eye look like a hangin' earring. Moans too. Walk right through you if he want, even if you takin' a crap. He don't care. 
One time a principal from Trenton, New Jersey die right on the toilet. But his ghost not there, 'cause he got a real bossy daughter an' she won't let him. Made him go live in her family room an' he don't like it, 'cause dog stink up the sofa too much. You know enchanted souls all got real highly developed sense a smell. That's why our vampires like them aroma candles and all.

This night Leo and Conrad walk down by the river. They don't go to the docks, or the piers, or the promenades. They go all the way down to the muddy part where you get wet. Cops was fishin' out a body. It all white and bleached and bloated. Look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, but with fingers and toes and a much more sadder and scrunched up face.  Ain't got no hair, 'cept for a few wispy-wisps. That 'cause crayfish chew it up.  Don't know what kind a doo-dads it got. Stomach too swelled up. Look like Peter Griffin when he get naked and all. Look like rubber... like a baby beluga, but not cute. Cop say it probably got itself killed, 'cause it naked and all. That make it hard to identify. Leo say it look like guy from the WaWa.  That a Philadelphia convenience store. Got good take-out too. Vampires buy hoagies over there. Not for them. They give it to homeless folks. But when they go by WaWa later, guy's still there an' he not even wet. Plus he ain't naked, or nothin'. So body not him. 

Lot a dead folk layin' 'round this place. Graveyards like McDonald's back in the day. Folks don't want their people what pass on movin' too far away. So they start dead farms all over. Place fill up, they start a new one. Sometime when even grand kids is dead folks forget who even buried there. That when they sell the place. Don't relocate the tenants. Tombstones disappear, though. They say lot of 'em got theyselves buffed off. Used 'em for front steps in South Philadelphia. So kids what stay up late on warm summer nights sittin' outside and talkin' got they butt-checks on some dead guy's one-time monument. 

Jus' found whole mess a dead folk holed up under a grade school. Say three thousand under playground in North Philadelphia. Actually, playground fill a laughin' kids nice place to get buried, provided you dead an' all. Not-dead folks not so happy.

Leo rip open neck of drunk guy on Bainbridge Street. Don't know if he got no 'vision' and all. He not strict like Tomas an' some a them other ones. Leo say it alright 'cheatin'' with drunk guys., 'cause they don't know. He hate drunk folk, 'cause his daddy used a be one. Conrad grab drunk guy's wallet 'fore 'cold' blue flame get it. Wanna mail it to his family. But Leo grab it back an' call him a 'schmuck.' Got like seventy one bucks in it. Buy hisself new underwears  at an all-night underwears store. You know you gotta have special licence you wanna run one a them.

Then they jus' go home.... Edith watchin' Celtic Women. They like Barbie dolls what know how to sing. Conrad say 'Hi.' Leo say 'Hi.' Edith say - Shhh, I watchin' somethin'. One a them Celtic Women sing 'It Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas.'..... Tomas and Sarah still out.  Leo and Conrad climb upstairs an' go to sleep. 

Leo doze right off, but Conrad say his prayers. That how he is.

Oh, an; corpse what got fished out a river... he want me to tell you his name 'Jeffery.'

Good night.

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TURN! TURN! TURN! (Lyrics) - THE BYRDS... the Vampire Known as Tomas likes this... 12/3/13

Still, Tomas is, after all, a vampire and that means he has to kill... not always, but sometimes. This night is one of those times. He had a vision. They come to him, you know, roughly once a month. Often tied to the phases of the moon, though not always. He saw a face and felt a soul, so he rose from his place, prepared himself and left. Edith saw him go, but she said nothing and went back to scrambling her eggs. Mortal housekeepers, even Jersey Pine Barrens 'witchy' ones, need food, you know.  And Sarah, his consort, just slept, preferring to rise a bit later. Younger night-folk are like that. The purple light at dusk frightens them, even powerful newborns like her. So she stayed in the warm. safe cubicle and dozed.

Most nights Tomas is very particular. He likes the way he looks... black jeans... black bootkins... white shirt. When it's cold he wears a trim, long sleeved silk, t-shirt thing under it, but just for comfort. Chills don't threaten him.

Tonight he didn't care so much.... blue jeans.... a turtle neck... knit cap pulled down low over his brow and ears... How small and delicate his face looked. An eighteen year old 'mortal' face. When he turned the collar up on his leather jacket, you hardly saw him. So he walked the streets, hands thrust deep in his pockets, warm muffler 'round his neck. Sometimes he liked the cold. This time he didn't. 

The girl was lonely. Her apartment was cold. The furniture worn and sparse. She couldn't afford any better. The guy at the bar and grill... really a nice, little place...more like a restaurant, used to let her sing. She liked that. But then he died and his nephew, the new guy, liked piano players.  He liked Briana too (she was the other hostess)and made her into a sort of assistant manager. Eight weeks ago they had a meeting... cut the staff. Fired a few people. The lonely girl was one of them. She tried to get a job at the internal revenue office, but the woman told her they weren't hiring now. She tried selling her blood, but the woman at the blood place told her she had shitty blood. I don't know if that was what she said, but look, what the hell difference does it make? Had a checking account. Not much. Was like twenty eight hundred dollars in it. Most of that came from selling the furniture. Her mother had a real good dining room set. Henredon mid century I think it was. Died two years ago. Now she had nobody. No, really, nobody. Not even cousins. Mother taught school... small building. Had two lady friends. They came over for a while, but one moved to Florida and the other one died too. Fell over a broken balustrade at the mall. Like a railing or a barrier it was. Just like one a them almost pope guys from The Da Vinci Code... all dead and splayed on a cold, shiny marble floor with dark, red blood juice poolin''round her head. Made all the papers. Her kids sued for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Got one point one million. Walked away with five hundred and fifty thousand. Lawyer walked away with the rest and his mom was still livin'. Wonder what he'll grab when she goes...

Lonely girl wants to kill herself. Ain't got no boyfriend. She looks alright, but she's one of those pathetic things. Real quiet. Don't say much. Neighbor was gonna help her put her songs up on You Tube, but he lied. 

And Tomas knew he couldn't save her. Might give her some blood. Get her to take a drop or two. Fix her up a little. But her spirit was gone. She was dead already. She really was. It wasn't clinical depression. Clinic got nothing to do with it. This was just a nice, quiet, sheltered girl who didn't feel safe anymore. And she just wanted to go home. So Tomas was gonna send her. ... Not like he didn't have a vision. 

Sublimated through the front door. Went up two flights. Sublimated through another door. Little dog in the next apartment whined, 'cause it knew what he was. Could hear it right through the wall. Place was dusty. Sad people like dust, 'specially when the shades is down. 

Lonely girl all curled up on the bed. Got blankets all around her. Head all covered up. Nose stickin' out. Not just her nose, but like her mouth and her chin too. Long as she livin' she might as well breathe..... Tomas go over. Don't even take off his cap. Sets himself down on the bed. Touch her head. Vampire tell a lot by head-touchin'. He know she wanna die. Not 'cause she wanna be eternally unconscious. She jus' wanna be someplace else. So he do it. He help her. He kill her. Don't take long, 'cause she so puny an' all. An' the blood do taste good.  He try not to think about it, but it do.

Then he wait til the blue flame come and burn her all up. Not the bed. Not the blanket. Just her. Blue flame funny that way. Little dog next door bark some. Must smell it all. Actually, it a real nice dog. Wants a yard real bad. 

Tomas sublimate through exterior bedroom wall ('cause he don't wanna see nobody). Rise up to the rooftop and run away.

When she die, jus' before she drift off, girl say 'thank you.' It just a whisper, but that's okay

Later on, back at the townhouse, Sarah bleed him a little. She cut his finger tips with razor blades and collect  what drip out in empty, glass, sample perfume vials. Gonna use it to help folks live. 

That's how it is...... Life goes on..

Cue the song~~>

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The Vampire Tomas Shares Holiday Memories of His Mortal Years... 12/2/13

He woke with a start. The old, leather bound copy of Dickens fell to the floor. Sarah woke too. She set put down the magazine and sighed. ... It'll be dawn soon - she said. Time for us to sleep.... But Tomas didn't answer. He just sat there staring at the aquarium and the simple life forms in it.... I had a dream - he said. Not so much a fantastical construct, as most dreams are, but a recollection of times past.... He stretched and yawned. Vampires still do those things. Not in need of oxygen, but just because they do.... Sarah quietly asked - What did you remember?.... I remembered my youth, my childhood actually. We were at the villa. The Granada place I think it was. No, Cordoba. I remember the fountain. Cordoba, it was Cordoba. And the household was preparing for The Feast of The Re-Dedication. 'Hanukah,' but that's just the Hebrew word for it. We opened the spring wine, nine months old by then and ready to drink. Groundsmen gathered greens from the hills. Not so much evergreens, but eucalyptus-like things. I suppose they're evergreens too. But you know what I mean. It's funny, but they brought greens into the house. We all did. And this was centuries before Trinitarians did the like for their Feast of The Incarnation, because it said so in The Book of Maccabees. 'They brought fresh boughs from the hills to cleanse The Temple and make it clean.' Well, there was no Temple, so we did it in our homes.  My sisters tied them with ribbons, all manner of vivid silks and damasks. They brought them in from The East, you know, by sea and overland across North Africa..... Sarah smiled to see him so animated. She said - Let's sleep now. You can tell me tomorrow night..... But he hardly heard her, for the dream was so vivid, a gift, a special thing and he wanted to share it... No, no, I'm alright. We have time - he said..... And she hugged him, as he continued - The dumplings. I remember the dumplings. 'Empanadas' in my tongue. Filled with beef and lamb and mushrooms. All manner of savory. Deep fried they were and so good. Odd, I still remember that, but the dream was so real. (he stopped for a moment) It's like I was there. 'And Papa Mattathias rose up in his alabaster chariot, flying across the great River Sambation, drawn by Boaz the Swift ( a white unicorn), as he proclaimed to the faithful ' The Temple is saved! Rejoice in the Help of The Lord!' Then we lit the candles and sang the songs. They gave us little velvet, drawstring bags filled with coins, nuts and sweetmeats. 'Papa Mattathias sent them' they said. And we believed it..... He laughed. Tomas laughed and Sarah joined him.

It felt good to renounce the night-world for a bit. Some vampires feel no need. But the one called Tomas, also known as Jonathon does. The Hanukah Tale always figured large in his family. De Macabeus, from the Hebrew 'ben Macabi' was their name. Some kinsmen claimed descent from the original Maccabees, 'stars' of two scriptural books they are. Papa Mattathias, first hereditary priest (rather like prince-bishops of a later age) to confront the pagans was their father. Imagine having Santa Claus for a 'pop-pop.' But this particular vampire, in a sense did.

We could have skipped this part. Just cut it out. And gone on to the next bit of blood-letting drama. But this is more than a novel, or an on-going romance. This is true. This night happened. This is real... And we thought you'd like to know.

A few heartbeats later Sarah straightened up the space. Given the truncated size of the room it didn't take much. She put away the book, closed the magazine and fluffed the cushions. Then she helped a dream intoxicated Tomas to his feet, turned off the small, porcelain, ginger jar lamp and led him out of the room. 

An angel fish looking on from the carefully arranged aquarium mouthed a mute 'goodnight,' as the left.

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The Vampire Couple Tomas and Sarah Just talk to Each Other ...... 12/1/13

They sat together in a tiny warm, room off the kitchen. I suppose it used to be a housekeeper's office, or something like that. Edith doesn't use it. She has a desk in the actual kitchen with a  lap-top. Not that she's an expert, but she can do simple things. Her chores are not to ornery. especially in a home where few people really eat. 

Tomas and Sarah like this sheltered space. They sit on the love-seat and talk. The curtains are drawn. It's quiet. Old prints in thick ivory mattes and neat, black frames line the walls. They face a console table supporting a ten gallon aquarium. Small neon tetras dart about in the clear, oxygenated water. A man comes in bi-weekly to keep it so. The rich green plants are especially nice. And slow moving angel fish provide a welcome contrast to their nervous, brightly hued brethren. The lights are low... a small. porcelain, ginger jar lamp... a subtle blue glow from the self-contained water world. Sometimes they read in there, but this time they don't.

Sarah talks about the poor couple from the coffee shop. She says - I did it. I got them to take the blood. Do you want to know what I did?....... Tomas does know. He's fairly telepathic. Most vampires get that way after a certain time, but he likes to hear her voice, so he nods.... She goes - Cordials, cherry cordials. Not the cheap ones. Not the dollar ninety nine ones from the drug store, the good ones from the confectioner's on Nineteenth Street. I remember them from before, when I was still mortal. Not too sweet. Just good. So I sent a box. Made like it was a gift. There's an old lady who goes in there every night. Gets almost the same dinner every time. She sits. She talks with them. They talk to her. They like her. I signed her name on the card. When they thank her and they will. She won't know. She's ninety one years old. She's forgetful. Probably just say 'you're welcome,' and blush a little. But I had the girl in the back, at the confectioner's, I mean, inject them. I gave her the vials. She knows what they are., because I gave her one when she was sick. She's like a 'familiar,' No, she IS a 'familiar.' She's MY familiar...... Tomas hugged her, as she added - I walked by there last night and went in. got a coffee. Sat and watched. He came in near closing like always and I could tell. I could see it. They were better. And so's the mother and so's the other one. They must have had some too. I'm just glad it worked..... She stared at the fish and smiled. He kissed her.

Then he said - You, my dear, are a true vampirina, a good soul, a light in the darkness. Imagine, before The Inquisition, that's how they saw us. That's what we were. That's what we did. Most of us are still like that... Most.... But she knew what he meant. Some night-folk after years and years and years of the same lies start to believe it. They doubt. They grow fearful and tragically, allow themselves to be defined by their enemies.

Tomas - she said. What about 'the magic?' A few nights ago you had it all figured out. Now what?....... I don't know - he whispered. Ask me tomorrow and I'll know again. Ask me the week after and... he shook his head..... Remember when we were in London at that 'Hermetic Order of The Golden Dawn' house, or whatever it was? I knew then. Imagine, meeting Marcus Aurelius and all..... How about Mister Old Bones? A Neanderthal vampire. What about that? - she said. ... He just nodded and stared at the fish.

Maybe two hundred heartbeats later Edith came in with warm cider. Vampires like that. Cinnamon-apple flavors and aromas are a big thing to them. Then he lounged back and began to read, an old leather-bound copy of Dickens, I think it was. Sarah thumbed through an impossibly thick, glossy fashion magazine, but then she dozed. The little ghost boy, the polio victim, from the cellar came in to see the fish. Tomas smiled at him. The ghost boy likes the fish and they seem to like him too.

Maybe tomorrow night our vampires will take to the streets and save the world once again. But not tonight.

Sometimes they just sit and rest...

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