KILL ONCE, THINK TWICE

Papa looked about the room. It really was quite luxurious. The concierge was a 'familiar' of his. It's amazing what one could buy with a tiny vial of blood. How fortunate that so many scattered 'round the city had the habit. What were they? Could they be called 'reverse vampires? Imagine, humans addicted to occasional sips of life-eater nectar. Yes, it did preserve them a bit. It did get rid of troubling diseases and the like. But best of all, it bewtiched them. He could request anything and they would do it. This one, the concierge, arranged for a suite on a floor that was supposed to be closed for redecoration. And it was. But one or two pied-a-terres were already complete. Papa and his party occupied the best one. Truthfully? It won't be the best for long. The decorators will be called back to erase some unspeakable damage. Vestiges of human tissue (not much, considering the fires) will be disposed of. And some additional vials of genuine, vampire, kick-a-poo joy juice will be distributed. Still, it's worth it just for the quiet seclusion. The girl layed on the bed. She was a big, blowsy thing, like a Jane Mansfield on steroids. And she moaned, as she rolled back and forth and back and forth. I suppose that twenty four ounce kobe beef tenderloin proved too much for her. The wine didn't help much either. And from her never ending repatoire of musical toots, I'm guessing she's also a little lactose intolerant too. She kept belching and saying - Ooh! Excuse me.....Buuurp! Ooh! Pardon me! Where are my manners? Look, if you wanna 'do'me a little, that's  OK...but I'd appreciate a few more minutes to get rid of some of the, some of the gas...Is that all right?.......Papa quietly answered - Take your time......He got up from the fine, chintz, occasional chair and went over to sit on the bed. Then he loosened his tie. Threw it on the floor and helped his over grown baby doll out of her tight, satin sheath. Actually, he had to rip part of it to get it off. But she was already half asleep by then. And even if she wasn't, it would have made no difference. When he got down to the bra (a major example of modern engineering comparable to the Ben Franklin Bridge ,yes, that's named after him too in this town) and the imitation silk panties, Little Bastid Annie sashayed out from the toilet........I wanna do it. I wanna do it - she whined. That's lady stuff. I gotta do it. Get outta here. You can't do that.......Papa said - Go back in there and play with your coloring book, you little brat. What the hell did you make me stop and buy it for!?.......The 'six' year old vampire mumbled something about not having the right kind of crayons. But he wasn't listening. He just scooped her up, dumped her into the sarcophagus length jetted tub (dry, of course) and poured the box of 'wrong' crayons down on her head. Then he stomped out and slamed the door. She stuck her ugly, little tongue out at him, but quickly began to color in the Flintstones as if they were dead, blue-tinged, frigid corpses. Wilma looked particularly beguiling, a regular Lily Munster in bear skin. But Betty (as everyone knows) looked even better. The squishy-hipped, buxom beauty on the bed went 'Phew!' and mumbled something about being cooler. He pulled off his Ralph Lauren Purple Label and everything else in the ensemble. But this stuff didn't get thrown on the floor. No, this stuff was carefully folded and laid over a chair. Then he climbed on top of her and began to do his duty. She sleepilly whispered - What time is it?....My old, bastard husband gonna wanna know where I am......But he paid no attention.......Then she added - Hey! Not so hard! I ain't no pony ride!!!.....A lot of good that did her, 'cause this was the part where Papa started to get rough. This was the part where he got a little hungry. This was the part where the teeth come in....First a little bite. She moaned, but she hardly noticed...Then a few bigger tastes....Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it. She started to scream. But remember this is a big, originally Cro-Magnon guy we're talking about and a vampire too. So it was nothing for him to stiffle her yells with one of his big hands....Her eyes got a little wild and crazy. And one of them newly purchased and arranged lamps got knocked off and broken. Only he could not help it. Her blood tasted so damn good. And there was so much of it....Then Annie comes bursting out of the toilet yelling - Save me the toes! Save some toes for me! You son-of-a-bitch!.....And she jumps on one of them thrashing legs, struggling to hold on, as she starts gnawin' off a couple of minor digits.....Papa gives her a kick and she goes flying. BAM, right against the wall. But she's laughing like a crazy thing as she plops down on the floor.......I got two! I got two! - she hollers.....But he don't pay her no mind, for the last drops are coming out of this big gusher and that's the best part...... Then he jumps off and manages to pull on his clothes just as she lights up with a cold, blue flame. He throws a coat on Annie, wipes the blood off her chin, picks her up and barrels through the door.... No one in the lobby even noticed. What were they but a well dressed gentleman and his tired, cranky, little girl, rushing into a taxi after a late night out?.......Even the cabbie smiled........But during the ride back to the museum (they got out at the corner of Thirty Fourth Street) his mind wandered off and he began to question his decisions. How nice it would be to have some intelligent vampire companions for a change. Little blood drinkers can be so tiresome....How nice it would be to have Jonathon back.......How nice...How nice...

THE MANTRA OF THE MULTITUDES

When Jonathon awoke, he was in Doctor Franklin's  commodious quarters. Everything was done up in high federalist splendor, Jefferson himself, never had any better. Rich velvet draperies covered nonexistent windows. Well the frames were there and they did contain the requisite number of panes. But the glass was all transluscent. It was milky white. And the exterior 'sunlight' was of the artificial variety. The great scientist occupied a fine, wing chair. He sipped a cup of Earl Grey, as he studied his 'young' guest. They were both dressed in 1780's high fashion. None of that frou-frou Frenchy stuff. these outfits were fit for country gentlemen, thin suede knee britches, full. white shirts (I said full, not puffy!). You've seen stuff like this on the covers of romance novels. Sure, Franklin was a bit paunchy. But remember, he is not like everyone else. This is,after all, the man responsible for the birth of modern technology. The doctor spoke. He said - Would you like anything, I mean anyone? We have an assortment of disgusting criminals you might enjoy......Jonathon said - How thoughtful. I may take you up on that offer in a day or so, if I'm still here. And I presume that I will be here at least until you manage to free Sarah...and the 'others.'........Please, sir, what are your ideas on that subject?...........Franklin cleared his throat. He placed his cup upon a small, occasional table created just for that purpose. He said - Well....you've heard my music during the night, haaven't you, my boy?........Jonathon nodded........The learned gentleman continued - It is produced by a piece of apparatus I call 'the great armonica.' I presume that like almost everyone else in Philadelphia, you've gone on the tour of my house, or what's left of it?.......Jonathon said - Yes?......Franklin said - Then you've no doubt seen the small version, one of my first attempts , on display there. You know what I mmean. The thin, fine-tuned crystal discs arranged on the silver rod? They all think it's just a musical instrument. Why are people so self-limiting?...But that's another problem....Well, I have an armonica here. But this one is much larger. It's configured a bit differently. And the revolving discs are 'dampened' with heavy water...You know, like the nuclear scientists used? Oh, and they're not made of crystal, not glass crystal anyway. These are made from quartz, a  quite rare variety too. (sighs)  What use is talking? Come, I'll show you......Jonathon's heart quickened. Perhaps this meant something?.....He got up and followed the spry old man (no doubt fortified with tiny draughts of his own blood) through the rest of the quarters (all nicely done) and out into the general corridors. They continued this way and that way for a while, finally comming to a stop before two large, heavy doors. If you are asking Zebulon to guess the material, I would say some sort of florentine finished stainless steel. I remember seeing the like in Babylon, or perhaps during my sojourn among the Hind. Franklin fingered that little fob he always carried and the portals silently slid open. He went in, motioning for Jonathon to follow. The youthful Andalusian noticed the doctor's electric scooter parked inside and he gestured toward it.....The doctor said - I know. You're wondering why I'm not using it. And yes, It is due to your blood, those tiny samples drawn off by the drones, for which I thank you very much....Then he clapped his hands and the lights came up (remember, 'the clapper' was one of his inventions too) revealing a large, white, clinical laboratory. In it's center rested 'the great machine.' There was a long, silver shaft, at least sixty feet. Dozens of huge, clear, quartz discs, arranged in decreasing size were 'strung' along its length. A shallow trench, lined with some sort of ceramic material ran under the contraption. It was partially filled with a substance that looked like water, but was not water. The climate in this space was such that a fine mist  rose up from the trench, where it condensed upon the transparent discs keeping them continuously moist. Two guards silently entered. Even Jonathon did not hear them and that was rare indeed. One began to address the doctor. But Franklin simply held up his hand and said - Not now. Everything is all right. There is no need. You may wait outside.......And they left. Franklin quickly tickled his fingers over that fob causing a low electric hum to pulse up from the floor (but there was no accompanying shock) and travel into the massive, bronze looking, Rodin-esque statues supporting each end of the sixty foot shaft. The contraption came to life. Songs came out of it. There is no other way to describe it. Not like real songs. But like whale songs, or the deep, yet melodious resonances said to eminate from the earth before a quake. The doctor went over and fiddled with some sort of a control panel off to the side. Certain discs began to spin, some of the largest ones, reaching fourteen feet in diameter, as well as some of the smallest down to about eight inches. This brought forth a sound like human singing. No, like angels singing. Jonathon just stood there, taking it all in. The threehundred and four year old 'wizard' said - Behold, the mantra of the multitudes........as thousands of etherial butterflies materialized over-head and fluttered about the heights like petals on the wind........

A BALM FOR THE SENSES

The door to the medium sized chamber opened and Doctor Franklin rolled in, followed by two sturdy orderlies. He stopped just short of the sobbing immortal and said - Come, my boy. We will get her back. I promise you that we will......The orderlies kneeled down to help Jonathon get up, but he roughly shook them off......He cried - I don't want to go with you. I want to stay here. Leave me alone.......They tried again, yet had to stop, for the vampire could hurt them. Not that he wanted to. Not that he planned to. It's just that he can't controll his own strength. So Doctor Franklin called for some blankets and prepared to spend the night locked in the room with a heartsick life-eater and his 'dead' family. The orderlies draped the warm covers over Jonathon. They lifted the wily, old scientist up out of his chariot and placed him down on a large, comfy chair carried in for that purpose. Then they tucked him in too. He had a catheter bag strapped to his thigh so he would not need to go  pee during the night. The orderlies left. The door was closed and the vampire and the three hundred and four year old human were sealed in till morning. But that term had no meaning here, in this subterranean space. To the mole folk (who survived their night with the cops and were now safely returned to their much missed surroundings) it would have been Nirvana. All was silent, save for the weak, small drone of the ventilator. All was dark, save for the minute illumination eminating from some tiny, security bulbs.  Jonathon remained where he was. He started  to intone the prayer for the peaceful repose of the soul. He said - Yit-ga-dahl, ve-yit-ka-dash...Shemay-Rabah....( Magnified and Sanctified be the name of The Lord...) and he continued till he was through......Doctor Franklin said - Amen.....All was quiet for a heartbeat or two, till the doctor continued..... I know that prayer well, my boy- he said. I used to sing it at Mikveh Israel. You remember that prayer house, don't you?.......Jonathon sniffed and nodded......The old man went on - I prayed everywhere, with the Anglicans, with the Methodists, and with the Jews. There weren't too many Catholics in my time (he laughed) or what's supposed to have been my time. But I prayed later with them as well. And lately, I've even answered the call at a mosque or two. And you know what?.........Jonathon sobbed - What?......I believe it all. And I believe the Buddists. And I believe the Hindus. And I believe the B'hai's. And who else do you want to ad to that list? What difference does it make? You know what old,Rabbi De Solis taught. The righteous of all groups shall share in The World To Come. And you can't tell me that a spiritual creature such as youself, doesn't believe that. We'll bring her back. We'll bring them back. - whispered the doctor........He looked down at the eightteen year old body encasing the thousand year old soul. The 'boy' drifted off to sleep. And the Doctor whispered - And if we can't bring them back...we'll pray for them...Thus they spent the night....But unbeknownst to them, Sarah heard it all...........

JONATHON PLAYS DOCTOR

There were lots of closets in this place. Lots of storage rooms too. Most of the staff wasn't really familiar with them all. So it wasn't to hard for the young doctorix to find a spot where she and her star patient could be toether.  The lights in the passageways were dimmed in the evening. No one could see out. There were no windows for security reasons. And besides, most levels were underground. Did the 'boss,' did Doctor Franklin know what was going on ? He might have. But come on. You all know how he is. Didn't they teach you that in high school and college? Didn't you learn about him and the comely young matrons of France? Yes, the matrons. It was easier for a married woman to 'play games' in those days, for she could almost always pass off any buns baking in her oven as works of the resident baker. It was the maidens who had to be careful, especially the ones with lofty prospects. They could be ruined. So Little Miss Medicine took Jonathon out of his 'cage.' She covered him up in one of the emerald green Eagles sweatsuits they had coming out their ears at this joint. True, some of other staffers did recognize him, but what did they care? He still wore the discipline collar. They all carried one of those small 'fobs.' Anyone could 'turn on the heat.' He wasn't about to try anything. It's not like they didn't do similar things with some of the other inmates themselves. And considering the wide variety of clientele they had staying here, some of those staffers were not too particular. The room was comfortable enough. It was a small storeage space for papers and forms mostly. There was a little desk, a chair and a worn, high-gloss, green leather sofa. Typical government issue. Look, I'm not going to give  you all the details. Remember, I was there when The Bible was canonized. I knew the people who knew the people, if you want to know the truth. Yeah, they have some soft core stuff in The Scriptures. But don't look at me (as if you could) I didn't write it. So here goes. Jonathos wasn't naked. He did have on that collar. And his companion for the evening was like-wise demure, for she retained most of her attire  too. Only it was all scrunched up. The 'top' was unbuttoned and all scrunched down around her waist. Her tastefully matching skirt was arranged in a similar manner, rolled up over her thighs and bunched up just about at the level of her navel. The florescent overhead light was on a dimmer switch. So everything had a dark, purplish-blue hue to it. Not very flattering for the human girl. But I don't think the vampire cared one way or the other. They played a rough game of 'hound and rabbit.' That's what folks called it along the shores of The Levant back in my time. Push-push, rub-rub, slap-slap, pinch-pinch. You want me to say this a few more times? Because it took a while. Remember, we're dealing with a vampire here, not to mention a girl well versed  in shall we say, human sensitive areas. So when it was finished. When the game was over, they disengaged, prettied themselves up annd talked for a while. Lucky for her, modern clothmakers had mastered the art of crinkle-proof garments. That green sweatsuit was folded up on a chair good as new. So he didn't have to worry about a thing. But Jonathon detected a rather strange frequency wafting up from his 'friend's' body. She was guilty about something. He said - What is it? What troubles you?.......She said - You can tell? You can really tell?.......He said - Come on. You know what I am. There's a gentleman one level up agonizing over how he's going to manage to sneak the state of the art computer out of his office and into his car. Another person, down this very passage, has enabled other less intellectual thinking devices in the payroll department to issue her a check for ten thousand dollars. You want me to go on?..... No - she said. It's about Sarah.........He tensed. What? What about Sarah? ........... She answered - We've got her. We have her here. And the other ones too.............How? Where? - he cried.....Don't you know? - she said...........No. Not when I'm upset. Not when I'm nervous. Tell me. Don't play with me...........She knew it was against the rules, but she told him - We  found the hiding place, the cellar or whatever it was where Papa took them. How he did it, I do not know. But Franklin found out. He knows a lot about your maker. He's been dealing with vampires and other 'exotic specimens' for centuries. He knows just about everything........And? - said Jonathon. Where are they?.........Come on. I'll take you - answered the lover. So they got up off the sqeaky sofa. Did a little bit here and there to tidy up the joint and left..... She led the way through maze-like corridors and up and down countless staircases till they came to a door.......In there - she whispered. But I can't open it. My 'fob' won't work and I don't have a key.........He said - And you think that's supposed to stop me?.......Then he turned, inhaled, wiped a tear from his eye, stepped back, pulled himself together and sublimated right through the door. The  young doctor gasped, for she had never seen the like before...... The room was medium sized and lit by small 'security' lights. Metal cabinets lined the far wall. There was no furniture. Someone had laid statues all about the cold, tiled floor. They were arranged in no particular order, like architectural 'findings' delivered to a construction site for future finishing and eventual installation. He got down and crawled among them. Here was Albion, the elf lord, along with the others of his kind. And plump, scared cherubs held court around them. Each seemingly made of the same, fine, gritty, grayish stone. Sarah lay off to the side, like an angel or a French Marianne, created for the place of honor on some fine, public building. A beaux arts maiden, waiting for her perch. He laid down beside her, put his arms around her and cried. And he stayed that way till Doctor Franklin came to find him.......

A CONSULTATION WITH THE DOCTOR

The eerie tones of the musical apparatus continued throughout the evening. At least Jonathon supposed it was evening. There were no windows in this vast enclosure. That did not surprise him. He was a valuable specimen. His captors would not allow him to come to any harm. Not yet anyway. Who knew what would happen when their 'study' ended? He might be rendered down and distilled into some sort of elixir. One of the Louis' in France did that to his court vampire. Dabbed it behind their ears, I think they did. No benefit, except for the gentleman who sold it. Parisian noblewomen paid dearly for the tiniest flacons of the pale, ruby fluid.  Called it Eau de la Font, water of the fountain, the fountain of youth. But they still crossed over into death at their regularly appointed times. So much for guarantees. A bit later, after a particularly appealing crescendo, the ghostly music stopped. And then it was quiet, very quiet. Jonathon would know such things. He had vampiric hearing after all. But no sound came to him. He searched. He tried. He struggled to pick up the slightest vibration. But nothing. And he laid there, lulled almost to the brink of sleep by the soft, rocking motion of his invisible spider web. Was it due to his own contortions, or simply a programmed function of the magnetic field? Who cared. It was comforting. Subsequently, from somewhere near the fringes of consciousness, he detected a tiny, electric whine. After a few heartbeats, it started to grow louder. He recognized it as Franklin's vehicle and was not startled in the least when the door to the great room opened  and the venerable scientist rolled in........ Jonathon? Are you awake, my boy? - said Doctor Franklin......He rolled right over to the outside edge of the 'field' and stopped. Jonathon sniffed. His throat was a bit hoarse. Yes, life-eaters can get hoarse. but he still managed to cough out a response...........Yes, sir. I am awake. To what do I owe this thoughtful visit? - said the vampire.......Why I could do no less. - whispered Franklin.......He rummaged in the pocket of his sweat suit and pulled out a little 'ivory' egg. Jonathon's vision enabled him to see such things. True, the general aura was still dim, but he could make out the basics. The doctor began to roll the egg around in his hands. After a few moments it began to glow , till the old man's face (how old, still a question open for discussion) was bathed in an undulating, milky light. .....Please forgive our rude behavior, about your nakedness, I mean. But certain great thinkers among us feel that extraneous objects might interfear  with the field. I'll see what I can do to remedy the situation in the morning. - said Benjamin Franklin.....Jonathon only managed a weak nod. It was still difficult for him to pull against his electronic restraints.........When did we last meet? - crooned the doctor..........How long ago was it? - he said.........No, no , no, you do not have to answer. I understand how hard that is for you. - smiled Franklin.........But quite a nifty trick, isn't it? I like that devise. It's one of my favorites..........But Jonathon  interrupted. He said - Where are we? Where is this place? I smell water. Are we near the river?.......Hush, hush, hush - said the old man. You will learn all things in good time. But first, perform a small favor for me.......Jonathon did not ask what iit was. He knew what humans, certain humans, especially the older ones, wanted. And he just surrendered, letting it happen. The old man giggled, as he played with a small, plastic, rectangular piece of eguipement. He tapped a few buttons. From somewhere in the darkness a few small, metal drones appeared. They looked different than the first one, the one that cut his skin. These flew into the field (there were three of them) and settled onto his person. One upon his shoulder. Another on his hip. The third on the thigh. Doctor Franklin clapped his hands and tiny needles sprang out from each of them, siphoning off a bit of blood, which they stored in small, stainless  vials. The doctor clapped again and it was over. The needles retracted and the drones flew off........The old man said - Clap on, clap off, the clapper. That was one of mine too. I believe I'll sip them in the privacy of my quarters. They know the way.........Then he switched on the chair and rolled out, leaving Jonathon in the darkness once again..........

THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES (or sometimes, the discs)

Jonathon had been let out of the box. The 'puppet show' was over for the time being. He sat at a small table up against the wall of the vast chamber and conversed with the young doctor. He said - Hadleigh? Bailey? A bit heavy on the 'E' sound aren't we?......She said - That's not my real name. I have a lot of name tags. I got 'em in a box. Every morning I just grab one. People expext it. They bring 'em through here for a peek at the magic, politicians and military types I mean, and we gotta look the part. Not just them. You know we deal with all kinds here. It's a regular, Star Wars bar scene, no offense......Their heads come together and they kiss......He says - None taken. Where are we?.......She - Can't tell......He - Well, Doctor Franklin is here, so we must still be sommewhere in  the city?......She - Really, you think so?.......He - I would suppose so.....She - Then you don't know Dr. Franklin.....(he waits for more).....She ads - Let's just say that the wily fox manages to cover quite a bit of territory.......He - How?......She's about to respond, when a nearby portal opens and one of the anti-enchantment agents  enters, taking up position a few yards away. He adopts a threatening stance, arms crossed, feet squarely planted. You get the picture, real 'cop 101'......(see, Zebulon picks up things). The doctor can see him. He's right in her line of sight. Now Jonathon could theoretically sublimate right through him. That would be it, nothing left but thousands of minute, bloody morsels (bones included) splashing down onto the immaculate, shiny floor. But you know, who wants trouble? So they both shut up. Jonathon nods. He understands......He ads - Please tell me, who do I have to thank for this outfit? She smiles. He sports a well pressed, dapper set of fatigues, military all the way, except for his long, wavy dark locks........She - We're a governmental agency. Thank 'Uncle Sam.'........He yells out into the air - Thank you, Uncle Sam!!!.....His voice echos in the immense, white, windowless, clinical space. Other agents run in, weapons drawn. They look to Agent 1. He just shakes his head and they depart.......Jonathon and the young doctor laugh. She goes back to eating her sandwich. He studies every move, how she chews, how she swallows......She - Are you hungry? I mean, do you 'need' anything?......He - No, I can go for a month......She - And then?........He - Then I have to 'cull' somebody.......She - Cull?......He - Kill, kill them. I'm trying to be nice about it. Look, haven't they been working with captured vampires for years? Don't they know? Don't you know?.........She - We know. It's just that I've never seen it. Can I see it? I mean when you 'cull' someone........He (playfully) - And who would that be?.........She - We have prisoners. Human ones I mean. Bad guys. You know the drill.........He - I invented that drill. But let me ask you something. Will I be here that long? For a month, I mean......The agent shoots her a look. Jonathon picks up on it. She doesn't respond. The agent approaches. His heavy shoes resonate on the floor. He comes up beside her and whispers in her ear - It's time. You're needed on 'Level 4.'........ She nods, looks into Jonathon's eyes, throws out her lunch mess and exits........ The agent says - OK, 'sunshine,' back in the cage........Jonathon hesitates. The agent (enhanced with various cerebral chips) focuses on the metal collar around the vampire's neck. We hear a low, electronic hum, as it instantly heats up. Jonathon screams. The agent snaps his fingers and points toward the center of the huge room. Jonathon quickly crosses over the red line painted on the metallic floor annd takes up  position inside the 'box.'.....The agent gows impatient and growls - Gimme the uniform.....Jonathon takes it off and tosses it over. The agent kicks it toward the door. Then he turns on the magnetic field and Jonathon is suspended once more. But he screams - The collar! The collar! The magnets! It's heating up again!! He struggles to reach it. The agent watches him suffer for a few heartbeats. Then he refocuses on the heavy collar, causing it to instantly click open and clatter down to the floor. He holds out his hand, as it rapidly slides across the glossy surface and jumps up into the air, where he smartly grabs it. Jonathon catches his breath. The agent says - We got tricks too, 'sunshine.' Then he turns, snaps out the lights and leaves. The difuse light from up above reawakens, creating a column of weak, watery illumination in an otherwise pitch black chamber.......Jonathon exhales. His muscles relax........And from somewhere deep within this unknown complex, he hears a sound, as someone 'plays' a haunting melody upon an old, mysterious, crystal 'armonica.' This ancient devise, developed (or discovered) by Doctor Franklin before the Revolution has long been rumored to possess many .........But look, Zebulon is distracted. Search for it on the Google thing. They will tell you want you want to know.....

AN OLDIE BUT A 'GOODY'

Jonathon has been let out of the box. He's still in the same chamber, only not suspended anymore. The 'puppet show' (for the time being) is over. He sits at a table, conversing with the young doctor....Jonathon - Hadleigh? Bailey? A