A STRANGE LONG SLEEP .. 2/24/15

Jonathon came down just after sunset. The sky was a pale, somber, watery blue. Vampires like it that way. Some venture out when there's still quite a bit of light in the sky. People see them. Children are still playing. It all seems so natural. Night-folk are great at obfuscation. He was about to leave the house for a quick stroll... let the neighbors see him and all. Granted, their block was quiet. Not too many people about. But there's always a few. Though before he got to the door, Edith grabbed him. She said - Jonathon, Billy never got up. I listened at the door. He's still sleeping. Jonathon, it's a quarter to six (dusk comes later in February).

He turned and went back up. Edith followed. Sarah was coming down when they entered the hall... She knew something was wrong. Actually, Jonathon did too, from the moment he opened his eyes. Vampires are attuned to such things. Yet their brain is still a human brain and quite prone to denial. 

They stood by the door and listened. But these are not the hollow interior doors you may be used to. These are solid wood... historical accuracy, you know. Society Hill people are very picky about that. Some hide flat screens behind paintings and refrigerators behind cabinetry and skeletons in closets and dirty socks under the bed. But that's another story.

Jonathon knocked. He said - Billy? Billy? Are you alright?.... (no answer). He tried to open the door, but it was locked. So he sublimated his hand through the wood, reached back and fiddled with the latch. They went in. The room was dark, but they could hear the breathing ...and something else. Edith switched on the light. Small glistening shapes scurried everywhere. Billy slept on a mound of them. They explored his nostrils... his mouth... under his t-shirt and inside his tightie-whities. The three of them just stood there. Sarah said - Why can't I smell them? (vampires have a keen sense of smell). Jonathon went to the dresser and tried to brush them off, but his hand went right through them. Sarah said - Are you sublimating?... He shook his head and whispered - No, they're sublimating through me. 

It's a hoo-doo - said Edith. Like a dream, or ghost stuff. Something's in here. That thing from the wax figure. It never left.

Then she mumbled a prayer, or some kind of incantation and they vanished. Just turned to smoke and blew away.

The bed was just a bed. Billy slept under the covers. They tried to wake him... but he just slept.  That part of the 'ghost stuff' held true.

Entities have other ways to explore a host.

Billy trembled. He was cold. Edith got another blanket and covered him.

Jonathon looked concerned...

<more next time>

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BETTER KEEP THE LIGHTS ON .. 2/21/15

I was making biscuits. Everybody likes my biscuits. Them vampires take 'em to people. give 'em to 'familiars' (mortal helpers). Make a big batch, maybe seven or eight dozen. Used a do it with lard, but Sarah says people don't like that no more 'cause although it tastes good, folks say it makes 'em drop dead too much. Folks in the Pines never dropped dead too much and they all love Edith's biscuits. I am a good cook in addition to being a good witchy-woman. Once when folks complained bout all the stink bugs, I threw a hoo doo. Got rid of 'em. Marched out from all the houses in straight little lines and drowned themselves in a river. Don't make a difference what river. We got lots a rivers. Really just streams, but we don't wanna hurt they feelings.

Something's not right. I don't know what it is. Sarah says that entity 'diffused.' That's what disembodied spirits do when they lose interest in something... or somebody. They just make with a big sigh and expand in all directions till they are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. That's how they rest. But I don't think that happened. She talkin' 'bout what they want to happen. I'm talkin' 'bout what is happening. 

Billy don't seem right. Never goes out no more. Never walks around down on South Street, or Head House Square. I ask. He says it's about the cold... Cold never stopped him before. An' his eyes look all screwy, like he lookin' at a big chunk a plain air. One night, when all the others out doin' they nightly hoo haas, I see him sittin' in the den lookin' at television. He watchin' a show 'bout what astronauts gone do on Mars, but he don't pay no attention. He just sit there.... But I see a shadow pass over him... an' it not my shadow, 'cause I'm sittin' in the kitchen. Even his shirt collar move, like it bein' touched. An' I see a dirty bird in the garden. That a term we have. Can be any kind a bird, just look troublin'. This bird got one eye. Other all puckered an' shut. Plus it eatin' a baby mouse, or what used a be a baby mouse. Crow might do that, but this no crow. Little bill tappin'... pickin' off tiny, pink, stretchy bits a mouse (maybe part what got the squeak in it). I wanna shoo it away. But somethin' tell me not too.... I hear mumbles 'round the house too... little whispers and not in any manner a talk folks 'round here knows.

Never used to mind the dark. Figure what can happen in a vampire house. Sometime I sit by the front room window. Lights all out. I peek through the drapes. This block quiet. Don't get much traffic... cat maybe.... old lady with dirty face what talk to herself. ... guy with a fake ear. Fall off once. That's how I know.

But last night, while I spyin', little dog come prancin' in. Come right from the library... right through the wall. I know it real.... hear the claws clickin' ... But it did come through the wall... Little terrier lookin' thing. I could tell, even in the darkness. Street light come in through the drapes, you know. Funny, how I just didn't do nothin'.  Don't know if I could. Then it turned. It looked at me with a human face, just like a gnarled, old man, real angry and all. I said - Good evening..... But it just stick its tongue out at me and go through the wall... this time to the street... Later, when I go in the kitchen, step in all kind a little dog turds...

Keep lights on ever since.

<more next time>

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THE ENTITY REMEMBERS WHO HE WAS -- 2/19/15The RagTime Dance Scott Joplin + sheet music

I remember how it all began.... there's a vision I have, about promenades along the sea wall and water-ice socials on warm summer days. Everybody all spiffed out and polished. Whole families doing the 'Four Step' as (what you would call) Ragtime issued forth from pianofortes placed out on the verandas of stately homes along the way. Odd how such different organisms developed such similar aesthetics. I suppose the universe has a set number of themes and they just recycle them. I really don't know.


My mother was so fussy. She'd go - LadyBug, get in there. Do me up good!.... And her little beetle-like maid hopped around, polishing that carapace til it shone. She had such a smooth, even, green apple surface and a regal carriage. Her people had money, you know. An uncle was a flyer and flyers were very rare among Praying Mantis People. She wore hats... jaunty, little, specially made hats, created by a milliner to Senatorial wives and all that. Some had beautiful feathers. Such a bright, yellow tongue she had too and eyes like the finest cabuchon (smooth polished) emeralds. 


Please don't think we were nudists. We were not. Each wore cunning, little form fitting snoods over our external genitalia in powdery creamy oranges, yellows, or pinks. Garter-like ornaments decorated other parts of our bodies, some trailing long addendums of ribbons. 


And then we marched. A cake-walk, you might call it. Families waved as we went by.. an afternoon constitutional along Mulberry Avenue. Mulberries were quite the delicacy to our kind. My father was a banker and as rich as he could be. Though what could be the point of it is quite obtuse to me. He worked so much. sisters need dowries, you know. And the traditional dowry among our kind was a house... a substantial, three windows wide, four story tall, red sandstone townhouse in The City. Believe me, they did not come cheap.... The scene I relate to you now... The Promenade, took place not in the city, but in Sea Bright, the place where we summered.



That was my life, a young, mantid boy. I sailed on the bay. I remember that. And I remember my consecration. I remember The Chapel. We marched in, all of a certain age, festooned with white ribbons. Fourteen made The Ascent with me... eight boys and six girls. I almost remember their names. The Prayer Leader called us up, one by one, presenting each a small Book of Scripture. We linked fore limbs, tongue-wagged and sat down. Then came hymns and 'the preachings.' Each of the Consecrated returned to The Rostrum and delivered a sermonette detailing all we'd learned in consecration class, plus a recitation of our good works. Families were so proud. Seven hundred and fifty thousand of your years and I remember it. I know that now... Seven hundred and fifty thousand years. I remember so much, yet still can't find my name


But I know how it stopped. I know how it ended. One day, as we frolicked on the beach, a second 'sun' broke off from its parent and plummeted  toward us. No one moved.... a great, fiery, orb, expanded to the size of an incandescent island, til every part of the sky grew white as liquid iron. Steam rose all about us, as the sea itself boiled away... And then we boiled too, as our world was erased.


Why am I here and not where other faithful go? What keeps me in this place, adrift among the islands you call planets?


My 'new suit'... the one known as 'Billy' sits there tapping out the keys, though he knows not what he writes. The house is quiet. The others, being vampire are immune to the icy cold and free to haunt these old, old streets, engaged in other things.


I work the Billy thing like a puppet. Soon he'll be my coat. No, more than that. He'll be my skin. I'll see the world through mortal eyes and therein lies the prize.


<next time --- the possession>


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BEFORE CLAIMING A VICTIM THE ENTITY REMEMBERS THINGS .. 2/19/15

I watched a meteor streak across the late night sky. Such arbitrary things they are. A man on the television said it came from this solar system's asteroid belt and weighed five hundred pounds. I suppose that equals the weight of three or four women, depending on food intake and other variables. If it tore into a city many thousands would have died. But this soulless thing skipped over the atmosphere like a stone. Millions saw the light, though none burned. 

To me, with my limited spirit vision it looked different. I saw a dark, dark gaseous streak slice across a white, white sky. How I missed the real thing. I've stitched myself into physical bodies before... too many times to count, if I want to be truthful... and not all of them were human, or even human-ish. I am an old, old spirit, divorced from my true form for eons. What does that word mean? Who cares? 

But now I am among you, eyeing the one who channels this... the one they call 'Billy.' Look at him. He knows not what he types. I control the fingers. I 'talk' to the tiny brains within each and every cell. I whisper into nucleic ears and tell them what to do. Thus fingers bend and muscles move. The words appear and you read it. 

Jonathon thinks I've gone, or at least become dormant. Maybe he knows better, but he hopes. He and Sarah go out at night to do whatever night-folk do. They have a routine... one killing per month. Two actually... one for him and one for her. I don't pay much attention to them. Maybe they do it on a full moon, or a new moon? I don't know. Some nights they just walk around doing good deeds. Last night she gave a homeless woman a three and a half carat, pillow cut, high grade diamond ring. Vampires come by so many strange things. They got a little pickled baby-thing in a glass globe. Guess the artisan fashioned each half independently, laid the tiny dead thing inside and stuck the other half on top. Maybe he had a little tube... glass or rubber. Maybe he stuck it in and pinched it between the two halves... dripped brine, or something like brine through it... could be alcohol. Maybe he made a little notch in each half so the embalming fluid could go through and patched it all up after. You can still see tiny bubbles in there (they all stick together... about the size of a dime)... stay near the uppermost part of the globe, which since it is a globe changes depending on how it was positioned. I look at it a lot. How smooth the seam is. Like an almost invisible equator going 'round a dead, little baby prison. None of them know how old it is either. Did I tell you that? But I know....

Egypt wasn't the first place. Sumeria wasn't either. Earth people built lots of old cities. Human minds just work that way. Stones are hard. Stones are strong. You stack them up in a careful manner, you get a fort, or a palace, or something like that. You can smooth them off... make them square... even pave the street. Soon you have quite a place. Basket weavers say - Hey, maybe we can do the same with corn silk, or some kind of other plant crap, as we do with reeds. After trial and error, the textile trade was born. So cities are no big thing. People always made them. Well, for about fifty thousand revolutions of this world around its sun they made them. That bubble-baby's from one of the early ones... Some place in the Caucus Mountains.

Took a body there once. Got used to it. Took a lot of bodies. Girl bodies.. Boy bodies... Old men... Soldiers. Zipped right in. Had my fun. Zipped right out.  They're dead when I leave. Soul never comes back. I don't know where it goes. Maybe they're not dead? Maybe they're something else?

Every once in a while I have what feels like a dream. I see a very different place. It's got plants, but not like your plants. And trees, but not like your trees. I smell things... the dirt... what grows... what dies. And I see a reflection in a little pond. It doesn't look like you... not like a human, I mean. Looks like a baby bird, or a praying mantis, or something like that. A voice in the back of my 'head' says 'that's you.'

How nice the colors are in those dreams... like what I see through other people's eyes. Maybe I'll see them soon? Just zip in and take over. Won't be no permanent habitation. I've still not learned how to work that trick. It's why I hover around vampires. They know so much, even if they're not aware of it. But I can still commandeer a body for a while.

Billy just types and types. At times he's actually sleeping. But he still types. I haven't had a tall body like him in a while. I like tall bodies. I can take bigger steps... walk faster... see more places.

I do not mean him any sort of personal harm, but you tell me... what am I supposed to do?

Wonder what it feels like to sit in a chair? Been a while. I forget. I like this townhouse. I like this old neighborhood. Why can't I live here for a while?

I have needs too.

<more next time>

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A VAMPIRINA NAMED LIVIA BUTTS IN ... 2/18/15

This is not you regular story. I know you gotta story here and this is not it. But I live with it for many many years and I want for you to know it. My name is Livia and my sister, they call her Dora. We come in a boat. I don't say 'on' a boat, 'cause that is not how it was. They force us down into darkness and there we stay... in the piss and the noise and the vomit.

One night, I say - Dora, come get fresh air. See the stars. Smell the water..... But she is afraid to do this, for steerage is our place. So I fix her hair... change her blouse. She don't want to do it, but she go. A man guard the steps. He got a uniform, like a soldier, but he is not a soldier. He says - Where duh yooz think yer goin'?..... I say - My sister sick. Let her throw up like a free woman. Ain't you got no mutter!?..... He makes a face. Maybe he thinkin' 'bout his mother? But he let us go...

This is  not the fancy deck. This is just a place where nobody goes... or nobody is supposed a go. Got a rail. Got everything. But no seats. You know those big seats you lay down on? Well, they don't got 'em. So I take Dora and we go to the rail. She don't wanna do it. Says - No, Livy. We're gonna slide over... I say - Stop it! Stop it! Nobody gone over. The rail is too high. Look. Look at the stars. You ever see so many?.... She looks and goes - They scare me. They make me feel so little, like a mouse. What if they get loose? What if they fall?... I hug her. She don't know. When she's born, midwife do something crazy and now... she got problems. But the breeze feels good and she likes that. So we stand.

A voice goes - Taking the air, I see..... We turn. They got a guy standin' there in a white tie and tails. Looks like a groom from a big wedding, or something. Eyes all sparkle. Looks like he wanna smile, but he don't smile. Dora always bashful. She grins. She makes faces..... Man takes a handkerchief from ... uh, I don't know where he takes it. But he got it. Says - Look, I got little cakes for you.... Then he unfolds it and we see 'bout six real pretty, little cakes. 'Rich girl' food they are.... Groom man goes - Take one. They are so creamy good.... I say - They from up there?.... Groom guy nods.... holds 'em out.... Dora goes - Tee hee hee...and takes a white one with blue squiggles on it... Then he looks at me. I do the same. I don't know what mine looked like. It was just cake. But he drugged it with something. I did not know that then, but I know it now.

Two hours later we were naked in a little room all covered with canvas cloths and half way to bein' vampirina. Think he had a deal with the steamship company. Dora screamin'. Skin all peelin' off. Some get it real bad. All red an' oozin'.... all flayed... Dora goes - Please, God. Please, God. Please, God.... Only God don't do nothin.... Then he brings in some skinny girl on a leash. Gave her some cakes too.... Guy goes - You ladies gotta bite her up real good and lick up all the blood... We do. It's like a instinct. Can't help it. I do most a the bitin'. But Dora lick up her share too.... Girl moans. She quivers. Got black and blue marks all over her skin... her legs and stomach and ass and all. Eyes all glazed... Dora goes - Th-th-this not gonna kill her, will it?..... Groom guy goes - Noooo. It's just like a game. A little rough, but just a game. You girls haven't  traveled much, have you?..... We shake our heads... Guy whispers - It shows.....

Twenty minutes later, skinny girl's dead. Dora starts cryin'. She goes No! No! No!..... Guy goes - Yes! Yes! Yes!..... We just look at him....Ten heartbeats later he says - What the hell you think, you dumb, God damn bitches?

Then he grins. For the first time he really grins.

Dora's all scared. She snifflin'. She goes - They are never gonna let us into 'merica now...

Guy busts out laughing, as two creeps come in, grab the body and jam it out through a port hole. Guess the sharks got it. I don't know..

Well, they did let us in America and Dora has never bitten anyone to this day. I bite people. Then I regurgitate the blood up into her mouth. Night-folk can do that. And that's how we live.

Did I want this thing?... Look... everybody has to make adjustments.

Just wanted to let you know how it is. Please don't watch those movies where we're always monsters. Promise me you won't do that. God they make me sick.

Sorry to but in, but that 'Billy' guy you got didn't even know he was channeling this and I've never had an opportunity to communicate with the real world, not more than one at a time anyway, so just blame me.

I can tell you he's plenty scared about that 'entity' though. Said something about it to people on the outside. Mentioned it on Twitter.

Jonathon (I think his name is) almost had a fit.

Now let me go. I gotta vomit blood in my sister's mouth...

<back to the entity story arc next time>

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A DRY WHITE FLUFFY SNOW HIDES OTHER THINGS... 2/17/15

<continuation of our 'entity' thread from a few nights ago>

Salutations, best beloveds. It is I, Zebulon, the disembodied spirit of a thirteen year old boy stoned for witchcraft in Hasmonean Jerusalem. That's the Hellenistic, though thoroughly Jewish dynasty existing between the ouster of the Post Alexander, Syrian-Greeks and the coming of Rome. Jews had names like John Hyrcanus and Aristobolus the Second, frequented gymnasia, yet studied Biblical Commentaries. Some free thinkers actually journeyed out to Bactrian ashrams. They say, certain phraseology in The Liturgy comes from those times. But I died as a child, barely sampling that world. Once I saw one of the Nephylim, though... Our word for aliens. A vaguely man shaped nimbus of silvery light. It came through the roof one hot summer night ( we slept on a terrace up there to escape the heat), stared at me from a featureless face, emanated what I assumed to be otherworldly syntax and continued up toward a dark, gunmetal colored vehicle. Everyone else was sleeping. Yeled, our Saluki (like a levantine Afghan hound) was up, but nothing phased him. A hunter he was... a watchdog he was not.

And now I watch and narrate the lives of others. All seems quiet around the townhouse. Edith boils pasta. Vampires, for some reason, enjoy the smell of boiling pasta. She and Billy eat it later. They haven't seen (or felt) the entity. But that doesn't mean he's not there. You see, he hasn't made up his mind yet. Does he want to effect a permanent (really just a long term) transfer, or a routine, quick 'try on?' That's where he infuses his essence (or energy) into the unlucky host. Believe me, for the host, it is not pleasant. All sensation stops. There's no interaction with anything. No sound, or sight, or taste, or smell, or touch. Just thought in a featureless, intangible darkness... Rather like the consciousness that sometimes occurs after death. Some spirits tarry too long in the body, you know. And then it's hard to break free. Indeed, they don't even know where they are. They say some stay that way forever.

But the 'interloper' has a good time. They're in the driver's seat. They control things... How wonderful physical sensation is. They see, feel and taste and all. When they're done and ready to move on, some 'release the corpse' via a swan dive from a great height, thus explaining various 'jumpers' around local bridges and skyscrapers. 

And this entity's eyeing our Billy. Long term, or quick visit... either way, it's no good.

It's snowing now... one of the first dry, powdery snows of the season... Not too much. Maybe four inches. The city sleeps, snug and still beneath a clean, fluffy comforter. A bright, white, winter night. ... or early morning. Like a cityscape on a sound stage made by God.

Billy sits in the den tapping this out. I 'write.' He 'channels.'

Does he grasp the situation?

Well, after associating with night-folk for almost four and a half years, what do you think?

Stay warm...

<more next time>

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Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE PHOTOLUMINESENCE OF LIFE IN THE ABYSS

Billy Kravitz' vampire wonderland: THE PHOTOLUMINESENCE OF LIFE IN THE ABYSS: I could feel the cold. Temperatures at that depth hover near freezing. But my body was immune to it. Hypothermia does not effect us. I supp... Here's a scene from our MARIANNE IN BRITCHES story arc.. An elferina (girl transformed whilst in her early teens) regales wealthy, Society Hill matrons and their husbands (who paid ten thousand dollars each for the privilege of attending these sessions) with recollections of her paranormal life. this scene details what happened to her in the seventeenth century, when she was sealed into a leaden cask and thrown overboard into the sea.... If you like this episode, click NEWER POST or OLDER POST or (if possible) just scroll down for more... there's enough up here for at least six lengthy books. 



As always, PLEASE KNOW that this is not the post. Click on the title up above to go there and see that. Don't roll your eyes because I said this. You won't believe how many people don't get it. I understand, because I don't get much about the digital world either.



Oh, Society Hill is an old district of meticulously maintained colonial and federal townhouses in Center City, Philadelphia... In a sense, like traveling to London without traveling to London... and it's got ghosts coming out the wazoo.



<more next time>



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