Summoning Hitler’s Ghost On Walpurgis Night

April 30, 2011 at 10:54 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel)

Herr Hans was an Osiris-worshipping Roman Catholic priest.

Although according to certain extremist anti-Catholic Protestant Fundamentalist sects, all Roman Catholic priests were really Osiris worshippers.

Nevertheless Herr Hans was one who really did worship Osiris.

He worshipped the ancient Egyptian vampire Osiris and anxiously looked forward to Osiris’ return to Earth from a planet orbiting the star Sirius in 2012 (where Osiris had been exiled as a result of a powerful black magic spell cast on him by his brother the ancient Egyptian vampire Set millenia ago).

Tonight Herr Hans was in Berlin, Germany at the site where Hitler’s bunker had been located.

Tonight Herr Hans was using an ancient Druidic black magic spell to see if he could raise Adolf Hitler’s ghost.

It was 66 years ago today- the date of Walpurgis Night (an important festival on the calendar of the old ancient Germanic pagan religion) that Adolf Hitler had committed suicide with Eva Braun in the Bunker as Soviet troops advanced on the Nazi capital of the Third Reich.

The reason Herr Hans was trying to raise Hitler’s ghost was because of Herr Hans’ love and worship and adoration of Earth mother goddess Gaia.

Dear Mother Earth couldn’t afford to have six billion people living on her according to Herr Hans’ reasoning and that of some of his fellow elitists.

The optimum population for the living organism Gaia was 1 billion people.

Hence 5 billion people would have to go.

And thus Herr Hans’ reasoning as to why Hitler’s ghost should be summoned and brought back from the dead.

It wasn’t because Herr Hans was racist.

He wasn’t.

After all, racism was politically incorrect in Herr Hans’ reasoning.

Herr Hans wouldn’t say that racism was inherently morally wrong because Herr Hans was a moral relativist and didn’t believe in such things as right and wrong or good and evil.

Herr Hans was like Nietzsche’s ubermensch (Overman) in that he was beyond good and evil.

Like all philosophical adherents of Nietzsche, he conveniently neglected the fact that the late philosopher had spent the last years of his life living in a state of insanity.

No, it wasn’t because of racism that Herr Hans was hoping to bring back Hitler from the dead.

It was because of the Fuhrer’s expertise in genocide and extermination.

If 5 billion people needed to be eliminated from the Earth so that dear living organism planetary Mother Gaia could live in celestial bliss and peace and harmony in the coming Age of Aquarius, Hitler’s ghost was the entity that could do it.

So Herr Hans opened the book of Druidic black magic spells (unlike Herr Hans’ Bible, this book didn’t need the dust blown off it) and proceeded to speak the words and cast the spell…

… and summon Hitler’s ghost…

… on this…

… Walpurgus Night…

To be continued.

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Amadeus’ Surprise

April 27, 2011 at 9:12 pm (Humour, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was feeling depressed.

He still had not received an invitation to Prince William and Kate Middleton’s Royal Wedding at Westminster Abbey this coming Friday and time was running out.

He still had not picked up a tuxedo not wanting to spend any money unless he was definitely going.

Then to top it off the guy he had killed last Friday (as an act of vengeance for the fellow stealing the last tuna fish sandwich on a plate that Renfield had wanted at a party two years ago) the Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had apparently risen from the dead this past Easter Sunday morning according to the radio broadcast of Coast To Coast AM With George Noory he had heard on short wave from the U.S. last night.

He did not bother opening the mansion front door when he heard a knock.

Instead Amadeus Emanon who was still busy eating all the chocolate Easter Bunnies and chocolate Easter eggs he had got last Sunday was forced to go answer it.

It was the post man with a registered letter for Mister Amadeus Emanon.

Amadeus signed for it with his chocolatey fingers to which the Royal Mail letter carrier harrumphed before leaving.

He then opened the letter with his chocolate covered fingers and smiled.

“What is it?” Renfield asked out of curiosity.

“It’s from Buckingham Palace,” Amadeus smiled a most alluring smile, “they apologized for being so late but here’s my personal invitation to William and Kate’s wedding this Friday.”

“What the F—?” Renfield’s face turned redder than a Communist lobster in heat and the throes of sexual passion, “how the Hell did you get an invitation to the Royal Wedding and I didn’t?.”

“Remember a few weeks ago,” Amadeus calmly bit into another chocolate Easter Bunny, “when I was invited to give that Johann Sebastian Bach piano recital at St. Martin’s Church in the Lincolnshire city of Stamford?”.

“The one you invited me to go with you and I turned it down because I said who wants to visit some hick place in the sticks of England?” Renfield started involuntarily sprouting his hamster whiskers.

“That’s the one,” Amadeus then bit into a chocolate Easter egg, “anyhow it turns out Kate Middleton’s parents were in Stamford that day and they dropped into Saint Martin’s Church for my recital of Bach. They were so impressed with my virtuoso performance they said they would try to get me an invitation to their daughter and Will’s wedding. Then they asked me if I had any friends with me that would like to go. Athelstan was with me so they said they would try to get him in.”

Athelstan was the butler and valet to the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

As Amadeus finished the story and finished his egg, Athelstan came in from the kitchen looked pleased as punch.

“I just got a registered letter at the kitchen back door,” Athelstan beamed so highly that it looked like his smile reached the beams of the high-ceilinged living room of the colossal mansion, “I’ve been invited to the Royal Wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton.”

Renfield started banging his own head on the table next to him.

An hour later he finally knocked himself out.

To be continued.

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Spirit of Victor Frankenstein Lives On In 3 Mad Scientists

April 26, 2011 at 10:20 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

So, having agreed on a plan of action, the three scientists left the George And Dragon Pub just a few minutes after midnight on Easter Sunday morning April 24th 2011.

Their first stop was the Scotland Yard lab where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen removed from a jar what was left of the brain of Giza Investments Ltd. CEO Trevor Fontaine.

They then dropped by the Set Enterprises lab where Dr. Cadbury Rocher removed from a jar part of the heart of the ancient Egyptian deity Atum-Ra.

Dr. Sterling Makabo then went to see a Gypsy spiritist medium (a real one who could actually see spirits and not just claimed to see spirits) named Psychedelia to accompany them to Highgate Cemetery and on the way see if there were any disembodied spirits wandering the streets of London in search of a body.

It just so happened there was.

The spirit of the slain ancient Egyptian vampire Horus was busy wandering the streets of London ever since he lost his earthly channel Trevor Fontaine.

The three scientists and Psychedelia invited him along for the nocturnal ride (metaphorically speaking).

They then arrived at Highgate Cemetery where Dr. Nicht Werhoffen’s Stasi burglary break-and-enter skills came in handy.

They entered the mausoleum of Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell where Dr. Cadbury Rocher had heard the body of the slain and popular Death Heavy Metal Lord Stryker had been put.

They took the lid off the sarcophagus where Stryker’s body lay.

Dr. Werhoffen made an incision in Stryker’s skull where he poured in pieces of Trevor Fontaine’s brain.

He then sewed up the incision.

Dr. Rocher made an incision into Stryker’s heart where he then inserted part of the heart of Atum-Ra.

He then sewed up the incision.

Dr. Sterling Makabo then used his black magic skills to re-animate Stryker’s corpse and bring it back to life.

As the corpse was re-animated, the Gypsy medium Psychedelia told the disembodied vampiric spirit of Horus to now enter the body.

Of course at that moment, the ghost of the Heavy Metal rocker Stryker also happened to walk by and seeing his body restored to life- likewise chose to re-enter his body at the same time as the spirit of Horus.

Makabo cast the spell sealing the spirits inside the body at that moment.

“Shit, you’ve got two spirits in there,” Dr. Nicht Werhoffen cried out.

“Oh well, this Resurrected entity will just happen to have a split personality,” Dr. Cadbury Rocher shrugged, “maybe in his spare time he can get a blog at Xanga since there are a number of Xanga bloggers who seem to have split and multiple personalities.”

“We must take him back to the Set Enterprises lab to inject him with that eternal life synthetic blood you’re working on,” Dr. Makabo said.

“Indeed,” Rocher agreed.

At that moment, the 3 scientists and the gypsy medium could hear drunken shouting nearby.

“Let’s get out of here,” said Werhoffen.

The other two scientists and the gypsy medium followed leaving behind a totally confused Resurrected entity inside the mausoleum.

The drunken shouting was being done by a British bank executive who was shouting to the dead (in case, they could hear it) that Communism would probably rise again.

And this was what Mikhail Gorbachev planned all along, the banker shouted.

Unlike others in the Soviet Politbureau who were just in it for the power, Gorbachev was a Marxist-Leninist true believer.

So Gorbachev let the eastern European satellites go and allowed for the dissolution of the Soviet Union knowing that the West would be lulled to sleep.

And when the inevitable collapse of total laissez-faire capitalism came as Gorbachev knew it would, the globalized interconnected and inter-related and interdependent nations of the world would willingly embrace a Marxist one-world government.

The banker then started vomiting over Karl Marx’s tomb.

And continued to vomit there the rest of the night and early morning.

Until Stryker’s three mini-skirted groupie young women happened to pass him.

And the 3 women would spot the empty tomb.

And would see the empty coffin.

And Miranda the redhead would be the first to see the risen Stryker that Easter Sunday morn.

To be continued.

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The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires

April 25, 2011 at 8:16 pm (Commentary, Theology, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

So how did the Death Metal Lord Stryker come to rise from the dead that Easter Sunday morn of 2011?

Back on Saturday night, April 23rd 2011, three scientists were drinking dark ale and having steak and kidney pie in a pub called The George and Dragon (quite appropriate since April 23rd is the Feast Day of Saint George The Dragonslayer).

Since the three men noted they were drinking the same ale and eating the same type of pie, they decided to sit together at the same table.

The 3 men were-

1) Dr. Cadbury Rocher- the Chief Scientist at the laboratory of Set Enterprises- the company owned and operated by the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

2) Dr. Sterling Makabo- a Xhosa witch doctor from South Africa. He was both a Medical Doctor (M.D.) and a practitioner of his tribe’s traditional Black Magical practices (including the power to raise corpses as zombies). With his knowledge of both Western medicine as well as traditional African black magic, Dr. Makabo was naturally a frequent guest on The Oprah Show as well as a regular guest speaker at Rick Warren’s Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, California.

3) Dr. Nicht Werhoffen- formerly a leading scientist for the former East German Stasi Intelligence Service in the former East Berlin (since 1991 he has worked for the Russian FSB Intelligence Service as one of their leading scientists).

Dr. Makabo and Dr. Werhoffen were listening to a magazine article being read aloud by Dr. Cadbury Rocher.

The article was written by Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and was entitled What’s The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?

What’s The Difference Between Jesus and Zombies and Vampires?
by Christopher Dracul Van Helsing

Zombies have no souls. They are soulless corpses animated either by an energy wielded by the witch doctor or shaman who has raised them or else they are temporarily animated by demonic spirits. Unlike Jesus with His Resurrection Body, they can be put down again.

Zombies also are incapable of love or feeling or emotion or pain. All they are capable of is eating and devouring with their soulless husks.

Vampires do have souls. This is what distinguishes them from zombies. Vampires are not walking corpses. They are neither Living Dead nor Walking Dead. They are the Un-Dead- not quite alive in the way that ordinary mortal humans are neither are they dead like the dead who lie in the graves or in urns with their bodies and souls separated.

Vampires and vampiresses are capable of feeling love and hate and emotion and feeling and pain. Many vampires and vampiresses use their powerful seemingly immortal state (immortal unless they are staked through the heart or beheaded) for purposes of evil. There are some vampires and vampiresses however who try to use their existence for good and for performing acts of love.

Vampires and vampiresses could theoretically live forever. But practically… no they can be killed by a stake through the heart or being beheaded or being burned and consumed by fire.

Jesus has a soul. Being true Man (as well as true God), He has both a human body and a human soul.

Jesus is very capable of love and hate (He hates sin but not the individual sinner) and emotion and feeling and pain.

In HIs Resurrection Body, He does live forever and can never die again. He is the first individual in history to have truly conquered Death forever and ever.

Jesus always uses His existence for good and for performing acts of love.

-Christopher Dracul Van Helsing is a vampire hunter as well as a writer and an analyst in the fields of Geopolitics and International Relations.

* * *

Dr. Nicht Werhoffen took a sip of his ale, “Gentlemen, I put it to you with our knowledge of genetics and DNA and Artificial Intelligence and robotics and nanotechnology and vampires and zombies, could we not create a 2nd Jesus? Bring back from the dead someone who is neither vampire nor zombie nor Jesus but a transhuman Messiah for this era?”.

Both Dr. Makabo and Dr. Rocher looked at Dr. Werhoffen and nodded.

“So gentlemen,” Dr. Werhoffen smiled, “let’s do it. In fact, let’s do it tonight.”

On the television screen in the pub which had the sound turned down, a Catholic priest was being interviewed on BBC television and was just asked the question, “What ultimately is the Blasphemy Against the Holy Ghost that Jesus talked about?”.

To be continued.

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Easter Morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery

April 24, 2011 at 7:15 pm (Commentary, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Three of the heavy metal rocker Stryker’s groupies were in a London fish and chips shop nursing a hangover from the night before.

One girl opened up her purse and two of the other girls screamed, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You’ve got a penis in there.”

“How the Hell did that get in there?” the girl who was blonde scratched her head.

“I know, I know,” shouted the redhead, “you picked it up two nights ago after the rock star Stryker had his penis cut off by that guy who then turned into a hamster and scurried outside the nightclub.”

“I thought this extra large popsicle was taking a long time to suck,” the blonde sighed.

“It was no popsicle,” said the brunette, “like Miranda here just said, it’s Stryker’s penis.”

“Oh, my God,” the blonde hit her forehead, “oh, what a dummy. oh, what a dummy.”

“We really should return it to Stryker,” said the brunette Vivian.

“But he’s dead isn’t he?” said the blonde named Candy.

“I heard that recording executive guy Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell tell the bouncers at the nightclub to bury Stryker in his own tomb at Highgate Cemetery,” Miranda the redhead spoke up.

“Let’s go and open Stryker’s coffin and put his penis back in,” said Vivian, “a guy like that shouldn’t be buried without his penis.”

“But how are we going to get into the tomb and into the coffin?” Candy asked.

“Don’t ask such questions,” Miranda slapped her, “this is no time for you to be developing a high IQ now.”

* * *

Many eyebrows were raised among various people in London’s Highgate Cemetery on this Easter morning as three very beautiful young women wearing extra short micro mini skirts and sexy pantyhose and sexy spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes entered the cemetery.

They asked one of the cemetery grounds keepers where Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s tomb was located and he pointed them in the right direction.

They passed by a British bank executive who was busy vomiting on Karl Marx’s tombstone that had on it the epitaph WORKERS OF ALL LANDS UNITE.

They approached the Campbell mausoleum.

The door was open.

“Look the door is open,” Miranda ran in.

“The coffin is empty,” said Candy who followed close on her heels.

“They’ve stolen Stryker’s body!” Vivian exclaimed, “The bastards!”.

* * *

Miranda stood at the empty coffin and wept.

“Miranda,’ a voice behind her gently said.

Miranda turned and saw a figure standing there.

“Please tell me where they have taken my rock lord’s body,” Miranda begged as she grabbed the stranger’s leg, “I won’t tell the authorities.”

“Miranda,” the figure opened his robe, “do you know where my penis is?.”

Miranda screamed and ran out of the mausoleum.

* * *

And thus had the death heavy metal rock star Stryker risen from the dead on this Easter Sunday morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery.

And it seemed like all the doves had left London.

And the city was overflowing with crows.

And on the radio from a nearby apartment that had its window open… could be heard playing that old song from the old 1960s rock musical Hair, “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius… the Age of Aquarius…”

To be continued.

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It’s Saturday… The Day After Friday… And Tomorrow’s Sunday

April 23, 2011 at 8:35 pm (Commentary, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Satire, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the South Korean vampire huntress Hyung Crace Kwan were having coffee in a Parisienne cafe after having attended Easter Vigil Evening Vespers at Notre Dame Cathedral.

Hyung was dressed in a black blouse and black skirt and black silk nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.

“So what are you thinking about?” Hyung asked the Canadian vampire hunter.

“About how Good Friday and Lenin’s birthday fell on the same day this year,” Dracul replied.

“That’s right, they did,” Hyung nodded, “yesterday was April 22nd.”

“Many people don’t know that’s why Earth Day is celebrated on April 22nd,” Dracul stated, “back in the 1960s and 1970s, the Soviet KGB had heavily penetrated both the upper levels of the United Nations and the environmental movement in the Western world. So when the date was selected for the very first Earth Day in 1970. April 22nd 1970 was chosen since that would have been Lenin’s 100th birthday.”

“So are Marxists still heavily involved in Earth Day celebrations?” Hyung asked.

“Not since the collapse of the Soviet Union, no,” Dracul shook his head, “it’s mainly run by New Agers and Gaia earth-goddess worshipping neo-Pagans now.”

“But still celebrated on Lenin’s birthday,” Hyung said.

“Yes, Lenin seems to be one very green corpse,” Dracul remarked.

* * *

Renfield R. Renfield was sitting in a Piccadilly Circus restaurant and eating a tuna fish sandwich recalling how he had spent his Good Friday.

Early in the wee hours of Good Friday morning, Renfield had nailed the heavy metal rocker Stryker (nailed him quite literally) both hands and feet to the rafters of London’s latest trendiest discoteque and nightclub.

Renfield ripped off the rocker’s clothes and threw them to screaming female fans on the floor below where they played World of Warcraft on their smart phones and whoever got the highest score would be entitled to a portion of the metal rocker’s clothing.

At one point, Stryker let out a cry, “Lama, lama, deli-sabama?” which being interpreted is “Where the Hell did I leave my car keys?”.

“This man calls for the Dalai Lama,” some pot-smoking doper shouted.

“Let’s see whether the Dalai Lama comes to save him,” another doper cried out.

“The Dalai Lama isn’t coming,” a psychedlic mini dress wearing blonde with glazed eyes said after 5 minutes had passed.

“Bummer,” a doped-out dopey looking nerd with glasses and curly hair remarked, “I was wanting to ask him where he bought his orange robes. And then I was going to ask him if he knew of any place that sold apple or grapefruit robes as well.”

Then Stryker said, “I thirst.”

A groupie in a black leather mini skirt pulled up her skirt and pulled down her pantyhose and panties and removed her tampon. She then put her tampon on one of the lounge’s cool looking bamboo poles and held it up to Stryker’s lips where he drank.

Renfield then grabbed a customer’s samurai sword and went and cut off Stryker’s erect phallus.

“My penis, my penis,” Stryker screamed, “why hast thou forsaken me?”.

“He’s bleeding all over me!” a doper shouted.

“Father,” Stryker looked down towards what lay beneath the dance floor, “Into thy hands, I commend my spirit.”

He then gave up the ghost.

Then the power and the electricity and the lights went out.

A doper flicked his cigarette lighter open and said, “Truly, this man was the Son of Belial.”

* * *

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell organized a group of the nightclub bouncers who took down Stryker’s body and wrapped it in a blanket.

He then told the bouncers to go to Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s own tomb in London’s Highgate Cemetery and bury the body there.

And they did so.

* * *

And Renfield still had not received an invitation to attend Prince William’s and Kate Middleton’s wedding.

And spilling some loose change on the floor of the restaurant, Renfield went out into the night into the bright lights of Piccadilly Circus and wept.

* * *

To be continued.

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Good Friday vs. Rebecca Black’s Friday

April 22, 2011 at 3:24 pm (Commentary, Quotations and Sayings of Dracul Van Helsing) (, , , , , , , )

On this Good Friday, if you’re contemplating Rebecca Black’s lyrics, “It’s Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday” remember that Christ did not get down from the Cross on Friday even though the Scribes and Pharisees beneath the Cross taunted Him to do so. And it’s a good thing for humanity that Christ did not get down from the Cross for if He had, all of us would be eternally lost.

-Christopher Van Helsing, Good Friday, April 22nd, 2011.

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Stryker’s Last Orgy

April 21, 2011 at 9:55 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , )

Stryker was a death heavy metal music star.

His label was Aulos Music and Recording.

The past six months Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell the Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording had been baby-sitting (quite literally) the 33-year-old star on his world-wide tour.

Heathcliff was sick of cleaning up the mess (particularly the bodies of the teen-aged girl groupies that Stryker had slain and drunk their blood afterwards).

“One would think you’re a vampire or something,” Heathcliff had sniffed.

“Maybe someday I will be,” Stryker laughed.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was so busy looking after the petulant spoiled brat heavy metal rocker that he had no time to look out for his more talented heavy metal protogee the genuinely authentic Vampiress Morgana (who at least did not kill and drink the blood of her fans since she knew who was paying the money that kept her bread buttered and her bacon coming).

Now Heathcliff heard the dreadful news that the Board of Directors of Aulos was going to assign another of the label executives to manage Morgana while he Heathcliff would be stuck with Stryker.

Oh, Heathcliff thought to himself, was there no way out of this mess?

* * *

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell stood outside the door of the Vampiress Morgana’s hotel room to tell his protogee the bad news and was about to knock when he heard two feminine voices from inside the room.

Heathcliff stopped to listen.

Inside the hotel room, the Vampiress Isis stood in a red evening dress and red spiked stiletto heels.

The Vampiress Morgana stood in a black tank top, black leather mini skirt, black silk fishnet nylons and black spiked stiletto heels.

“I want to know,” said Isis, “are you any relation to the Sorceress Morgana of Avalon?”.

“I’m her niece,” the Vampiress Morgana answered, “Auntie Morgana was beheaded and slain by King Arthur centuries ago.”

“This I know,” said Isis, “for I was close by when it happened. What I want to know is do you have any of your aunt’s magical powers. Can you resurrect a slain vampire from the dead for example?”.

“I have some magical powers,” the Vampiress Morgana replied, “but I do not have the power to Resurrect.”

The Vampiress Isis sighed.

Then she looked at Morgana, “Thank you for your time.”

The Vampiress Isis bowed and then opened the hotel room door where she saw Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell standing there.

“Have we not met before?” Isis asked.

“I believe we spent a delightful evening last Boxing Day over champagne and caviar on the French Riviera discussing the writer Oscar Wilde and the painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti,” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell answered.

“Indeed, we did,” Isis smiled, “we must do that again soon.”

She then walked down the hall and pressed the elevator button.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then entered the Vampiress Morgana’s hotel room where he broke the bad news to her.

Morgana burst into tears.

* * *

Upon exiting the hotel, Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell wrapped his coat tightly around himself because of the wet London evening drizzle now falling.

He looked up and recognized someone.

It was Renfield R. Renfield.

“Excuse me,” Heathcliff tried to get past the shapeshifting hamster/human because he had been nothing but trouble for Mr. Dionysus Campbell in the past.

“Do you recognize this person?” Renfield held up a photo.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put on his gold-wire rimmed glasses and looked at the photo.

“It’s Stryker,” Heathcliff replied, “the most obnoxious of the clients I manage.”

“I thought you might know him,” Renfield grinned an evil grin, “you know a lot of musicians.”

“Being in the music and recording business I naturally would,” Heathcliff harrumphed with an irritated lisp.

“I came across this man’s photo on the cover of an entertainment magazine earlier today,” Renfield explained, “in fact the same magazine where I ripped out this photo which seemed to upset the shopkeeper Mr. Patel for some reason. He demanded that I pay the cost of the full price of the magazine. Finally I was forced to shoot him after he threatened to call the police.”

“Why are you interested in this Stryker?” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell took out a handkerchief and began wiping raindrops off his glasses.

“I recognized the fellow right away,” Renfield seethed, “he was the one who swiped the last tuna fish sandwich off a plate at an upscale party I was at 2 years ago just before I could get to it myself. I swore revenge if I ever came across him again.”

“What do you plan to do to him?” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell put his glasses back on and blinked at the shapeshifter.

“Kill him,” Renfield answered.

“This is my lucky day,” Heathcliff thought to himself and then he said aloud to Renfield, “What’s in it for me if I take you to him?”.

“I won’t kill you,” Renfield laughed.

“I feel like dying these days anyways,” Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell shrugged, “you’ll have to do better than threats if you want me to help you.”

“All right, I’ll pay you thirty thousand pounds if you take me to him,” Renfield said.

“Show me the money,” Heathcliff held out his palm.

Renfield went to a nearby bank’s ATM cash machine and using his employer the billionaire ancient Egyptian Vampire Set’s debit card positively emptied the bank’s cash machine out of thirty thousand pound notes.

Renfield and Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell then took a taxi to the nightclub where Stryker was having his post-concert orgy.

Meanwhile noted American actor Charlie Sheen walked up to the bank’s ATM cash machine and inserted his debit card.

Then he started swearing it, “I can’t believe it. This @#%^&*!*@ machine is out of @#%^!*@ cash.”

* * *

“All right,” Heathcliff spoke to Renfield, “at these orgies, there are a lot of guys and even a few girls who like to dress up as Stryker. Wait 5 minutes and then come in and I’ll direct you to the real one.”

“How will I know the real one?” Renfield asked.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell whispered inside Renfield’s ear.

Renfield grimaced but nodded.

* * *

Stryker was seated at a table surrounded by an adoring group of short skirted and mini dress wearing teen-aged groupies.

Stryker opened a plastic bag of cocaine and passed it around saying, “This is my body which is given for you. Snort this in remembrance of me.”

The girls took the bag and shoved some of the cocaine up their respective noses.

Then Stryker opened the cap off a beer bottle with his teeth and passed the bottle of beer around saying, “This is my blood (my golden blood!) of the newest and most irrevocable covenant which is shed for you and for many for the mother of all orgasms.”

Each girl took a sip of the beer and had a multiple orgasm as she did so.

Renfield entered the nightclub.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell went up to Stryker and kissed him on the lips.

“Dionysus,” Stryker looked at Heathcliff, “dost thou betray the Son of Belial with a kiss?”.

Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s face turned crimson.

“What thou doest, do quickly,” Stryker slit a girl’s throat and drank her blood.

Heathcliff Dionyus Campbell ran to the washroom and hung a roll of toilet paper over the seat and sat down and blew his nose.

And Renfield R. Renfield moved in for the kill.

To be continued.

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King Arthur and The Vampire Horus

April 20, 2011 at 7:29 pm (Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

As Arthur walked back towards his tent, he noticed a small fire burning on a distant hill.

Curious, he decided to investigate.

He firmly grasped his sword Excalibur as he climbed the hill.

Arthur crouched behind a tree as he gazed at the fire.

He recognized the being standing there from illustrations he had seen in a book in Merlin’s library.

It was the Egyptian vampire Horus who had been resurrected from the dead by the sorceress Morgana.

Arthur stepped forward into the moonlight and the fire’s glow.

“Mortal,” the Vampire Horus spat at the King of the Britons with contempt, “do you not know who I am?”.

“Thou art Horus,” Arthur withdrew his sword from his sheath.

“A sword?” Horus laughed uproariously, “It will take more than a mere sword to kill me.”

“THIS is no mere sword,” Arthur pressed his sword against the vampire’s heart, “THIS is Excalibur!”.

He drove the sword into the vampire’s heart.

Horus screamed and then collapsed into dust.

Arthur walked on to the direction of another tent.

He walked into the tent.

There on the floor of the tent was the beautiful and enchanting Morgana.

Arthur looked down.

He had loved this woman once. In fact, he had had a child with her.

Mordred.

Unknown to Arthur, Morgana had had another child of Arthur’s. A girl. One she had sent to Ireland for safekeeping.

Arthur knew what he must do.

He raised his sword and cut off the lovely head of the exquisite raven haired beauty.

Then he kissed the head and sadly walked back to his camp.

* * *

The Vampiress Isis shrieked when she saw her son Horus once again reduced to dust.

Hurriedly she gathered up the dust in an urn and ran to Morgana’s tent so that the powerful sorceress could resurrect him once again.

She shrieked when she saw Morgana dead. Her beautiful head turning the floor of the tent a lovely crimson red.

“Arthur has done this,” Isis screamed.

* * *

Isis turned into a bat and flew into Arthur’s tent.

When inside, she removed his sword Excalibur and took it with her into the night where she hid it in a forest.

“Let us see how Arthur performs in battle tomorrow without his Excalibur,” Isis laughed.

Arthur did not perform so well.

He did manage to fatally wound Mordred.

But alas, Mordred managed to fatally wound Arthur as well.

* * *

April 20th, 1889.

The day was chilly and overcast in the Austrian town of Braunau am Inn.

On this day, a baby boy was born to Klara the wife of Alois.

The baby was born on Holy Saturday the day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Outside the house, the spirit of the dead vampire Horus walked the Earth.

He felt drawn to this location for some reason.

How Horus wished he had a body.

Horus’ ghost looked and there stood the Norse vampire Odin (very recognizable by his one eye) known to the Germans as Wotan outside the same house.

Curious, Horus thought.

All sorts of creatures of the night and of the shadows and of the Underworld feel drawn to this location on this Holy Saturday night.

Holy Saturday.

The day between Good Friday and Easter Sunday.

Holy Saturday when Christ’s Body was in the bowels of the earth and His Soul was in Hades.

A Saturday that marked the Saturday when this world was without Christ’s presence- a child was born.

A child that would be named Adolf Hitler.

And Horus’ ghost and the Vampire Wotan had come to pay their respects.

* * *

To be continued.

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Sunset Over Camelot

April 18, 2011 at 8:20 pm (Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

“What news, Lancelot?” KIng Arthur asked his most fearless knight.

“Many brave knights were lost, my liege,” Lancelot noted, “Mordred now controls most of the countryside.”

“But Mordred would have gone nowhere without Morgana’s help,” Arthur looked at the sunset which seemed to be setting both literally and metaphorically on Camelot.

“How did Morgana achieve such power?” Lancelot queried.

“Morgana always had great magical powers,” said Arthur, “her magical powers were so great that she was able to resurrect the Egyptian vampire Horus whose dust and ashly remains were brought to her from Egypt. It was Horus’ advice given to Mordred that led to his great military victories. Mordred would have been able to achieve nothing on his own.”

“In Merlin’s library, there was a story that the Vampire Horus had been staked and killed,” Lancelot recalled.

“Indeed,” Arthur nodded, “he was killed with a wooden spear through the heart wielded by the great Roman general Pompey the Great in 48 BC. It was that particular action of Pompey’s that led Horus’ mother the Vampiress Isis to throw her support behind Julius Caesar in the Roman civil war.”

“And now the Resurrected Horus’ support of Mordred will lead to the demise of Camelot by the looks of it,” Lancelot looked sadly at the golden spires of the magical city in the distance.

“Sadly on this Earth, it is often the case that all good things come to an end,” Arthur walked wearily back to his tent.

To be continued.

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