Abe Lincoln’s and Jefferson Davis’ Ghosts In Vatican

March 20, 2017 at 3:51 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

The ghostly figure in the top hat looked around.

He didn’t recognize the place.

But President Lincoln knew he was back on Earth.

A place he hadn’t been in some 152 years.

Lincoln looked and saw another ghostly figure approaching.

He recognized it as the ghost of his arch enemy Jefferson Finis Davis the President of the Confederate States of America.

As Lincoln saw Davis’ specter approach, he reflected on something he often felt when he looked at Davis’ photos when alive, “It’s like looking into a mirror and seeing oneself reflected- the reflection of one’s dark side.”

Abraham Lincoln Jefferson Davis

“Is this some sort of cosmic joke you’re playing, Abe?” Jefferson Davis asked, “Rubbing salt into the wounds of the defeated Confederacy?”.

“I have nothing to do with this,” Lincoln answered, “I thought this was some sort of black magic conjured up on a soulless run plantation in the Deep South.”

The spirits of both men remained silent as sudden strong gusts of wind came up and dark clouds blew over the gardens where they were standing.

Pope Francis and a group of Cardinals walked by and through the spirits of the two men.

“I think we’re probably in the Vatican in Rome,” Abe Lincoln finally spoke.

“I’d have to agree,” Jefferson Davis answered.

From one of the rooms overlooking the Vatican gardens, two intruders looked down- two intruders who could see the ghosts of Abraham Lincoln and Jefferson Davis.

The intruders were Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and Peter Whitstable the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol.

“Who do you think summoned the ghosts of Abe Lincoln and Jefferson Davis to the Vatican?” Whitstable asked Van Helsing.

“Probably someone who hasn’t read the Biblical account of what happened when the Witch of Endor managed to actually summon Samuel’s spirit from the realm of the dead for King Saul of Israel,” Van Helsing answered.

“And who might that be?” Whitstable inquired.

“Most likely a Vatican Cardinal,” Van Helsing answered.

“Probably Cardinal JM,” Whitstable raised the ancient grimoire volume of necromancy he held in his hands- a volume whose autographed inscription read, “To Cardinal JM my personal favourite amongst all my devotees in the Vatican Curia of Cardinals, yours with love, Hecate, Hellenic goddess of witchcraft, sorcery and necromancy.”

“Undoubtedly,” Van Helsing nodded.

Whitstable’s wiretap sounded an alarm.

“Who is that?” Van Helsing asked.

“It’s George Soros text messaging Pope Francis,” Whitstable replied.

Van Helsing’s own Samsung Galaxy 7 smart phone went off.

“Who is that?” Whitstable asked.

“The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec,” Van Helsing replied.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 20th

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Aztec Vampiress Qonzilqointec Meets Abraham Lincoln

March 19, 2017 at 3:27 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

President Abraham Lincoln stopped when he opened his bedroom door and noticed a beautiful woman standing there.

The President was taken aback.

What would his wife Mary have to say about this?

“Um…” Lincoln decided to be diplomatic, “who are you?”.

“I am the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec,” the woman replied.

“I see,” Lincoln thought the woman must be crazy.

When she suddenly turned into a bat and flew around the room, Lincoln then decided there must be something to the woman’s story.

She turned back into a beautiful woman again.

“What do you want?” Lincoln asked.

“To thank you for opposing the Mexican-American War as a Congressman from Illinois,” she said.

“Well, you’re welcome,” Lincoln smiled.

“And for doing what you can to help Juarez against the French and the Hapsburg Emperor of Mexico Maximilian despite the fact that you’re fighting a civil war of your own,” Qonzilqointec smiled at him.

“Again you’re welcome,” Lincoln bowed.

“It’s that bitch the Egyptian vampiress Isis who’s behind the French Emperor Napoleon III and all his plans for dominating the world,” Qonzilqointec seethed.

“I did not know that,” Lincoln had to admit.

Qonzilqointec smiled, “Did you know that the Transylvanian Count Dracula is a big supporter of Confederate President Jefferson Davis?”.

Lincoln was really taken aback by that last remark.

“That,” the President said, “I definitely did not know.”

“Although,” Qonzilqointec laughed showing her pearly white teeth and incisors, “for the wrong reasons. He had heard that Jefferson Davis is an alumnus of Transylvania University totally oblivious to the fact that the Transylvania University that Jefferson Davis attended is a private university in Lexington Kentucky founded back in 1780.”

“I guess it pays to have a knowledge of history and geography,” Lincoln reflected, “even for vampires.”

“It does,” Qonzilqointec agreed.

“What are you doing here?” Lincoln asked

“I’m here to turn you into a vampire,” Qonzilqointec stepped towards him.

Lincoln stepped back.

“Only if you’d like,” Qonzilqointec stopped her approach, “You’re a great man. It would be a good thing if you could live forever.”

“I have no desire to live the life of a vampiric existence,” said Lincoln.

“Very well,” Qonzilqointec looked sad.

She bowed and left the room.

A few minutes later, Lincoln’s wife Mary Todd Lincoln entered the room.

“I hope you remember we’re going to see that play Our American Cousin at Ford’s Theatre on Friday.” Mary looked stern.

“Yes, dear,” Lincoln nodded, “I remember.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday March 19th

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Waiting For The Flying Dutchman: A Poem

March 18, 2017 at 3:51 pm (Folklore, Ghost Story, Horror, Literature, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

South African Ships At Sea

The old sailor always walked down to the beach on moonlit nights like this
waiting… searching… for the Flying Dutchman…
he had once seen the ghost ship as a boy
caught sight of the Ancient Mariner that stood at the helm
that lonely cursed figure
who stirred the wheel
at the helm of the ship
followed by an albatross.

The old sailor saw six birds tonight
but no albatross
He saw seven ships of various sizes
but no Flying Dutchman

The moon, sea and sky looked ghostly haunting tonight
it would be on a night such as this
that the Flying Dutchman would surely appear again.

The sailor felt a chill at his elbow
He looked up
gazed in the distance
and saw…

“There, there,” he pointed with his finger.

The next morning the old sailor was found dead on the beach
he had made contact with the Flying Dutchman after all.

-A poem written
by Christopher’
March 18th 2017.

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Part II Phantasm: A Gothic Horror Poem

February 8, 2017 at 1:04 pm (Ghost Story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

This is the first part of my gothic horror poem Phantasm:


The opium dens of London’s Chinatown
And Holmes lay on the ground
pursuing the dragon.
For the great detective had lost his heart.
The man immune to the charms of women
had lost his heart…
to a woman.
And what a woman… Anna Li.

They attended concerts together
They attended plays together
They visited museums together
They even danced together.
Yes, Holmes the man immune to passion
had danced.

Then she had said, “Sherlock, I’m sorry but this can’t go on.”
“Can’t go on?” Sherlock asked.
“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” she said, “I don’t love you.”
“Is there another?” Sherlock asked.
Anna was silent.
“There is another,” Sherlock had pointed a finger at her.

Indeed there was another.
Anna Li had been seeing a young English Lord.
Holmes followed them.
The young Lord’s family was against any marriage to Anna Li.
“A most sensible position,” Holmes thought to himself.
But the young Lord and Anna Li were to be married.
They would elope to Gretna Green.
They were to meet in the Estate greenhouse- Holmes listened
to their conversation.
And so Holmes went there.
To the greenhouse that night.
He had opened the greenhouse door and walked in.
Fade to black.

Focus to light- 1888.
Anna Li lay dead on the greenhouse floor.
Dead beneath the box where the red roses grew.
Holmes got up off the floor.
No, the detective thought to himself.
He couldn’t have.
He wouldn’t have.
Had he the solver of crime committed a crime?
Holmes looked down at Anna Li’s body devoid of breath.
And ran out into the night.
Holmes felt it in the air.
A storm was coming.

Fade to black-1924.
Holmes felt his way into the greenhouse and turned the doorknob.
A storm was here.
Focus to light.
Lightning flash.

Katharine Chan stood there.
“Anna?” Holmes approached her.
“I am Katharine,” the young actress replied, “I’m playing Anna in the movie.”
“Is this a trick of yours, Holmes?” The old Lord approached, “Getting Katharine to dress in the actual wedding dress that my beloved Anna wore so many years ago. Is this your way of solving the case you never solved?”.

“No, no,” Holmes looked around, “It wasn’t me. I have nothing whatsoever to do with the dress Miss Chan is wearing at the moment.”
“Then, what are you doing here, Mr. Holmes?” Alfred Hitchcock asked.

“I’ve come to confess… to confess… to confess…” Holmes could not finish the sentence.
“Confess what, Mr. Holmes?” Katharine asked.
Holmes was about to speak again.
When he saw her.

The Ghost of Anna Li

Holmes gazed in horror.
Hitchcock, the English Lord, Katharine, the entire cast and crew followed Holmes’ gaze.
They all gasped.
It was Anna Li.
The ghost of Anna Li.
Wearing a ghostly dress that alternated between the white of 1888 and the yellow of 1924.

She walked towards Sherlock Holmes.

“It’s you, Anna, isn’t it?” Holmes cried,
“This burden has been too much for me.
It was after you died that I started visiting the opium dens.
It was after you died that I started taking a seven per cent solution
… of cocaine.
It wasn’t boredom I was trying to alleviate.
It was the memory of that night.
The night I came to the greenhouse
The night I came to stop your elopement
The night I stepped through the greenhouse door.
The night everything… faded to black.
The night when I came to, you lay dead on the floor…”

“What?” The Lord’s face turned ashen white,
“You were there that night, you bastard.
No wonder you never solved the case.
You murderous bastard…”

Anna Li’s ghost continued to approach Sherlock Holmes.
So close that Holmes could see the reflection in her eyes.
“It is me reflecting in your eyes, isn’t it, Anna?”
Holmes cried,
“The reflection of your murderer.”

Holmes looked into her eyes.
And gasped when he saw the reflection.
The reflection of her murderer.

Another memory came back to Sherlock Holmes.
A memory so shocking
that Holmes had suppressed it until now

Reichenbach Falls, May 4th 1891
“It appears we shall die together, Mr. Holmes,”
Moriarty laughed.
“It appears so, Moriarty,”
Holmes calmly replied.
“But I can’t have us both dying
without letting you know,”
Moriarty laughed again,
“It was I who killed the one you loved.”
“The one I loved?” Holmes looked quizzical.
“The night in the greenhouse, Mr. Holmes,”
Moriarty’s laugh became more and more hysterical,
“The night I strangled your love Anna Li.
I knew all about you and her.
How you had gone to stop her elopement.
But I got there before you.
I strangled her.
Then I saw you approaching.
I knocked you out.
Then dragged your unconscious body next to hers
so when you awoke, you’d think you killed her.
Knowing this would make your life a living Hell,
Mr. Holmes.
Your punishment for being a constant thorn in my side.”

Enraged, Holmes broke loose from Moriarty’s grip
and threw the evil Moriarty downwards to his death
over the Falls.
“For Anna,” Holmes said before he fell to the ground.
Fade to black.

“I did kill Anna,” Holmes whispered
as Anna Li’s ghost vanished
and the storm stopped,
“I killed her by loving her.
And Moriarty killed her
because I loved her.”

And with that, Holmes’ focus to light
was a fade to black.

-A gothic horror poem
written by Christopher
Friday February 3rd

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Phantasm: A Gothic Horror Poem

February 6, 2017 at 1:27 pm (Ghost Story, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

It was during the time before
Alfred Hitchcock the man
became Alfred Hitchcock the legend
A young British filmmaker recently returned from Germany
where he had studied under some of the greatest masters
of German Expressionist silent cinema
He was commissioned by an English Lord
to direct a film
based on an actual crime committed in 1888
and no this crime wasn’t the famous Ripper murders of that year

Fade to 1888:
The English lord who had commissioned Hitchcock to direct the film
was then a young man
A young English gentleman who had fallen in love
with a young Chinese woman Anna Li
and like Poe’s Annabel Li and her smitten admirer
Their love was doomed.

For the young Lord’s family was not having him
marry an Asian woman
but he refused to follow his family’s bidding
Even when his father threatened to disinherit him
the young man didn’t care

They would elope
flee to Gretna Green in Scotland
to be married by the blacksmith there
They were to meet in one of the Estate greenhouses
She in her wedding dress
and he in his best suit
and they would hire a carriage to drive them
to the Scottish border town

Focus to 1924.
Hitchcock was in the Lord’s Estate greenhouse
The one where the Lord as a young man
was to meet the beautiful Anna Li
The young director set up his cameras
The lighting
and then called the young woman
who’d be playing Anna Li into the greenhouse

Fade to 1888.
Anna Li waited in the greenhouse.
Her dress a sparkling shiny white
The door to the greenhouse opened.
Anna turned. Eyes wide with anticipation.
Expecting the young English Lord.
But it wasn’t he.

Arms and fingers seized the young Anna Li’s throat.
And choked the life out of her.
She lay at the foot of the box
where the red roses grew.
And that’s where the young Lord found her.

Focus to 1924.
The sparkling shiny white dress fades to yellow.
“I called for a white dress,”
young director Alfred screamed.
The dress the young actress Katharine Chan
(who was to play Anna Li in the film)
wore was faded yellow.
“It’s the same dress,” the (now old) English Lord gasped
“What?” Alfred looked at the English Lord.
“The very same dress Anna wore the night she was murdered.
I’d recognize it anywhere. It has now faded to yellow
but it’s the same dress.”

“What kind of sick joke is the costume department playing?”
Alfred screamed, “Bring a real white wedding dress not this…”
“It was evidence,” said the old Lord, “Evidence as part of the
criminal investigation. It was in the possession of Scotland Yard.
How did it get here?”

Lightning flashed.
The greenhouse went black.
“Oh great, now the power is out,”
Alfred threw up his hands,
“Okay, let’s call it a day. Or rather a night, people.”
Lightning flashed again.
And a man’s face could be seen at the greenhouse door.
Katharine Chan screamed.

“Who is that?” asked an exasperated Alfred Hitchcock.
“It’s the detective Scotland Yard brought in to help solve the case,”
the old Lord recognized the face.
Lightning flash.
And the man’s face could be seen again.
“And did he solve the case?” Alfred asked.
“No,” the old Lord shook his head bitterly, “he did not.”
“Who is he?” one of the cameramen asked.
Lightning flash.
The man’s face is seen again.
“Sherlock Holmes,” said the old Lord.
Lightning flash.
A deerstalker cap and a pipe can be clearly seen.

“There was a case that Sherlock Holmes never solved?” one of the lightning technicians asked.
Lightning flash again.
Disappointment showed on the face of the man in the deerstalker cap.

To be continued.

-A gothic horror poem
written by Christopher
Friday February 3rd

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Memories of Yesterday and Today

February 5, 2017 at 4:51 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, History, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

Beth went running into her father’s study to give him a hug.

She stopped in her tracks.

There standing alongside her father was a man wearing a uniform.

The uniform had a very unusual insignia. On the shoulder was a patch showing a red background, a white circle and to her young mind the image of a twisted black letter X or Z with hands seemingly going in different directions.

From the demeanor of both men, it looked like her father and the man in the uniform had been heatedly arguing.

Her father looked at Beth.

“Beth,” her father cleared his throat, “I think you better go back to the playroom and play with your sister Maggie. I’ll drop by to see you later.”

Beth hurriedly left the study and shut the door behind her.

She ran past the calendar which marked today’s date February 2nd 1937.

. . .

So long ago, Beth reflected as she watched the television alongside her great-grandson.

Yet for some reason, she always remembered that day as if it were yesterday.

And she always remembered vividly the man who had been arguing with her father.

She had never seen him before. Or ever again. She had no idea who he was.

Only that he was the representative of a foreign government who had come to see her father.

She also remembered that he had a very distinct scar on his right hand. A scar that in her young mind at the time looked like two suns wrestling with one another. A light sun and a dark sun.

Beth watched her great-grandson happily play with building blocks. She glanced over at the television which was showing speeches in the European Parliament on the refugee crisis facing Europe.

She looked at the MEP who was currently speaking. An MEP who was anti-immigrant.

Beth gasped. He was the spitting image of the man her father had been heatedly arguing with 80 years earlier.

She looked at him. But of course he couldn’t be the same man. Maybe a relative. Grandson perhaps? Great-grandson?

The man raised his right hand in the air. The TV camera panned in on the right hand.

The scar. The very same scar. Two suns wrestling with one another. A light sun and a dark sun.

It WAS the same man, Beth gasped. But how was that possible? she wondered. She was a child when she last saw him. And now she was a great-grandmother. And the man didn’t look like he had aged a day.

And Queen Elizabeth II, daughter of Britain’s King George VI and great-grandmother to the young Prince George currently playing with blocks, shivered when she saw the man gazing directly into the camera- a gaze that seemed to peer directly from the TV screen out into the very room in which she was sitting. A gaze full of hatred.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 2nd

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Sherrielock Holmes Reflects On The Vampiress Showdown At Sundown

December 20, 2016 at 5:14 pm (Ghost Story, Humour, Romance, The Supernatural, western) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Sherrielock Holmes Reflects On The Vampiress Showdown At Sundown

Things quieted down in Hayden, Colorado after the Aztec gold was dug up and stolen by a group of marauding Mormons who took it to Utah with them.

This later gave American forensic geologist Scott Wolter something to do for his early 21st Century TV show America Unearthed.

Since there was no longer any reason to stay in Hayden, Isis flew back to Paris by way of New York and Qonzilqointec returned to Mexico City by way of San Francisco.

“At last, peace and quiet,” Sherrielock sighed to herself as she lay in bed.

She might finally be able to get to sleep at night.

-A western vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 28th

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Qonzilqointec vs. Isis: The Vampiress Showdown At Sundown

December 19, 2016 at 4:20 pm (Ghost Story, Humour, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Qonzilqointec vs. Isis: The Vampiress Showdown At Sundown

The Egyptian vampiress Isis was none too pleased that one of the gold bars her archaeologist found had been stolen by the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec (although Qonzilqointec claimed Aztec reclamation).

“This means war,” Isis seethed.

It wasn’t long before the showdown.

As Howard Cosell might have called it had he been alive at the time, The Showdown After Sundown.

Dressed in elaborate Parisienne and Madrid made evening gowns with holsters tied around their waists, they stood (in spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes) facing one another.

Inside each holster was a hawthorne wooden stake- guaranteed to kill the Undead dead.

Or so the sign read down at Van Helsing’s Lumber Yard in town.

Both Isis and Qonzilqointec had purchased their stakes without bothering to ask if there was a money back guarantee.

The town’s sheriff called out, “Draw.”

Each vampiress quickly pulled the stake out of their respective holsters and threw it at the other.

Qonzilqointec’s stake hit and broke Isis’ right vampiric incisor tooth.

“Oh Great God Ra, that’s going to cost me a fortune in dental work,” Isis moaned.

The town dentist stood rubbing his hands in glee.

Isis’ stake hit and struck Qonzilqointec’s left breast.

“Oh great Quetzalcoatl, it’s going to cost me a fortune to get that scar removed,” Qonzilqointec moaned.

The town doctor (who had a breast fetish) stood rubbing his hands in glee.

Belvedere who was busy eating a heavily garlic laced onion soup noticed that the two vampiresses were keeping away from him (of course so was everyone else for that matter).

-A western vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 28th

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Qonzilqointec Confronts French Archaeologist Pompidou De Gaulle

December 17, 2016 at 2:27 pm (Ghost Story, Humour, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Qonzilqointec Confronts French Archaeologist Pompidou De Gaulle

“This gold bar has the seal of Montezuma on it,” French archaeologist Pompidou De Gaulle pointed out to Belvedere.

“It doesn’t look like a seal from pictures I’ve seen of them,” Belvedere looked puzzled, “I thought a seal kind of looked like an otter sorta.”

“You’re thinking of those sea mammals that eat fish and bark a lot,” De Gaulle glared at Belvedere, “A seal in this case refers to a special symbol used to represent the authority of the Aztec Emperor Montezuma.”

“I’ll take that gold bar if you don’t mind, Dr. Pompidou De Gaulle,” the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec entered the saloon wearing a gold evening dress, “after all, it belongs to my people.”

“Your people?” Dr. Pompidou De Gaulle was astonished.

“The Aztecs,” she smiled her vampiric incisors at the Frenchman, “Do you know what we did to our sacrificial victims?”.

“Didn’t you tear their living still beating hearts out of their chests and eat them?” Dr. De Gaulle gulped.

“Yes,” she stepped closer to the archaeologist.

“I don’t think Miss Sherrielock appreciates blood on the saloon floor unless it’s in the dominatrix whipping dungeon downstairs,” Belvedere spoke up, “You’re going to have to step outside.”

Dr. Pompidou De Gaulle ran out the door.

Qonzilqointec turned into a bat and followed him out the door.

“I’m going to have to cut down on eating the chef’s wild mushroom soup special,” Belvedere remarked upon seeing the vampiress’ transformation from sexy human to winged flying mammal.

-A western vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday July 28th

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Qonzilqointec, Isis and The Lost Aztec Gold of Hayden, Colorado

December 16, 2016 at 4:41 pm (Ghost Story, Humour, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel, western) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Qonzilqointec, Isis and The Lost Aztec Gold of Hayden, Colorado

Pompidou De Gaulle was a French archaeologist. He had been hired by the Egyptian Vampiress Isis to discover the location where the Aztecs might have buried their gold after fleeing Mexico following Hernan Cortez’s conquest of Montezuma’s Empire.

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec on the other hand was the woman who injected the poison she called Montezuma’s Revenge into the water supply of Mexico which affected only non-Mexican visitors to the land the Aztecs once ruled.

Several centuries later, Qonzilqointec would inject the same poison (Montezuma’s Revenge) into the drinking water at the 2016 Republican Convention in Cleveland, Ohio. She added to the mischief and mayhem by building miniature walls around the washrooms and getting the delegates to pay for them (they had to pay to enter).

Such was the situation looming in the town of Hayden, Colorado in the year 1880- a point in time between Cortez”s conquest of Mexico in 1519 and the Republican National Convention in Cleveland in 2016.

-A western vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 26th

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