Tamara and Pamela

October 11, 2021 at 10:35 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Tamara and Pamela: Going our way, Mr. Albion?

The year was 1937.

The city was Los Angeles Californa.

And walking down the street was Carson Cody Albion Private Eye.

When suddenly the back door of a very large car opened and two beautiful young women greeted him:

“Going our way, Mr. Albion?”.

“I’m always going your way, Tamara and Pamela,” Albion answered.

Albion got into the car.

Another car was parked on the side of the street.

Its backseat occupant was one Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.

He asked the car’s driver (who was the chauffeur to the German Consul in Los Angeles), “Was that the private eye Carson Cody Albion?”.

“It was,” the chauffeur nodded.

“Merde,” Kohler spoke the only French word he knew, “Another car picked him up before we could.”

Carson Cody Albion Private Eye had fun the rest of the day.

Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau did not.

To Be Continued.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 11th
2021.

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October 2019: Fauci Plots Release of Virus From China To Bring About A Universal mRNA Flu Vaccine

October 9, 2021 at 11:00 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Sorcery, Technology, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

British MP Renfield R. Renfield was reading a report prepared by the Set Enterprises Intelligence Unit.

The Unit had discovered a video of a meeting that Dr. Anthony Fauci had had with HHS (the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services) back in October 2019.

Fauci and the HHS wanted to find a way to impose a universal flu vaccine on the citizens of the world.

Fauci wanted a vaccine that wasn’t really a vaccine but rather an mRNA genetic serum.

Trouble was it would probably take another 10 years before approval of mRNA testing on humans would be given.

Fauci’s solution: “We blow the system up.”

His suggestion was to disrupt the bureaucratic process and cut through all the red tape using an “entity of excitement” possibly the release of “an avian flu virus from China” that would allow them to bring in Emergency Use Authorization (EUA) of “a global RNA vaccine to be tested out on the public”.

Of course as it turned out, it wasn’t an avian flu virus from China that would be released out upon the world.

It was a bat Coronavirus virus for which Dr. Anthony Fauci had been financing Gain-of-Function research into at the Wuhan Institute of Virology.

It was for this reason that for the past year and a half Renfield had been maintaining that Dr. Anthony Fauci should be tried with Crimes Against Humanity, found guilty and then be taken out and shot by firing squad.

Renfield felt the same process should be proscribed for George Soros, Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab and Xi Jinping as well.

. . .

Zeus was having dinner with his brothers Hades (god of the Underworld) and Poseidon (god of the ocean).

“Ny son Apollo is up to something,” Zeus said as he bit into a huge slice of roast beef.

“Mermaids have been telling me that he’s worried about his son Aclepius,” Poseidon bit into a huge lobster that would have made Set Enterprises’ clairvoyant employee Michelangelo wince.

“The fallen Archangel Mephistopheles (who belongs to a race of beings even older than us Olympians or our predecessors the Titans) recently demanded that I release Asclepius from the realm of the Underworld along with the ghost of the Renaissance alchemist Dr. Johann Georg Faust,” Hades bit into a huge dish of Bavarian magic mushrooms.

“That’s interesting,” Zeus ordered a bottle of Corona beer.

“It happened once before,” Hades pulled a mushroom out of his beard.

“It did?” Zeus was quizzical.

“Yes, back in the late 1930s Mephistopheles had requsted that I release Asclepius from the Underworld,” Hades ordered some more wine.

“Faust was still alive in the 1930s, wasn’t he?” Poseidon asked.

“Yes, Faust didn’t die until 2011 when Renfield R. Renfield who was then the Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering For Set Enterprises at the time hired an Irish arsonist to burn him alive until he was dead,” Hades replied.

. . .

It was May 8th 1945 and the Greek goddess Hera (Queen of Olympus) was in a cheap Bed and Breakfast room in Cornwall with the ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

Hera: So Germany has now surrendered?

Set: Yes, but I hear the American OSS (Office of Strategic Services) is now working to bring the most brilliant Nazi psychiatrists and behavioural scientists to America.
So I suspect a Fourth Reich will someday arise in America.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday October 9th
2021.

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Is The Cure Worse Than The Disease?

October 8, 2021 at 10:57 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, News, Religion, Sorcery, Technology, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“The vaccine wasn’t developed for the virus. The virus was developed for the vaccine.”
-British MP Renfield R. Renfield

While the mainstream media was busy blathering away the latest globlalist propaganda bullshit and political leaders all across the globe were coming down like the Full Adolf and the Full Stalin on their citizens, the ghosts of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were calmly sitting in the sitting room of the London based billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set.

Holmes was smoking a pipe and Watson was enjoying a spot of tea.

The two had been dispensationally released from the Underworld of Hades at the request of Anubis who was Set’s jackal-headed son.

“So, Watson, we know that back in the late 20-teens, the egotistical jackass Dr. Anthony Fauci (good friend of Bill Gates and other leading globalists) had started funding Gain-of-Function research specifically into the bat coronavirus at the Wuhan Institute of Virology. Then sometime in the late autumn of 2019/early winter of 2020 (right after the satanic antipope Jorge Mario Bergoglio had welcomed the demonic dragon/human female shapeshifting Inca earth mother goddess Pachamama into the Vatican) reports of a strange respiratory disease started surfacing in the city of Wuhan. The WHO (whose biggest funders are Bill Gates and the Chinese Communist regime in Beijing) blamed it on market stalls selling bats at a Wuhan wet market. Unbiased evidence suggests that the virus was actually released from the Wuhan Institute of Virology itself.
Now the question is, was it intentional or accidental?
Donald Trump in 2020 had ordered Operation Warpspeed against the Sars-Cov-2 Virus called Covid-19 by the pro-Communist WHO and called the Wuhan CCP Virus by intelligent people.
He had not ordered Warpspeed using regular vaccines but rather mRNA genetic serums which in 20 years of unsuccessful experiments on animals had killed off every single animal they had experimented on.
So what was good enough for animals was certainly good enough for humans as far as Big Pharma (the big pharmaceutical companies) was concerned.
Interesting Watson that pharmakeia the Greek word for pharmaceuticals is also the Greek word for sorcery as found in the Book of The Apocalypse Revelation 18:23 “For by thy sorceries were all nations deceived.”
Turning to the most recent statistics, the Vermont Department of Health (Vermont, home of Neo-Menshevik Bernie Sanders, is the most vaccinated state per capita in the American nation) has admitted that 76% of Covid deaths in Vermont the past month occurred in the fully vaccinated.
In fact the only places in the world where it is claimed according to the latest statistics (which may be damned lies in Benjamin Disraeli’s opinion) that it is the unvaccinated who are the majority in dying is in the Canadian prairie provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan.
Much chicanery and skulduggery is going on in those provinces.
Just as Albus Dumbledore had Hermione Granger in his army, so too Voldemorte has a Hermione (last name unknown) and it is her and her disciples at work in the Canadian provinces of Alberta and Saskatchewan.
As you may not know, Watson, since you practiced medicine in a time when medicine actually was an honourable profession, these experimental gene-transfer Covid vaccines produce the loaded weapon of a toxic spike protein.
And this spike protein itself is independently pathnogenic.
So it’s possible that this “vaccine” with its independently pathnogenic spike protein is worse than the original Covid virus itself.
And it’s the pathnogenic spike protein in the Pfizer and Covid “vaccines” (genetic serums) that may in fact be the Delta variant that’s killing so many people vaccinated and unvaccinated alike.

The ghost of Orson Welles then ran an ancient film projector that showed the Nuremberg Rally of 1938 which showed a holographic image of Bill Gates being projected from the future saying, “It’s about the population control, stupid.”
This was followed by a holographic image of World Economic Forum Chairman Klaus Schwab saying, “It’s also about the Transhumanism, stupid.”
This was followed by a holographic image of Jorge Mario Bergoglio (aka Pope Francis) carrying his seminary report card prominently displaying an “F” in Latin and an “F” in Doctrinal Theology and saying, “Has anybody seen my Pachamama?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday October 8th
2021.

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Liaison At The Palais Garnier

May 20, 2021 at 10:15 pm (Culture, Detective story, Folklore, History, Mystery, Romance, Short Story, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Sitting alongside her friend Estelle in her opera box at the Palais Garnier Opera House in Paris, Nicole read a message that had been delivered to her.

It was a May evening in Paris in the year 1889.

And the 1888-1889 season of the Palais Garnier Paris Opera Company was coming to an end.

The season had begun in September with Verdi’s Aida.

And was coming to an end this May with Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

Nicole and Estelle had thoroughly enjoyed Act I of tonight’s opera.

During intermission there was one man who kept his eyes on Nicole the whole time they were in the lobby.

Returning to their box minutes before Act 2 was to begin, they discussed the excitement surrounding this particular night at the opera.

Aside from the usual rumours surrounding the possible appearance of Erik the Phantom of the Opera, there were other rumours surrounding tonight’s performance.

It was rumoured that Queen Victoria’s eldest son Edward Prince of Wales (who would be the future King Edward VII of Britain) would be attending tonight’s performance incognito under the name Monsieur Claude Adonais.

Various opera goers cast their glances around the seats on the floor and in the opera boxes to see if Monsieur Claude Adonais (aka Edward Prince of Wales) was there.

Just minutes before Act 2 of Don Giovanni was to begin, Nicole received a note.

“What does the note say?” Estelle asked excitedly.

“It says,” Nicole read the note aloud, “My dearest and fairest Mademoiselle, do I have permission to enter your box before tonight’s performance is finished?” And it’s signed Claude Adonais. Then in brackets it says Edward Prince of Wales.”

“The cheek of him,” Estelle shook her head, “Asking to enter your box.”

“I do believe he’s talking about my opera box,” Nicole replied.

“You never know with Edward Prince of Wales,” Estelle noted, “He has quite the reputation.”

Nicole sent a note back.

“What did you say?” Estelle asked.

“I said Oui,” Nicole answered.

“Oh, Nicole,” Estelle sighed.

Just as the scene where Don Giovanni encounters the statue of the slain dead Commendatore (whose daughter Don Giovanni had sexually violated and the Commendatore had died in a sword fight against Don Giovanni defending his daughter’s honour) unfolds, Monsieur Claude Adonais (aka Edward Prince of Wales) entered Nicole’s box (her opera box that is).

“Would you care to come to my hotel room after dinner?” Monsieur Claude Adonais asked, “We’ll have wine, a midnight snack and a most scrumptuous shish kebab of a sword for your dessert.”

Just as on stage the statue of the Commendatore dragged Don Giovanni down to Hell, so too Erik the Phantom of the Opera arrived on his chandelier, grabbed the Prince of Wales and carried him down to the subterranean lake below the Palais Grenier Opera House.

Just as the Phantom was about to drag the Prince of Wales below the depths of the lake, London’s famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes arrived on the scene.

“Your Highness,” Holmes explained, “Your mother the Queen hired me to look out for you. After she heard you were traveling incognito to Paris sans Alexandra your wife, she figured something like this would happen.”

Holmes ripped off the Phantom’s mask.

Erik with a loud cry vanished beneath the waters of the lake.

Holmes then turned to Edward Prince of Wales (under his incognito nom-de-plume Monsieur Claude Adonais), “And as for you, your naughty Royal Highness, your mother has booked a three hour session with my twin sister Sherrielock Holmes for you.”

Edward turned pale, “But isn’t your sister a dominatrix?”.

“She is, your Highness,” Holmes nodded, “And you’ve had it coming.”

Meanwhile Nicole and Estelle sat in a small cafe on the Champs-Elysees.

Nicole opened up a box of chocolates (that had been given her by Edward Prince of Wales Monsieur Claude Adonais) and said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.”

-A short story
and
vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 20th
2021.

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Just Another Day In Paradise

April 11, 2021 at 10:21 pm (Detective story, Film, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mystery, News, Poetry, Politics, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” the woman smiled at Carson Cody Albion Private Eye as she sat on the stairs leading up to his apartment.

The year was 1950.
“Do I know you?”
Albion inquired
After the woman greeted him on the stairs.

“Sadly, we’ve never met before,” the woman continued to smile at him.
“Are you a widow?” Albion asked her, “I notice you’re wearing a black dress and a black veil.”
“I am wearing what you say,” she continued to smile, “But I’m also wearing white flowers in my hair.”
“And wearing a smile,” Albion noted.
“That too,” the woman laughed.
“So you’re not a recent widow?” Albion asked.
“I am a recent widow,” the woman nodded, “but only in the stage play I’m acting in. I murdered my husband. I am a villainess… in the play.”

“Oh,” was Albion’s response as he rolled himself a cigarette.
“I walked direcly from the playhouse to here without stopping to change,” the woman explained.
“And who are you in real life?” Albion asked.
“My name is Sherrielock Holmes,” the woman answered.
“The name sounds familiar,” Albion lit his cigarette.
“Sherlock Holmes was my twin brother,” the woman lifted her veil and accepted a cigarette from Albion.
“But he’s dead and he’d be almost 100 if he was alive and…” Albion did not finish the sentence.
“I’m alive and I’m immortal,” the woman accepted a light.
“That explains everything,” Albion blew out the match.

“It does,” Sherrielock smiled.
“Do you wish to hire me?” Albion sat on a step below her.
“I do,” Sherrielock smiled.
“For what purpose?” Albion wanted to know.
“To investigate Richard M. Nixon,” Sherrielock answered.
“The presumed Republican Party candidate for U.S. Senator from California this year?” Albion took a bottle of bourbon from his coat pocket and took a sip.
“Yes,” Sherrielock nodded.
“Why?” Albion wanted to know.
“To see why Mei-ling Manchu is interested in him,” Sherrielock raised the hem of her skirt.
“Mei-ling Manchu?” Albion blew smoke rings.
“She’s a vampiress and a member of the CCP,” Sherrielock stated.
“CCP?” Albion was quizzical.
“Chinese Communist Party,” Sherrielock smiled, “Not Coca-Cola Playtime.”
“That’s good,” Albion raised his fedora, “Because I hear Nixon drinks Pepsi.”
“And here I was going to offer Tahiti Treat,” Sherrielock laughed.
“What’s Tahiti Treat?” Albion wasn’t familiar with that beverage.

“Well,” Sherrielock spoke breathlessly, “Why don’t we go up to your apartment and I’ll show you?”.
“Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,” said Albion.

A young actor named Marlon Brando cast a glance up the stairwell.

Now there was a line he’d like to be able to use someday or a line like it.

-A Carson Cody Albion narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday April 11th
2021.

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Jack The Ripper Nosferatu

March 31, 2021 at 10:22 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

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.

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Michelangelo’s Dream of Bogey and Bacall

March 27, 2021 at 10:34 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Film, History, Humour, Poetry, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

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.

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Kendra Rai Private Eye

February 20, 2021 at 11:54 pm (Detective story, Espionage, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mystery, News, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Kendra Rai Private Eye

Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London had had one of his paintings stolen from his gallery the past week.

The painting was a rare oil painting painted by Oscar Wilde.

Forrest was one of the few people in the world who knew that Wilde had painted some pictures and set out to find them through his various contacts.

This particular Wilde painting was of Alexander the Great having himself anointed and crowned Pharaoh of Egypt after having conquered Egypt in 332 BC.

On one of the pillars next to where Alexander was being crowned was an interesting set of hieroglyphs in the picture.

According to the story Forrest received, Wilde painted the picture of the hieroglyphs in conjunction with some research that writer Bram Stoker (the eventual author of Dracula and later The Jewel of Seven Stars) was doing.

Of course during the pandemic and Boris Johnson’s massive UK lockdown, The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery was not open to the public.

However Forrest had virtual exhibits of his paintings and art treasures on-line.

And appropriately socially distant private viewings could be arranged via emails with Forrest.

Last week he had shown the Oscar Wilde painting of Pharaoh Alexander the Great and the pillar of hieroglyphs on-line in a virtual exhibit.

The next night the painting was stolen.

On the advice of a friend, he hired London private investigator Kendra Rai to find it being told that she was the best private investigator in London.

London Private Investigator Kendra Rai the best private eye in London

Kendra Rai took the case immediately.

A case that would satisfy her intense intellectual curiosity and challenge her mind.

Kendra emailed a photo of the original Wilde painting of Pharaoh Alexander with the hieroglyphically inscribed pillar to an Egyptologist she knew at the British Museum wanting a translation of the hieroglyphs from him.

Kendra received an excited middle of the night phone call from the Egyptologist once he had translated them.

She was angry about being awakened in the middle of the night but once he told her the translation, she was no longer angry.

Kendra thanked the Egyptologist and put her phone down.

She now knew the reason why the painting was probably stolen.

And suspected who might be behind it.

Rogue MI-5 agents (although MI-5 was still unaware that these agents were rogue) Benedict Pence and Mike Arnold came mincing into their luxury apartment after a night on the town.

Of course they shouldn’t be on a night on the town during lockdown but both fancied that rules didn’t apply to them (God knew that certain rules laid down in Deuteronomy and Leviticus they didn’t follow).

On the wall of their apartment by the door they had a painting of Brutus and Cassius stabbing Julius Caesar to death.

On the opposite side of the room, they had a painting of Judas Iscariot getting paid his 30 pieces of silver from the Jerusalem Temple priests.

Both men as they entered noticed a bottle of champagne with two glasses in the middle of the room.

Thinking that the other had ordered it, both men took the glasses, poured themselves some champagne and had a toast.

They drank.

A light went on in a corner of the darkened room showing Kendra Rai Private Eye sitting there.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Kendra Rai smiled at them, “I don’t bring you tidings of great joy like on a certain evening of March 13th 2013 when someone else wished the world a “Good evening”. Rather to let you know that your champagne has been poisoned. I have the antidote in my purse along with my gun. So don’t try anything rash. I will give you the antidote when you tell me where the painting you stole is. And don’t tell me what painting. I’ve had the hieroglyphs translated. I know it was probably you who took it.”

“You’re bluffing,” Pence gulped.

“Try me,” Kendra laughed, “I have nothing to lose. You do.”

“We sold it to a certain billionaire,” Arnold gulped, “We won’t mention the billionaire. He doesn’t have it yet. It’s being shipped out of the country tonight.”

“Do you know the location of where it’s being shipped from?” Kendra asked.

“We do,” Pence and Arnold both nodded at the same time.

“Come, gentlemen,” Kendra held up a vial and also pointed a gun at them, “We’re going for a ride. And you better hope we get there in time to stop that painting leaving the country.”

Kendra did get there in time.

The painting was retrieved.

An anxiously sweating Pence and Arnold were given the vial.

And Kendra Rai returned the painting to Dashwood Forrest telling him to lock the painting in his safe and to no longer display it in any exhibits virtual or otherwise.

When she told him what the hieroglyphs on the pillar in the painting said, Forrest knew the reason.

The hieroglyphs gave the formula for making a deadly plague to be released on the world capable of killing most of the planet’s population.

Kendra had an idea which global billionaire probably wanted it.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday February 20th
2021.

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Carson Cody Albion Encounters Greek Goddess Psyche In Shanghai

February 12, 2021 at 11:16 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, History, International Intrigue, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


The Greek goddess Psyche in Shanghai

The year was 1947.

And Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion was pursuing an arms smuggler to Shanghai.

Albion had been hired by Howard Hughes of all people.

Howard Hughes, one evening after drinking far too much, had taken to his room what one Hughes accomplice called “the ugliest looking woman that he had ever seen”.

The “ugliest looking woman” turned out to be FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover in drag.

The equally inebriated Mr./Ms. Hoover told Hughes that there was a Hollywood film mogul that was strongly suspected of Communist sympathies.

This film mogul had paid for arms to be shipped to Mao Tse-tung’s Communist forces in China.

And an arms dealer would soon be sailing to Shanghai China from the Port of Los Angeles carrying arms to be delivered to a Mao Tse-tung associate in Shanghai.

Hughes did not trust the FBI to capture the arms dealer and his arms.

He felt leery of an agency headed by a man who dressed in drag.

So he hired Carson Cody Albion to sail aboard the ship S.S. Call of The Orient and to be on the lookout for any suspicious people who might be arms dealers.

Albion recognized a Greek importer of Persian rugs on the ship Alexander Darius and wondered why he wasn’t on the U.S. East Coast sailing a ship to Greece or Iran.

Albion suspected that Darius was the arms dealer.

Upon arrival in Shanghai, he noticed Darius had large amounts of crates delivered to a warehouse in the city.

Albion entered the warehouse and opened one of the crates.

It was full of various guns.

He alerted Shanghai Police Authorities and the warehouse was raided and the arms were seized by forces loyal to the Nationalist Kuomintang Government of China under President Chiang Kai-shek.

That night Alexander Darius visited Albion’s hotel room and labelled his room full of bullets.

It was fortunate for Albion that he wasn’t in his hotel room that night.

However the noise of the bullets disturbed the occupants of the next room to Albion’s which were a powerful Shanghai courtesan and her client.

The noise of the bullets caused the courtesan’s client to ejaculate prematurely leaving an enormous stain on the courtesan’s expensive silk sheets.

Angered the courtesan left her room and carrying her own gun encountered Alexander Darius who now stood holding an empty gun after spraying bullets around Albion’s room.

She shot Alexander Darius dead.

He wouldn’t be importing any more Persian rugs to America or exporting any more U.S. arms to China.

Meanwhile Albion had gone to a bar called The Shanghai Scorpion.

While there, he happened to glance in the direction of the lounge’s statue of Kwan Yin the Buddhist goddess of mercy and noticed a woman standing in front of the statue.

Albion recognized the woman from his Encyclopedia of Greek Mythology.

She was the Greek goddess Psyche wife of Eros/Cupid the Greco-Roman god of love (who was the son of Aphrodite/Venus).

“Aren’t you the Greek goddess Psyche?” Albion approached her with his drink in hand.

“I am,” Psyche answered.

“What are you doing here in Shanghai?” Albion asked, “So far from Greece?”.

“It’s getting close to Valentine’s Day and I’m sick of my hubby Cupid going around shooting arrows into people’s hearts,” Psyche sighed, “So I came to Shanghai to escape all his Valentine’s Day madness.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Albion asked.

“Why not?” Psyche agreed.

After The Shanghai Scorpion Lounge closed, Albion and Psyche went back to Psyche’s hotel room.

Thus saving Albion’s life.

Of course Albion had become immortal a few years ago so the bullets of Alexander Darius might not have had an effect.

But they were silver bullets.

So then again they might have.

Still Albion got to watch the Shanghai sunrise with the Greek goddess Psyche.

The same could not be said for Alexander Darius.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday February 12th
2021.

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Purr-lock Holmes The Purr-fect Detective

February 7, 2021 at 11:14 pm (Detective story, Entertainment, Humour, Poetry) (, )

Purr-lock Holmes the Purr-fect Detective

He was Purr-lock Holmes the purr-fect detective
His reasoning was definitely not defective
With a meow here and a meow there
His magnifying glass looked everywhere
He was hot on the trail
With a flash of his tail
Les-trod of Barnyard Yard could not keep up
And he was often left holding the cup

Doctor Barksome was a cocker spaniel
Whose name wasn’t mentioned in the Book of Daniel
He was Purr-lock’s chronicler and sidekick
Who often gave his paw a lick

And Purr-lock’s most frightening case
Whose tale when told gives one’s heart a race
Was the Hound of the Basket-villes
Whose mere mention gave one the chills
And made one forget to take Dodd’s Kidney Pills

The Hound of the Basket-villes terrorized the countryside
And Inspector Les-trod wasn’t taking it in stride
Purr-lock Holmes was called in on the case
Thus with trusty pipe in place
Firmly in mouth on his face
Purr-lock set out on the trail
Travelling by train on the rail

He arrived near the manor of Basket-ville Hall
Where it seemed that his fur was starting to crawl
So Purr-lock set out on the trail of Hugo Basket-ville
And what he saw hence gave him quite the thrill
For there was Hugo with his mistress so fine
That it made one want to stop and dine

For Hugo’s mistress was Marilyn most fair
When you’ve got her, why chase a hare?
For Hugo was looking for fair flowers to pick
And didn’t know his barking would break the candlestick
Causing rumours to surface of a hound of Old Nick

So the case was solved and the hound was no ghost
And Les-trod’s career was now nothing but toast
Purr-lock and Barksome returned to London
And Hugo was left having nothing but fun-some

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday February 7th 2021.

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