Jack The Ripper Nosferatu
British MP Renfield R. Renfield received an email from Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol.
Whitstable was doing research into Count Orlok Nosferatu the bald-headed vampire who was the subject of F.W. Murnau’s 1922 German Expressionist silent film Nosferatu.
Whitstable had come across a diary from 1888 in which Count Orlok Nosferatu claimed that he had turned the man Scotland Yard called Jack the Ripper into a nosferatu back in the spring of 1888.
And that the murders of the Ripper’s Autumn of Terror in London in the late summer and early autumn of 1888 was Jack the Ripper going through an intense blood lust common to beginning nosferatu.
As he matured in his nosferatuhood, Jack settled down and just bit women on the neck to remove their blood instead of cutting their throats and removing their internal organs like he did when he was the Leather Apron Whitechapel Murderer of the Autumn of 1888.
After reading the email, Renfield recalled an antique journal that London art gallery curator Dashwood Forrest had come across written by a woman named Colleen Darcy O’ Derby who had apparently worked in a brothel in the seaside town resort of Brighton.
The experience that happened to Miss O’ Derby one spring night in 1889 struck Renfield as being an encounter with a nosferatu.
Renfield rang Forrest up and asked if he could take a look at the journal.
Forrest agreed and Renfield drove over in his 1937 Peugeot 402 Darl’mat to the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery.
Taking a look at the March 31st 1889 Journal entry, Renfield read in Miss Colleen Darcy O’Derby’s own words,
“This Jack as he called himself was a peculiar client.
Peculiar and repugnant.
He had a bald head, an elongated face, a flat nose, sinister lips, a mountainous chin and deadset eyes.
Like a human skull that still had a thin layer of flesh attached to it.
I could not sleep with the man no matter how much he paid me.
I ran from the room.
Along a boardwalked path that still had a chill in the air.
It felt more like winter than spring.
The few trees and few bushes along the path had the look of dead late autumn to them.
I felt like something was behind me.
A giant head without a body.
I turned and that’s exactly what it was.
A giant head without a body.
I screamed.
He gave a leering smile and a body of a caped figure carrying a walking stick suddenly appeared below the giant head as it shrank in size and attached itself to the body of the caped figure carrying the walking stick.
He spoke, in a hiss, like a snake, “I should do to you what I did to those women in Whitechapel last fall.”
I froze.
Was he the Whitechapel Murderer?
Leather Apron?
Jack the Ripper?
“But you’re too beautiful for that,” he grinned like the face of sinister Death as depicted in Churches built during the era of the Black Death.
Fangs protruded from his sinister lips and he bit me on the neck.
I could feel the blood and the life force drifting out of me.
He stopped.
He spoke, “You have only one ounce of blood left my dear. Should I drain it and turn you into a nosferatu? No. No, my dear. Your hair is far too beautiful for that. Baldness does not become you. A mere vampiress you shall be. Not nosferatu.”
And with that, he departed into the dark stormy sky from whence he came.
And I became a vampiress.”
“Very interesting,” Renfield made notes.
He then closed the journal, thanked Dashwood Forrest and returned to his car.
A beautiful woman with beautiful beautiful long long dark hair stood watching him as he got into his 1937 Peugeot 402 Darl’mat Roadster.
She smiled.
Her fangs glistened in the dark.
She put her hands through her long dark luxurious hair and laughed.
She was definitely vampiress.
But not nosferatu.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 31st
2021.
A Tale of Two Viruses
“In the space of one year from March 2020 to March 2021, much of the world has gone from Democracy to Demonocracy.”
-Renfield R. Renfield
While most of the talking heads on mainstream news television continued to blather on about America being the land of the free and the home of the brave, the Biden Administration was going ahead with plans to implement a vaccine passport across the country.
This news was not being reported by fringe “conspiracy theorists” (as the mainstream media likes to label anyone who disagrees with their narrative) but by those bastions of Orwellian Neo-Stalinst orthodoxy (which was the mainstream news narrative in America and throughout the Western world) The Washington Post and CNN.
Two days ago, The Washington Post blathered this headline VACCINE PASSPORTS ARE ON THE WAY, BUT DEVELOPING THEM WON’T BE EASY.
Obviously the Biden Administration would have to go to the History books and examine the way German Nazi efficiency developed a passport document system throughout the Reich New Order that was most of continental Europe in the early years of World War II.
For it was clear that the Biden Administration was incapable of coming up with such a plan themselves (no doubt inspired by their leader who trips over his feet and falls 3 times while going up the steps of Air Force One).
The Washington Post blathered 5 hours ago REPUBLICANS SEEK TO MAKE VACCINE PASSPORTS THE NEXT BATTLE IN THE PANDEMIC CULTURE WARS.
Pandemic Culture Wars? Now there’s a phrase that only a brainless liberal-leftist adherent of Antonio Gramsci’s Cultural Marxism would come up with.
Which explains why The Washington Post came up with it.
Furthermore most Republicans couldn’t care less about opposing a vaccine passport plan.
The way they’ve conducted themselves since last November’s election shows that Republicans are only one wing of what I called years ago the Perpetual War, Pedophilia and Corruption Party with the Democrats being the other wing.
As a friend of mine who’s a Calgary-based geopolitical analyst told me earlier today, “The fact that a total sleazebag like Mitt Romney won the John F. Kennedy Profile In Courage Award is proof positive that one can’t be a satirist anymore.”
John F. Kennedy must be rolling over in his grave.
The equally cultural Marxist and brainless CNN blathered this headline a day ago, BIDEN ADMINISTRATION HELPING DEVELOP STANDARDS TO PROVE VACCINATION.
It’s no wonder that Biden’s vaccine passport program is being dubbed Biden’s Mark of the Beast without “which no man might buy or sell”. Rev. 13:17
-From British MP Renfield R. Renfield’s Tuesday night podcast editorial, Tuesday March 30th 2021.
. . .
Jeb was angry.
He walked away from the door of the hall.
He was next in line to enter but security at the door told him that all doses of the vaccine in the hall were used up.
He’d have to come back tomorrow.
Here he had spent a year in lockdown.
He had lost his job.
His rent deferral program would be running out.
Joe Biden and the mainstream media kept telling him that he needed this vaccine for the Covid-19 virus so that things would return to normal.
And the vaccine doses had run out just as he was next.
74-year-old Richard Terrell of Goochland County Virginia probably wished that the doses had run out just before he received his vaccine.
Terrell had received a dose of Johnson & Johnson Covid-19 vaccine earlier this month.
Four days later, Terrell began developing an itchy rash and his skin began to swell, turn red and burn.
After a few days the rash covered his entire body and his skin peeled off.
The 74-year-old was admitted to hospital and spent 5 days at the VCU Medical Centre.
But that story would no doubt go widely unreported on mainstream media.
Jeb was just angry that he didn’t get the vaccine.
He noticed an elderly Asian woman across the street from him.
Jeb seethed.
This was her fault and the fault of others like her.
“Go back to China,” he shouted at her.
The woman who was partially deaf did not hear him and continued walking.
Angry at being ignored, he ran across the street, grabbed the woman and turned her around.
He shouted at her, “You brought this virus to America.”
Jeb then punched her in the face and she fell to the ground.
Some by-standers saw the incident and gave chase.
Jeb quickly ran back across the street and was hit by an oncoming high-speeding car.
As Jeb lay dying on the street, a demon appeared to him.
“Who the Hell are you?” Jeb asked in fright.
“I am Baal-Aeshma-Echthra the demon of hatred,” the demon grinned, “And I would like to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me for what?” Jeb asked.
“For helping bring my virus to America,” the demon laughed.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 30th
2021.
Yaldabaoth’s Interesting 48 Hours
“I understand Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun has had an interesting 48 hours,” British MP Renfield R. Renfield remarked to his friend Amadeus Emanon as they sat down to late evening tea and crumpets in the dining room of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal west London mansion.
“He did?” Amadeus bit into a crumpet.
“Yes, yesterday he was almost arrested by Irish Garda police for driving a Catholic priest to his parish church to say public Mass,” Renfield answered.
“Is that a crime?” Amadeus was shocked.
“It is now,” Renfield nodded, “The Antichrist government of the once Catholic nation of Ireland is now the most Antichrist government in Western Europe. They’re recently made it a crime for a priest to leave his home to say a public Mass as well as made it a crime for anyone to leave their home to attend Catholic Mass.”
“How did Yaldabaoth escape the Irish Garda Police?” Amadeus inquired.
“The car Yaldabaoth was driving was a replica of the Batmobile from the 1966-68 television series Batman starring Adam West and Burt Ward (that the little leprechaun won in a Guinness drinking contest a few years back) so he managed to outrun them,” Renfield explained.
“Then what did Yaldabaoth do in his next 24 hours?” Amadeus poured himself a cup of English Breakfast Tea even though he was having late evening tea and crumpets.
“Well, earlier today Yaldabaoth was small enough to fit inside a baby submarine the Seed of Nautilus that succeeded in freeing the 1300 foot Evergreen Marine container ship MV Ever Given that was stuck in the Suez Canal,” Renfield smiled.
“Yaldabaoth was responsible for freeing the Ever Given?” Amadeus was astounded.
“Yes, his mother Sophia the Greco-Egyptian Gnostic goddess of wisdom should be so proud,” Renfield sipped his own cup of English Breakfast Tea.
Meanwhile the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was having a phone conversation with his CEO of Set Enterprises a man called Watson Holmes.
“This is a public relations disaster,” Set wept in his beer, “Our company has baby subs. We could have easily leant Yaldabaoth one when he was doing his deep canal route dive to free the Ever Given that was stuck in the Suez Canal. Instead my rival, sister and sister-in-law the Paris based Egyptian vampiress Isis gets all the glory and publicity for letting Yaldabaoth use her baby sub the Seed of Nautilus ”
“I’m afraid it was that idiot Dr. Marmalade Montague who took the phone call when Yaldabaoth phoned Set Enterprises,” Set Enterprises’ CEO Watson Holmes explained, “Dr. Montague misheard and thought Yaldabaoth was asking for a baby tub to use. And Marmalade said, “Sorry, we have no baby tubs” and hung up the phone.
Meanwhile in Paris, France the Egyptian vampiress Isis (who was worshipped as the goddess of the moon, magic and healing in ancient Egypt and who was Set’s rival, sister and sister-in-law as well as the wife of Osiris and the mother of Horus) was basking in the glory of having had her baby sub the Seed of Nautilus used by Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun in freeing the container ship Ever Given from the Suez Canal.
She was being photographed by the assembled world press.
Egypt’s goddess Isis basking in glory.
It was a good thing for Yaldabaoth that he was still in Egypt.
Otherwise he might have keeled over and died on the spot had he been in Paris and saw the killer outfit that Isis was wearing.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 29th
2021.
Michelangelo’s Vision of What Happened In The Suez
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a vision of what happened in the Suez Canal:
When informed of Michelangelo’s vision, British MP Renfield R. Renfield commented, “What happens in the Suez, stays in the Suez.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 28th
2021.
Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall
Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster had a dream where he was playing Humphrey Bogart’s character of Philip Marlowe and having an encounter with Lauren Bacall.
After waking up, he decided to write a narrative poem about his dream.
He went over to his waterproof laptop to start writing but then decided to use his recently bought old vintage Underwood typewriter that had been custom refurbished to work underwater.
Grabbing some waterproof sheets of paper, he inserted them into his waterproof old vintage Underwood typewriter and started typing the poem.
Bogey and Bacall: Philip Marlowe’s Right On The Ball
A narrative poem
By Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster
Narrated in the First Person
By Philip Marlowe
(As played by Humphrey Bogart)
So I had come home after a hard day on the case
Rather difficult to try to sleep on a case of bourbon
I did do some work on that other case
Trying to find Max Spellbein’s younger daughter
Where do younger daughters hang out these days anyways?
I went down to Frankie’s Jazz Cafe
The Pink Flamingo Lounge
And even The Silverstar Nightclub
Nothing.
No sign of her.
I even went down to the bus depot and the shipyard
Her ship must have sailed when my bus came in
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Difficult to make sense
When one’s mind is adrift
In a sea of bourbon.
I lit a cigarette
Put it in my mouth
And made a silent prayer
That this combination of alcohol and flame
Didn’t send me up like a rocket on New Year’s Eve.
I thought I heard piano music coming from my piano
Which was strange
I rarely play the piano these days
Not since I got my fingers caught in that mousetrap
Under the altar of Saint Ignatius’ Church
When I said to the good priest,
“Pray it again, Sam.”
After sitting in my chair
Looking up at the ceiling
And watching the paint dry
It suddenly hit me
That I hadn’t painted this place in ages
So there was no drying paint to watch
That was definitely music I was hearing
So either someone was playing the piano
Or the angels were calling me
So I walked into the piano room
And there at the piano
Sat Max Spellbein’s elder daughter
Lauren Bacall: Playing the piano and singing, “When smoke gets in your eyes…”
I stood there
Inhaled the air from the open window
And realized I wouldn’t be spending the night alone.
-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 27th
2021.
The Tallbanger Scene
1921 Hollywood.
The director Charles William Lewis was directing a scene.
A strange looking man Count Nosferatu had recently approached him about directing a vampire film- an adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula.
Lewis had agreed.
And today he would be shooting the scene where Count Nosferatu bites two young women.
Unbeknownst to Lewis, Count Nosferatu was working as an operative for the Soviet Commisar of War Leon Trotsky.
Trotsky was fascinated by the Count Nosferatu’s power of hypnosis.
He was wondering if this hypnotic power could come across via this new medium of film.
If someone like Nosferatu could hypnotize movie audiences and say… make them all Communist in their thinking, it would certainly be a new warfare tactic.
Trotsky would try this experiment in the greatest bastion of capitalism in the world- the United States of America.
And thus Nosferatu went to America.
To Hollywood.
And to the now long forgotten Charles William Lewis Studios.
But a friend of British politician Winston Churchill had found out about the Trotsky-Count Nosferatu Plan.
And acting on behalf of Churchill, the friend had gone to America.
To Hollywood.
To the now long forgotten Charles William Lewis Studios.
Nosferatu was now about to make his first appearance in the movie to his two young victims.
He found himself hit over the head by a box of carrots and rendered unconscious.
Churchill’s friend then made his own appearance in the movie.
Although he himself could not be seen.
But his shadow could.
The two actresses screamed.
If the film had been shot in colour and Churchill’s friend could actually be seen (and not just his shadow) the camera would have shown a 6 foot 8 tall bunny rabbit with big pink floppety ears.
Count Nosferatu vanished from history.
Although a German actor named Max Schreck would later play Nosferatu’s persona in an F.W. Murnau directed German Expressionist film released a year later in 1922.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 26th
2021.
Memories of Selena
Selena Quintanilla
Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell was the CEO of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. in London.
He had become the CEO of the company after buying it (through a loan given to him by the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set) in 2018.
Previously he had been an Executive Vice-President of the Company.
This past year of the pandemic there had not been much recording going on at his studios on Abbey Road- the Wuthering Heights and Glencoe Hospitality Recording Studios.
As most musicians and singers did their performances via podcast and livestream.
So Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell had used the past year to write his memoirs.
He had run for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination in the U.S. and had come in an extremely extremely extremely distant third behind Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton.
He moved to London England in 2010 to become Executive Vice-President of Aulos Music and Recording Ltd. to fulfill a lifelong dream he had of one day becoming a music producer.
Prior to his Presidential run, he had been an Executive Vice-President of Vidal Sassoon Hair Products.
Today he was busy recalling the year 1994.
He was remembering the day that year a friend of his had invited him to a small recording studio that the friend owned in San Antonio, Texas.
He recalled walking through the door of the recording studio and there sitting on a chair was a woman with one of the loveliest smiles he had ever seen in his life.
Selena Quintanilla
Campbell was disappointed in himself for at that time he had never heard of this young and promising young star bound to become a superstar.
She however sang and recorded a song in his friend’s studio that day.
It was a song in Spanish.
It was so beautiful that Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell resolved someday to learn the language.
Sadly he had never done that either up until this point in his life.
He recalled a year later in 1995 the day that he had heard Selena had been shot and killed by the President of her own fan club.
March 31st 1995.
In less than a week, it would be the 26th anniversary of her tragic death.
A young talent taken from the world too soon.
A lovely smile taken from the world too soon.
-written by Christopher
Thursday March 25th
2021.
Miranda Singh Vs. The Zombie Nosferatu
British MP Renfield R. Renfield and his friend Amadeus Emanon were down at the Set Enterprises Laboatories in London.
They were talking with Set Enterprises’ eccentric scientist Dr. Marmalade Montague while Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was in his aquarium playing Frederic Chopin’s Prelude In E-Minor on his underwater piano.
“So that was one of the underreported big news stories last week,” Dr. Marmalade Montague remarked, “North Korean dictator Kim Jong-un’s younger sister Kim Yo-jong is threatening to kick Joe Biden’s senile old ass.”
“I wonder if she’ll be doing that while Biden is debating Russian President Vladimir Putin on livestream,” Renfield commented, “that is if Biden accepts Putin’s challenge of a debate which I doubt he will.”
“What’s Kim Yo-jong doing issuing ultimatums on behalf of North Korea?” Amadeus Emanon asked, “Is she acting as de facto leader of North Korea?”.
“Undoubtedly,” Renfield nodded.
“What’s Kim Jong-un doing?” Amadeus wanted to know.
“Undoubtedly taking one of his lengthy refrigerator breaks,” Renfield answered, “Either that or going on a diet after one of his lengthy refrigerator breaks.”
Suddenly Michelangelo started tapping a unique sound on his piano keys.
“What is that?” Renfield listened attentively to the sound.
“It’s Morse code,” Dr. Marmalade Montague answered.
“Morse code?” Renfield looked puzzled, “I thought that went out of use when the last telegraph line was eaten by the last dinosaur.”
Extremely Curious George the recently created stegosaurus shot Renfield an extremely curious look when he walked by the room.
He continued down the hallway.
Presumably in search of the last telegraph line.
“Michelangelo saw a vision a moment ago,” Dr. Marmalade Montague started jotting down dots and dashes on his notepad with his pencil, “so not having the power of vocal speech, he’s communicating what he saw. Apparently Set Enterprises’ secret intelligence agent Miranda Singh is in mortal danger. Zombie nosferatu at the American CIA are plotting to kill her. Even now zombie nosferatu are descending upon a castle in Spain as we speak.”
“What’s Miranda doing at a castle in Spain?” Renfield asked.
“She’s currently on a modeling fashion photo shoot for Shinihas Ageless Collection,” Dr. Montague replied.
Miranda Singh’s cover was working as a fashion model at various locales in the world.
“We better warn her,” said Amadeus.
“Already on it,” Dr. Montague parted curtains next to his office water cooler.
Behind the curtains was an unusual contraption.
“That looks like a 1940s era ham radio,” Renfield remarked.
“That’s because it is,” Montague started sending out a transmission on it, “Miranda has a radio receiver in her left earring.”
Meanwhile in Joe Biden’s Oval Office, a high-ranking Neo-Bolshevik Communist official in the American CIA put down a document on Biden’s desk for him to sign.
“What is this?” Biden asked.
“A document authorizing the assassination of an enemy agent,” the CIA official answered.
“But I didn’t think my signature was required for these?” Biden looked baffled- in other words his usual self.
“Yes, but just on the off chance anything goes wrong in this case, we want the buck to stop here,” the CIA official put down an American dollar bill on Biden’s desk.
“Whose picture is this?” Biden asked.
“George Washington,” the CIA official replied.
“He looks white,” Biden looked carefully at the bill.
“He was white,” the CIA official pointed out.
“But isn’t depicting white guys a sign of racism and white privilege?” Biden scratched his head.
“It is,” the CIA official agreed, “Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is currently trying to track down a rare black and white photo of Karl Marx doing a rare minstrel show performance in London to use as the face on the new American dollar bill which will be printed in time for the next trillion dollar Covid bailout which will bankrupt this country for generations to come.”
“I see,” Biden nodded and signed the paper.
At that moment in Spain a zombie nosferatu American CIA agent (treated with a special formula invented by DARPA using a combination of goats’ milk and old photographic dark room chemical fluid that allowed zombie nosferatu to venture forth in the daylight) approached Miranda Singh.
Miranda Singh turned and faced him directly.
She unhooked her right earring (that contained a silver arrowpoint designed to kill vampires and werewolves) and threw it at him.
The zombie nosferatu fell over dead.
A multiple charging laser beam (activated by the radio receiver in her left ear) then shot out and went forth and killed all the zombie nosferatu in the immediate vicinity.
It was a photo shoot that the Shinihas Ageless Collection camera crew would never forget.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday March 24th
2021.
Renfield’s Dirigible Ride Over Rome
British MP Renfield R. Renfield had borrowed the London-based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s eco-friendly environmentally friendly cannabis powered dirigible airship The Peregrine Falcon to take an aerial sightseeing trip over the city of Rome.
He had invited his friend Amadeus Emanon to join him.
“Did you get the permission of the British government to take this trip?” Amadeus asked as he sipped his strawberry milkshake.
“Of course not,” Renfield licked his chocolate ice cream cone.
“But I thought the British government made it illegal for British nationals to travel outside the country without a reasonable excuse for doing so,” Amadeus mentioned.
“They issued a proclamation to that effect,” Renfield nodded, “A copy of which I recently used as toilet paper. But I just ignore it like I do every other dictatorial decree issued by Boris Johnson’s zombie nosferatu controlled government.”
“I see,” Amadeus put down his empty glass of strawberry milkshake and ordered another from the airship steward, “And how many governments in the world are controlled by zombie nosferatu?”.
“Probably most of them,” Renfield answered.
“The situation doesn’t look very promising,” Amadeus reflected aloud.
“Neither did it look promising for Winston Churchill when he became Prime Minister of Britain in May 1940 and France fell to the Nazis a month later,” Renfield pointed out, “Yet he won in the end.”
“The colosseum where Christians were thrown to the lions,” Amadeus pointed to the ancient structure down below.
“I’m sure the far-left secularist Democrats in the U.S. Congress would like to build colosseums up and down America and throw Christians to the lions all in the name of their so-called Equality Act and every other piece of Days of Lot and Days of Noah and current days of Neo-Bolshevik Communist garbage they can come up with,” Renfield sipped a martini, “And Joe Biden would eagerly sign it.”
“But I thought Joe Biden claimed to be Catholic,” Amadeus took his strawberry milkshake from the steward.
“Yes but Biden doesn’t realize that a Catholic is supposed to be Christian,” Renfield explained, “He thinks a Catholic is supposed to worship Baal and Baphomet like every other registered Democrat who claims to be a Catholic like Nancy Pelosi and New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo and the majority of the USeless Conference of Catholic Bishops in America.”
“I see we’re now flying over Saint Peter’s Basilica,” Amadeus looked down below.
“Where Pope Francis has forbidden priests from celebrating their own private Masses in the various chapels,” Renfield noted, “Something they had been allowed to do for the past 1500 years – in the old Basilica- and then in this present Renaissance era built structure- until now.”
“Why do you suppose Pope Francis has forbade priests from saying private Masses there?” Amadeus ate a chocolate eclair.
“Because most of the private Masses the priests were saying were according to the rite of the old Tridentine Latin Mass and Francis hates the old Tridentine Latin Mass,” Renfield ordered another martini from the airship steward.
“Why does Francis hate the Tridentine Latin Mass?” Amadeus inquired.
“Because Lucifer/Satan/The Devil hates it and I don’t imagine the Inca earth mother goddess Pachamama thinks much of it either,” Renfield replied, “She much prefers the sacrifice of llamas and small children. As for Francis, being a Latin American Jesuit trained in Marxist Liberation Theology, he’d naturally have an antipathy for the old Tridentine Latin Mass.”
“I see almost every government in Western Europe is forbidding public celebrations of Easter Mass this coming Easter,” Amadeus noted.
“Yes, Italy, Germany, the UK and the list goes on and on,” Renfield sipped his second martini.
As nightfall approached, Nero’s ghost walked around the colosseum playing his fiddle.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 23rd
2021.
Portrait of Tapairu The Tahitian Sleeping Beauty
Portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty
“What an absolutely beautiful painting,” Sherrielock Holmes the (quite literally) immortal twin sister of London consulting detective Sherlock Holmes gazed at the newest acquisition now hanging in the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.
Mr. Truffles her orange tabby cat purred in agreement and looked up affectionately at the painting.
“It was painted in Tahiti back in 1894 by one Sean Seamus O’ Gill an Irish painter and artist who lived on the island of Tahiti around the same time as the French artist Paul Gauguin,” Dashwood Forrest the art gallery owner and curator explained, “sadly Mr. O’ Gill is not as well known as Gauguin.”
As the old grandfather clock chimed in the gallery and the statue of a gnome emerged out of a small drawer to turn over an hourglass whose sands had just run out, images from a past time seemed to filter into the present.
Sean Seamus O’ Gill looked at the vision in front of him.
“What a vision,” Sean Seamus O’ Gill remarked to the French missionary priest Father Jacques La Croix.
“It’s like that old Irish hymn whose lyrics begin “Be thou my vision”, eh, Sean?” Father La Croix smiled.
“I guess you could phrase it that way,” Sean nodded, “She does look divine.”
“That she does,” Father La Croix agreed.
“Are you sure she wouldn’t object to being painted while sleeping?” Sean asked.
“No,” Father La Croix shook his head, “She wants to be painted while sleeping. She wants this portrait to be called the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty. She wants to give it as a gift to the man she’s going to marry.”
“She’s engaged?” A look of disappointment crossed Sean’s face.
“Nothing official yet,” Father La Croix answered, “but she hopes to be.”
And so that was how Sean Seamus O’ Gill came to paint the portrait of Tapairu the Tahitian sleeping beauty.
Over the next few months, Sean would sketch drawings and eventually paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu dancing at night in the village center like a royal dancer.
He would sketch drawings and paint pictures afterwards of Tapairu singing to school children during the day.
One of the village matriarchs took notice of his work.
“I’ve been told that an artist likes to depict a subject he loves,” she smiled.
“Um… Tapairu just makes a good subject,” The artist seemed to blush, “That’s all.”
Sean did wonder though which of the many suitors that seemed to want to attract Tapairu’s attention, Tapairu had given her heart to.
On the night of Sean’s birthday, many of the villagers gave Sean gifts.
Tapairu gave Sean a carefully wrapped and rather large present.
Sean opened it.
This was what he saw.
Sean then remembered the words of Father La Croix that she wanted to give the portrait of the Tahitian Sleeping Beauty as a gift to the man she wanted to marry.
Tapairu smiled happily at him.
Sean smiled happily back.
-A short story and
vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 21st 2021.
Dracul Van Helsing 
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