Renfield In Sleepy Hollow: A Poem

October 31, 2015 at 5:41 pm (Humour, Mystery, Poetry, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Renfield In Sleepy Hollow: A Poem

For Renfield, it was not such a bitter pill to swallow,
to be at this time of year visiting the town of Sleepy Hollow,
for he could have been with the band Smashing Pumpkins
and eaten horse men’s heads with his chicken dumplings.
For Renfield was a cool cat though shapeshifting hamster he be
and was always human when he took a pee
or visited the tea rooms for afternoon tea.

For the time of year was Halloween
when ghosts and goblins walk to be seen
and wouldn’t be caught dead in outfits too green.
Leave that to the leprechauns
and those who eat green cheese with their prawns.

Amadeus was picking magic mushrooms off the lawn
while 3-headed guard dog Cerberus did watch and yawn,
Angry Hades or Pluto shouted,
Now, Brussels sprouts have sprouted
And ferryman Charon just sat and pouted.

And so on this night in Sleepy Hollow,
It was Renfield’s 10th can he did swallow,
Ah, said he, Sherrielock’s beer is so divine,
these mushroom ingredients taste so fine,
And I can act as if I’ve lost my mind.

Sherrielock Holmes approached wearing black mask and carrying a black whip,
She also wore black lipstick on her lip,
And had one stern black gloved hand upon her hip,
She wore black leather skirt and black fishnet nylons,
With her stilettos, she kicked over construction pylons.

Along came Headless Horesman riding with pumpkin head,
Sherrie whipped him off his horse and he fell to ground quite dead.
Ichabod Crane said, “The world has gone topsy turvy,”
as he looked at Sherrielock’s corseted top so curvy.

Ichabod got to Hell out of there
as Renfield dropped his underwear
and Sherrielock whipped his bottom so pink
that his lower cheeks turned red like lines on a hockey rink.

I think I got Renfield’s porno pay-per-view channel by mistake,
said Amadeus as he ate mushrooms that turned him into a flake
He used an autumn leaf for a remote control to change the channel
when he suddenly got beamed by a wooden panel
for a witch on a broomstick collided with a window
as otters in a nearby stream chased after a minnow.

For it was Halloween in Sleepy Hollow
where chaos ruled the land as statue succumbs to winged swallow.
So beware of magic mushrooms on this Halloween night
for your bottom the next morning will look quite the sight.

-A Halloween poem
written by Christopher
Friday October 30th
2015.

Permalink 47 Comments

Part XVI The Giant Rat of Sumatra

October 27, 2015 at 6:53 pm (Detective story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Part XVI The Giant Rat of Sumatra

“He died of acute constipation,” was veterinarian Fred Clegg’s conclusion when the Giant Rat of Sumatra was found dead in his cage the next morning.

“With those two tons of cheese he ate aboard the Matilda Briggs and all those cats around Stamford he ate to say nothing of the woman wearing the skinned cat fur coat that he ate, I’m not surprised,” was Holmes’ brilliant observation.

“May he rest in peace,” one of the circus dwarves crossed himself.

“He’ll never be able to make his premiere appearance on the circus stage,” Vittoria Donna Gina sighed sadly.

“That might be a good thing,” Holmes picked up the huge tail of the monster rodent, “this was probably a tail for which the world is not yet prepared.”

“I did not consider that the problem of constipation might do in my creation,” Faust lowered his Golden Masked head in shame.

“It probably didn’t occur to Victor Frankenstein either,” Fred Clegg quipped, “that a sudden bolt of irregularity might do in his creation created by a sudden bolt of lightning.”

“I suppose it’s back to the drawing board for you, Dr. Faustus,” Holmes commented.

“If only I had the ability to sketch like Leonardo Da Vinci,” Faust said sadly.

“I wouldn’t mind banging a woman who would make an excellent subject for a Pre-Raphaelite painting,” Holmes ejaculated suddenly- both verbally and otherwise.

Being in the presence of Vittoria Donna Gina was making Holmes feel a bit amorous.

“Well, I better round up the other dwarves and get this body out of here,” the dwarf commented.

” I wish I had a camera for this,” was Fred Clegg’s final commentary.

-A Sherlock Holmes novella chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 25th
2015.

Permalink 14 Comments

Haiku About Pegasus and The Walrus’ Talk of Many Things

October 26, 2015 at 7:11 pm (Literature, Mythology, Poetry) (, , , , , , , , )

Haiku About Pegasus and The Walrus’ Talk of Many Things

Walrus time not come
Sea not hot nor pigs can fly
but a horse has wings

Permalink 6 Comments

600th Anniversary of Battle of Agincourt

October 25, 2015 at 6:50 pm (Commentary, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Humour, Literature, Plays, Quotations and Sayings of Dracul Van Helsing) (, , , , , , , )

600th Anniversary of Battle of Agincourt

It was 600 years ago today- October 25th 1415- St. Crispin’s Day- that England’s King Henry V delivered a speech written for him by the yet-to-be- born future playwright William Shakespeare and then went on to defeat French forces at the Battle of Agincourt.

Permalink 15 Comments

Part XV The Giant Rat of Sumatra

October 24, 2015 at 4:10 pm (Detective story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Part XV The Giant Rat of Sumatra

“Dr. Faustus, I presume?”.

The Man In The Golden Mask jumped away from the blackly draped covered cage at the sound of Sherlock Holmes’ voice.

“How did you know?” The Man In The Golden Mask whirled around.

“The bastard Rodrigo Salieri aka the serial killer and rapist Lord Belfor happened to mention your name in his diary,” Holmes replied.

“I’ll kill him,” Faust foamed through his mask.

“I’m afraid the vampire hunter Professor Abraham Van Helsing has already beaten you to it,” Holmes lit his pipe, “that stake the bastard Belfor received was a little too well done for his liking.”

“He turned Vittoria into a vampiress,” Faust stated sadly.

“I know,” Holmes commented quietly.

“I’ve been giving her vials of animal blood that I call medication to her so she won’t attack humans for blood,” said Faust.

“I know,” Holmes nodded, “for that I’m eternally grateful.”

“Eternally,” Faust repeated Holmes’ words with a great deal of melancholy and profound sadness.

Holmes could only guess what the word Eternally probably meant to a soul like Faust’s.

The detective spoke softly as he pointed to the blackly draped covered cage, “That I take it is the Giant Rat of Sumatra.”

“It is,” the Man In The Golden Mask nodded, “so Mr. Holmes you’ve deduced that what lies underneath that covering is a giant rat.”

“I knew that as soon as I heard two tons of cheese mysteriously disappeared aboard the ship Matilda Briggs,” Holmes re-lit his pipe, “and then when I saw the huge bite marks on the ship’s steam engine that had been painted to look like a block of cheese by an ardent admirer of Vincent Van Gogh.”

“I’m afraid Vittoria when she was out sleep walking on the ship let open the cage on a few occasions allowing him to escape,” Hemlock the Magician aka Faust the Alchemist explained, “and then now that we are on land, the stupid dwarves who are with the circus let him out of his cage on a few occasions.”

“Yes, I’m afraid that stupidity cost numerous lives of the cats of Stamford,” Holmes stated, “to say nothing of the life of a woman whose cheap skate traveling salesman boyfriend gave her a fur coat made from the skinned fur of cats.”

“For those deaths, I am truly sorry, Mr. Holmes,” Faust spoke with sincerity.

“May I see the Giant Rat of Sumatra?” Holmes asked the alchemist and astrologer turned stage magician.

“All right, Mr. Holmes, ” Faust took the black draped covering off the cage.

The rat was indeed gigantic in size.

And its colour was as black as the draped covering over its cage had been.

And as black as the midnight sky in winter – a midnight sky devoid of stars or moon.

Holmes gasped in amazement, “My God.”

“The natives of Sumatra certainly thought so,” Faust replied.

“Is such a creature native to the island?” Holmes asked.

“Rats are native to the island,” Faust explained, “but as for this particular rat, I created him in a laboratory I had on that island.”

“Really?” Holmes was astonished, “how did you accomplish that?”.

“Are you familiar with the work of the Augustinian monk and scientist Gregor Johann Mendel with regards to pea plants and the inheritance of biological features?” Faust asked.

“I am,” Holmes nodded.

“I have applied his ideas to other biological creatures,” Faust explained, “taking the sequences of gene pairs as Mendel called them and then tinkering with those sequences to create new and radical adaptations of those creatures and perhaps someday creating a whole new species in the world entirely.”

“Sort of using science and human ingenuity to speed up the processes of Darwinian evolution,” Holmes looked in the direction of the cage of Darwin the Sumatran orangutan who went bananas in a recent magic act of Hemlock the Magician.

“Exactly, Mr. Holmes,” Faust was smiling underneath his mask.

“And you have created a giant rat as a result,” Holmes mused, “now the world will definitely have to build a bigger and better mouse trap.”

-A Sherlock Holmes novella chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday October 17th 2015.

Permalink 34 Comments

Renfield and The Kardashian/Jenner Clan’s Latest Shenanigans

October 18, 2015 at 6:13 pm (Culture, Entertainment, News, Sports, Television, TV Commercials, TV Shows, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Renfield And The Kardashian/Jenner Clan’s Latest Shenanigans

Renfield R. Renfield sat on the sofa and spoke to Amadeus Emanon, “You know with all the international espionage activities I’ve been involved in the past week, I really haven’t had time to keep up with the Kardashians. I wonder what the latest news is involving the Kardashian/Jenner clan and their inner circle?”.

Renfield used the remote to put on the television while Amadeus continued to eat the half dozen steak and kidney pies he’d been eating.

“So,” Renfield mockingly asked the television, “what’s the latest with the Kardashian/Jenner clan?”.

A TV commercial was on.

TV Commercial spokesman: Are you the sort of guy who wouldn’t want to be caught dead in a Nevada brothel?

Then to avoid such future embarrassment, use Viagra.

The real thing.

Not those cheap herbal imitations.

And here’s another piece of advice for you, my whoremongering friend.

That slogan Things Go Better With Coke doesn’t always hold true.

So use Viagra.

The real thing.

After all you wouldn’t want to be caught dead or near death in a Nevada brothel.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday October 18th
2015.

Permalink 15 Comments

Rhyming Haiku About Ichabod Crane

October 17, 2015 at 7:10 pm (Folklore, Horror, Literature, Poetry) (, , , , )

Rhyming Haiku About Ichabod Crane From The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

Poor Ichabod Crane
mistook pumpkin for a head
and so went insane

Permalink 12 Comments

CERN Stargate Wormhole Experiment and The Mysterious Entity

October 14, 2015 at 7:52 pm (Fantasy, Science-Fiction, Short Story) (, , , , , )

CERN Stargate Wormhole Experiment and The Mysterious Entity

Damon Lescu was a physicist from Stanford University in California.

He felt privileged to be here today at the CERN Large Hadron Collider in Switzerland.

Today an experiment involving the colliding of protons would try to open one of those mythical stargates that haunted both science-fiction and Stephen Hawking’s worst nightmares.

A wormhole that served as a possible gateway to another dimension.

Lescu shivered despite the steaming hot cup of coffee that he was drinking.

He felt his skin tingling with anticipation.

Would an entity emerge from another dimension?

Would he say with the wonder of a Miranda in Shakespeare’s Tempest, “O brave new world that has such people in it.”?

Or would he flee in horror from the being that emerged?

Wondering what were the men of science thinking when they ventured to open such a gate?

The sound of the tunnel ceased.

The lights stopped flashing.

The experiment was over.

Silence.

What if anything would emerge?

More silence.

You could have heard a pin drop.

Suddenly a loud thump was heard.

Then the door of the large accelerator opened and there on the floor lay a strange mysterious looking creature.

The entity got up.

And dusted itself off with its upper appendages that Lescu guessed were probably its arms.

The being stared in peculiar fashion at Lescu and the others present.

What odd looking eyes.

What odd looking facial features.

Was it human?

In one sense, the creature might have appeared human.

But in another sense it didn’t.

What was it?

Its uniform or clothing might have been mistaken for a proper English jacket, suit and tie.

Possibly under certain conditions.

Could the entity communicate?

“Lescu,” Damon pointed to himself.

The creature appeared to be reaching for something under what might be taken for a suit jacket with one of its appendages.

Then the entity pointed to itself with its other upper appendage and spoke in an almost inaudible mumble, “Uh… bean.”

Lescu extended his right hand, “Nice to meet you.”

The entity removed its other appendage from underneath its suit and mumbled, “Uh… tea pot.”

The entity indeed had a large tea pot stuck to the end of this appendage.

Suddenly the entity noticed a tiny object lying on the floor.

The object resembled a little brown teddy bear.

“Teddy,” said the entity in a much louder voice and went over and picked up the bear with its non-tea pot stuck upper appendage and started kissing and stroking it.

Lescu turned pale.

What, he wondered with shock and awe, had he and his fellow scientists unleashed on this dimension?

The End.

-A short story written by Christopher
Wednesday October 14th 2015.

Permalink 23 Comments

Lilith Meets Erdogan: Neo-Sultanism Arises

October 13, 2015 at 7:15 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Lilith Meets Erdogan: Neo-Sultanism Arises

Renfield R. Renfield was down at the Set Enterprises lab trying out a new experiment with Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster.

Renfield had recently written a movie script about a secret U. S. Army experiment whereby the Pentagon tried to get soldiers to develop their psychic powers by looking at pictures of Playboy bunnies (Renfield intended his movie to be a sequel to the 2009 film The Men Who Stare At Goats. He called his movie The Men Who Stare At Playboy Bunnies).

For more on the background of Renfield’s script, please read here:

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/10/09/the-men-who-stare-at-playboy-bunnies/

The U.S. Army experiment proved unsuccessful.

But Renfield thought he would try his idea with Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster.

Michelangelo had the ability to enter people’s dreams and see what they were dreaming.

He also had the ability to occasionally pick up radio transmissions from the future.

But so far Michelangelo had failed at the psychic technique of remote viewing.

He did not seem to have the ability to visualize and see what was happening in the present at another location.

Renfield thought that if he showed Michelangelo pictures of Playboy bunnies, this might help his visualization and remote viewing techniques.

Renfield had Michelangelo’s lobster antennae hooked up to the computer so what Michelangelo was receiving or seeing would show up on the computer screen.

Renfield then showed the lobster various pictures of Playboy bunnies.

The computer seemed to shake but no images of remote locations appeared on the screen.

Then Renfield showed the crustacean a nude drawing of Sherlock Holmes’ very beautiful and virtually unknown and forgotten twin sister Sherrielock Holmes.

The power almost went out in the whole facility.

Then an image appeared on the computer screen.

Renfield recognized the locale as one of the rooms in the new Turkish Presidential Palace in Ankara.

He recognized the two people talking in the room.

On the left from the screen’s perspective was the megalomaniacal President of Turkey Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

On the right was the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith who was wearing a Byzantine gold coloured evening dress.

Renfield turned up the volume on the computer.

President Erdogan: I still can’t believe that the U.S. hasn’t figured out that I’m the one behind the creation of ISIS or ISIL or IS – whatever the initials of the day are that the brainless western media use for this group.

Lilith: American intelligence takes its cue from its Sleepwalker-In-chief.

Erdogan: Even though I’ve stated publicly on several occasions that I want to restore the Ottoman Empire with myself as Sultan of course…the U.S. still looks upon me as a trustworthy NATO ally.

Lilith: Well Iran’s Supreme Leader the Ayatollah Ali Khameini has consistently said that’s he going to destroy both the U.S. and Israel but Barack Obama signed a peace deal with Iran anyways.

Nimrod The Talking Frog (emerging from between the cleavage of the low-cut top of Lilith’s dress) : That reminds me of a line I heard from a rerun of Seinfeld where Jerry says to George, “I don’t think vomiting is a deal breaker. I’m sure if Hitler had vomited all over Chamberlain, Chamberlain would still have given him Czechoslovakia.”

Erdogan (to Lilith): Your little friend seems to appear out of nowhere in the most unusual places.

Lilith: I know. He gave my last gynecologist a major heart attack on one occasion.

Needless to say, Renfield found this whole conversation very interesting while Michelangelo the red lobster grew redder with each passing second.

To be continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 13th
2015.

Permalink 25 Comments

Part XIV The Giant Rat of Sumatra

October 11, 2015 at 6:57 pm (Detective story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Part XIV The Giant Rat of Sumatra

The dark haired dark bearded dark eyed man in the well-tailored suit with top hat and cane stood only feet away from Vittoria Donna Gina’s caravan trailer.

Holmes immediately recognized him.

He ran to grab the man when suddenly another man appeared on the scene.

The distinguished looking man with gray moustache, silvery gray hair and spectacles sporting a huge crucifix around his neck pulled what appeared to be a huge wooden stake from under his coat and shoved it into the vicinity of the dark bearded man’s heart.

To Holmes’ shock and amazement, the dark haired dark bearded dark eyed man crumbled to dust.

All that remained were his distinguished clothes, top hat and cane.

Holmes stood there totally transfixed by what he saw.

“Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” the gray moustached gentleman held out his hand.

Holmes then recognized the man.

“Dr. Abraham Van Helsing,” Holmes held out his hand.

Holmes recognized the famous Dutch physician and distinguished world authority on rare blood disorders.

“What was that I just witnessed?” Holmes inquired.

Dr. Van Helsing laughed, “Well seeing as how you’ve attacked me for my views in letters written to various scientific journals and have called me a damned medievalist for believing in dark ages superstitious nonsense, I don’t think you’d really believe me if I told you, Mr. Holmes.”

“I’ve never seen a man crumble to dust within seconds after a stake has been placed through his heart,” Holmes looked somewhat pale, “so maybe I’m now more open to possibilities that go beyond my sense of reason than I was before. Was that… a… a… a….?”

“A vampire, Mr. Holmes?” Van Helsing smiled, “can’t you even bring yourself to say the word?”.

“No, I guess not,” Holmes shook his head.

“He shall be disturbing the world no more,” Van Helsing looked down at the clothes that had once adorned the vampire.

“What was his name?” Holmes asked.

“He called himself Lord Belfor although he had no official legal title,” Van Helsing replied, “he owned a large estate outside London where he was married to a fat and wealthy mortal former brothel owner who had a half-dozen brats of her own that he adopted and thus bear his English name Belfor.”

“His English name?” Holmes lit his pipe, “But judging from his appearance when he was still alive and Undead, he appeared to be Italian in nationality.”

“He was,” Van Helsing nodded, “his real name was Rodrigo Salieri the bastard son of Antonio Salieri.”

“Antonio Salieri the Italian composer rumoured to have murdered Mozart?” Holmes asked.

“The same,” Van Helsing nodded, “Rodrigo Salieri was even a more mediocre musician than his father. He was also a greater moral reprobate than his father for Rodriogo was both a rapist and serial killer of young women.”

“Before or after he was a vampire?” Holmes inquired.

“Both,” Van Helsing replied.

“Any idea what year he became a vampire?” Holmes blew smoke rings into the air.

“Well, according to one of his diaries which I managed to find,” Van Helsing answered, “in 1830 when he was 30 years old.”

“Did he say how it happened?” Holmes was intrigued.

“According to the diary entry, he called on the demon Mephistopheles to grant him immortality. Mephistopheles, according to the diary, appeared to him and said he would grant him a form of immortality – a vampiric existence. But the young bastard Salieri would have to avoid Crosses and Crucifixes and consecrated Communion hosts as well as wooden stakes through the heart. And unlike mad dogs and Englishmen, he could not go out walking in the noonday sun. Or any other time of day when the sun was present.”

“And it was the demon Mephistopheles who turned him into a vampire?” Holmes was incredulous.

“Mephistopheles introduced him to the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith who bit him on the neck,” Van Helsing replied.

An owl was heard hooting in the distance as the moon burst through a dark cloud.

Some frogs croaked in the distance on the other side of the river Welland.

“Demons and ancient Babylonian vampiresses,” Holmes shook his head, “it makes me wish I was back in my London lab working with chemicals- substances I can understand.”

“Chemicals eh?” Van Helsing smiled, “Like the Renaissance alchemist Dr. Johann Georg Faust.”

“Another one of the exploits of Mephistopheles,” Holmes mused.

“According to an entry in the bastard Salieri’s diary,” Van Helsing noted, “Faust was granted a form of immortality other than a vampiric one. And Faust did not actually die like legend says or Christopher Marlowe or Goethe mention in their respective tales.”

“No,” Holmes had to smile, “What happened to him?”.

“Well according to historical records, Dr. Johann Georg Faust was supposed to have died in an explosion caused by an alchemical experiment he was performing at the Hotel zum Lowen in Staufen im Breisgau. The explosion was said to have occurred around the year 1540, ” Van Helsing explained, “but according to Salieri’s diary, Faust’s face was only disfigured in the explosion. Salieri claims Faust took to wearing a mask and Faust is still alive today wandering the earth as a masked man.”

“Reminds me of stories I’ve heard of a freedom fighter in Spanish ruled California or a lone Ranger riding the plains of Texas on a silver horse,” Holmes laughed.

“According to Salieri,” Van Helsing went on, “the mask Faust wears is an unusual one. He has two masks. One a golden mask of Greek dramatic tragedy. The other a golden mask of Greek dramatic comedy.”

“Really?” The normally calm and serene looking Holmes turned ashen white.

“And Salieri claims that Faust is currently working as a stage magician,” Van Helsing went on.

Holmes started choking on his pipe.

“I just wish I knew if Salieri has bitten anyone in Stamford and turned them into a member of the UnDead,” Van Helsing scratched his chin.

“And presumably you’d drive a stake through that individual’s heart,” Holmes glanced nervously in the direction of Vittoria Donna Gina’s caravan trailer.

“It’s my sworn duty, Mr. Holmes,” Van Helsing bowed to the consulting detective.

“Well I’ve been thoroughly watching this bastard Salieri aka the obnoxious serial killer and rapist Lord Belfor,” Holmes said, “because there were fears among circus performers here that he was going to steal one of the animals. And I can assure you that he had no time here to turn anyone into the UnDead.”

“Then it appears my work here is finished, Mr. Holmes,” Van Helsing shook the detective’s hand, “it was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Van Helsing,” Holmes shook the vampire hunter’s hand.

As Van Helsing walked off into the night, Holmes could only guess what the bastard Salieri aka serial killer and rapist Lord Belfor had turned Vitttoria Donna Gina into when he used to sneak into her caravan trailer as she was touring Germany with Hemlock the Magician.

The Man With The Golden Mask- sometimes of tragedy and sometimes of comedy- had told Holmes that this stranger (Salieri Belfor) had stolen something from Vittoria Donna Gina.

Holmes now knew what that was.

And now Holmes knew why Vittoria only went out at night and not during the day.

And what that medication (as Hemlock called it) that looked like red iodine in a bottle- what that medication actually was that Hemlock gave her.

It was Vittoria Donna Gina’s sustenance that prevented her from attacking the blood of innocents.

To be continued.

-A Sherlock Holmes novella chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 25th
2015.

This blog post contains the links to my previous chapters in The Giant Rat of Sumatra (that I wrote back in 2010):

https://draculvanhelsing.wordpress.com/2015/09/16/the-giant-rat-of-sumatra/

Permalink 12 Comments

Next page »