CAT AND MOUSE...VAMPIRE STYLE.

Conrad did not care about the Higgs Boson particle (Google it) nor recent developments in Mer-folk diplomacy. Edith kept them informed. She'd returned from a spell with her husband in the Pines. High temperatures drove her back. Not necessarily to the vampires, but to their air conditioning. True, Tomas and Sarah often spent days deep in the sub-basements of The Penn Museum. It was cooler there. But they also frequented a certain rarely rented suite in a severely modern, Center City, Philadelphia boutique hotel. The manager was a 'familiar.' Tomas brought him things...baubles, stacks of bills, vials of life preserving blood (just the tiny ones) and he provides convenient services in return. 


Sarah liked the decor..... dark rich, hardwood floors...recessed lighting....trim, sleek, grey velvet sofas..... a vast, tropical fish tank housing undulating clouds of black and white Zebra Fish. She sampled the gourmet vodkas on the bar. Life-eaters are not denied alcohol, probably because it's not an actual food. Whiskey, yes... pretzels no..... That's just the way it is. 


Tomas toyed with a not yet dead victim. The man, dressed in a cowboy hat and harem pants, sat cross-legged on a large, silk, peach colored pillow, his hands cuffed 'round an architectural pillar rising from the floor. From time to time he mumbled, promising money and whores and chocolate milk factories in France in exchange for his freedom. It was pathetic. His crimes were too great. Adulterated chocolate 'milk' can be lethal, especially to sensitive,  little children. And for that...he must die.


Our young/old Andalucian vampirino rubbed the mouse across the victim's lips. Almost anything can become food after seven days. At first the man cried. He retched. He pleaded. And Tomas pulled back. Then he rolled the stiff, cold rodent in the leftovers on Edith's salad plate....mostly tuna fish, I think, before offering it up once more.


The man reflexively drooled. His tongue peeked out to taste just a tiny bit of the savory fish and mayonnaise concoction...... but Tomas pulled back again. This time the victim broke into tears. He sniffed and whispered - More, more, more, please, more........ And Tomas gave him more, after plastering mousy's head with copious dollops of day-old egg salad for good measure.


The man ate, this time biting off a crunchy, little fore paw. You know, the fine, tiny bones add lots of texture. Tomas dangled the disgusting 'treat' just beyond the yellow, dirty teeth...... The starving man whimpered in frustration. Then the vampire lowered it back down, tickling a stubbled cheek with the dry, dead, pale pink nose. The poisoned chocolate milk baron opened wide, ready to take the meal. Tomas slowly lowered it onto his waiting tongue. For the first time in days the victim was happy, giggling manically  as he chewed.


Yet before he could swallow his noxious wad, Conrad (the former monk) knelt down to drain him dry.... but the victim never knew...and his jaws continued working after death.


Conrad never spilled a drop. Quick learner, that one.


Sarah put down her drink and sighed....... I want to go to the movies. - she said....... So Tomas took her out to see a show....... And after, while returning home, they stopped in a secluded alley for some dinner of their own..... just like the Lady and The Tramp...... Well, almost....


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SECRETS NOBODY TELLS YOU.... sojourns in the Mer-folk world

The Great Speaker looks a lot like Anderson Cooper, maybe not from the waist down. But you have to admit the white hair, pale skin and cerulean eyes suit Mer-folk, especially when paired with sleek, strong, dolphin-like tails. He laughs a lot too. Not that any sound is produced. Although the sharp, staccato pulses radiating from his trim midsection sometimes tickles...or so I'm told. 


Luna enjoys his company. Not that his Wifely Retinue likes it, but she's a guest, so the random couplings are tolerated...... inter-humanoid hospitality, after all. He even let let take a little taste... a few little tastes.... Papa teases her about 'having a 'thing' for seafood,' but he understands. Over the millennia  he's 'nested' with quite a few comely Lorelei. It's rumored he's even 'turned' a few. But that's only if you believe Homer. You can ask Papa, though he never says...


The United Nations passed a secret resolution. Mer-folk will be granted colonization rights in certain, isolated coastal areas. Three lie along uninhabited stretches of Western Australia. One surrounds a remote, military controlled island in Hawaii. I remember something about a California Channel island too. Supposedly there will be fifteen such habitations in all. Details are classified. 


For their part, Mer-folk have agreed to allow scientific testing and observation, all very humane. None of that perverted, Nazi, Mengele, Satan stuff. Don't want to make them angry. Not like we want them to fiddle with sub-surface sea flow. If you've been with us for a while, you know they can do that. A few discreet, little undersea landslides (well, maybe not so little) and the Gulf Stream, plus a lot a other 'streams' gonna go huey. You want Cherry Hill, New Jersey to wind up like Reykjavik?.... I don't.


Now, the truth is, small groups of fishy people have been frequenting isolated bays and estuaries all along. They accompany the great whales on their seasonal migrations. That's how vampires first encountered them in ages past. It also explains sightings, especially those claimed by scared, desperate whalers. Don't think there's any photographic record though. Not like that famous Big Foot film. Yes, it's real. What did you think? You know, Gorillas were viewed as mythological, Big Foot-like creatures a few hundred years ago, too. There's a lot out there. That's one of the reasons some governments are so eager to collaborate...with the Mer-folk, I mean. Gonna use them when we visit Europa. Vampires helped us link up with them. And they're gonna help us hook up with the Manta-Ray people. It's a small world, after all....the circle of life.... What do you want me to tell you.


Oh, before I go, let me tell you this. When the Great Speaker breached the surface to parlay with all them science guys on those ships, a few of them thought he actually WAS Anderson Cooper. Took videos and everything. But they never got the tail, so it don't count. What are they gonna say - We saw some cable TV cutie pie skinny dipping off some semi-tropical isle?..... Come on... What else is new? Besides, I hear 'First Womb' (like premiere wife, or queen) bears a striking likeness to one a them big assed, Kardashian girls... the real pretty one, I think. 


How many years you think it's gonna take before all this gets out? Me, I can't tell, because you never know with people..... Look, they STILL think vampires are fake, don't they? ..... OK, so they ain't like them lurid, sloppy, drooling bastards on HBO. Please, if vampires had fangs like that, they'd enslave about a million dentists. You KNOW how vain they are. Cat teeth...little cat teeth...That's what they got. And you ever know a sloppy-eatin' cat?


This is Zebulon  channelin' tonight. I been waftin' through the ether wit' Mister Never You Mind. That 'splains my pixilated way a speechifyin'...


May y' all bite into a right, nice Fourth of July, or Fourth a Thermador like them powder-wigged Frenchies called it...


Liberty, equality and whatever that third thing was.


Hasta la proxima to all human beans everywhere.


                                   1776 1776 1776 


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A GOOD BEGINNING ...welcome to the pixilated universe

The link below this will take you to our MOST POPULAR post. It's the sixteenth episode in THE LITTLE MATCH BOY series. Scroll around and explore. I do plan  to post more new material later tonight. (regulars know we do that almost EVERY night.) Connection issues may pose problems. I hope not, but internet gremlins do cruel and terrible things.


REMEMBER, Vampire Wonderland is just a name. We cover the universe and even our vampires are much more than what you'd expect.


So slip into OLD PRAGUE and join our little match boy, as he tries to survive the cold, hard, icy streets.

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. Ande...

vampire wonderland: THE LITTLE MATCH BOY~~~~ a re-telling of H.C. Ande...: The lumbering old derelict stomped toward them, as the little match boy frantically tried to budge the frozen door. Buh slitovani, Buh slito...

WHY DO THEY ALWAYS DO THIS TO ME!?!?

Repeatedly attempted to post blog tonight (actually early morning), but gremlin-like connection problems would not allow that to happen. And on the DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY TOO! 


I picture some post grad sitting in an office, in front of a monitor, having his way with me, as I agonize and implode before his very eyes...his digital ones, anyway.


But 'fiddle dee dee... tomorrow is ANOTHER day'


PLEASE Google Vampire Wonderland by Billy Kravitz or EL RANCHO TEXACO by Billy Kravitz or (what else did I write?..... OH, YEAH!) THE LITTLE MATCH BOY by Billy Kravitz ...


And leave a COMMENT. Talk about yourself, if you like. Let's get a little 'tertulia' going here.


Hasta la proxima y vaya con dios

IN THE REALM OF BLUE SHADOWS

They spoke not with words, but with clicks, or rather sharp little pulses of energy produced via rapid contractions of the lungs and sinuses. These organs functioned properly above the surface of the sea, yet performed different duties down under. And frequent trips up into the gaseous portion of our atmosphere were unnecessary. Those elements required for respiration entered their bodies through the skin. 


Papa comprehended this method of communication, because he was so old and had visited them countless times. I know not all the details, but some say he spent years with them and others talk of centuries. Perhaps his extraterrestrial friends, the sentient manta ray people of Europa, are not too different?


They took him deep within the caves, each limned with a thin layer of bio-luminescent microbes bathing everything and everyone in soft, blue light. Luna stayed behind him. She was quite unconcerned about her nakedness, for all about her were likewise exposed. Males and females had similar ventral slits, though the interior equipment was conventional in every way. Occasional, something would pop out, but the males concerned showed no discomfort. It all seemed natural.


Two among their number came up to accompany Papa into another, more commodious chamber, carpeted with sugary, fine, pink sand. Luna followed. There, at the end of a long, straight gallery sat the leader. Well, maybe 'sat' is not the right term, for he reclined against a smooth concavity worn into the old, coral surface. I believe the material was brought down from sunnier levels generations ago.


The whole place resonated with scores of Mer-folk 'voices'. Papa used hand signals. I suspect they were more complex than that, compromising  something like a lingua franca for the many nations of the undersea world.


Luna did her best. She tried to pick up what she could telepathically. And due to her training (at the hands of The Anti-Enchantment-Bureau) she understood a lot.


The vitality of the race, if one could call it a race, was declining, although their inherent attractiveness still came through. They needed sunlight. Some bands initially tried living pelagic lives upon the surface, forming sizable 'rafts' of homo-aquaticus upon the golden waves. Yet even sea folk grow tired, descending down to the ocean floor, there to take their rest.


Papa heard the lament and promised to sing it to the dry-folk. He knew there could never be a wholesale migration back to most coastal areas, but he felt sure certain safe havens could be arranged.


When it was time, they broke to take their supper, dining on succulent oysters and other delicious bivalves. They had prisoners for the vampires. Mer-folk blood is much like ours, but Papa declined. Luna, it must be said, was eager for this new experience, however Papa restrained her. She did not like it, but bowed to his greater wisdom, accepting samples of his own blood instead.


This continued for ten nights, the Mer-folk equivalent of our week. At one point a ship anchored up above and via speakers lowered on stout cables, serenaded the foreign creatures with sounds of dry-folk life. Another dropped hundreds of crates of live shrimp, a delicacy in these parts and much appreciated by those in attendance. 


Luna went off to examine Mer-folk settlements spread 'round about, paying particular attention to the young ones, searching for any signs of solar deprivation...... And she found many.


Finally, Papa was called up to the surface, so that he could address (via Skype)a hastily formed United Nations committee. None of this was public. How could it be in a world where many cultures still denied biological causes for disease and others believed righteous souls of 'lesser' communions writhed in torment for all eternity?


Perhaps one day such ludicrous concealment will not be necessary.


But unfortunately... now it is...


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THE VAMPIRES ENCOUNTER MERMAN AND DESCEND TO SOMEPLACE NEW

The huge whale surfaced just off the coast of a small island. A lacy, veil of windswept clouds raced 'cross a yellow moon. And then he began to sing. Tomas felt the pulsating rhythms. He pressed into Luna. She felt them too. Ten heartbeats later, the opaque, rubbery barrier, secreted by the leviathan, began to deteriorate. Strips of thick, elastic mucus peeled back, exposing the vampire couple to the chill, night air. The lights of Bermuda glowed over the horizon, but our preternatural twosome was headed somewhere else. 


Tomas kicked off from his gigantic steed. Luna did the same. They swam through the sea  toward the island, wading up onto a crowded rookery. Masses of sea birds, large gulls, or perhaps some type of albatross, screamed at their advance, surrendering just enough space for the invaders to sit down. 


He brushed back her hair, flicked little bits of seaweed from her smooth, white skin and kissed her. She trembled, not from the cold, but in anticipation. Papa was practiced. Papa was thorough. Papa was good. And he satisfied himself, there in that enchanted place, before an audience of dozing smelt-eaters and their wide-eyed, fuzzy chicks. Luna found pleasure too. And they held each other upon the soft, gray sand.


The vampirina listened to his heartbeat. She heard it quicken and looked up as the first merman emissary broke the surface. How very human he looked..... How very 'terrestrial'... a well formed head.... a strong, thick neck and broad, shapely shoulders. He bore no sash or torque. There was no outward sign of rank. But he said something, or rather made some foreign, sea-folk sounds. Papa responded in Old Vamperigo, a very early dialect, akin to ancient Lusitanian tongues spoken in Western Iberia eons ago.


They got up, stepped down along the beach, careful not to harm their avian neighbors, and walked into the sea. Fifteen heartbeats later, the silvery wavelets reached their chins and they began to swim out to a place where a squadron of merman circled 'round them. Some reached out to stroke their thighs and calves. Sea-folk love exploring dry-folk legs. And Luna gasped as they tickled some where else...... Soon after, the mermen descended. The vampires followed. And the last thing to show above the moonlit ripples was the glistening, rounded orbs of Luna's cheeks...


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