Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: 42ND BINGO BOY episode 12/12/12: BINGO BOY - post 42 Nobody in the narrow, little row house near the el tracks slept much that night, except the baby. Jimmy bunked in wit... The whole BINGO BOY arc is one long continuous story... and NO VAMPIRES...Not a paranormal tale. Real life... Rough life... peppered with a bit of humor and incongruity. Grandmom's bingo hall was never like this...unless it was.
Love... murder... kidnapping... extortion...We got it all.
All I know is, for the older couple, for the family oriented former dominatrix and her bad guy - good guy Ukrainian emigre prisoner cum boyfriend, I see Goldie Hawn and (if he's healthy enough) Burt Reynolds. For the younger ones, I don't know. See what you think. Maybe you got ideas. Scroll around. It began on 11/1/12 or 11/2/12, I think and runs for anout two months...maybe a little longer.
I hope you want to see the whole thing.
Very grateful, as always,
Billy
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We all gotta believe.... See it... Do it... Be it...
EVERYTHING IS EVERYWHERE What choices do you make? .
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Sunday, November 16, 2014
Saturday, November 15, 2014
VAMPIRINA, ELIZABETH, RECOUNTS A TROUBLING, NINETEENTH CENTURY EVENT .. 11/15/14
We met a few nights ago. I am Elizabeth, an ally of the Ironstone Family. A life-eater, but discrete. After more than eight hundred thousand Vampire Wonderland words and at least sixteen hundred episodes, this is my debut. And I want to tell you how I came to be.
Nineteenth century Philadelphia was a very different place. Perhaps only in the details.... Gas lit streets.... The wider ones (and that is a relative term) for houses. The back streets in between sheltered horses. Their brown turds peppered the cobbles everywhere. In summer the flies bit everyone.
I worked as a maid for a family near Tenth and Pine. Do you know the area? It's the Antique District now. Back then, in my day, 'strivers' lived there. Gentlemen with a plan. Not Blue Book, to say the least, but maybe the parents of Blue Book people. They had Four stories, an entrance hall (often termed a vestabule in Philadelphia) with high, wide stairs on the right and a passage toward the dining room and kitchen on the left. An archway lead from the entrance to the parlor and the parlor connected to a smaller, more private sitting room used by the family on a day to day basis. The second floor had bedrooms.There were five, two toward the front and three toward the back . Above was a study... a sewing room...a sick room. Every house had a sick room for those afflicted with fevers, pertussis or unidentifiable rashes and boils. Many times it was the death room too. The other spaces were locked. I never went inside. Then there was the attic. Back then we called it 'the garret.' Oh, it had a finished floor... hardwood, but not as fine as downstairs. We went climbed up narrow steps in a closet to get there. Mansard windows looked out toward the street. Two small, portholes faced the back. And it was cluttered with the flotsam and refuse of an affluent family. There was even a stuffed ape. A chimpanzee, I think it was. Back then, it was just an ape. I never knew where they got it. But it was large and hunched. The face frozen in rage. Sometimes they made me clean it with a special, soft bristled brush used for the maintenance of taxidermy specimens. I hated it... alone in that grey, dim place... Late in the day... dusk... always that time. Last task for the evening. Any sickness... any lung fever acquired in that dead, dust filled atmosphere was mine. Then I went down to the cellar, joining the other domestics in a little common room where we took our meals. Others served dinner. We did not. They fed us leftovers. And considering the times, we ate fairly well. Sleeping quarters were downstairs too... clean and whitewashed. But I don't want to talk about that.
One time, when I groomed the ape, it moved. It wasn't the light. I was used to the gloom. It wasn't the rain, or mice, or anything like that. The head turned ever so slightly and it looked at me... Not straight on. Not eye to eye. But I could tell it was looking. I saw the gleam. And the teeth... the huge, monstrous teeth had changed. I knew, because I cleaned them too, with an oil from a special bottle used for cleaning ivory. They got it from India, or Siam, or someplace like that. I couldn't read the letters on the label. It smelled like what an undertaker might use.
But the teeth were red. Not bright red, but a dark, streaked, scab-like smear. I froze for perhaps seventy heartbeats, too afraid to move. Please know that we, who you call 'vampires' think in terms of heartbeats. It's natural to us. I think many, who regularly visit this site, already know that from Jonathon, or Tomas, or whatever he calls himself. I keep to myself. I never mix with them.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. The door opened. I almost died. Colette, the other maid came in.That wasn't her name. The Missus gave her that name, because she liked it. French, you know.... Colette said - Lizzie, are you alright? You've been up here so long..... I was puzzled. What did she mean? How long?.... But she gestured toward the window... and I could see that it was night. Not what we used to call 'the gloaming.' Not dusk, but full darkness. And the attic was dark too. How long had I been standing there?
Colette called my name again. I carefully placed the strange foreign bottle down on the floor and walked toward her, or more precisely the light from a small spermaceti lamp she held in her hand. We quietly made our way down to the cellar.
Supper was over. That's what we called it... 'supper.' The family ate 'dinner.' We did not. But there was a cheese sandwich and some potato salad left for me under a plate. I had that. Got some water from a little zinc (old original Philadelphia dialect word for 'sink,' since they were made from that metal), went into my cubicle and washed my body, before getting under the covers. Then I imagined a life for myself in a home of my own, on a fine street with a handsome family and hot food on translucent china.
But as I drifted off, I saw the teeth, smeared with old dried blood.....
<more next time>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click CHIMPANZEE to look through all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click DINNER to join me on Twitter.
please comment. if you like my stories, kindly tell others and follow. thank you for your support.
Nineteenth century Philadelphia was a very different place. Perhaps only in the details.... Gas lit streets.... The wider ones (and that is a relative term) for houses. The back streets in between sheltered horses. Their brown turds peppered the cobbles everywhere. In summer the flies bit everyone.
I worked as a maid for a family near Tenth and Pine. Do you know the area? It's the Antique District now. Back then, in my day, 'strivers' lived there. Gentlemen with a plan. Not Blue Book, to say the least, but maybe the parents of Blue Book people. They had Four stories, an entrance hall (often termed a vestabule in Philadelphia) with high, wide stairs on the right and a passage toward the dining room and kitchen on the left. An archway lead from the entrance to the parlor and the parlor connected to a smaller, more private sitting room used by the family on a day to day basis. The second floor had bedrooms.There were five, two toward the front and three toward the back . Above was a study... a sewing room...a sick room. Every house had a sick room for those afflicted with fevers, pertussis or unidentifiable rashes and boils. Many times it was the death room too. The other spaces were locked. I never went inside. Then there was the attic. Back then we called it 'the garret.' Oh, it had a finished floor... hardwood, but not as fine as downstairs. We went climbed up narrow steps in a closet to get there. Mansard windows looked out toward the street. Two small, portholes faced the back. And it was cluttered with the flotsam and refuse of an affluent family. There was even a stuffed ape. A chimpanzee, I think it was. Back then, it was just an ape. I never knew where they got it. But it was large and hunched. The face frozen in rage. Sometimes they made me clean it with a special, soft bristled brush used for the maintenance of taxidermy specimens. I hated it... alone in that grey, dim place... Late in the day... dusk... always that time. Last task for the evening. Any sickness... any lung fever acquired in that dead, dust filled atmosphere was mine. Then I went down to the cellar, joining the other domestics in a little common room where we took our meals. Others served dinner. We did not. They fed us leftovers. And considering the times, we ate fairly well. Sleeping quarters were downstairs too... clean and whitewashed. But I don't want to talk about that.
One time, when I groomed the ape, it moved. It wasn't the light. I was used to the gloom. It wasn't the rain, or mice, or anything like that. The head turned ever so slightly and it looked at me... Not straight on. Not eye to eye. But I could tell it was looking. I saw the gleam. And the teeth... the huge, monstrous teeth had changed. I knew, because I cleaned them too, with an oil from a special bottle used for cleaning ivory. They got it from India, or Siam, or someplace like that. I couldn't read the letters on the label. It smelled like what an undertaker might use.
But the teeth were red. Not bright red, but a dark, streaked, scab-like smear. I froze for perhaps seventy heartbeats, too afraid to move. Please know that we, who you call 'vampires' think in terms of heartbeats. It's natural to us. I think many, who regularly visit this site, already know that from Jonathon, or Tomas, or whatever he calls himself. I keep to myself. I never mix with them.
Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. The door opened. I almost died. Colette, the other maid came in.That wasn't her name. The Missus gave her that name, because she liked it. French, you know.... Colette said - Lizzie, are you alright? You've been up here so long..... I was puzzled. What did she mean? How long?.... But she gestured toward the window... and I could see that it was night. Not what we used to call 'the gloaming.' Not dusk, but full darkness. And the attic was dark too. How long had I been standing there?
Colette called my name again. I carefully placed the strange foreign bottle down on the floor and walked toward her, or more precisely the light from a small spermaceti lamp she held in her hand. We quietly made our way down to the cellar.
Supper was over. That's what we called it... 'supper.' The family ate 'dinner.' We did not. But there was a cheese sandwich and some potato salad left for me under a plate. I had that. Got some water from a little zinc (old original Philadelphia dialect word for 'sink,' since they were made from that metal), went into my cubicle and washed my body, before getting under the covers. Then I imagined a life for myself in a home of my own, on a fine street with a handsome family and hot food on translucent china.
But as I drifted off, I saw the teeth, smeared with old dried blood.....
<more next time>
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click CHIMPANZEE to look through all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click DINNER to join me on Twitter.
please comment. if you like my stories, kindly tell others and follow. thank you for your support.
Thursday, November 13, 2014
Fundamental Change in an Alternate Universe... 11/13/14
Tomas talks tonight----
I saw the 'end.' I knew what would happen. The new vampires would kill their exploiters. At least on this estate. And not all the humans would survive, but the species would go on. At least I did that.
But what would happen to me? This world is not my world. And if you're familiar with my story, you know what a homebody I am. Even the city in it's tortured state would be better than this. The trees are too monstrous. The snowflakes like wafers. The sky so high and vast. Eternal night seems clean and small and close. I like the stars, my stars. Oh, you can see them in the city. There are streets... narrow, little, dark places... old mews... cobbled lanes... devoid of excess artificial light. Cats prowl the shadows. Small, curbside trees provide an additional barrier. But there are spots between the trees where starlight filters down. How it soothes me. Most of the universe is dark, you know. The glare from a trillion suns, on a cosmic scale, soon weakens. If that wasn't so the midnight sky would burn with white hot light. The tiny bits of flotsam we call planets catch some of it. The light, I mean. And we call those captured photons 'day.' .... Well, I am tired of it and prepared to go back to a sun I never see.
What will the people do after the monstrous canine things are gone? What will they do after every giant skull and every brain inside is shattered?... It only takes a handful of vampires to do that. And the locals take to 'sublimation' so well.
Flies will come to feast upon the flesh. I've seen them. Loathsome things... iridescent nightmares smeared with excrement and reeking of the grave... with eyes like sequinned basketballs and bodies hard as glass... And their fat, white, worm-like spawn are even worse
Each giant corpse is as a tower, eighteen stories high.... with enough meat and fat and marrow to sustain a city of tiny humans. I'm told dog meat is sweet. Maybe they'll like it....before the flies come?
And after?... Well, there's always the hedgerows. Might have to battle insects for prime turf. Ants have formidable armies and lethal stingers too, not to mention the bees. What epics will be written then. Perhaps they'll ride mice into battle?... Smurfs in all but hue.
I had a dream. Gazing into a mirror, I studied my reflection... a dim image in an old, dark room, cluttered with arcane accoutrements such as might belong to a magician, or alchemist. My journal was there too, as was my handwritten, illuminated copy of La Ciencia Vampirissmo.... I miss that book. To think that I have gone through two bodies, while it remains the same, a pure, inviolate testament to life-eater truth.
And as I inventoried myself I saw a fissure, or deep cut, stretch open on my forehead and run up into my scalp, where it came down my skull and continued down the spine. Then there was a wet, sucking sound, as the skin and hair and fat and tissue parted and peeled from my cranium, exposing the wet and bloody bone. Soon after it rolled from my face, parting at the nose, til my fleshless countenance stared back at me. I saw the muscles and tendons of my neck... my clavicles and sternum.... Like a fresh, oozing carcass, exposed to the students in an early Victorian surgical theater.... Yet I lived and my eyes were still bright.
What did it mean?
When would I know?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click HELLO to wander through all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click HELLO, AGAIN to join me and a whole lot of even more interesting people on nearby timelines.
please leave a comment down below. thank you for your support.
I saw the 'end.' I knew what would happen. The new vampires would kill their exploiters. At least on this estate. And not all the humans would survive, but the species would go on. At least I did that.
But what would happen to me? This world is not my world. And if you're familiar with my story, you know what a homebody I am. Even the city in it's tortured state would be better than this. The trees are too monstrous. The snowflakes like wafers. The sky so high and vast. Eternal night seems clean and small and close. I like the stars, my stars. Oh, you can see them in the city. There are streets... narrow, little, dark places... old mews... cobbled lanes... devoid of excess artificial light. Cats prowl the shadows. Small, curbside trees provide an additional barrier. But there are spots between the trees where starlight filters down. How it soothes me. Most of the universe is dark, you know. The glare from a trillion suns, on a cosmic scale, soon weakens. If that wasn't so the midnight sky would burn with white hot light. The tiny bits of flotsam we call planets catch some of it. The light, I mean. And we call those captured photons 'day.' .... Well, I am tired of it and prepared to go back to a sun I never see.
What will the people do after the monstrous canine things are gone? What will they do after every giant skull and every brain inside is shattered?... It only takes a handful of vampires to do that. And the locals take to 'sublimation' so well.
Flies will come to feast upon the flesh. I've seen them. Loathsome things... iridescent nightmares smeared with excrement and reeking of the grave... with eyes like sequinned basketballs and bodies hard as glass... And their fat, white, worm-like spawn are even worse
Each giant corpse is as a tower, eighteen stories high.... with enough meat and fat and marrow to sustain a city of tiny humans. I'm told dog meat is sweet. Maybe they'll like it....before the flies come?
And after?... Well, there's always the hedgerows. Might have to battle insects for prime turf. Ants have formidable armies and lethal stingers too, not to mention the bees. What epics will be written then. Perhaps they'll ride mice into battle?... Smurfs in all but hue.
I had a dream. Gazing into a mirror, I studied my reflection... a dim image in an old, dark room, cluttered with arcane accoutrements such as might belong to a magician, or alchemist. My journal was there too, as was my handwritten, illuminated copy of La Ciencia Vampirissmo.... I miss that book. To think that I have gone through two bodies, while it remains the same, a pure, inviolate testament to life-eater truth.
And as I inventoried myself I saw a fissure, or deep cut, stretch open on my forehead and run up into my scalp, where it came down my skull and continued down the spine. Then there was a wet, sucking sound, as the skin and hair and fat and tissue parted and peeled from my cranium, exposing the wet and bloody bone. Soon after it rolled from my face, parting at the nose, til my fleshless countenance stared back at me. I saw the muscles and tendons of my neck... my clavicles and sternum.... Like a fresh, oozing carcass, exposed to the students in an early Victorian surgical theater.... Yet I lived and my eyes were still bright.
What did it mean?
When would I know?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click HELLO to wander through all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click HELLO, AGAIN to join me and a whole lot of even more interesting people on nearby timelines.
please leave a comment down below. thank you for your support.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
..how a vampire transforms a world... THIS IS WHERE WE'RE GOING .. 11/11/14
This is a continuation, picking up roughly where 11/5/14 left off~~~~~
The kitchen 'girls' came down when it was still dark. They didn't care about the death of the 'young miss,' but they did gossip about what killed her. The tall, more or less collie looking one thought she shot herself. Her co-worker, a stout, peasant looking, mastiff thing didn't care one way or the other, just busied herself peeling SUV sized spuds for the homemade tater salad, after.
Tall one says (in giant dog talk) - What all you want me to do with them little people? ... Stout one goes - Shut up and don't ask me, you stuck up, bitch you. I seen you mushin' up with the first footman. He liked me first (tall one rolls her eyes) and you know it. How you do with your tail and all, swishin' it around. That's a whore tail. Everybody say it is and I'm gonna bite it off. So leave me alone.......
They work in silence. More potato peeling. Tall one makes some kind of peanut butter and suet cookies. They are dog people after all. Then stout one says - Raw. Raw. Serve 'em raw. But wash 'em up real good first. Get that little rubber hose and hook it up to the sink. Reach into the tank, grab one, but don't kill it. Lay it down on the dish towel, ass side up. Spread the cheeks and wash it real good, 'cause some a them gonna have lots a shit up there an' you gotta clean it out. Rich folk ain't partial to shitty crap, specially at a funeral. Specially when nobody know how she died. Wonder who's gettin' her old clothes? You know she gets her entire wardrobe from Wolff's in the city. New stuff every year. Wouldn't mind some a that myself.... Tall one snorted- What's a stumpy little thing like you gonna do with her city clothes? Make turbans outta them?..... Stout one goes - You keep talkin'. That tail's gonna go bye-bye. One night you gonna be sleepin' and I'll go 'Whoops! The razor slipped!.. And we're all gonna laugh!..... Tall, collie-looking thing says - Aw, you can go to hell...... But meanwhile she keeps washin' them asses. Then she put 'em in a big stainless steel bowl with steep sides, so they can't climb out, 'cause if one runs away and dies behind a cabinet, or something, it is gonna stink. Picks up another one. Lays it down on the towel. Gets the little hose. Opens up the butt cheeks. Gives a look and sees this one ain't dirty down there. Holds him down anyway and gives a good squirt, just in case. Two heartbeats later she's screamin' and yelpin' and grabbin' her paw-hand, which is all shredded and gushing blood. Everything's all red.
Stout one yells - What the hell did you do!? The potatoes! The potatoes! Watch the potatoes!..... Collie girl wraps another towel 'round her hand and runs out.
But that clean-assed little thing ain't on the counter. He ain't no where. Stout one looks and looks and looks... He's gone...
Thing is, he's a vampire. You know the one they call 'Polidori?' That's him. Shucked off his clothes so he'd fit in. Already made four new ones. Vampires, I mean. Ain't all shucked their skin yet, but they do drink blood. Soon they'll be 'sublimating' (passing through all types of matter) and killin' dog folks too.
Soon they'll be a whole army.
Little humans in that stainless steel bowl start buzzin'. Not so you'd hear. Their method of communication is more chemical. Touch faces. Touch bellies, buttocks. Bring hands up to their cheeks and they know.
You see, they don't all have to go vampire. That would be suicidal. Just some. Just a few...
Just enough to kill all them giants.
Stout one don't even feel that little human thing creepin' up her back. Don't even feel it climbin' up her skirt... her apron strings... her blouse. Thinks it's like a little itch on the back of her neck. But then it's too late...
Every mammal, except one or two sloths, has seven neck bones... seven vertebrae. Humans, giraffes, bats... dogs. Even monstrously huge dogs on a far off planet, in an alternate universe... Even the stout, mastiff looking thing. And all the tiny human had to do was pierce through one of them..Just sublimate... Just break the bone. Just severe the nerve and that would be it.
And that was it. No one ever knew if Tillie, or Tomas, or the 'mother' woman, or one of the new ones did it. What difference would that make?... One heartbeat later she was paralyzed, sprawled on the ice cold tiled floor.... Ten heartbeats later she was dead....
Did the funeral still go on?.... Of course...
But God knows what they did for potato salad....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click COLD CUTS to sample all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click COLE SLAW to join me on Twitter.
please comment. thank you.
The kitchen 'girls' came down when it was still dark. They didn't care about the death of the 'young miss,' but they did gossip about what killed her. The tall, more or less collie looking one thought she shot herself. Her co-worker, a stout, peasant looking, mastiff thing didn't care one way or the other, just busied herself peeling SUV sized spuds for the homemade tater salad, after.
Tall one says (in giant dog talk) - What all you want me to do with them little people? ... Stout one goes - Shut up and don't ask me, you stuck up, bitch you. I seen you mushin' up with the first footman. He liked me first (tall one rolls her eyes) and you know it. How you do with your tail and all, swishin' it around. That's a whore tail. Everybody say it is and I'm gonna bite it off. So leave me alone.......
They work in silence. More potato peeling. Tall one makes some kind of peanut butter and suet cookies. They are dog people after all. Then stout one says - Raw. Raw. Serve 'em raw. But wash 'em up real good first. Get that little rubber hose and hook it up to the sink. Reach into the tank, grab one, but don't kill it. Lay it down on the dish towel, ass side up. Spread the cheeks and wash it real good, 'cause some a them gonna have lots a shit up there an' you gotta clean it out. Rich folk ain't partial to shitty crap, specially at a funeral. Specially when nobody know how she died. Wonder who's gettin' her old clothes? You know she gets her entire wardrobe from Wolff's in the city. New stuff every year. Wouldn't mind some a that myself.... Tall one snorted- What's a stumpy little thing like you gonna do with her city clothes? Make turbans outta them?..... Stout one goes - You keep talkin'. That tail's gonna go bye-bye. One night you gonna be sleepin' and I'll go 'Whoops! The razor slipped!.. And we're all gonna laugh!..... Tall, collie-looking thing says - Aw, you can go to hell...... But meanwhile she keeps washin' them asses. Then she put 'em in a big stainless steel bowl with steep sides, so they can't climb out, 'cause if one runs away and dies behind a cabinet, or something, it is gonna stink. Picks up another one. Lays it down on the towel. Gets the little hose. Opens up the butt cheeks. Gives a look and sees this one ain't dirty down there. Holds him down anyway and gives a good squirt, just in case. Two heartbeats later she's screamin' and yelpin' and grabbin' her paw-hand, which is all shredded and gushing blood. Everything's all red.
Stout one yells - What the hell did you do!? The potatoes! The potatoes! Watch the potatoes!..... Collie girl wraps another towel 'round her hand and runs out.
But that clean-assed little thing ain't on the counter. He ain't no where. Stout one looks and looks and looks... He's gone...
Thing is, he's a vampire. You know the one they call 'Polidori?' That's him. Shucked off his clothes so he'd fit in. Already made four new ones. Vampires, I mean. Ain't all shucked their skin yet, but they do drink blood. Soon they'll be 'sublimating' (passing through all types of matter) and killin' dog folks too.
Soon they'll be a whole army.
Little humans in that stainless steel bowl start buzzin'. Not so you'd hear. Their method of communication is more chemical. Touch faces. Touch bellies, buttocks. Bring hands up to their cheeks and they know.
You see, they don't all have to go vampire. That would be suicidal. Just some. Just a few...
Just enough to kill all them giants.
Stout one don't even feel that little human thing creepin' up her back. Don't even feel it climbin' up her skirt... her apron strings... her blouse. Thinks it's like a little itch on the back of her neck. But then it's too late...
Every mammal, except one or two sloths, has seven neck bones... seven vertebrae. Humans, giraffes, bats... dogs. Even monstrously huge dogs on a far off planet, in an alternate universe... Even the stout, mastiff looking thing. And all the tiny human had to do was pierce through one of them..Just sublimate... Just break the bone. Just severe the nerve and that would be it.
And that was it. No one ever knew if Tillie, or Tomas, or the 'mother' woman, or one of the new ones did it. What difference would that make?... One heartbeat later she was paralyzed, sprawled on the ice cold tiled floor.... Ten heartbeats later she was dead....
Did the funeral still go on?.... Of course...
But God knows what they did for potato salad....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
click COLD CUTS to sample all Vampire Wonderland episodes.
click COLE SLAW to join me on Twitter.
please comment. thank you.
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Idina Menzel - No Day But Today - Los Angeles, Oct...
Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: Idina Menzel - No Day But Today - Los Angeles, Oct...: A rainy night. No fancy script, just plain letters. They are not here. Tomas and his Sarah are out, bundled against the cold hard......... Please click on the IDINA MENZEL line up above for a reprise of a good episode from eight months ago. A cold damp night is a cold damp night. And good music is good music. ~~~~~ NO DAY BUT TODAY.
If you like, scroll around at the bottom. Click NEWER POST or OLDER POST to see it all. This is a good story arc. Our vampires are people first and night-folk second.
Bundle up all nice and warm. Go out onto the raw, dark streets and observe...
thank you
I'll try to put a new post up in a couple hours.
If you like, scroll around at the bottom. Click NEWER POST or OLDER POST to see it all. This is a good story arc. Our vampires are people first and night-folk second.
Bundle up all nice and warm. Go out onto the raw, dark streets and observe...
thank you
I'll try to put a new post up in a couple hours.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
peek into another place and another vampirina we haven't encountered yet 11/8/14 .. Autumn - Vivaldi
Seasons change. Lives pass. There are members of the night world we haven't encountered yet. While Tomas and his band prepare for The Redemption of The Prey People in that strange alternate universe ruled by Giant Civilized Canines, let us explore another place...
Fall settles upon the land. Not the soft, warm, 'Indian Summer' variety of September or October. This manifestation cuts deeper. Leaves are gone. Most of the insects have died. Apples are in the barn. Turkeys say their last prayers in anticipation of ritual slaughter. Children hurry home from school under grey and darkening skies.
A fox takes up residence under a holly thicket, waiting for careless, fat squirrels and their acorn spiced flesh. Grandmother walks the grounds, cataloging every image, as she has always done. Some gnarled maples... Crayfish in a brook... Ravens in the branches of recently denuded oaks. She loves the place, two hundred acres of meadow and woodlands tucked away in an unspoiled corner of Bucks County.... America's Cotswolds... another Brigadoon. And on a rise, overlooking a rustic, though subtly manicured greensward sits 'the house' a late Federalist, Pennsylvania stone manor. Has it been in the family since the beginning?... No, they came after the Franco-Prussian War, 1872 or 1873. Great-great-great- great Grandfather arranged finances for the Prussian ruling house. His second son, never to lead the firm, since that burden always falls upon the eldest, was provided with funds and shipped off to America. Connections in Philadelphia and New York arranged a position with The House of Warburg in Manhattan, a private bank heavily invested in railroads and silver mines. Thus was the family's 'New World' fortune established.
Heinrich became Henry and Eisenstein became Ironstone, as the family settled into nineteenth century Philadelphia. The Bucks County place was mostly for weekends then. For the most part, life passed within the confines of a commodious brownstone mansion on North Broad Street, not far from The Pennsylvania Academy of The Arts where Thomas Eakins taught, and hard by that bastion of New World Spirituality, Temple Rodeph Shalom, mother chapel of the Reformed Faith hereabouts. Indeed, the family still prayed there, if not every Saturday morning, or Friday evening, often enough.
Once, while walking home from Eventide (the sundown service) an Ironstone son, some say Reggie, others Barnet saw a young woman... little more than a girl actually. Her hair was lose and full, an almost scandalous rarity in those days. And her coat seemed a bit too insufficient for a November night. Although lyrically beautiful, she seemed 'fallen.' The brothers tried not to make eye contact, though in her own soft way, the girl was quite brazen and she decided for them.... Please, sirs - she said - may I have some assistance?... Though instead of lowering her gaze, as other, still respectable, beggar girls might, she continued to look right at them..... Perhaps it was Reggie who gave her the silver dollar. She took it and laughed--- Not this. I didn't mean this. Please help me. Please help me. .... Then she trembled and sighed, as her eyelids fluttered and she collapsed against Barney's (well, that's what they called him) velvet collared Chesterfield coat. He didn't know what to do... She began to slide down toward the sidewalk.... Grab her. Grab her! - said Reggie... So he did... And seven minutes later, in a deepening late fall chill, they carried her 'round to the stable entrance and put her in a storeroom by the kitchen. Did anyone see?... Not really. Gas lights soften details and provide, at best an 'impressionist' image of the truth.
Thus came Elizabeth. Was she a vampire then?... No, but quite far down that road.... They bribed the cook and hid her from the family, feeding her cold meats, buttered bread and hard cooked eggs. Though a fortnight hence she dined on other things.....
Grandmother knew the tale. They all did, for Elizabeth was still with them.....
<more to come.. please listen to the portion up above. it's Vivaldi and you might like it...happy autumn>
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Thursday, November 6, 2014
not part of our pixilated paranormal tale, but too good to pass up ... 11/6/14 ... David Letterman - Darlene Love "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)" 2013
Tomas left the little boy and girl in a velvet lined lacquered box in the library. The lid didn't fit right and wouldn't close tight, so they'd get air. He threw in a few supplies from the dollhouse kitchen too...a couple bottles of sparkling water... thimble filled with bacon shavings and tiny, chocolate chip sized, round loaves of pumpernickel bread.. Then he pushed the box behind a stack of books. They'd be alright, since the table was wedged in a corner hard by an ugly chair. Nobody would sit there.
Then he sublimated down to the cellar just in time to see the kitchen girl and two footman slide out the large tray and begin gathering what to them were miniature humans. The huge, civilized, dog things carefully plucked naked people up from the damp mushroom bed (careful not to crush any) and dropped them into a cigar box sized, wooden container,
perhaps eighty in all. Considering what they'd just seen the tiny vampires do, some of them didn't want to go. Now they had an alternative. Now there was something else. Before, it was just live-graze-mate-reproduce-get taken to the glass tank in the kitchen-and die a horrible death. But now, even though they did not have a word for it, they could be vampires... little tiny, clueless, mean ass, vampires. At least that was something. So they squirmed and kicked and bit. Some were dropped to their deaths on the hard packed dirt below. A few survived, after a fashion, but the red, crab things quickly shredded them to bits. One or two fell into the folds of the kitchen 'girl's' skirts and carefully lowered themselves down, disappearing under the bottom of the lowest tray. Would the crab things find them? Who knows? But for now they were free. And some (the biters mostly) got crushed between rough, canine, paw-like fingers... Ribs caved first... Abdominal organs spurted out through ruptured testicular sacs in the males and grotesquely swollen pudenda in the females. Thousands of shrimp sized people in the other stacked trays (fifteen in all) huddled together in the dirt. Next time it might be their turn.
But Polidori was in the box and the brand new vampire boy was too.
Then the footman slid the large rough, wood tray back in place, never a smooth procedure. When they had to jamb it in a few people bounced over the side and smacked down on the dirt. But they were only the second or third tier off the ground, so the fall to them equaled approximately two stories. Were there dislocations? Yes. Blunt trauma injuries, scrapes, fractures too. But they didn't suffer long. Crabs got them.
Tomas saw it all. Then, in near total darkness he climbed the old, splintered steps, squeezed under the door and entered the cold, shadowy kitchen. There was no moonlight. But white, midnight clouds reflected a bit of weak illumination in through the large, multi-pane windows. The glass tank was up there. From his angle he could just barely see it. But he could smell the humans and the two vampires inside. Should he sublimate? He did manage to make it through the huge, canine skull. But powers vacillate and he still had to get through the thick glass. If it was crystal, if there was lead in it that would be impossible. Vampires can't pass through lead. But the glass in the tank had a green tint. Crystal is usually clear... utterly clear.... 'crystal' clear. Well, he'd know soon enough.
The staff would be back to start preparing soon.... Bake bread...maybe a few pies and cakes what with the funeral luncheon and all. He had to be ready by then. Make a few more vampires. Kill a few more of the giant canines. Scare them. Terrify them. Make them think all humans had the power now. God knows what would happen then.
But at least it would be over. One way or another it would stop. The people would be free.
What came after was something else...
It had to work. It had to. And the children in the lacquered box had to be safe.
Tomas cried. He just wanted to go home. But we all want a lot of things and most times they never happen...
<more next time>
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