Hudson Valley Halloween Horror
Vincent: I’m afraid, cousin Jenny, that cousin Floyd will be unable to dine with us this evening.
Jenny: Why ever not?
Vincent: He had the misfortune of being eaten by a black jaguar in the woods last night.
Jenny: A black jaguar in the Hudson River Valley?
Vincent: No doubt the poor creature was a long ways from home. Which may explain why not much was left of Floyd when he was found. Only his right ear and the thumb on his left hand which was tattooed with a drawing of Napoleon. How they were able to identify him.
Jenny: How positively awful.
Vincent: I’ll say. He owed me $100. Money that I suppose now will never be repaid.
Jenny: What was he doing walking in the woods?
Vincent: No one is sure. The only thing known for sure is that he was wearing a pink nightgown while walking in the woods.
Jenny: So that’s why they called him Pink Floyd.
Vincent: Undoubtedly.
Jenny: Whatever happened to that nutty woman they found walking in the woods last week?
Vincent: The one who claimed to have come from the year 2021 and believed herself to be a female Christ saying if people vaccinated themselves, they were Apostles of her love.
“That’s the one,” Jenny nodded.
“I had her burnt at the stake as a witch,” Vincent answered.
“Burnt at the stake?” Jenny was shocked.
“Yes, there was some old wood I was wanting to get rid of,” Vincent nodded, “so I killed two birds with one stone.”
A pair of large black ravens fell from the sky.
“She was a witch?” Jenny turned pale.
“Yes the demons Moloch, Baal and Baphomet visited her room at the village inn,” Vincent explained, “where they jabbed the innkeeper’s daughter with a needle and she died.”
“Awful,” Jenny shook her head.
“There is much evil in the land,” Vincent noted just as the clock was 5 minutes shy of twelve, “Darkness falls across the land, the midnight hour is close at hand and whosoever shall be found without the soul for getting down must stand and face the hounds of Hell and rot inside a corpse’s shell.”
“There’s a three headed dog out there,” Jenny gasped as she looked out the window.
“That would be Cerberus,” Vincent explained.
Vincent went over to his sitting room book shelf and grabbed a volume of ancient Koine Greek and looked up the words for “Sit” and “Good boy”.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday October 5th
2021.
Morganella Pendragon
Near the mists of Avalon
The animals gathered
A highflying eagle
And friendly wolves
In these times
Only the animal kingdom
Has friendly wolves
The human kingdom
Is full of demonic wolf spirits
Particularly those inhabiting
The walls of the Vatican
Elon Musk’s artificial moon looked
Perfectly natural
In this Glastonbury atmosphere
And on this night
Protected by her wolf companions
And watched over by her highflying eagle
Morganella Pendragon
Immortal great-niece of the enchantress Morgan
Stood with cross-bow in hand
She had been taught the art of cross-bow
By Chiron the Centaur
And Cernunnos the Celtic stag god
There were very few cross-bow archers
Better than she
And now she would use her cross-bow
To slay
Those hordes of zombie nosferatu
Who had arisen
In this England’s green and pleasant land
Where the heels of devils walk
On England’s mountains green
And devilish countenance on
England’s once pleasant pastures seen.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday January 16th
2020
Faustina
Faustina with her cat Lenore Belle Noir in front of the fireplace in her room in Vienna
Flames in the fireplace
Flames that burn
Like thousands of tiny suns
Sending out a cosmic glow
Across the universe
Sending out heat
And ripple effects
Those flames so like her memories
That burn and scorch her mind
In the neverending passages of time
When will her memories become
Like the blackened embers
That sit below the base
of the fire
Becoming galactic black holes
That never emit any light
And become darkness
And a huge void of nothingness
That brings relief
To neverending pain.
Faustina had dressed like she was going to a ball
A cascading symphony of Strauss Waltzes
Dancing in a joyous celebration
Of the Blue Danube
and the Vienna Woods
But there were no Viennese waltzes
And grand balls happening
In this time of Covid
For the Covid virus did decree
like Kubla Khan
At those now forgotten gates of Xanadu
But its decree differered
From that cultured Emperor
For it decreed
And health and political authorities assented
That henceforth
Humans must only exist
And not live
They must no longer interact
No song, dinner or dance
They must cover half their face
With a mask
For if the image of God
Could not be erased from humanity
Then it must at least be distorted
Or cut in half
It is for your own good they tell us,
Faustina thought,
But did not despots throughout history
Always say the same?
On this night
Faustina wore a beautiful white silvery
Evening dress
And necklace
Imagining she’d meet a handsome prince
Or duke or count
But instead her only true friend
Her cat
Lenore Belle Noire
Sat on the train
Of her dress
As the pair
Listened to Strauss waltzes
On the old Gramophone
Lenore Belle Noir
Looked at her mistress
Trying to emit the power of healing
Through her kind and compassionate eyes
To heal her mistress’ tortured soul
For Faustina was the daughter
Of Johann Georg Faust (1480-1541)
Known to history as Faust
If one liked Goethe
Or Doctor Faustus
If one preferred
Christopher Marlowe
Her mother was Hecate
Greek goddess of witchcraft
Who had fallen hopelessly
In love
With that dark tortured soul
Faust
He who had sold his soul
To Mephistopheles
They had made love in the 1580s
And at midnight on the evening of
August 7th to 8th 1588
The night Francis Drake
Defeated the Spanish Armada
Faustina had been born
Born to Hecate
Born to Faust
Born to immortality
For that had been the curse
Inherited from her parents
For immortality for her
Had been a curse
And not a blessing
So many memories
So many painful memories
How long would they burn
In her mind
Like the flames in the fireplace?
How long before they finally
Turn into glowing embers
And at last mercifully into darkened ash?
The sound of the clock
Ticking on the wall
Provided no answer
Would that it did
Would that it did
Tick tock! Tick tock!
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday November 19th
2020.
Reblog of Ghost Ship: The Flying Dutchman Sails On and On
A supernatural narrative poem and vampire novel chapter I wrote over a year and 3 months ago:
On a moonlit night the sky’s spotlight
casts its rays down on tonight’s performer
a sailing ship rising out of the mist
in a globe theatre where sea and sky do meet
From underneath the water Poseidon’s hand
seems to rise from below the depths
lifting the old Dutchman like a pearl of great price
as an offering and a gift to Diana’s lantern in the night sky
Oh ship of mighty oak and sturdy deck and towering masts
what a price thou hast paid
for having for a master one Captain Hendrick Van der Decken
He who would make league and sup with the Devil
to have the fastest ship that would sail to the East Indies and back
And so there at the Cape of Good Hope
ship, master and crew would lose all hope
as Captain Hendrick stood on deck at the wheel
and cursed the wind…
View original post 673 more words
The House On The Hill: A Poem
The house on the hill was haunted they say
That common belief helped keep people away
Only the brave ventured to play
At the house overlooking Appleton Way
What happened that night many years ago
whispered by people who claimed to know
was loud shots in the night
a desperate search for a light
A woman’s screams
Lace curtains falling at the seams
And then silence fell
No more would dwell
in that house on the hill
Tenancy rate fell to nil
Those who ventured inside that place above Appleton Way
would always return with their hair white or gray
even though their hair colour did not start out that way
when they ventured forth at the break of the day
Their mistake was not in returning before the sun set
Nightfall should have told them, this was no place to let
Visiting the place subject of many a bet
while dark mystery remains at the heart of the Net
It was with this in mind that young Rousseau set out
On a night when the wind was howling about
Dark clouds rolled in
The night blacker than sin
Lightning flashed
Thunder crashed
And of course the door of the house would naturally be opened wide
And Rousseau stepped across the threshold to where the unseen did abide
And Rousseau came face to face with the ghostly vision there
While rainy lightning in the window flashed glowing white glare
Rousseau’s thought then was different from what he had at the start of the day
With this supernatural life and supernatural sight he felt inclined to stay
So now he too inhabits the house above Appleton Way.
-A poem written by Christopher
Tuesday May 21st 2019.
Cardi B. and The Time Traveller: A Poem
Singer Cardi B. flees Lancaster Hall in England in 1888 leaving behind a giant sized shoe.
“So you really expect me to believe you’re a time traveller from the year 2019?” Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes asked somewhat skeptically.
“Whether you believe it or not, it is true,” replied Dracul Van Helsing who had recently seen Achilles slay his enemy in a manner most Hectorly.
“I have worked on stranger cases,” Holmes admitted.
He looked at Dracul wondering if he should have him committed.
“And what do you mean by a hip hop singer?” Holmes looked as though he’d been through the ringer.
“Do not worry about musical terms from the future,” said Dracul, “rather worry about Cardi B. whom Vampiress Lilith wants to goose her.”
“May I ask why?” Holmes looked up at the dark sky.
“It has to do with Solomon and the Queen of Sheba,” Dracul stated in the midst of an atmospheric upheava.
Holmes looked confused, the coachman looked bemused and the estate cat looked amused.
“It has to do with Cardi B.’s real name,” Dracul played with an open window pane.
“Which is,” Van Helsing went on, “Belcalls Almanzar. Watch out for that falling star…
Holmes quickly jumped out of the way.
And the star landed in some hay.
Much to a hungry horse’s dismay.
His dinner went up in a blaze of smoke.
All that’s left- a solitary artichoke.
The horse ate the artichoke as Dracul continued his story,
“Lilith’s dealings with Solomon- somewhat gory…”
“But what does this have to do with Cardi B.?” Holmes lit his pipe under a tree.
“Her real name,” a soft breeze came, “Belcalls refers to the Queen of Sheba and Almanzar means watchtower. Watch that flower..”
Holmes avoided stepping on the Lancaster Hall estate’s red rose as the cat pranced about on tippy toes.
“So Lilith thinks Cardi B. is the watchtower of the Queen of Sheba,” Dracul went on, “so vampiress wreaks vengeance on Solomon by killing this singing diva.”
A scream went through the air as the terror that flies by night lost her shoes while Sherlock looked in the garden for more clues.
Cardi ran off after the terror by night while Lilith’s shoe glittered in the lamplight.
The next day, Cardi rode a white horse into the countryside
where horse and rider gave each other quite the ride.
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 7th
2019.
The Eve of Saint Agnes 2019: Night of The Super Wolf Blood Moon: A Poem
Madeleine undressing, The Eve of St. Agnes painted by John Everett Millais circa 1863 based on John Keats’ 1819 poem The Eve of St. Agnes
‘Twas the Eve of Saint Agnes
and in a Baphomet worshipping Jesuit chapel
in Washington DC
Strange creatures were stirring
led by an Illuminati banker Lord L of London
who was wearing a mask of Poe’s The Raven
The Greco-Egyptian gnostic goddess Sophia was dressed
as a statue of her mother Pallas Athena
But wasn’t allowing Lord L to sit on her head
The demons Baal and Baphomet sat atop Pope Francis style witches’ Stang style Crucifixes awaiting sacrifices to them
Two victims- a 12-year-old girl named Agnes who would be sacrificed to Baal who thrived on child sacrifices
And a 50-year-old Welsh werewolf Magog Rhys Petley (former British Labour MP) securely bound (as it was the night of a full moon) who would be sacrificed to Baphomet the half-human half-goat half-male half-female entity (who was Sophia’s son/daughter)
Performing the sacrifice would be Semiramis the former Queen of Babylon
Seeing as how Saint Agnes’ symbol was the lamb
and Magog Rhys Petley’s symbol was the wolf
The group was giving a perverted twist to Isaiah’s prophecy about the wolf shall lie down with the lamb
Semiramis wearing a long red dress raised the knife
when the full moon turned blood red
ready to bring it down on both
when the blood red moon turned to darkness
Just then the door of the chapel opened
And two creatures entered
One was a white wolf with blue eyes
He strolled on the right down the center of the chapel
The other was a black jaguar with silver eyes
He strolled down the left of the chapel
They went and stood on either side of Semiramis
Lord L blinked behind his raven mask
He didn’t recall this being part of the script
A tall blonde man wearing a fedora hat and Philip Marlowe
style private eye trench coat entered the chapel
Wearing a cross bow on his back
Standing at the front of the chapel
he removed a cross bow and poisoned arrow and fired at Lord L
“Shit, I am slain” Lord L remarked before falling over subsequently dead
“A Lenny Bruce style Nixon White House style epithet added to Polonius’ last words spoken in the play Hamlet” the crossbow slayer who was Dracul Van Helsing remarked.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec had arrived on the scene
and had tied up and bound Semiramis the Queen of Babylon
“Wow, my Anne Rice A. N. Roquelaure Sleeping Beauty BDSM fantasies are coming true,” Dracul remarked upon seeing this
Renfield R. Renfield let fire with a water cannon
with Holy Water blessed by the former Pope Benedict XVI
At the demons Baal and Baphomet
sending them shrieking outside the chapel
Soon the spectators fled
including a Democratic Congresswoman from California
and a Democratic Senator from New York
who were dressed as the couple
in the 1930 Grant Wood painting American Gothic
Semiramis before succumbing to a massive tantric orgasm
Brought about by the excitement of the ropes and the handcuffs
touching her skin
Thought she recognized Dracul Van Helsing
“He must be a time traveller,” Semiramis thought to herself,
“He’s the spitting image of the man who rescued me from the hands of Jack the Ripper in London in the autumn of 1888.”
Semiramis in the arms of Jack the Ripper as a raven watches
and before a white wolf and a black jaguar and a vampire slayer spring in for the attack
The Clock of Thoth: A Poem
Tefna listening to the sound of the Clock of Thoth tick.
The young woman called Tefna
was in her apartment bedroom
listening to the sound of
the Clock of Thoth tick
A clock designed by her father
A master clock maker
At the stroke and bong of each hour
Two figures would come out
The first was Thoth
The ibis headed ancient Egyptian god
Of the moon, magic and writing
And of course the Egyptian god who
was the recorder of time
The other figure was an Egyptian Pharaoh
who bore the likeness of the young
Actor/Director Orson Welles
The year was 1945
The date was August 6th
Feast of the Transfiguration
On the Church calendar
When Christ showed his Divine Deity
To his Apostles Peter, James and John
Tefna awaited news on what would become of her fiance
a sailor in the U.S. Navy still involved in the War In The Pacific
against Japan
Thor’s lightning bolt insigna warriors in Germany
had surrendered months earlier
but no word yet on those who fought for the ancient gods of Japan
A young American scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer
was seeking to become the Hindu god Shiva
The destroyer and transformer of worlds
But Tefna was unaware of him and his plans
And what they could possibly mean for her
As she listened to the ticking of the Clock of Thoth
On the wall
Tick-tock! Tick-tock!
As she always did at this same time every night
Before she went to bed
In the apartment next door
Hera the divine goddess queen of the Olympians
awaited the report of an immortal private eye
Carson Cody Albion
The Greek goddess Hera- that’s Juno to the ancient Romans!
She had suspected her husband Zeus
was getting it on with the modern goddesses
of the silver screen in Hollywood
The fact that she had heard him talking on the phone
seeking to borrow swan and bull costumes
from studio costume departments
only added to her suspicions.
In the apartment on the other side of Tefna
sat Hestia the Greek goddess of hearth and home
Hestia suspected that hearth and home would come to be neglected in America following the war
As both men and women followed Mammon
the ancient Babylonian god of banking and commerce
Who had helped America defeat Thor’s modern worshippers
All these things were unfolding in the building around Tefna
As she listened to the sound of the Clock of Thoth
tick on the wall
Tick-tock! Tick-tock! went the Clock of Thoth on the wall
As Tefna listened.
The Greek goddess Athena was there in black and white
on the silver screen
in the old repertory movie theatre
in West Hollywood
on January 14th
when Dracul Van Helsing
entered the theatre
and entered the screen
and then entered Athena
to sample hidden portals of wisdom
In the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London
Dashwood Forrest looked at the painting
of Demeter
The Greek goddess of fields, crops and agriculture
looking down on a field of 19th Century French peasant women
Bringing in the sheaves for harvest
Looking at the painting
Dashwood Forrest was shocked to see and hear
Demeter speak to the French women,
What sort of powerful magician could seduce my Persephone
away from her husband
As Athena found tantric sex to be a tantalizing experience
On the silver screen in a West Hollywood repertory theatre
actress Akira Lane was showing a robotics maker
fresh from a technology show in Las Vegas
what wonders old technology could do
when blended with ancient magic
As an Irish Jewish science-fiction writer
George Finneganburg
hastily took notes
Meanwhile in a London casino
Former British Labour MP
The Welsh werewolf Magog Rhys Petley
(whose seat was now held by
British Transhumanist MP
Welsh vampiress Morgana)
walked in on an unexpected orgy
taking place on a casino table
The casino’s kinky quartet looked at him, smiled
and advised him not to miss Lord L’s
Super Wolf Blood Moon Party
in Washington DC
next Sunday night
with the brunette in short skirt and black silk fishnet pantyhose
Sitting atop the casino table
telling him not to miss it for the world
Renfield R. Renfield MP
had just finished writing his speech to move
a motion of non-confidence in Theresa May’s government
following the Brexit vote in the Westminster Parliament tomorrow
When suddenly he walked out into his Parliamentary office
waiting room
Where the Vietnamese vampiress Ho Babylon Minh
was waiting for him
Causing Renfield to burst the zipper on his trousers
When he saw her
He would have to buy himself a new suit
to deliver the speech in Parliament tomorrow
It was a moonlit night in Port Elizabeth South Africa
As the great South African artist SAREJESS
sat in the middle of the street with his easel and canvas
and paintbrush and paints
(praying that no motorists would be driving down the street this late at night to abruptly and undoubtedly painfully put an end to his lunar nocturnal painting expedition)
and painted what he saw
He would paint this quiet tranquil scene
before the ghost of a brontosaurus showed up
and walked across the street
And before the ghost ship of THE ghost ship
The Flying Dutchman
appeared on the surface of the water
on the horizon in the distance
As he sat there painting the canvas,
he wondered whether his wife and family were right
to think he was crazy
And there at one moment in time
somewhere in time
sat Tefna
always anxiously sitting on the bed
always anxiously awaiting for the phone to ring
to bring her news of her love
Same place
Same time
Night after night
but no sound of a phone ringing
Only the sound of the Clock of Thoth ticking
Tick-tock! Tick-tock!
-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday January 14th
2019.
Changes In Latitudes, Changes In Attitudes: A Gothic Mythological Private Eye Poem
All of the faces and all of the places
Wonderin’ where they all disappeared…
It’s those changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
Nothing remains quite the same
With all of our running and all of our cunning
If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane
Those changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes…
Through all of the islands and all of the highlands
If we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.
-Jimmy Buffett, August 1977.
The water nymph Ondine in a pre-Raphaelite painting
that Carson Cody Albion Private Eye gazed at on a wall
An immortal made immortal in stroke of brush and mixture on palette
And now he Carson Cody Albion who had been made immortal by Atargatis
Atargatis
would he too someday be immortalized in stroke of brush and mixture of palette
An immortal beyond time and space
captured on canvas in frame occupying a place on a wall
captured in paint by a particular person at a particular time and place
was this why infinity turned in on itself and formed a pair of loops
intersecting at a particular point in time and space?
And what of his painting?
Albion wondered to himself
Could his own sins and transgressions be transferred to his painted visage
As happened to Oscar Wilde’s hero of one Dorian Gray
in the Victorian dandy’s tale of gothic philosophical fiction?
In the same place California but at a different time over 75 years later
Dracul Van Helsing stumbled upon the aftermath of a child sacrifice to Baphomet
presided over by the state’s governor in an act of officially consecrating the state to the demons Baal and Baphomet
As moonbeams danced and sunflowers turned brown in the darkness of night and the crescent of a moon and the bloodbath following a baby’s screams at the hands of a World War II jerry’s insigniaed knife
Baphometa the daughter of Baphomet emerged
clutching her shoulder as if clutching a bloody wound
that was the sole remaining wound of the last vestige of whatever innocence she might have possessed
prior to participating in her first child sacrifice
Oh even daughters of demons stand wounded
when suddenly they come face to face with the dark side of their nature
when given their pedigree, surely the dark side was theirs by nature
but alas even for daughters of demons, darkness embraced and innocence lost
was not and should not be the lot of any of creation
since that dreaded day when the Light-Bearer ascended and became the Bearer of Darkness
An ascent that descended so rapidly
A light that burned so impenetrably it became the blackest of all darkness
Dracul rushed to embrace the distraught Baphometa
Leaving one to wonder could kindness and consolation drive the darkest darkness away?
Back 75 years, the real Ondine stood in front of Carson Cody Albion
Her hair colour had changed since the Pre-Raphaelite artist
had painted her picture in England in the 19th Century
Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
What a change that can bring
Switch the time, switch the place
Switch the hair
By a stream of water, the hero in the Pre-Raphaelite painting
had lost the water nymph Ondine
By a fountain of water, Carson Cody Albion had found her
Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
Even H2O wasn’t the same everywhere
as ice and snow fell into the ocean
Below the cascading castles of clouds
Against a snowy backdrop, the Byzantine vampiress Theodora
stood with her two mastiffs in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania
Facing Interpol agent Peter Whitstable
Whitstable had heard the urban myths and legends and tales of mysterious black eyed children
and now he stood face to face with black eyed dogs
And they stood staring at him
If eyes be the mirror of the soul, then souls these two black eyed mastiffs did not have
But fortunately for Whitstable, he was not their target
The Russian Orthodox monk behind him was
Sent by Patriarch Kirill of Moscow
As an emissary to the Romanian Orthodox Church
to advise them to break communion with Constantinople
But such was not Theodora’s plan
And foolish mortals should not interfere with the best laid plans of vampiresses
Particularly one with black eyed mastiffs at her beck and call
Changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
From the mountain heights of Romania to the desert sands of Arabia
The Countess Draculina daughter of Count Dracula
strolling by the stream of the oasis palace of
Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman
And she saw the Prince walk by
Book in hand
But the book he carried was not the Quran
But the Zohar
Most pre-eminent text in the Kabbalah
Tantric sex with Baphometa was called for
As Marvin Gaye sang Sexual Healing in the background
Dracul Van Helsing healed her
And Persephone the Queen of the Underworld waited for Dracul at sunset
at an Episcopal monastery in Santa Barbara
From the depths of Hades her husband’s realm
To the heights of Santa Barbara
Definitely changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes
As Dracul and the Queen of the Underworld had tantric sex
And the Canadian vampire hunter made a cuckold of Zeus’ infernal brother
A pomegranate was crushed beneath the feet of the pair
And Persephone laughed, “Oh, Dracul,
if we couldn’t laugh, we would all go insane.”
-A vampire novel chapter
and gothic mythological
private eye poem
written by Christopher
Saturday January 12th
2019.
Cthulhu and Goat Krampus On The Feast of Stephen: A Gothic Cyberhorror Carol
(to be sung to the tune of Good King Wenceslas the 1853 Christmastide carol written by John Mason Neale)
Cthulhu and goat Krampus on the Feast of Stephen
Donald Trump destroyed young girl’s belief in Santa dreamin’
Now Saint Nick’s dark sidekick will to Trump be cruel
And make minced meat out of the toupee wearing fool
Krampus now coming for Donald Trump
Donald Trump will wreck dreams and dreamers in effort to build a wall
to make up for the fact that his dick is really small
Into the demon goat’s bag went he with his tweets a’screamin’
he’ll be taken to a real hot place where all the walls are steamin’
No hope of escape for him you see
Francis wrong and right is Dante
while Hillary switches her broomstick for a donkey
As for Cthulhu that Great Old One, he fell in love with Riana
Indonesian ghost magician who performed for Cowell’s talent panorama
Now her country came under atack by that old Anak Krakatoa
A tsunami created when that old Anakim giant’s volcano overfloweth
Now Cthulhu is really pissed and cannot stand it much longer
He will wrestle with that anakim to see which one is stronger
Cthulhu will do battle with that evil offspring of Nephilim the Anak Krakatau in vengeance for the deaths of the Sacred Riana’s countrymen and women
So Donald Trump now roasts in Hell as old Cerberus rings a bell
and Pavlov drools expecting food in that place where dead do dwell
Hades’ realm has grown quite swell as its global warming times excel
Sacred Riana waits with her ghosts possessing
to see which giant will wind up as salad dressing
The Sacred Riana awaits the outcome of the battle between Cthulhu and the Anak Krakatau
-A Gothic Cyberhorror Carol,
Supernatural Narrative Poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
On The Feast of Stephen
Wednesday December 26th
2018.
Dracul Van Helsing 
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