A VAMPIRE CONJURES A MIRACLE OF SORTS... 1/29/14

Tomas woke up. It was about 2:00AM. He threw off the two afghans, trembled a little and reached for the decanter. No ice in the bucket, just cold, metallic water. You'd think they'd have like a little, built-in refrigerator behind one of those paneled doors, or something. Maybe they did, but he didn't feel like looking so he drank room temperature Grey Goose. Then he opened the draperies over one of the not-real windows (just a tiny bit.. he liked the safe, closed in feel) and peeked out through the authentically glazed multi-pane window.... Some girl, an eighteenth century doxie, frantically fights off a late colonial, or possibly early Federalist ripper. He has a knife. She has a hat pin. And back-in-the-day hat pins were very substantial weapons.... like a thin, rigid, sharp tipped knitting needle. Whores used them like swords. But this girl wasn't 'on the game,' so she lost. The blood poured out, thoroughly ruining her cloak. Some kind of rabbit lined velvet, I think it was. She lay on the cobbles like a doll. The ripper snatched a bauble and ran off. Tomas was very absorbed in the scene and failed to notice, or considering his vampire nature, didn't care when a narrow bookcase pivoted out into the room and Doctor Franklin edged in. 

Quite a realistic show. Is it not, my dear boy? - said the old man.... Tomas nodded and whispered - Yes, it is.... Franklin sighed and said - Clean the scene..... The body disappeared. So did the blood. Soon it began to snow. Indeed, the outer surfaces of the panes even grew cold...... Voice activated - explained Franklin....... I'm impressed - answered his night-folk guest, as he waited for the enduring patriot to continue. Franklin sat down opposite, opened a door in a nearby commode table (apparently there was a small refrigerator after all) and took out a chilled can of Seven Up. Then he popped the top and began to drink. After downing a few swigs he said - No sugar. No food value. There's really nothing in it but water and chemicals. You can have some, if you like. But Tomas just shook his head. Franklin understood. This vampire was something of an aesthete and occasional episodes of self-denial suited him.

Why have you disturbed me? - asked Tomas, as he leafed through the copy of A TREE GROWS IN BROOKLYN..... He's going crazy, you know, if he's not already completely insane. Levitated up through the straps, he did.Well, I guess he has enough life-eater (polite term for vampire) blood in him for that. - said Franklin. Cried, thrashed around. Scratched up the ceiling pretty good. Tried to kill himself. Tried to set himself on fire via a triumph of the will. Spontaneous human combustion. He wanted to make it so...... Tomas thought for a bit, then said - He didn't do it? Did he?..... If you mean is he dead? No, he's not dead. But he did start a fire. More like a hot aura that radiated all around his body, dancing just above the skin - said the old man..... Tomas was amazed. No vampire had ever done that before. Oh, maybe exceptionally old entities like "Papa,' or The Lady Renate, or Madam Shang might accomplish such a thing.  But even then it might be just an illusion. You know some magic, just some, is really a type of mass hypnosis. More than modern, scientific hypnosis. Those effected needn't succumb  simultaneously. But the effects were still transitory.  Franklin thought Usipov's incendiary ability might be similar. But medical staff failed to find any burns. Usipov's skin was clear. Though if he had achieved fire, or something very much like fire, this was a whole new thing. A living mortal... a being not truly vampire, though infused with vampiric blood  had managed to conjure energy via mind power alone. 

For once, the old alchemist was dumbfounded, while the thousand year old life-eater in his eighteen year old body just laughed...

What would mankind do with this new toy?

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VAMPIRES HAVE 'HEALTH' PROBLEMS TOO ...... 1/27/14

It didn't work. Nothing they did helped. Tomas drained almost all the blood out of the new body, the one they got from the Moscow haberdasher's assistant. Then he bit open his wrist (after keeping the apparently life giving elixir percolating in his own body for what seemed like a long enough period of time) and gave drink to the pathetic deaf and blind thing. Maybe some of the 'resonance' got through? Maybe he heard, or felt it, for whatever combination of human presence there was in that body took it in. And they did this over and over and over. Doctor Franklin dozed off a few times. He went into his quarters, watched some TV... played video games. He has all the latest versions, even some real good unreleased stuff. One game has these contact lenses. The player needs contact lenses. They create a world. No, they alter a world. You still see what you'd normally see, only changed a bit. Creatures condense out of the ether, mess with you...scare you... touch and move things around the house.... Some of what they do might even hurt. But via motion sensitive gloves and a few voice commands, you can 'get' them. Franklin loves it. He needs help with the contacts. Various domestics assist with that. I can't tell you their names, because he rotates them out of the residence and into other positions on a monthly basis. Doesn't like them to know him that well. I don't know why. It's a phobia.  But the recently incarnated one time Russian vampire-oligarch, known as Grigori Usipov is still up Shit's Creek. Vampires are such sensual beings, aware in so many ways . Now here he is, locked in a place devoid of light, imagery and sound. And he's not even a vampire anymore. Not yet anyway. Maybe they'll think of something else.

Technicians came and disconnected the trembling, more or less, human thing from all the tubes and crap. Tomas went back to the residence (an extensive area within the complex). Not where Franklin was. Let the old reprobate enjoy his gadgets in peace. The pensive vampire took his leave in the library... a real library, a book lined enclosure, a cozy sanctum, rich in leather and fine varnished wood. Wing chairs... it actually had wing chairs and crystal decanters filled with clear (or nearly clear) distillations just right for a vampire to enjoy. Actually, the space wasn't really that big, just big enough, with cozy corners and glossy, porcelain lamps providing just the right amount of light. They even had hand crocheted afghans, for God's sake. Look, the townhouse very commodious too, but this library is special... so special that Tomas actually cried.  And what did he read? Was it something so out of the ordinary? No. Three books... he took three books off the shelves. A Tree Grows In Brooklyn, because he's a sucker for tear jerkers. The Catcher In The Rye, 'cause you know what a do gooder he is. Tomas identifies with the kid. Thinks he's a Sephardic, Jewish, Spanish, vampire version of Holden Caulfield. And some new edition of a men's dressing and grooming thing because vanity, or maybe just an awareness of his physical presence, is a big thing with him. Then he settled in, poured himself a nice, little 'old fashioned' glass of some high priced vodka and began to read.  Fourteen hundred heartbeats later he fell asleep. Soon after, someone came in, probably one of the domestics, put his feet up on an ottoman, covered him with an afghan (no, two afghans), freshened the ice in case he woke up and wanted more booze, dimmed the lights (which weren't so bright to begin with) and left. While on the other side of the closed draperies an eighteenth century, autumn winter night played out beyond the multi-pane windows on the realer than real, cutting edge video screens. All vampires should shelter underground, especially in quarters like this. Tomas dreamed of mortal days in Al Andaluz and the artificial heat almost felt like the sun.

Usipov spent a different night, strapped in a bed, locked in a damaged shell, buried in darkness. Human... he was human now, after a fashion. Well, he wasn't vampire, but he did have vampire blood in him. Tomas gave him that. He could concentrate. He could focus. You don't know how laser-like night-folk concentration can be. But Usipov does. And he 'prays' and he thinks and he weaves it all together, repeating over and over in Old Slavonic - Gospodi pomiluy. Gospodi pomiluy . (God have mercy). He prayed for the sweet, hot, light of God to find him and set him ablaze. He prayed to spontaneously combust and fade away.

Now most vampires don't believe in that. Spontaneous 'human' combustion is an illusion, a mortal explanation of the 'cold' blue flames that eat up all night-folk victims. Sometimes there are witnesses. Sometimes people see things. They try to explain, so a legend is born.

But Usipov believes in miracles. And in a world with 'magic' and 'resonance,' how could that not be so?

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THEY TRY VAMPIRE MAGIC ON GRIGORI USIPOV plus THINGS YOU AIN'T SUPPOSED TO KNOW.. 1/27/14

They took him into one of the laboratories. The 'new' Grigori Usipov, I mean. Strapped him down to a table and infused him with a relatively small amount of vampire blood. Got it fresh from Tomas. He just sat in what looked like a big dentist's chair all hooked up to like a blood donation set-up. Think he was sleeping. Eyes were closed. Had ear buds in. you know how some of the sound always leaks out from ear buds? As least enough for a disembodied, spirit, narrator like me to hear. Just Give Me A Reason by Pink, I think it was. Tomas likes her. Met her once at Baylah's rich, financier, boyfriend's house at the shore. I don't think she knew they were vampires (Tomas and Baylah). Probably thought they were reformed druggies who still thought like druggies. You know how them night-folk act? They look at each other. They make eyes. They laugh. Sometime when they nervous they shake their knees real fast. Or when they moving through a crowd and nobody wanna let 'em go buy, gotta remember real hard they vampires and not people, so they don't start sublimating through living bodies and ripping them all to shreds. That happened once on The Titanic, let me tell you. People did see. People did notice, but them what did went gug-gug-gug down to the bottom of the cold, dark sea, so who cares? 

What was I telling you? Oh yeah, Tomas gettin' his blood pumped into that deaf, blind, temporarily human, vampire-oligarch, Russian guy. Franklin had a theory. Don't want a make him into no vampire. Wants him human. Wants him mortal. But it don't work. They been dripping vampire blood into him for hours. Let Tomas more or less kill some prisoner the cops sent over to fortify him. He on death row anyway, so this like an interestin', little trip. Let him go see all the freaks first. Prisoner-what-about-to-be-killed throw herring to the sea-hag... Say 'hi' to Jersey Devil kid... Look at Sasquatch for a while. Then when he say he gotta go pee, they let him go. Got a clean, little tiled toilet near where they keep the freaks, so it ain't no big thing. 

When he 'bout done, Tomas sublimate through door. Switch out the light. Death row guy go - Shit!... He not know what gone on. Tomas grab his head, twist it 'round. That make blood vessel stick out. Vampire like a good, hot vein. That like steak. And he not got real big teeth. Not like no wolf , or them Draculas they got in them Hammer films. Tomas discrete vampire. Most 'noble' ones we got 'round here like that. Our vampires got fangs... little sharp, keen, lethal fangs. Cut real quick. Like needles they is. Death row guy go - Uh oh... and then he dead.  Two, three heartbeats later he combust into 'cold' blue flame. Cleanin' lady go in to swab up all the grease and ashes. She use that orange oil stuff. Clean up vampire leavin's real good. Don't say so on the bottle, but it do. Them what work with night-folk know that.

But vampire mo-jo not work this time. Grigori Usipov new body still blind... still deaf. When it not sleepin' (they keeps it drugged up), it cry... it fidget... maybe let go with a fart every once in a while.... smack its lips...fists all balled up. Franklin feel bad, 'cause he think it gonna work. Went all the way to Russia to make it so. Remind me to tell what all night-creeps and ghosts Zak Bagans (yeah, you can click on that) see when he pull in a that eerie, isolated hell-hole. But that another story an' he gotta sign off on it. Nobody really know what night-creep is. It not a ghost... Not a ghoul. It a whats-it. Like a stand by foot a bed when folks sleepin' or sit on they chest. Bite toe off every once in a while. Suck eye ball out. You know what I mean.

Tomas wake up, look around an' say - Damn, why you not jus' lemme change him?..... An' they know he right. But nobody want another vampire. America and Canada already got too many night-folk. Can't ride no bus without mushin' up against one. An' some don't even say ''scuse me.'.....

But just before hoagies get delivered (bureau got good commissary, but sometime they like a call out) they let him do it. Blind-deaf spirit a Grigori Usipov know what goin' on. He know what happenin' to him and he laugh and laugh and laugh. When he gotta drink all that blood outta Tomas he do it. He like a veteran. Don't gotta tell that fella.

Now I not know what kind vampire he gone be second go 'round, 'cause magic settle different every time. Remember, it ain't bein' no vampire. It havin' the magic... the 'resonance' like they call it.

This Mister Never you Mind talkin'. But them what been with us a while know that. I the disembodied, spirit narrator. I like a featured player 'round here. Howdy do folks. Nice to see you....... Now, what I gonna tell you 'bout that genetic engineering shit? It gettin' late, so I just do the basics and tie it all up later. But they got treatments. They got genes from turtles and whales. From them what don't know when to die.  Big whales, great blues and all, sperm whales, sea turtles, giant tortoise... You know, they go more'n two hundred years.
Ketched one swimmin' 'round California what got two hundred year old slug wedged in it. Figure some sailor on the H.M.S. Bounty shot it. That what they say. Got therapy. Got treatments. Got everything. Got serum wit' whale shit in it. Not the real shit. I jus' say that. I mean the genes. Got turtle genes too. Genes what don't know when to die. Shoot it into people's asses. Not with guns. Wit' needles. Gun'd be funny though. 'Quit twitchin'. I gotta pop this in a your ass!' Can you imagine if a doctor, or a nurse say that?! I do not think the government would like that. 

Government don't mind 'em sellin' it to rich folks though. Got spas out west, near Aspen and Lake Tahoe. You can get it.... if you can pay. Why you think they got so many ninety eight year old white lady dowagers.? And the wrinkled up mens too? Why you think all kind a hundred year old rich folk eatin' 'early bird specials' down Florida? And them what real rich get somethin' even better. I would tell you, but I feared what they do to spirit folk, 'cause I jus' a kind a energy an' they got ways a controllin' that. 

So lemme stop now... 'cause I already said enough.

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The Vampire , Tomas, Tells More and Noah Levine Makes Good Fright Vids 1/25/14

Tomas went to Doctor Franklin's complex. He liked The Anti-Enchantment Bureau. Sometimes he even lets Doctor Franklin study him. He's been hooked up to the Grand Armonica... hung suspended in the air on a 'web' of carefully balanced sound waves. The 'residence,' the part where Franklin lived was pretty good too. Like a pretentious, old, eighteenth century house... polished floors... fine carpets... handmade furnishings. Even had a harpsichord. not an old one. Three music history majors at Penn built it, but it looked old. Sounded old too. And the windows! The windows were a marvel. Remember, the whole place is underground, so they were really high definition video screens, but the real good ones, like the Japanese have. And the sights seen through each were completely authentic.... horse drawn traffic... boys rolling barrel hoops.... old patriarchs in sedan chairs... costermongers... dashing members of the militia, mounted  on high stepping, chestnut chargers. Weather changed with the season. ..... All C.G.I.. During visits, Tomas would sit in the inglenook for hours, staring out at illusions from long ago... and not just night, but daylight too. A vampire, like Tomas, appreciated that. Life in Franklin's residence felt almost normal. Even had a small, fragrant kitchen garden out the backdoor. The sky must have been a screen too. Clouds looked real. And the sun was just right. 

They sat and played chess. Tomas and the Doctor, I mean. Franklin claimed the pieces were carved from Indian ivory, specially for a Sassanid emperor in far off Persia. Tomas suspected a more recent provenance, but the ivory was still quite good. Thousand year old vampires know these things.  It was all in the weight, in the heft. You could feel that right away. and since he was technically a guest here, he almost always let the old scientist win.

With the last checkmate Doctor Franklin looked up and said - Will you help him?........ Tomas sighed - Yes, I suppose so..... Then he turned and studied the pathetic, newly incarnated vampire-oligarch babbling away in the corner. Franklin had him dressed in one of the Kelly green Philadelphia Eagles sweat suits. After all, he had chests filled with them. Front office contacts sent new ones every year. So let the one time vampire-oligarch drool all over it. Let him mumble to himself. He can't see. He can't hear. The switch over in Russia didn't go right. Can you blame him?

Tomas could have just sent over vials of his blood. But Franklin says he wants 'fresh.' He's got his reasons. He's got his theories.  Too much trauma. And he doesn't know what happened to the Moscow, haberdasher's assistant who vacated the body to make room for the homeless vampire spirit in the first place. Feels guilty, I guess. 

'Papa,' Tomas' twenty eight thousand year old progenitor, has this thing he does. But remember at his age he got a lot a 'resonance' vibrating around him. I don't know if he still need a be no vampire, or if it is just a habit. If you read the part 'bout 'magic' last time, you know. 

But he can whoosh your spirit out a your body real fast..... like a big-flush-modern toilet in a men's room... WHOOSH!... you gone.... Pow! send you right to the sun. Feel like you still in the flesh, but you ain't. You floatin' right over what look like lava for giants... Like lava for BIG giants. Them hundred foot waves beneath you really eight thousand mile waves. But you don't burn, because you body ain't wit' you. An' you wanna close your eyes, but you can't, 'cause eyelids ain't wit' you either. So you look at sights so huge they make you crazy. Even when he whoosh you back, you still gone be crazy. You still gone be screamin' crazy, 'cause you see what nobody should ever see...not close up like that.  An every star you see at night jus' the same. Some much worse. Much bigger. Much hotter. Stars is the main thing. Planets just dust. Planets just little bitty dingle-berries swirlin' 'round some big, old horrible scary thing in the sky. And that's the way it is. 

You know planet can move 'round don't you? Other world drive by real fas' , bump you right out a there. Send you flyin'. Oceans get all shook up. Wash over land like a mountain. But you not got a worry, 'cause when you see wave what push clouds away, you not gonna get drowned. You gone get smashed.. You gone go 'POP,' jus' like bubble in plastic wrap. An' you gone feel it all too. It happens... Nature doan care. Nature doan even know you here...

Some a you gone dream 'bout it. Maybe it not a dream? Maybe you rememberin' somethin'... somethin' you seen once?... Who knows? 

Universe got lot a shit gone on... like a big Rube Goldberg wit' knives and teeth and rocks and fire.

Tomas gone help. He gone help Doctor Franklin right somethin'. 

Look at that mumblin' blind, death thing in the corner. Wonder what he sees?

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ALL PARANORMAL ENTITIES ARE BUT MANIFESTATIONS OF 'THE RESONANCE' ... 1/24/14

There is no narrator tonight and Billy (also known as wilkravitz) is at the cinema attending a showing of 12 Years A Slave. Edith is at Bingo. Some games go after midnight here. Leo and Conrad are off doing Leo and Conrad mischief . Are they killing someone? I don't know. They don't tell me and I don't ask. I suppose I could use my powers to find the truth... but I don't want to.  And the elferinos and elferinas are off with my companion, Dona Sarah (she laughs when I call her that) giving blood gifts to the poor and preserving the innocent. 

I, Jonathon ben Macabi, also known as Tomas de Macabea am home alone. I hear the deep, steady, quiet ticking of the long clock . And the late news is on, but I don't care. It's not news. Nothing ever changes. People don't care. I can only go by what I see... And I've seen things for a long time. 

You know me as a vampire. Indeed, I call myself a vampire. True, I do not like that word. 'Life Eater' is the correct term, if you care. Whatever you call it, it's but one example of what, I suppose you'd call 'the magic.' We reflect that force in various ways. And it fills creation. The witch-folk have it... Lucid Wanderers... Shape Changers.... although I've really never seen a Shape Changer. Other night-folk have. There might have been one or two last year during those nights in London, but I wouldn't swear to it. 

Scientists delve into this thing too. They say (at least now they do) the omniverse is an infinite collection of ever smaller 'points,' each vibrating to its own particular frequency. Atoms are not the smallest thing. Electrons are not the smallest thing. They are just among the smallest things to be named.

Artists have 'the magic.' Well, we all have 'the magic.'  You do too. Artists merely recognize it. They see and feel and taste the texture of it. While most people shut tight their eyes and feign it is not there. What thing do they fear? I do not know.

They want me to go to that place, the scientific labyrinth beneath the Navy Yard.... Doctor Franklin's place. He has that thing... the reembodied vampire spirit called Grigori Usipov. He has it locked into a new body, but a blind and deaf one.... What a perfect prison for an evil vampire.

Will I use my blood to cure him, or to free him, or to, in some way, improve his circumstance?...(sigh)... I think I will.

Don't you ever feel it, that visceral, deep, rich, good 'thrum?' Search not for the source. It flows from every place... from every point, however small set by God's hand, like a tiny mosaic in a Byzantine mural.

Do my words sound strange to you this night? Are the rhythms different? Is the cadence frightening? Know that I think in Vahmperigo.... the 'vampire' Western Mediterranean, Romance dialect, if you will. I am alone now and no one else here understands it, so indulge me. 

I see the screen above the hearth. The news is over. Now it's the talking people in that dark, dark room. Charlie Rose, I think it is. And he has an actor who once played Dracula. Not my favorite illustration of a vampire... but, so many of the rest are just heaving, panting posers. They talk about life and art and perception. Charlie Rose and the actor, I mean. Frank Langella. His name is Frank Langella. 

Do you know I saw Shakespeare in the flesh? Vampire blood preserved him. But for those few drops he'd have died in his youth. The blood was mine and it was a good thing .I played Oberon once too. Not in The Globe. That house, open to the sky, framed daylight plays. But great men, magnates and nobles, sponsored mummery in their halls....  great spaces, bright with torch light.... Well, maybe not bright, but at least not dark. And in such surroundings I was that magic king. I said Shakespeare's words. ... Perhaps one night I'll do so again. (smiles wistfully.... snuggles down into the couch... hugs a big 'throw' pillow... hits the remote and watches Jimmy Fallon .... and we're struck by the fact that he inhabits the body of an eighteen year old.... but knows so many things.)

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JUSTIN BIEBER'S HAIRPIECE and MORE VAMPIRE STUFF ... 1/24/14

Edith said she knows. Saw a picture at the supermarket in one a those magazines.  Says Jimmy Fallon wears one too. They all do, even the girls. Even the ones with 'normal' hair, 'cause 'normal ain't enough for the camera and under the lights and all. They all got weaves or cute, l'il baby toupees, or plugs. When the first sibling gets famous, the family makes the second one into a plastic surgeon or dermatologist to keep the first one in hair and jawlines. If the second one can't do it, they let him be whatever he wants, like a shoplifter or a flamenco dancer. Edith knows, 'cause she reads all the magazines. Saw pictures of Justin Bieber de-wigged and everything.

Sarah says she don't know. They can't all be baldies. Tomas says she's wrong and after like three years is still so 'mortal.' She bought this board game on line.... the Downton Abbey board game. They play it in the kitchen. Too cold to go out. True, they're not gonna get sick or frostbite, or anything. But it is still uncomfortable. Tomas likes the cold up to a point, but Sarah just got this game and she wants to play it, so they play it. He don't care. Edith makes these hot toddies he likes. Some fluids they can tolerate. The vampires I mean. Sarah likes College Inn chicken bullion. The elferinos and elferinas like them sweet, blue water filled, long plastic things you put in the freezer. you know, the homemade ice pop things? Conrad and Leo, who are never home (vampire life is still so new to them) chew all kinds a chewing gum. But they don't ever swallow it, so it don't count.

Tomas says bald guys are always asking for blood. Just a little bit. Just enough to grow some hair. His 'familiars' tell him. They get the requests and pass it on to him. Could make big money too. Edith says a vampire in Santa Barbara gets one hundred thousand dollars a clip... ten big, red, beefy drops in a vial ... that's it. She heard it on Hoda and Kathie-Lee.

The little ghost of the polio victim from the cellar comes in to watch. He wants a play to, but his psycho-kinetic powers aren't good enough. He can't always move the little thing around the board. Wants to get a job as a 'bingo ghost.' That's the ghost who makes the ping pong ball with the right number come up when they're trying to fix the game. But nobody wants a hire him, 'cause he ain't trust worthy that way. Bingo joint owners believe in ghosts. That's a fact. Go see. Look it up on Wikipedia. Sarah says she'll throw the dice for him and move his thing around if he wants, 'cause that's the only way he can do it. Edith says he's a big, dumb dope. What's he need a job as a 'bingo ghost' for anyway? One night he'll grow into his powers and zoom in and out of Toys R Us anytime he wants, grabin' video games, ninja turtles, everything. 'Cause like the energy resonates out from the source a little bit and takes whatever he holds with him. Tomas says he'll practice with him one night. Vampires got similar abilities. But he never does. 

Doctor Franklin called. Wants Tomas to turn the body of the haberdasher's assistant that Grigori Usipov livin' in now into a vampire. Gotta be Tomas. 'cause he's the oldest one in town, not counting 'Papa,' who you can't trust anyway. Figure he'll be able to 'right' all that blind and deaf crap. He'll do it. But he don't want to do it, 'cause he don't want to get involved. But he'll do it.... one of these nights. 

Actually, Tomas likes going to that compound under The Navy Yard. Likes to get into the deep sea habitat tank with the wrinkled-up, old sea-hag, mermaid women. They like him too. Who knows? It's just one a them things. 

They found a young guy frozen in the snow yesterday. Late twenties, thirty years old. That's all he could be. Might have been homeless. Boy, talk about 'no room at the inn.' Laying there. Just laid down and died, right there on the nine hundred block of Ridge Avenue. 

That's what the elferinos and elferinas are doing tonight... giving blankets and blood kisses to homeless people. The blood all by itself will keep 'em alive. Blankets just make it more comfortable. 

Wouldn't be surprised if when it gets to be two thirty, three o'clock, Tomas don't wind up going out too. Feels bad 'bout what happened to that homeless guy.

I can tell. Look at his face... You can see it...

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Fear The Crypt ... is the new big site and you gotta follow it and join it ...1/23/14

I type this in the little bitty letters so you gotta get close and put you nose right up into it.

No able to blog it the vampirici of my regular stuff because they ran out into the icy streets with them

God damned elferinos and elferinas and I gotta stay back here in the red brick townhouse 'cause

..... No,.... I don't wanna tell you because. But lot a you know we just pretend this is the fiction.

And here where you get injected with horrific truth. Watch it the video. Join it the site. Click on JOIN IT THE SITE ... and trade communicative impulses with them at fearthecrypt.com ... too. Click on that too. I just forget to type it. ...Morphing into a creature I am...and it is hard  to shape it the 'brain visions' in the english.

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Now I gotta do not do this no more tonight...'cause I about a crash through the window and race through the streets



where the hell them God damned elferinos?...



Oh, the BIG MOVIE MAKIN' make you scream and pee guy ELI ROTH make it #TheCrypt too.

Now you know. So do it and join............



(vaults through the glass, leaving a crimson trail of blood drops in the snow...)



FADE TO BLACK