Roast Basilisk In Hell’s Kitchen

April 19, 2019 at 10:43 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec and Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing flying the winged horse Pegasus had won the showdown in the Libyan desert with the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone and his rider the dark arts practicing Jesuit priest Father Caiaphas bar Yochai this past Wednesday.

The ghost of Howard Cosell had been on the scene doing commentary for the underworld based Baphomet Broadcasting Network until he succumbed to spectral laryngitis.

Qonzilqointec had doused the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone with Odour of Weasel Perfume sending the genetically recreated satanic beast plunging to its death in the desert sands.

The evil Jesuit Father Caiaphas bar Yochai had survived the fall due to the combination of basilisk venom and extra strong Starbucks dark roasted coffee he had imbibed prior to combat.

The evil priest was not to get off scott free however for Dracul Van Helsing had used the Sword of Saint George to stab the Baphomet worshipping cleric in his phallus.

After Dwayne the Rock Johnson arrived on the scene to declare Qonzilqointec and Dracul the winners, the couple flew off to the Queen Cleopatra Hotel in Alexandria where they spent an evening of tantric sex together.

Star Wars Star Troopers had arrived from Set Enterprises in London to return the basilisk’s body to Britain.

Father Caiaphas bar Yochai managed to catch an Uber ride with an Islamic State terrorist to Paris, France.

There the now swordless Jesuit looked up the ancient Egyptian vampiress Isis since she had previous experience in creating wooden phalluses having created one for her husband Osiris since that was the one part of his 14 missing body parts (after he was dismembered by their brother Set) that she was unable to find.

The American Jesuit priest Father James J. Martin SJ held a Requiem Mass for Father Caiaphas’ fleshly phallus as he had rather fond memories of it.

The basilisk’s body was delivered to Chef Gordon Ramsay and some of his previous winners on the TV program Hell’s Kitchen.

The Rothschilds and some of their business associates were holding a buffet luncheon dinner this Good Friday in London and thought roast basilisk would be just the thing.

Chef Gordon Ramsay and his Hell’s Kitchen crew were brought in to prepare it.

“It tastes like chicken,” one of the Rothschild associates remarked.

“That’s because basilisk is part rooster as well as part serpent,” Chef Gordon Ramsay explained.

Meanwhile the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was worried whether his company would face a law suit as his company’s chief scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher was responsible for creating this basilisk that caused the fire at Notre Dame this past Monday April 15th 2019 when the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone (driven by the evil Father Caiaphas bar Yochai) breathed venomous fire on repair scaffolding at the cathedral.

However no one on the Paris scene suspected a basilisk as basilisks really hadn’t been around for the past 500 years until Dr. Cadbury Rocher recreated one.

Meanwhile over in France, the ancient Greek god Zeus was having a meeting with French President Emmanuel Macron.

“Monsieur le Presidente,” Zeus spoke impeccable French as he had spent the greater part of the Age of Louis XIV deflowering the loveliest of the French courtesans before the Sun King had the chance to do so, “you may not know this but Notre Dame was built over the site of a Temple of Jupiter. Jupiter was of course the name under which the ancient Romans worshipped me. So I was wondering if you could place a replica of my altar at Pergamum at the top of the new Notre Dame where the old spire and Cross used to be before it collapsed in the towering inferno.”

President Macron, who was busy mentally calculating the age of Zeus’ wife Hera and figuring that she must still be a pretty good looking woman judging from her statues, replied, “Why don’t we discuss this over souvlaki and ouzo?”.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday April 19th
2019.


The Greek goddess Hera: Still an extremely good looking woman

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Renfield Vs. Crowley Idolizing Jesuits: Vengeance For The Basilisk Attack On Notre Dame

April 16, 2019 at 9:58 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

After Dr. Cadbury Rocher was handed over to his great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes to get his buns tomatoed for genetically creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame, Renfield was busy tracking down the Aleister Crowley admiring Jesuit priest Father Caiaphas bar Yochai the dark arts practicing sorcerer who flew the basilisk named Basilisk Wrathsbone that set fire to repair scaffolding at Notre Dame with his fiery venomous breath.

Father Caiaphas worked in the Antiquities Section of the Vatican Museum, headed the Rome chapter of the O.T.O. (Ordo Templi Orientis) and served as an advisor on papal liturgies for the Mass to Pope Francis.

Renfield found out in between blood curdling screams screamed by Dr. Rocher in Sherrielock’s dungeon below the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion that the odour of the weasel was apparently fatal to the basilisk.

Renfield bought a bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from a discount drug store in London’s Soho district.

He went down to Set Enterprises laboratory and got Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster to visualize the current location of the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.

The Baphomet worshipping Jesuit Father Caiaphas bar Yochai had apparently flown the basilisk to Libya for safety after the disastrous choice he made in getting the basilisk to set fire to Notre Dame with its fiery venomous breath.

The basilisk was a big hit with some of the Islamist terrorist militants there who shouted “Allah akbar!” when Notre Dame went up in flames.

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec had volunteered to fight the basilisk and Father Caiaphas.

Qonzilqointec and Dracul had flown to Amman Jordan to meet Pegasus the winged horse (also genetically recreated by Dr. Cadbury Rocher) who would be their steed in battling the evil basilisk and its evil Jesuit rider.

Pegasus was currently owned by Queen Rania of Jordan.

Aztec vampiress and Canadian slayer returned to London on Pegasus.

There the Aztec vampiress picked up the bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from Renfield to slay the evil basilisk and Dracul picked up the authentic sword of Saint George the Dragonslayer from The Old Curiosity Shop (of Dickensonian fame) to slay the evil Jesuit.

Then they were off to Libya for the final showdown.


The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec: With a small bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume in her purse, she’s off to Libya on Pegasus to slay the evil basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 16th
2019.

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Vampire Set Addresses Cleopatra’s Needle: A Poem

April 14, 2019 at 10:45 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, History, International Intrigue, love, Mythology, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

The billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set was walking the Victoria Embankment of the River Thames when he came across Cleopatra’s Needle.

The vampire put his hands on the ancient obelisk which was originally erected in the Egyptian city of Heliopolis on the orders of Pharaoh Thutmose III around 1450 BC.

He addressed the obelisk as he touched it:

You are a relic from the land of my birth
When I first emerged from the sands of the earth
And yet you have no memory of me at all
a silent blind sentinal to all I’ve done great and small
I slew my brother Osiris out of jealousy
because I wanted our sister Isis for me
And threw parts of him up and down the Nile
Which Isis went and retrieved mile by mile
She’d not have done the same for me
That’s when I realized I counted for nothing at all.

So my name is mud in the annals of history
How she restored him to life remains a mystery
And my nephew Horus emerged too
Ensuring my dark reign was through

But this was not always the case
Grandfather Ra thought me the fairest of the race
When I slew the serpent Apophis on the barge of the sun
Then heroism and light was the course I did run

But that is forgotten now
Wiped away like the sweat off my brow
My day in the sun is no more
Dark shadowy ground forever my floor
A creature of the night forevermore

And yet once last century
I was briefly happy
When I met Serena a daughter of time
And love rose like meter to rhyme
I should have known
lasting happiness was not mine

She was killed by an agent of terror
Stalin who ruled his land by trial and error
Trial for those ruled, and error it could not be
In that dark mind of cruel majesty

So Serena is gone
Stalin is gone
And I live on and on

From the night I came
To the night I return
And any sands I walk
Are sands the sun does not burn.

-A poem recited by Set to Cleopatra’s Needle

-A poem written by Christopher
Sunday April 14th
2019.


Serena the mortal human fiancee of Set who was slain by Stalinist agents in London in the autumn of 1924

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Atargatis, Dracul and The A. Y. Jackson Painting

March 29, 2019 at 10:18 pm (Art, Arts, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, love, Romance, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

The year was 1955.

Winston Churchill had recently stepped down as Prime Minister of Britain.

And an exhibit of paintings of Canadian artist A. Y. Jackson was opening in London.

The Syro-Phoenician goddess Atargatis had gone back in time from the current year of 2019 to 1955 to purchase an A.Y. Jackson painting that would become quite valuable.

Atargatis at a London art exhibit in the spring of 1955.

The name of the painting was Painting Of A Buffalo From The Rearend As Painted From The Rearend of A Train.

The buffalo had been painted by Jackson while he was sitting at the back of a caboose at a train stopped in the Red Deer River Badlands near Drumheller, Alberta, Canada.

A buffalo had stoppped and turned around and showed Jackson his rearend so the artist had painted a picture of the spectacle.

“A most remarkable portrait of the late Fuhrer of Germany,” Sir Winston Churchill remarked as he gazed at the painting through his spectacles.

Atargatis controlled a laugh.

Then she caught sight of Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.

“Are you here to bid on the painting, Van Helsing?” She asked.

“No, just here to take a look,” Van Helsing replied, “my dad often talked about this painting. That very same buffalo later went and took a crap on the shoes of my dad’s school principal. My dad always wanted to say thanks to that buffalo but never got around to it. So I’m here to do it on his behalf.”

“You’re an unusual man, Van Helsing,” Atargatis took a martini off a passing tray.

“And you’re a ravishingly beautiful goddess,” Van Helsing likewise grabbed a martini.

“We really should stop meeting like this,” Atargatis smiled, “it gives a whole new meaning to that expression “blast from the past”. Although I must say, I wouldn’t mind doing it in a DeLorean.”

“Neither would I,” Van Helsing smiled in return, “seeing as how time traveling DeLorean drivers were right in their prognostications about who would become U.S. President in a certain time period- be it Reagan or be it Trump- I’m sure the DeLorean back seat windows could use a little steaming up.”

“Did the DeLorean have a back seat?” Atargatis asked.

“If it didn’t, we could always make one,” the vampire hunter helped himself to a raw oyster.

“I hear a couple of nights ago, you were in Havana, Cuba in 1956,” Atargatis helped herself to a Cuban cigar.

“I was,” Van Helsing offered her a light, “where I heard from a Los Angeles private eye that drinking milk from your lactating breasts makes one immortal.”

“And would you like to be immortal, Mr. Van Helsing?” She approached him.

“England expects every man to do his duty,” Dracul quoted Lord Horatio Nelson and looked down the front of her dress.

The remaining drops of the Syro-Phoenician goddess’ martini wound up in the vampire hunter’s face.

Atargatis walked outside.

After grabbing a towel from the waiter and wiping his face, Van Helsing followed her.

“Well, how about this for a coincidence?” Dracul Van Helsing quoted a line that Dustin Hoffman spoke to Katharine Ross at the back of a bus and pointed towards a car parked in front of the art gallery steps, “A DeLorean.”

Atargatis looked at the car and smiled.

She turned to Van Helsing with a twinkle in her eye and said, “Well, a girl really can’t say no to a DeLorean can she?”.

“They shall look back and say, this was their finest hour,” Churchill quipped as he exited the art gallery.

“And will I get the chance to play with your gearshift, Mr. Van Helsing?” Atargatis asked as the vampire hunter opened the door for her.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” was the vampire hunter’s reply.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 29th
2019.

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Atargatis, Cleopatra and Robespierre’s Little Black Book

March 21, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The ghosts of Orson Welles and Sir Winston Churchill (acting as emissaries of British MP Renfield R. Renfield) stood on top of Mount Hermon in the Golan Heights alongside Renfield’s ally the Byzantine vampiress Theodora.

As a result of Theodora’s dropping a mixture of ring worms and tape worms in Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s coffee the night before, the Turkish leader had spent the day scratching his ass while speaking in front of voters on the campaign trail causing the would be Ottoman sultan to look like a total idiot.

“I see Donald Trump has tweeted that the U.S. government is formally recognizing the Golan Heights as Israeli controlled rather than Israeli occupied,” Welles’ ghost remarked as he surveyed the landscape.

“I imagine Syria and her allies Iran and Russia will have something to say about that,” Theodora commented.

“But that fact has obviously not appeared on Donald Trump’s radar,” Churchill said as he chewed on his spectral cigar.

. . .

“Mr. President, your Norwegian blue parrot has just shit all over Air Force One’s radar,” the pilot of Air Force One gave a visual surveillance commentary to the usually inept and in need of explanation Donald Trump.

“Lexington,” Trump shouted to his British valet and butler as he tried to get parrot droppings out of his toupee, “would you put that blasted parrot back in his cage?”.

. . .


The Syro-Phoenician goddess mermaid Atargatis (in human form) looking for Maximilien Robespierre’s little black book in a book collector’s library of the 1930s

Atargatis had traveled back in time to New York City in 1939.

It had come to her attention that Maximilien Robespierre’s Little Black Book (in which he wrote down all the names of his enemies who were to be executed by the Committee of Public Safety) contained a prophecy given to Robespierre by a clairvoyant prostitute who once dressed up as the Goddess of Reason in Notre Dame Cathedral.


The Goddess of Reason had given a prophecy to Robespierre which he wrote down in his little black book.

The prophecy apparently involved the Golan Heights in the year 2019 and Atargatis who was working in alliance with the Syrians, the Iranians and the Russians desired to know what the prophecy was.

The last known location of Robespierre’s book was in the library of a New York City book collector Joffre Horton Hurtig.

No one knew what became of the book after 1940.

So Atargatis had used the CERN Large Hadron Collidor to travel back in time to the book collector’s library in 1939.


She located the book hiding behind another book in a bookshelf in his library.

“I see you have found Robespierre’s book,” Dracul Van Helsing spoke behind the goddess.

He had used the Houdini-Tesla-Welles-Lamarr prototype magic lantern film projector to travel back in time.

“You want the book as well, Van Helsing?” Atargatis asked.

“Indeed I do,” Van Helsing replied, “I’ll wrestle you for it.”

It was one Hell of a wrestling match.

. . .

In her mortal life, Cleopatra had been Queen of Egypt reigning as Cleopatra VII Philopator.

Today the resurrected Cleopatra served as the High Queen of Ireland although so far the world was unaware of her secret Druidic coronation on March 17th 2018.

“So what are we doing in Jerusalem?” Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun asked her.

“That my dear Yaldabaoth, you’re about to find out,” Cleopatra smiled and bore fangs like those of a snake.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 21st
2019.

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Semiramis and Dracul Van Helsing In 1890s San Francisco

March 9, 2019 at 9:27 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, History, International Intrigue, love, Mystery, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )


Semiramis the former Queen of Babylon in the San Francisco of the 1890s

Semiramis had been having dinner with British Prime Minister Theresa May discussing Brexit and the Irish border question when suddenly the ghost of the Rev. Ian Paisley (recently granted temporary dispensational release from Purgatory by Hades the Greek god of the Underworld) showed up complaining about the fact that there was indeed a Purgatory which the good reverend stated that he found very offensive to his Ulster style Presbyterian beliefs.

To top it off, Rev. Paisley complained that his little corner of Purgatory happened to be right next door to the little corner of Tartarus where Rodrigo Borgia (better known as Pope Alexander VI) was busy roasting away on his spit.

The debaucherous evil pontiff’s screams were keeping him awake at night, Rev. Paisley bellyached.

Rev. Paisley then glanced at Semiramis and the very short skirted mini dress she was wearing.

“Aren’t you the Whore of Babylon?” Rev. Paisley asked Semiramis as he clutched a rare first edition of Alexander Hislop’s The Two Babylons in his ghostly spectral hands.

Semiramis gave the Rev. Ian Paisley such a fierce slap across his ghostly spectral face that it sent the late former Northern Ireland politician flying all the way to European Commission headquarters in Brussels.

“Excuse me,” Semiramis addressed Theresa May as she ran off to the washroom.

“How dare that orangish little bigot call me a whore,” Semiramis applied a very deep scarlet coloured rouge red lipstick to her lips as she looked at her lovely beautiful reflection in the mirror.

The lipstick she was applying to her lips was her time travelling lipstick- lipstick that enabled her to travel anywhere in time.

“Take me to San Francisco in the 1890s,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.

Semiramis found herself in 1890s San Francisco dressed in a lovely and beautifully elegant dress and hat of that decade.

“Well, how about this for a coincidence?” Dracul Van Helsing looked up from the bed on which he had been lying.

Minutes before, he had been sent to this time and place by the CERN Large Hadron Collidor as a result of the ghosts of John F. Kennedy and Nikita Krushchev arguing over the controls at the site.

Van Helsing picked up Krushchev’s shoe and threw it out the hotel room window where it landed on one of Richard M. Nixon’s forebears who had gone shopping for new kitchen decor along with his wife.

“That sounds like lovely music the orchestra is playing in the hotel ballroom downstairs,” Semiramis flicked back her hair, “why don’t we go downstairs and dance and then come back up here and have tantric sex afterwards?”.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Van Helsing got dressed.

Downstairs they danced to the Blue Danube Waltz of Johann Strauss.

The time travelling Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau vampire Franz Kohler entered the ballroom at that moment and noticed the pair.

Kohler was in the San Francisco of the 1890s investing in steam bath houses as, being from the future, he knew that investing in bath houses would prove to be a profitable investment in San Francisco.

“What a ravishingly beautiful woman,” Kohler looked longingly at Semiramis and seethed with jealousy at Van Helsing.

He recalled a lecture that he had once heard “that odious Jewish ghost” (in Kohler’s own words) of Sigmund Freud deliver in a London Masonic hall a few weeks ago in 2019, that Tammuz seemed to spend more time on the Viennese psychoanalyst’s couch down in Purgatory than anybody else.

He could see why.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday March 9th
2019.

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Cthulhu’s Cardinal and A Welsh Werewolf On Saint David’s Day

March 1, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Romance, Science-Fiction, Spy Tales, Technology, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )


The February 1928 issue of Weird Tales in which H.P. Lovecraft’s character of Cthulhu is first introduced to the world in the short story “The Call of Cthulhu”.

Since Samhain Cardinal Salaman’s official episcopal title (bestowed on him by Pope Francis) was the Archbishop of the Welsh Diocese of Llanthony Abbey and the Black Mountains (a diocese officially created for the kabbalistic magic practicing former professional stage magician by Pope Francis), the Kabbalistic Cardinal said a Mass in commemoration of Saint David since Saint David is the Patron Saint of Wales and today March 1st was Saint David’s Day.

After saying Mass and having a breakfast of Welsh rarebit that frightened off the Anglo-Saxon goddess Eostre’s painted egg laying rabbit Vincent Van Yolk because he thought the cardinal said “Welsh rabbit”, Cardinal Salaman had coffee with the Zeus and Apollo worshipping Cardinal JM (As the Cardinal was known by his initials being the head of the Vatican’s Secret Intelligence Service).

Salaman informed JM that the gypsy vampiress and resident Vatican tarot card reader Stephania Borgia had prophecied that he, Samhain Cardinal Salaman, would become the next Pope if he could convince Francis to elevate a Welsh werewolf to the Cardinalate.

This would of course entail Salaman to visit his diocese in Wales in hopes of finding himself a Welsh werewolf.

The problem was since Francis had already artificially created a new diocese in Wales to make Cardinal Salaman an Archbishop, where would this new Welsh werewolf (if he could find one) Cardinal have his diocese?

Cardinal JM laughed and said, “No problem. Pope Francis has already named a committee to see if it’s possible to canonize H.P. Lovecraft’s character of Cthulhu a Cathoic Saint since the Holy Father feels that naming the hundreds of meters tall octopus, dragon and giant human hybrid Great Old One malevolent deity who came down from the dark stars a Catholic Saint would constitute a huge breakthrough in ecumenism and inter-faith dialogue.”


Cthulhu: Will he be proclaimed a Catholic Saint by Pope Francis?

“Well, it probably would constitute that,” Cardinal Salaman had to admit, “but how will that help me out?”.

“Well, His Holiness is thinking of declaring the lost South Pacific City of R’lyeh (close to that ocean’s Nemo point) where Cthulhu and his other vast loathsome shaped entity Great Old Ones reside hidden in green slimy vaults in the nighmare corpse city beneath the sea a Catholic Archdiocese which will of course require an Archbishop.”

“My problem is solved,” Salaman smiled as he threw the tarot card of Death down on the table.

. . .

French President Emmanuel Macron was being briefed by the Australian-French head of the French Intelligence Service Inspector Jocko Clouseau that the right-wing populist government of Italy was plotting his overthrow.

“How do they plan to do this?” Macron asked as he ate his French toast that had been prepared in the shape of a cougar.

“They’ve formed an alliance with a Kraken who calls himself Napoleon VI who is intent on restoring the Bonapartist Empire to France with himself as Emperor,” Clouseau read aloud from his ketchup and gravy covered notes, “This Kraken used to be the Italian mad scientist Dr. Poseidon Prometheus who, after he was diagnosed with an incurable fatal disease, uploaded his consciousness into the body of a cyborg Octopus- part living octopus and part robot. The self-proclaimed Napoleon VI later met and married the immortal Medusa who was the Gorgon of Greek mythological fame. Medusa is now a good looking and sexy woman again thanks to a radical haircut that removed her snakes that was administered by the famous British scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s robot barber Edward Scissorhands the 2nd.”

“Did you say that this Medusa was a sexy and good looking woman again?” Macron was down to his third last piece of cougar toast.

“That is correct,” Clouseau pulled a cheeseburger out of his coat pocket and started eating it.

“Being immortal, she’s probably a lot older than I am,” Macron reflected as he was down to his second last piece of cougar toast.

“Undoubtedly,” Clouseau added a pinch of garlic to his cheeseburger.

“I’d like to meet her,” Macron wiped his mouth with a napkin after finishing his last piece of cougar.

. . .


Medusa was once again a sexy looking woman.

. . .


Celebrating Saint David’s Night at her home in Wales was the Welsh vampiress MP Morgana.

The Welsh vampiress Morgana was about to celebrate Saint David’s Night in Wales with the Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing.

Minutes later at a Bed and Breakfast down the street, her former political opponent in the last British general election the former Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley was awakened by the resulting tantric sex earthquake.

The former MP now turned Private Eye (who was also a werewolf) longed for a silver bullet so he could get some sleep.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday March 1st
2019.

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Morgana and Dracul, Vampyra and The Kabbalistic Cardinal

February 28, 2019 at 11:57 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


The Welsh Vampiress MP Morgana sitting on top of her coffin in an Estate’s private forest in London

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing had gone to the Austenbronte Estate in London where the Welsh vampiress Morgana kept her coffin filled with her native Welsh soil.

He had received a phone call from her to meet her there.

As he approached her, she sat on her coffin smelling a flower she had found growing in the late February snow.

“Some flowers are blooming early,” Dracul remarked.

“And thistles aren’t far behind,” Morgana answered.

“And who are the thistles?” Dracul deduced that Morgana was speaking in code.

Morgana continued to smell the flower, “It was someone at the Vatican who sent those demon worshipping Tibetan Buddhist monks to try to cast a spell on my parliamentary colleague Renfield with their demon possessed musical instruments a few nights ago.”

“Yes, Renfield was forced to cancel attending last evening’s London premiere of the movie Captain Marvel because the Church of England’s leading exorcist Father Aidan Bury Saint Edmunds was forced to perform an exorcism on Renfield’s container of Gillette Shaving Cream in Renfield’s bathroom last night,” Van Helsing noted, “although I’m surprised Renfield didn’t give up using that product weeks ago after that fruity Gillette commercial hit the TV airwaves back in January.”


Last night’s London premiere of Captain Marvel: Which Renfield was unable to attend due to a close encounter with a demon possessed container of Gillette Shaving Cream

“And would you like to know who gave the order for the Tibetan demonic attack on Renfield?” Morgana asked the vampire hunter.

“I would,” Dracul took out his notebook and his ink dipped raven feather quill pen.

“Someone who goes around the Vatican singing Don’t Cry For Me, Argentina,” Morgana smiled.

. . .

Samhain Cardinal Salaman lay in bed at the Vatican.

He hoped he wouldn’t be awakened again early in the morning by a certain bozo in white robes who went around singing the same song from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita every morning.

He fell asleep and dreamed he met the 1950s American TV horror movie hostess Vampyra who sat on a coffin and offered him a smoky concoction.

Cardinal Salaman eagerly drank the smoking potion.

He soon found himself transported to the Vatican Gardens where he encountered the gypsy vampiress Stephania Borgia:

Stephania Borgia informed him, “If you wish to be the next Pope, you’re going to have to convince Francis to elevate a Welsh werewolf to the Cardinalate.”

“Where am I going to find a Welsh werewolf?” The Kabbalistic magician cardinal asked himself.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday February 28th
2019.

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Atargatis and Dracul, Kali and Lexus Decameron

February 24, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, love, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )


The northern Syrian goddess Atargatis toasts the morning after an evening of tantric sex with a vampire hunter

“Good morning, Mr. Van Helsing,” the goddess Atargatis toasted the Canadian vampire hunter with vodka after a night of tantric lovemaking.

“Good morning,” Van Helsing replied, “Is that an original Lexus Decameron oil painting I see behind you?”.

“It is,” Atargatis smiled, “it’s a painting of me in my mermaid form stealing Poseidon’s trident.”

“He’s captured the top part of you very well,” Van Helsing noted, “as for the bottom, I can’t say because I’ve never seen you in your mermaid form nor would I want to. Because I prefer my fish with chips and malt vinegar wrapped up in a basket of newspapers bought from Cockney Kids Fish ‘N Chips Shop.”

“My human bottom part is quite satisfied with you, Van Helsing,” Atargatis laughed, “so no fish tail soup for you.”

Van Helsing grabbed himself some ginger beer rather than vodka to drink and looked at the painting, “But I seem to recall my art gallery curator friend Dashwood Forrest saying that Lexus Decameron was born in 1970 and didn’t actually start painting until 2013. So what is a Lexus Decameron painting doing in a New York City hotel room in February 1944?”.

“The answer is simple like Donald Trump’s mind, Mr. Van Helsing,” Atargatis smiled like the Mona Lisa, “I brought it with me from the future.”

“And is this painting of you stealing Poseidon’s trident exactly how it happened?” Van Helsing asked inquisitively.

“It is,” Atargatis answered explicitly, “it happened off the small Greek island of Christopheros where Lexus Decameron has his studio. He was out swimming at the time and he saw me steal it. The man has a photographic memory. He used that memory to paint this picture.”

“I imagine my friend Peter Whitstable of Interpol would love to get his hand on that painting and use it as evidence,” Van Helsing looked at the picture of the sub-oceanic theft.

“Which is why I bought the painting from the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London,” Atargatis laughed as she ate a smoked oyster and washed it down with vodka, “because Lexus Decameron doesn’t allow copies or reproductions of his work. So I’ve got the evidence. And an artistic masterpiece as well.”

“It’s a fine body of work,” Van Helsing had to admit.

“As am I, Mr. Van Helsing, as am I,” she kissed him on the lips.

. . .

The Hindu goddess Kali had gone to the quiet tranquil Greek island of Christopheros to escape the noise her husband Shiva was making while composing a musical piece called Beethoven’s 9th Symphony Meets Freddie Mercury’s Bohemian Rhapsody which he was planning to perform with the Swiss National Symphony Orchestra.

While there, she visited the Lexus Decameron Studio where she admired his paintings.

“Where is Mr. Decameron at the moment?” She asked his housekeeper.

“At a friend’s studio in Paris,” the housekeeper answered, “French President Emmanuel Macron hired him to paint a picture of a living Statue of Liberty that the French President will give as a gift to Donald Trump in hopes that it will renew their fraternal brotherly romance.”

“And who’s he planning to use as a model?” Kali asked.

“The Egyptian goddess Isis who happens to live in Paris,” the housekeeper answered.

Kali thought to herself, “Why should Egyptian goddesses have all the fun?”.

She divinely teleported herself to Paris to the studio where Decameron was working.

And asked him to use her as a model.

Decameron agreed.

The painting went well except for the fact that the flaming torch the painter gave Kali was rather high and the ceiling of his friend’s studio was rather low.

In the resulting 10 alarm fire, goddess, painter and painting managed to escape to safety.

But all that Lexus Decameron could remember of the scene before the smoke detector fire alarm went off was the following:

But still he hoped that Emmanuel Macron and Donald Trump would like the painting.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday February 24th
2019.

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Atargatis and Van Helsing, Whitstable and Priyanka, Sherrielock Holmes and Maduro

February 23, 2019 at 11:55 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )


The northern Syrian mermaid goddess Atargatis in human form

The northern Syrian mermaid goddess Atargatis had shapeshifted into fully human form and was sitting in a luxury hotel suite in a swank New York City hotel in February of 1944.

A huge battle was currently going on between time travellers.

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was battling Nazi SS Ahnenerbe officer Franz Kohler up and down the corridors of time and various epochs in history.

Kohler was using the technology of Die Glocke a bell shaped space-going and time travelling Nazi UFO like saucer craft.

Dracul Van Helsing was using the Houdini-Tesla-Welles-Lamarr prototype magic lantern film projector to travel back and forth through time.

Also interfering in the time travelling war was the CERN Large Hadron Collidor in Switzerland being run by scientists who were indulging in far too much use of legalized recreational Canadian cannabis.

Also partaking in the pot inhalation was the Hindu god Shiva (whose statue was outside the CERN tunnel) who as a result was trying to conduct the Swiss National Symphony Orchestra into conducting a personal musical number that the deity was composing tentatively called Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony Meets Freddie Mercury’s Bohemian Rhapsody.

The first negative critic of the piece was Shiva’s wife Kali who was using all ten of her arms to cover her ears and when that didn’t work had fled to an artist’s studio on a quiet Greek island.

Now the conflict between Van Helsing and Kohler had turned to New York City in February 1944 a few months before the June D-Day Invasion of Normandy.

Van Helsing had just managed to evade arrest by Astana Kazakhstan police authorities for an assassination attempt on Russian President Vladimir Putin and the supernatural entity Black Dragon of Beijing.

The vampire hunter did have an alibi in that he was being spanked by and having tantric sex with the vampiress Golgotha (vampiress daughter of the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith) at the time.

But the Astana Kazakhstan authorities were the type to torture first and ask questions later.

So Van Helsing pressed the button on his Houdini-Tesla-Welles-Lamarr protype magic lantern and found himself in New York City in February 1944.

As a result of Orson Welles one of the inventors of the Magic Lantern (whose prototype was finally completed by Austro-American actress and inventor Hedy Lamarr) loving to direct films in black and white, the world Van Helsing found himself in as he was time travelling was often in black and white.

“So, Mr. Van Helsing,” the human formed goddess Atargatis greeted him as he landed on her Persian rug in her elegant New York City suite, “I suppose you’re here to ask, where have I hidden the Greek sea god Poseidon’s trident?”.

Van Helsing decided to engage in French kissing with the elegant black silk blouse and elegant white skirt wearing northern Syrian goddess instead.

As for the whereabouts of Poseidon’s trident… well that was all Greek to Van Helsing.

. . .


The mermaid Priyanka on the rocks at Vancouver’s English Bay.

Peter Whitstable the man they called the Fox Mulder of Interpol was walking along the beach at Vancouver’s English Bay.

He had spent the past couple of weeks traversing British Columbia’s Sechelt Peninsula trying to find Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau’s marijuana pot smoking desert cactus plant Strawberry Fields Forever who had been abducted by the Chinese Communist vampiress Mei-ling Manchu (the daughter of Fu Manchu) as vengeance for the Canadian arrest at Vancouver International Airport of Huawei CFO Meng Wanzhou.

The pot smoking cactus plant would be freed when Meng Wanzhou was fully freed.

The plant had been hidden in the pot smoke covered hippy village of Calypso’s Bosom (a New Age Aquarian Age equivalent of Scotland’s mystical village of Brigadoon) on the Peninsula that had vanished off the face of the earth back in 1969 when Neil Armstrong said “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for…” and there the transmission had ended when all the hippy commune members’ minds had blown simultaneously and the village had disappeared in a mystical marijuana laced mist of pot smoke.

The village/hippy commune only appeared once every 7 years for a single day and a single night.

Only supernatural entities such as vampiresses, gods and goddesses could access the village in the “meantime and in-between time” as an old Stampede Wrestling ring side announcer might phrase it.

Whitstable had hoped that by carrying the supernatural relic of the right hand middle finger of the last Knights-Templar Grand Master Jacques de Molay (the same middle finger that de Molay had raised towards his papal interrogators and his French Royal Army captors as he was being burnt at the stake on the night of March 18th 1314) in his pocket that he’d be able to locate the elusive village/hippy commune but no such luck.

It would be another few years before the village/hippy commune of Calypso’s Bosom appeared on its own again.

In the meantime Prime Minister Justin Trudeau was pulling his hair out (and might end up having to wear a toupee like his southern neighbour Donald Trump) until his pot smoking prickly little buddy Strawberry Fields Forever was returned to him.

As Whitstable approached the mermaid Priyanka leaning against a rock, he recognized her.

The mermaid might be able to help him with another case he was working on.

The Greek god of the sea Poseidon had recently reported to Interpol that his trident had been stolen.

“Excuse me, Priyanka,” Whitstable greeted the mermaid, “Do you know where Poseidon’s trident is?”.

. . .

World famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes was in Caracas Venezuela on a mission for the British government.

British House of Commons Covert Intelligence Committee Co-Chairman Renfield R. Renfield had decided that drastic action must be taken against Venezuelan President Nicolas Maduro for Venezuelan Army soldiers gunning down innocent civilians who were trying to bring food and medical supplies across the Venezuelan-Brazilian border.

Sherrielock Holmes was across from Maduro’s Presidential Palace carrying a poison tipped umbrella.

The poison in the umbrella tip would render Maduro permanently impotent.

The only antidote to the “permanently impotent” poison would be a sperm transfusion from Donald Trump.

Something Maduro would be most reluctant to consider.

When Maduro left the palace, Sherrielock KO’d Maduro’s entire bodyguard with karate kicks.

She then injected the umbrella’s poisoned tip into Maduro’s penis.

The Venezuelan President was now permanently (as opposed to 95% of the time) impotent.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday February 23rd
2019.

Meanwhile in the room next door in the swank New York City hotel in February 1944, the Norse goddess Freya had knocked out Franz Kohler with a bottle of French champagne.

“What a sad waste of French champagne!” Freya thought to herself.

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