search VIDEOS OF TARANTULAS KILLING PREY on YOU TUBE.. That's What Tomas Faces.. 10/6/14

The title says it all. I wanted to include a video right here. I forced myself to look at some, but they're too shocking. So I'll leave it up to you. Search videos of huge tarantulas brutally killing prey... if you're not prone to nightmares. The choice is yours.  Tomas is the prey and the nine foot long, thick legged arachnid thing is the hunter. Here's how it played out...

The thing lunged. Tomas ran. Whatever part of his vampiric nature carried over to this strange place kicked in and he 'disappeared' behind a huge (to him) thick support beam. But spiders are fast too. They don't move like you, or I. Arthropod muscular contractions are sharp and instantaneous.... Ever watch a dinner-plate spider devour a bird? Imagine what that poor feathered thing goes through, locked in a hard, cold embrace more hellishly alien and inhuman than any vampire.

Tomas flattened himself against the rough wood surface, straining to see in the near black, crawl space gloom. He heard the muffled footfalls. He felt them. But where was it? He couldn't tell. The dirt surface diffused each impact, like a soft, quiet echo coming from every place at once. But he smelled the dried blood scabbed all over its body... a sick, rancid bacon-like aroma gleaned from the piercings of other tiny, 'human' victims. Strange meat in this part of the omniverse.

So he ran. He just took off and ran, zig-zagging from one support to the next, like a pachinko game in hell. But in this not quite mortal, not quite vampire state Tomas gave off heat and spiders are sensitive to warmth. So it got him in a corner and that was it. The beast just stood there. Thin tendrils of vapor snaking up from tiny 'nostrils' running down the sides of its huge hairy abdomen. Each fang danced independently, as the mechanistic brain picked an angle of attack. Exactly two and a half nano seconds later it jumped, pinning him 'neath its body in a twitching, eight legged cage.

Tomas froze, as it quickly pivoted left and right, deciding how to do it. Stiff, quill-like hairs raked his face and snagged his skin. Then it hit. The left fang cracked two ribs and pierced a lung. The right fang tore his stomach... twin spears of hard, needle sharp, keratin, opened his body, freeing the blood. How odd for a vampire to end like that.

But he was a vampire. He was.  And he tapped into the ether, drawing in its energy, focusing his powers for one explosive thrust. Then he instantaneously rocketed up through the beast, pulverizing its 'head.' as he sublimated toward freedom. What was left of the giant arachnid quivered before him. Arthropod bodies survive quite a while without a head. There was life in the old girl yet. So Tomas threw himself on the pulsating abdomen, crunched through the loathsome surface and drank in what he found. Animal blood is not human blood. And vampires cannot live on it indefinitely. But at times like this any food would do.

Then he pulled his head from the dead monstrosity, picked bits of shell from his hair and cleaned his body with handfuls of the coarse, sand-like dirt.

After a short rest, lying stretched out upon the cool surface, he looked up toward the barely visible sub-flooring, focused his abilities once again and sublimated through, into the rooms where the dog things lived.

From a hidden spot behind a potted plant (a giant oak to him) he saw them at their meal, piercing  live and screaming others like himself with long, silver skewers, which they deftly plucked clean with their sharp canid teeth...

<more next time>

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Odin Eating Like a Person. ..Giant Canines Tomas Encountered Were More Dignified ... 10/5/14

Tomas was in another place. His experience was quite different and the monstrously enlarged, canine creatures he encountered were another thing all together. First of all, it took him two days and nights, skittering along the icy, huge ruts left by the immense sleigh to reach their destination, a large, country, manor house as might be found in UNCLE VANYA or novels like it.


I don't know why he wasn't menaced by proportionately accurate wildlife along the way. Perhaps something of his fundamental vampire nature oozed out and repelled them. I mean the stegosaurus sized squirrel and possum-like things watching from the 'Parting Of The Red Sea' sized hedgerows.  But he found a small, break in the mortar between two bricks in the foundation and and squeezed through, dropping down onto a dirt surface roughly eighteen inches below. To him, that was like nine feet. Fortunately this part of the manor house didn't have a full basement or he wouldn't have been able to do that. Crawl spaces were easier. Tomas ran over and scaled a support beam. Splinters were like daggers, but vampirinos are by nature careful, so after a bit he came up under a seam in the subflooring, maybe one eighth of an inch wide to the giant canines within, but more or less equal to four and a half inches in his world. So he stuck his ear up into the space and listened..... Cutlery, there was the sound of cutlery..... fine tableware against costly china. And conversation. He heard conversation. Not human voices. Of course they were louder. Maybe not much louder, just deeper and more resonant. And with a lilting , or a rolling sound, like when Springer Spaniels vocalize.  To a human, even a vampire human, the effect was positively hypnotic.  But he couldn't get through. The seam was too tight and the actual hardwoods above the subflooring made it impossible. So he climbed down and searched for another way.... That's when it saw him.....


Everything in this world was larger than our world (and by 'world' I mean universe) by a factor of thirty six. Boudoir lamps were fifty two feet high and cigars were long as Cadillacs. The thing that focused on Tomas was over sized too.... an arachnid analog nine feet long... a 'vampire' of another kind, with black, shiny fangs like carving knives. He could see the eyes glinting in the dark, eight onyx paperweights, arranged in a row above the oral cavity. This monstrous depravity had no qualms about sucking the life from him. There was nothing paranormal about it. Just a loathsome, mechanistic 'bug' reeking of sulfur and mold and God knows what else, out for an easy meal.... To completely drain a vampire is to kill him.


And Tomas didn't want to die again.


So while dogs as tall as campaniles dined on live, bare, little humans, struggling to climb from a previously warmed, crater-like, communal, silver bowl, a similar drama played out down below. Only instead of skewering each wriggling tidbit on long, thin, pointed picks, the stiff haired, hard carapaced nightmare used its fangs... not to mention the two, sharp claws at the ends of its eight, manic legs.


It jumped. Tomas flinched.


The chase was on...


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The Vampire Tomas Falls Through A Thin Brittle Membrane ... 10/3/14

Tomas wandered through the dark, mossy cemetery. The air was cool and damp, with just a bit of old bone smell around the edges. Vampires like that smell, because it's indicative of long forgotten sepulchres and silent, black retreats. True, our hero formerly sheltered in more commodious surroundings. But times change and so did he.

A tiny rabbit hopped along the path. If he'd taken the time for a closer look, Tomas would have seen its human face.... neither male, nor female, or young, or old... just human. But he did, absentmindedly begin to follow. And that's when things began to change. Trees stretched up toward the stars. Stars grew large as camel eyes. He could see monstrous flares around their edges. And the strangely white, pre-dawn clouds arced out toward Byzantium. 

Then the world grew smaller still. Pebbles became mountains and garden slugs swallowed kingdoms. The very atoms in the air pelted him like sleet.  Next came light... a multitude of incandescences, issuing forth from every point and trailing off to nowhere.

Soon even that disappeared and he hung suspended in a charcoal grey void, more vast (in its way) than all the Pleiades, a trillion times over. Seconds equaled eons and eternity but a sigh. But Tomas just breathed. He existed. Is this death? - he thought. Is it Nirvana? .... And then he really didn't think at all.

After a time, if there was 'time,'  bells began to jingle in the distance and he realized he was falling, an infinitely tiny singularity upon a snowflake dancing through a foreign sky... It landed on an endless red, lacquered plain, the side of a sleigh gliding through a snow covered parkland. There were passengers in the sleigh. He heard their thunderous voices. They laughed and made jokes, but he didn't know the words.

Then he slid off, tumbling down to the surface. By the time he stopped, he'd grown, perhaps to the size of a fruit fly. The sleigh was but a distant thing streaking toward the horizon, which in this white and snowy land was, at best, an indistinct approximation. 

But another sleigh, pulled by not-quite horses, came after. As it drew closer, he saw the beings inside... gigantic (compared to him anyway) beautiful, well groomed, canine things, wrapped in furs  and since they had thumb-like dew claws, handling the reins quite deftly.

Tomas, by now as big as a green, plastic, army guy, followed. Bit by bit, even though he was abroad in some sort of daylight, his vampiric abilities began to return. And he streaked through this alien atmosphere (a rudimentary form of sublimation) toward wherever the collie/wolf creatures were going.

<more next time>

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TOMAS FINDS A PORTAL TO ANOTHER REALITY IN LAUREL HILL CEMETERY ... 10/2/14

I mus' be writing this in small, little letters, for I am very shy and this makes me feel less observable. You may ask what I am. I would tell you, if I knew, but that knowledge is not known to me. I am a wraith... a thing. Not disembodied, for I never had one of those. I float. I see. I taste. I die. But my death is not like yours. What befalls me is more like a sleep... a deep, blackness... a cosmic 'off' switch. Though at any moment, whoever's in charge of such things might turn me on.

I saw neolithic settlements, desolate and alone, embedded deep into the post ice-age tundra.How grey the sky. How cold the air. Smilodon roamed that boggy plain, ripping the flesh from huge, white aurochs, juvenile mammoths and solitary humans. And bats, such as they were, had wingspans three cubits wide. Twenty four was middle aged. Few reached thirty. What misfortune to have lived back then.

I saw beings from afar touch down in glowing orbs and lie with frightened girls. They whispered secrets, bit off fingers (just the little ones) and swallowed them down like hors'doeuvres.

Ur had ziggurats. Kemet had pryamids. Mohenjo Daro had what Mohenjo Darans liked and Sodom had brothels. No age is unique. Even yours. You're not so special. What? You got lipstick, burger joints and lap tops?... Wage slaves... You're nothing but wage slaves. Rome had more style. Cathay more intrigue. Hellas better athletes. Hurry off to bed. The boss wants you bright and early. Make him rich. Go on. He'll throw you some coins. How I miss the Viking Age. No hypocrites there. Tear it off and make it yours. Kill the boss. Kill his kids. Kill everybody's kids. Then eat and drink and hump and sleep. I must say, they did put on quite a show... Some of the Arabs do that now, ISIS and all that. The only difference is 'time.'... It moves so quickly now. What will come next?

I know a portal... a passageway 'tween this place and somewhere else. Speak to me not of parallel universes, or intersecting universes, or other plains, or whatever they tell you to call it. That's the trouble. 'They' tell you. So few people create anything now. They wait for others to sanction their very thoughts.

Want to see inside? Tomas comes this way. A new Tomas. A different Tomas. Unafraid to be hungry, or to satisfy that hunger. I'll show him. I'll take him.

Shhhh.... He smells something, an electrical frisson... a convergence of energies. None can see inside, til they are inside. Then the whole thing opens up. Tomas has seen other things before...

But this time he brings something back. This time he isn't afraid. A surfeit of human blood will do that. It provides strength and heat and courage.

Assert your power. If you don't have it, get it. I don't care. Just get it. Get it. Get it.

Or create it out of thin air. Maybe I, myself, should not be so damn shy.

<next time --- The Laurel Hill Doorway>

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המוסיקה היהודית האנדלוסית يهود الأندلس Jewish Sephardic music 500 year old SPANISH SONGS THAT TOMAS REMEMBERS ... 9/30/14

He left Marianne's dark refuge and went abroad in the world. Certain streets were clean and orderly, cleared of refuse and undesirables by the warlords, so they and their clients might have respite from the madness. Influential oligarchs strolled through with their retinues. Well dressed ladies, some wives, some demi-wives drank rare and costly coffees at sidewalk cafes. Fire jugglers and conjurers regaled crowds at intersections. Electronic entertainment, save for sporadic, scratchy radio broadcasts, did not exist anymore, so they played out on the streets for lesser grades of fame.



Tomas breathed it all in, savoring the menu available to him that night. How like the mercados and souks of his boyhood in Old Al Andalus. And in his soul he heard the music of that place, ancient cantorials and Sephardic love songs, sung 'round fires in courtyards and caravanserai. He went into a small establishment, a perfumery in what used to be a chocolate shop. In a way, to a scent intoxicated vampire, it still was. The woman behind the counter, an olive skinned

beauty, bewitched him. Not that she meant to, but her form and mien was so like the ladies he remembered from his youth. She smiled, sold him sandalwood and laughed. He politely bowed his head, forever the well bred, Spanish courtier and paid her in the accepted currency of these times, cut up bits of silver from salvaged tableware.... one teaspoon bowl and a fork tine. Then he put the small bottle, once home to aspirin, in his pocket and left, but he came back later, just before dawn, and took her as she tidied up. A scared, girl, her daughter, watched through a barely opened store room door. Tomas pitied her, all alone in such a place, so he took her too. Then he sauntered off to rest among the crypts and bone safes of the great Laurel Hill Cemetery. 



Like a passenger in a speeding train, he was. Like a slave, deep within the hold of a rancid, creaking ship... along for the ride, though unable to change the course. And in a sense this saved him, absolved him of all guilt. He had no choice. He was compelled. Any resistance would be futile. Besides, it all tasted so damned good and there was so much of it. 



Not my fault - he told himself. This new body makes me do it. The morals and the appetites and the 'need' are not natural to me..... Maybe he was right? And maybe he wasn't. 



But he had an excuse... And an excuse is a dangerous thing for a vampire to have.



Now if you'd like to peek into his mind and share his memories, listen to the music up above, sung in medieval, Ladino, an old Sephardic Castillian dialect.



Memories can be quite overpowering...



<more next time>



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VAMPIRINO TOMAS encounters his friend the ELFERINA MARIANNE .. 9/27/14

She took him to this place, a cellar, or maybe a deeper, second cellar like they used to have generations ago. He sat down on an old bean bag chair. It was ripped, but most of the beans were still in the bag. Place didn't have any electric hook up. Regular electrical service didn't exist anymore. Some had generator. Stealing generators was a big thing. 'Motor hopping,' they called it. But Marianne didn't even have that. She made due with a few cartons of batteries in assorted sizes and a whole mess of battery powered candles. Flickering light... She had flickering light and an old 'camp' radio that also used batteries. You could crank it up too. But that didn't really work.

Then she collapsed onto a broken up, dirty mattress and rattled away in Flemish, or Walloon French, or whatever it was. Tomas put his hand up and said,'I know you don't know Spanish and your Vahmperigo (Mediterranean, Romance, vampire dialect) is abysmal, so stick to English. OK?

The animated, elferina bit into the back of her hand, sucking up the blood... a vampire 'cutter,' if you will... took a few deep breaths and began again... 'When did you wake up?' she said.... He didn't answer. Marianne didn't care. Tomas didn't have to answer. He knew what she meant. She could tell. 

'You know I killed an eight year old little boy tonight?' she said. The mother tried to make it real nice for them. Just him and her. Just the two of them. Covered everything up with sheets. Tucked them in real tight. Pinned them in place and all. Don't know where the flowers came from. Maybe they were weeds that looked like flowers. He had board games and army guys. High up in an attic they were. Thought it was safe. The people in her building grow potatoes in the back yard. Well, now there's one less mouth to feed. Got him while he slept. The mother was sleeping too. She never knew. Twelve feet away and she never knew. Stink woke her up. Smelled the blue flames. Saw him burning and saw me standing there. Started screaming. Threw herself right on top of him. But she can't put him out. Blue flame's not like that. Keeps coming back til he's gone. Like trick birthday candles. You know what I mean? (eyes him) Who cares if you know what I mean... (eyes him again) So, you are not crazy anymore. How many years were you like that? Since you came here?

He just plays with a little mouse crawling through her crap.

'Albion (a male elferino) says we should kill you. But I say you are too powerful. Only now I'm not so sure. You got all your talents back, but something is  not right. They say the body is switchboard to the soul and you have a different switchboard. One eye goes twitch-twitch-twitch. I can see. You got to kill. You got to drink. You know that?

He nodded. After more than two hundred and fifty years she still had that accent... like the girl in AFTER MIDNIGHT. Tomas liked that.... Now it's not like vampires don't have to be careful in this new, almost apocalyptic landscape. They do. Warlords run everything. Oh, the National Government still exists, but at street level it's all the warlords. Washington just takes a cut and keeps the foreign low lifes away. Most vampires have been domesticated. They help the warlords... enforcers and all. Afraid of The Lead House. You go by there late at night, hell anytime, you'll hear them screaming... vibrates right through the metal.

Rogue vampires, like the elferinos and Tomas and whoever else is out there have to watch themselves. Sleep somewhere else every day. Marianne has maybe twelve 'nests.' Tomas gotta start finding twigs.

She let him spend the day there. But he couldn't sleep much... too self conscious 'bout that eye twitch and all. You know how vain that Tomas is.

Kept petting that little mouse. Blew on its fur. Poor thing died of fright, but he just kept petting it...

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