Vampire Mob Season Two COMPLETE! ...THE BEST! Like RAY DOVOVAN WITH FANGS!

Why ain't this on cable TV? Got SHOWTIME written all over it....WATCH THIS... Take an hour (almost) and see what talented people can do. Then please click on @JoeWilsonTV ...and tell him how much you like it. Besides Vamire Mob, he also creates and oversees @PLShorts ... and the much anticipated @fearthecrypt .... Why don't you go follow all of them? Yo, 'creative' people... this means us.

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Billy
p.s. I wanna talk about Joe and his sites too. If you want, contact me on twitter at @wilkravitz ... More Vampire Wonderland stuff later.

The Vampire Known as Tomas Floats Free In A Void and Other Places Too ... 11/24/13

And then they were gone from that place. The dusty ruins of the old Gimbel Brothers subway store lay far behind. Tomas found himself floating in a warm, misty, milky-white void. There was no up. There was no down... No shadows and no breeze. Our favorite vampirino surveyed his body and was pleased to find the nasty boo-boos inflicted by that loathsome ghoul were almost gone. 'Papa's' work, no doubt, for maybe three heartbeats later that venerable uber-vampire condensed out of the void and began to solidify. 

Tomas whispered (it seemed disrespectful to talk) - Where am I?.... And his vampiric progenitor pointed toward him and said - Over there.... (No use arguing with one as powerful as that). Then they just floated,  like weightless astronauts in space. 'Papa' yawned, scratched his belly and sighed. Tomas dozed. Perhaps he nodded off. Hard to tell in such comfy surroundings. Maybe Limbo used to be like this before it got cancelled?

But subsequently, things began to change. I say 'subsequently' because time was immaterial, just as it must be after death. you know, when someone conks out (eternally, I mean) one nano second's the same as a billion years. And ten thousand eternities but a heartbeat. Look, you know what that's like. You were dead before you were born. Makes waiting for The Resurrection so less tedious.....

 Then the void slowly grew translucent. some parts seemed brighter. Some parts less dense. The cloud (if that's what it was) gradually dissolved and our two preternatural beings found themselves drifting through space. Stars blazed all around them. Here a comet. There a comet. Here a nebula. There a nebula.... Like a whole bunch of glittery stuff dangling in a real big diorama. Except nothing actually glittered of flickered much since they were lost in space and minus any atmosphere to shake things up. Each star had it's own special color. Some were red. Some were orange. Some were yellow. Some were blue. And when they drifted close to some, the stellar coronas danced like magic auras.

Tomas was surprised they were so small. Most no bigger than a softball, though occasional basket balls and ping-pong balls were present too.  Planets ranged in size from dust mote to bee-bee pellet. Asteroids were invisible, though  comets shined bright and distinct. Tomas passed his hand through a tail (cometary, I mean.) , so cool... so ethereal.  And when part of his butt brushed against  a yellow star, not unlike our sun, he was surprised it only stung a little bit.... 'Papa' made sure they didn't disturb any of the planets, since some may harbor life and the sight of immense, naked, humanoids filling up the sky was bound to be frightful enough as it is.

Then he said - Creation is really so boring. Anyplace worth going to is round. No variation. Just round. ..... And Tomas wondered how the sound was able to reach his ears without any air. But he just mumbled - Uh huh... as his groin passed over a world filled with beings celebrating their summer solstice. Needless to say, mounds and mounds of alien potato salad were left unconsumed, as the populace endured a spectacle no Macy's Day balloon could ever match.

(more next time)...

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A TWENTY EIGHT THOUSAND YEAR OLD UBER VAMPIRE TEACHES A GHOUL A LESSON... 11/22/13

Now to get back to the dusty, buried remains of the old Santa's Toyland, hidden in the bowels of the long forgotten Gimbels Department Store....

The vampire known as Tomas lay on the floor and retched all over a tumbled display of Weevles (they wobble, but they won't fall down). And a thin, rather iridescent, sticky 'gruel' dribbled from his mouth with each gnawing contraction. A roach or too scurried over to taste it, but soon realized the exotic nature of this soup and ran back to their secret dens. 

'Papa' stopped, looked down at his stricken 'son' and the pain immediately lessened. This twenty eight thousand year old presence has great power. No showy hand gestures or Elizabethan verse spells for him. He thinks, therefore it is. Then he turned his gaze to the strange, almost physical ghost and walked on. 

Now ghouls are a rare breed...' survivors' of premature burial. Oh the actual bones rest moldering in a crypt somewhere, but the essence, the spirit, of the soul so tortured, races from the unbelievable horror of the situation, erupting from the earth like a rocket. And the tight, hard knot of terror draws power (the ether is always willing to release a little of that). And the power condenses into something dense and 'real' and cold. Cannibals they are... cravers of human flesh... dead flesh 'cause it's easy... live flesh 'cause it's hot. Makes them feel all real. In that way they share a bit of the magic with vampires. But those noble princes of the night despise them.

Not every soul gone live to the grave becomes such. Most lost darlings gasp, cry, scream, thrash, scrape their fingers to nubs (true, the bones pierce through the flesh), smash their noggins 'gainst the lid (noggins get bloody too), gasp some more, wheeze a little, whisper prayers and die. Them's the pious ones. Some what ain't pious end like this... like Johnny Jump Up, over there... He's scared. Would shit hisself, if he could, but the energy what moves him is strong, immediately burning up each gobbet of meat, leaving him empty, always empty. He smiled at 'Papa,' showing that silvery, shark toothed grin. Maybe he meant to scare him. I don't know. But what a fool he is. Can't put no fear in one like this. 

'Papa' moves closer. The fiend lurches back and crab walks up a Christmas tree shaped display of Great Garloos . Thirty six inch tall green, plastic, robot geniis tumble to the floor. Some of them still talk. They croak - Your wish is my command... Your wish is my command.... 'Papa' points at the ghoul... The terrified thing yells - No! No! No!.. as his body rapidly shrinks to the size of a small, manikin-like doll... Not Barbie... Not Ken... More like Skipper (we disembodied spirit narrators know many things). And the uber vampire scoops him up like a runaway ferret. He holds him. He strokes him. The thing cries. It whines and pleads for mercy. But there will be none of that tonight, for the twenty eight thousand year old avenger presses down hard and crushes him, breaking every 'imaginary' (though to the ghoul, quite real) bone in his body..... The crying stops... 'Papa' cleans his hands on Strawberry Shortcake's dress. Then he drops her to the floor. Two heartbeats later the roaches come out to dine. Maybe the feast seems real to them? Perhaps they're ghost things too?

And whether the thing known as Johnny Jump Up is gone for good, I do not know. Events are quite fluid in the night world. Magic is so hard to pin down.

Then the powerful being picks up his injured 'son' and departs, leaving only frightened child ghosts peering from the corners of this ruined, dusty space lit by dozens and dozens of false, plastic, lithium fueled candles. Heartbeats pass and even the ghosts dissolve, as abandoned toys alone in the feeble, glow look on...

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The Christmas Candle Official Trailer 1 (2013) - Susan Boyle, Hans Mathe...

You know how seriously our vampirino, Tomas, also known as Jonathon takes his faith. He's said - If miraculous creatures such as we can exist, who can deny the existence of so much more. 
May the 'Season of Miracles' be joyful for you and yours, no matter which part of Abraham's Robe you hold on to. Enjoy the cozy trailer. Links~> 1,300 MORE BLOG EPISODES ... HERE'S WHERE WE ARE ON TWITTER... please explore and as always, your COMMENTS mean a lot to us. thank you.... And now the trailer...

VAMPIRE VERSUS DEMONIO NECROFAGO... LIFE EATER versus DEATH EATER... 11/20/13

And the 'espiridion' froze. For to Tomas it was but a 'little spirit' in no way equal to him. This twisted demonic cannibal is anathema to everything El Mundo Vampirido stands for. But of course you know I speak of the 'noble' breed. 'Noxious' vampires will do anything and 'eat' anyone. And our Sephardic 'grandee' hates them too. So proud these ancient Spaniards are. A millennium spent wandering other realms cannot change that.

But the creature known as Johnny Jump Up was elusive and hard to pin down... less a physical being, more an extremely strong and focused ghost able to manipulate matter with exacting certainty... thus the teeth... thus the claws... thus the strength. He eats because he wills himself to eat. Physical hunger has nothing to do with it. Like a hologram with substance he is. And he smiled when Tomas bit his ear. For no sooner did the vampire loose his grip then the wound disappeared. How can one vanquish smoke?

It went on like that for a bit. They tumbled down to the floor, gouging and biting... lunge and parry... lunge and parry.  Tomas lost an eye, sucked out by his ghostly adversary. Ghouls love that trick. Severing optic nerves is a big thing to them... a treat... a signature move. And Tomas, ever cognizant of his white-hot, throbbing eye (or what was left of it) and an almost testicular, excruciating pain, tore out a nice big chunk of ghoulish loin. But there was no blood in it, for once ripped from the fiend it quivered for an instant, then flickered before dissipating into nothingness. Demonios necrofago can do that. All spiritual entities can. The apparent solidity of their form but an illusion.... though a very 'real' and strong one....

Tomas sprawled on the old, wooden floor amidst shattered doll houses and smashed model planes. A few conventional ghosts, child ghosts, watched from the darkest shadows, not knowing what to make of it all, as the ghoul just stood there and grinned, revealing a rictus of small, silver, shark-like teeth . Tiny, fat maggots crawled over his black serge suit, but they were illusions too.... and how do you kill a dream?

Perhaps a heartbeat later the Johnny Jump Up thing crouched down and whispered - Stand clear of me, 'tarantula' (a ghoulish slur). Then he coldly studied the stricken vampire, before leaning in to bite off a cheek. 'Espiridion' indeed... Vampires can be so presumptuous... so vain... and so wrong.

But before our fine, 'young' vampirino suffered further harm a phantom breeze moved through the space... a shifting of the ether if you will, accompanied by the salty tang of ozone... Then a soft voice said - Who troubles my offspring?... as a figure bearing a strong resemblance to a thirty threeish Richard Gere, though dressed in clothes from I don't know where condensed out of the darkness...

And Tomas mouthed the word 'Papa,' before lapsing into the vampire equivalent of unconsciousness...

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A VAMPIRE CONFRONTS A GHOUL.... 11/19/13

It all happened very quickly. Tomas sat ruminating on Santa's old Toy Land throne (see last night's episode) when one of the child-ghosts, in these dusty shadows, started whimpering...a lost keening sound, akin to an old violin on a dark, drizzly night. The spirit saw, or felt something. So sensitive they are. And after a heartbeat or two our vampirino 'Hamlet' (well, sort of) also felt it.

He rose from his resting place and began to explore... silently... stealthy, like a cat. I don't know why simpletons liken them to bats. They're much more feline in nature with perhaps a pinch of arachnid thrown in. But that's just me... and disembodied, spirit narrators are so particular.

After a bit he picked up the scent... thin and weak, for spectral beings are subtle that way. But the taste of blood was in the air... dead blood... young blood. Then he saw him, perched upon a tall stack of cartons, hastily pushed into a corner during the last days of this place. The midnight fiend, known as Johnny Jump Up finished a meal, gnawing on the ragged remains of juvenile thigh muscle left clinging to a none too fresh femur. The cadaverous monster in his tight, black suit mindlessly savored each semi-dry morsel. You know how ghouls get when they dine? But the vampire, Tomas, ever aware of his surroundings, moved closer, creeping up on old displays (Motorized Erector Set! $9.95!) and surviving, though non-functioning, light fixtures.

Night-folk here about despise ghouls, tragic though they are (victims of pre-mature burial) and confront them at every turn. Odd that the greasy haired monster crawled in here. They usually favor rooftops. Something must be afoot.

But his vampiric adversary cared little for dark-time politics, as he soundlessly crept across  the ceiling, coming to rest just above the loathsome head. The scent, thin though it was repulsed him. He stopped and steeled himself a moment before creeping down the wall, coming to rest behind the chalk skinned ghoul. Then he silently leaned in, delivering a quick, little nip to the monster's rancid ear.....

Time froze for a moment. Such a macabre, artistic composition they made, there in the feeble glow from the battery powered, liar-candles.

But an instant later it was over... and the razor sharp battle was on....

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