O. G. Tomes: People say the nicest things! Check them out! Se...

O. G. Tomes: People say the nicest things! Check them out! Se...: We rush around marketing and we lock ourselves away to write!   But when you come up for air wondering if its all worth it....? Tha...

A SOUL PARADE and, no, it's not like SOUL TRAIN

Sarah and I are sitting on a bench in Washington Square park. That's the one designed over an old Revolutionary burial ground. Now it's a charming, urban greensward surrounded by stylish, Center City condominium towers. It's also where Chi-weenies go to pee.  


I like a clear, night sky. Actually, the residential nature of the immediate neighborhood cuts down on light pollution <see? i do keep up with contemporary terminology>. Summer constellations slowly float by overhead.. I see tiny red pinpoints of light from a passing jet. Sarah spots a shooting star, but perhaps it's just a piece of space junk? Hope that has no bearing on my wish. 


I'm due for a Soul Parade. I don't think I've ever told you about that. It happens, to vampires,I mean, about once every ten or twelve years. The life-eater in question retreats to an isolated spot, often in a cave or a grotto, or a crypt. Some preferred catacombs. The immortal being goes in, lies down, closes his eyes and prays. Then, in order, from first to last, each and every soul 'culled' within that time period condenses out of the ether to visit a while. Oh, it's very real. This is no illusion. Occasionally one of the innocents killed during a lapse does not make an appearance. That means they've reincarnated, hopefully into a more benevolent atmosphere. Could be their death was meant to make that possible? At least that's what we tell ourselves. 


Sarah wants to go with me. I know an old, abandoned gray, Pennsylvania stone cottage, deep within the up-state forests. Wolves still frequent the area. There are no roads or paths. I sublimate in. The site came to me in a dream. I've seen ghosts there. Once I saw a headless child stumbling through the filtered moonlight. But then I blinked and it was gone. Another time a pack of skinless Indians, obviously the spirits of those flayed alive, passed single file by the doorstep of my refuge. Worst of all are the orange eyes reflecting out from the blackness. Some are just animals, but some are not. I hate the way they stare. 


Some souls cry. Others just hover and say nothing. A few screech like banshees. Some babble incoherently. 


They pinch me. They scratch my face, gouge at my eyes and molest me in the most horrible ways, all within the velvety darkness of a ruined cellar. I believe the remains of a murdered vagabond lie buried in the rammed earth floor. But he doesn't bother me. He just laughs and blurts out obscenities. 


Some expect apologies. Others want to dance. But I never dance with them


One time a cold, young man silently entered that place. However, he was very  much alive. God knows what he heard. His presence roused me from my painful reverie. I sublimated straight up through the remnants of the old, oak floor and smiled at him. It was an evil smile. Needless to say, he died right on the spot. Pity, the blood died with him. 


You see, dead blood has no 'good' in it. All the vampire specific 'vitamins' fly away, like ravens from a dried up corpse. So I was forced to drag him out into the midnight chill and feed him to the wolves. I had no knife, but by twisting the limbs repeatedly, was able to separate them from the rest of the body and feed them to the greys.


Then I crawled back in ...to finish my ordeal......


Perhaps tomorrow, I'll set off again. Will I take Sarah? I suppose. She never ceases to surprise me. A strong life-eater that one is.


Now leave me alone. I want to go kill somebody


Exactly 2:00am EDT, on a wrought iron bench in the forgotten bone yard that is Washington Square...


+_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+ +_+


please hit the SHARE button. kindly leave a COMMENT. thank you...  

The VAMPIRES Want YOU to 'like' STUFF on Billy Kravitz' FACE BOOK PAGE...OK?

Look at the BEAUTY IS AS BEAUTY DOES episode appearing right under this. Please READ IT. I can't stay up late enough tonight to 'channel' a new one. But this one is VERY WORTHY OF YOUR ATTENTION. Check out the new COMMENT POLICY  (at the bottom of the BEAUTY IS... post) too. It may THROW SOME TRAFFIC YOUR WAY.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


please hit the SHARE BUTTON. please leave a COMMENT. please have your pets SPAYED & NEUTERED. we find doing BOTH works BEST. thank you

vampire wonderland: BEAUTY IS AS BEAUTY DOES..... VAMPIRES SHARE THE B...

vampire wonderland: BEAUTY IS AS BEAUTY DOES..... VAMPIRES SHARE THE B...: We're half way 'round the Sun since last THANKSGIVING. This episode ran back then. Can't post a new one tonight. Must retire  (ZZZzzzZZZ) a...

Edith and Baylah drink a toast to DONNA SUMMER

First of all, before we start, let me direct your attention to a little bon-bon left as a COMMENT after yesterday's post by the great Southern tale spinner, O.G. Tomes, where she gives us a peek into one of her latest books A TEST OF FAITH. Reads like a movie. I like that. Go to http://ogtomes.blogspot.com for more. A 'clickable' link at bottom of comment.


                    AND NOW, BACK TO OUR SHOW


Vampires have trouble with tattoos. It's not a question of infections, or things like that. Microbes cannot harm them. But the pigment tends to disappear. It just dissolves and goes away. How they excrete it, I do not know. Zebulon is not an alchemist.  But I do know they leave no scat and pass no water. However, they do perspire. A light dewiness appears on the skin. So perhaps it escapes that way? They continue on as they were at the time of transformation, preserved as if in amber. 


Baylah has a tattoo, a small one. I believe it represents some pre-Islamic Tuareg talisman. It's on the outer side of her left wrist... a small, black stylized camel spider, applied while still a mortal. 


Edith admired it. They're having tea right now, snug in the little, jewel-box apartment above the piano bar. I can hear the muffled tinkling of the show tunes wafting through the floor. Baylah can drink tea. Not too much. Just a little. She lets it slide down drop by drop. Tomas can tolerate certain varieties of distilled spirits. That's just the way it is. Papa can handle thick, yeasty beer...and occasionally a chewy pine nut. Don't ask me about the pine nuts. Perhaps it has to do with his great antiquity? 


Now he's singing 'Last Dance.'  It isn't a show tune, but not all of them are. Baylah got to know Donna Summer back in the early days. She'd appear in small, South Street clubs. Baylah loves to dance. Well-off admirers  squired her about the city in stylish Cadillac El Dorados. You know the cars, the ones with those discreet, little  'opera' windows. Miss Summer never knew she was a vampire. Not everyone can handle that. Some believe the lies spawned by The Inquisition. Others fear magic of any kind. Still, Baylah did give her a small vial, a beautiful, faceted crystal thing, like a pendant. And you know what was inside. It held a few drops of her blood... relics of a 'saint' not truly dead. I know they were in contact over the years. Some letters passes. Some phone calls. Maybe they spoke of the magic? Maybe she knew the truth by then? But she never drank the 'special drug' inside..... Pity. Zebulon cannot tell you where she is on my side now. I do not know. Death is a big place spanning many Heavens and countless Hells. I have only been to some of them. And think on this~~~ to be dead for a heartbeat, or for a billion years is all the same to us. Dead is dead is dead. I have heard of some who reincarnate and go back....like widows returning to Florida. But I have never done it.... not yet.


So the two unusual creatures, the Piney witchy-woman and the Sub-Saharan former princess sit at the small, polished dining table in the lavish pied a terre and raise a cup to the vanished diva, as the last well dressed, tipsy patrons exit the cozy piano bar down below. If it  was winter, the cold air would refresh them. But this is May, when such things never happen.


Most vampire nights are devoid of drama, though poignant just the same.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


please hit the SHARE BUTTON. help the story live. grace us with a COMMENT. thank you and good night...


And for a different take on the VAMPIRE genre, take a look at the very well received, BEST SELLING  books by ANDREW HARDING at http://AHardingBooks.com a delicious melange of THE MENTALIST meets CSI with a dash of enchantment and a healthy dose of NINE AND A HALF WEEKS..... a REALLY HEALTHY DOSE!!

I HATE BEING SLAMMED AGAINST THE CEILING< BUT SOME VAMPIRES DON'T SEEM TO GET THAT

I wasn't going to blog tonight. Thought I'd sleep. Never do that anymore. Maybe get like three or four hours, sometimes during the dark, sometimes by day. Everything's mixed up and has been since Tomas started to communicate again. For a while all that 'parallel universe' stuff scared him. It was SO real...because it WAS real. And then he was back here. Edith says 'time' can be like that. She knows. The Red Paint People tell her things. ...... Yeah, they're still here. Not in the city. Not in Philadelphia. They stay out in the Pines. Edith was out there too. But she came back today. She does that when it gets hot. Won't go down into the tunnels with the mole people, like Papa and Annie and Tomas and Sarah. Says it gives her the 'heebie-geebies.' She stays with Baylah. They live up above the piano bar... a jewel box of a place. Best of all, it's air conditioned. Edith needs that. You see, she's plagued by prickly heat.


Those tunnels don't bother me. They're dry and the old fashioned 'subway' tiles are 'in' right now. We stay in what used to be a series of offices and storage rooms. Like Hitler's bunker, 'cept without all them baby killers..... Well, Annie's a baby killer. She does try to be good, every once in a while. Lasts for about two weeks. Then she 'forgets' and chews through the necks of  some college kids, or like maybe some old lady sleeping on a bus. They got drivers don't pay attention. You can do that late at night. They don't care. Well, if you're a vampire they don't care. Because they know the body's gonna burn up with that cold, blue flame and not leave too much of a mess. Gonna be 'some' gooey stuff, maybe a scrap or two. No worse than when a high school kids drops Kentucky Fried Chicken and the rest a them all walk in it. They don't HAVE to walk in it. But destructive squalor is fun, I guess.


My eyes are closed. She workin' me like a Howdy Doody. You know, like a puppet, like he was?  I am settin' in a dark, little old-timey office. Ain't got no rats. Mole people got ways to get rid of 'em. Though they do keep some cleaned-up, domesticated ones for food. Taste like ugly squirrel. What, you thought I was gonna say 'chicken?'..... No, it don't taste like chicken. It greasier, gamier. Sort a like what duck is too chicken. ..... You know how many little bones they got in a rat tail? Too many. It's remarkable. 


I wanna go pee and she knows it. But she won't let me. Nose runnin' too. I got a chin beard and one thing I hate is snot on a mustache. But I can't even move my hand to smear it away.


She want me to tell you 'bout all her killin'. Luna got her. She a relatively new vampirina. Papa kissed her up real good. He gave it to her. She used to be one a them secret types workin' with Doctor Franklin and the Anti-Enchantment Bureau. Wern't no vampire back then, just some doctor-scientist girl. Guess she craved a change. Looked cool and sexy in them lab coats. Still has a couple. Uses them when she hunts the hospitals late at night. 


Now they at The Eastern State Penitentiary. That a huge, two hundred year old dungeon/jail. Look like a ruin, but that just for the tourists. They let you go in there when it's day time. Papa knows somebody. so they open it up at night. Not for big crowds, or regular people. Just for Annie. Just for his 'little girl.'  She like what they do there. Stock the place wit' maybe four or five make believe criminals. Look, they very well might be criminals, but never been convicted. Know what I mean? She sniff 'em out. They try an' hide. But she get 'em every time. 


Jus' now she got some guy hidin' under a cot. It dark. It real dark. You can't see nothin' in there. He thought he was safe. He thought she was 'done.' You know, like at a all you can eat, Chinese buffet, when one more piece a dull, dry shushi gonna make you throw up? Only she not at that point yet. First he hear a scratchin'. Think it a mouse. Then he hear breathin'. Think it the wind. Them long passageways they got there got their own wind, so that could be. Next come the whistling. She do like Tomas. She learn it from him. Start a whistling - TEDDY BEARS' PICNIC.------ When you go out in the woods tonight, you're in for a big surprise........ Then she give him the surprise. That when she bite part a his foot off. And all them little bones what run from the ankle to the toes are very sensitive, you know. Blood gushin' all out. He screamin'. He cryin'. She suckin' it all up. Tomas don't like when we say 'suckin.' He say vampires do not suck. And he right, most a the time. But this 'Annie,' and she sucks.


Luna don't actually go wit' her. She sit wit' the guards, or  the watchmen, or whatever they are. They got a little television in that place where they go. Luna like talk shows. Jay, Dave. Jimmy, that Scotland guy, Carson. Kathy and Hoda. I like Hoda. Hope she smash that other one right in the face one day. Who you think win a fight, Charlie Rose, or David Letterman? Wouldn't that be somethin'? Bet people'd pay money to see that. They should do it. Give the money to charity or them Kardashians, or somethin'. Maybe they could each fight a Kardashian gal too.


Now she got her head pushed in a his guts, suckin' all the blood up outta his liver. Don't make no noise, but I can 'see' his mouth movin.'  Damn, I feel sorry for him. That must feel awful funny.


Do you like liver?......... I hate it.


-------------------------------------------------------------------
bloody liver bloody liver bloody liver bloody liver bloody liver bloody liver bloody


please press that SHARE button. please leave us a COMMENT. thank you, from all of us 'Way Down Upon the Bloody River'

LOST EPISODES ARE FOUND ..ALBION (an elferino) conjures them back from The Akoshic Records

ALBION found something while searching through our history. Approximately 18 postings were lost. We are plagued by all manner of enchantment, some benign and some not so benign. With the help of EDITH, our Jersey Pine Barrens Pow-Wow Woman, he was able to conjure them back from the AKOSHIC RECORDS. We have them now and will post them, along with new material, from time to time. Yet they are there, if you's like to find them. Scroll down, or use the RSS. Be privy to secrets unknown  to most. 


And come back later tonight, when we share the story of ANNIE and her prey.


We of THE VAMPIRE WONDERLAND thank you, as we post this from the safety of our dens.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


leave a COMMENT. stitch your LINK onto our site. hit the SHARE button. Help our story LIVE