Faustina

November 19, 2020 at 11:40 pm (Arts, Culture, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


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.

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Reflections About The Year 2020 On A Mist Filled October Evening

October 26, 2020 at 10:24 pm (Gothic, Horror, Mystery/horror, Poetry) (, , , , , , )

2020- “The year that just keeps on giving”
Many say in the worst sense of that expression
20/20 vision when visiting the optometrist
means perfect vision
Perhaps in this year of 2020
We have achieved perfect vision
And don’t like what we see

We’re like Dorian Gray
The character in Oscar Wilde’s novel
The Picture of Dorian Gray
Who after living a lifetime
of sin, debauchery and crime
After his portrait was created
Finally unveils his portrait
to see what the state of his soul
looks like

And he’s shocked to see
what he sees there

In this year
Humanity like Dorian
is finally seeing the portrait
unveiled of itself
by the winds of 2020
and does not like
what it sees

But what it sees is a reflection
of what it truly is.


“Here’s to Dorian and all that he has left behind.”

-A poem written by Christopher
Monday October 26th
2020.

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Dinner At Tiffany’s: Leprechaun of The Dance

October 16, 2020 at 10:59 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Tiffany Twisted: Formerly the sensuous witch of the Hotel California
and now the sensuous witch of Sleepy Hollow

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun had been invited to dinner in the Inn room across the hall from his own.

The room that had been rented to one Tiffany Twisted.

Yaldabaoth bathed, showered and shaved.

Then he put on his Irish Spring Mist of The River Shannon aftershave cologne followed by his best green tuxedo and little green bow tie.

Then he walked out the door.

Bucephalus Reborn the walking, talking and dancing zombie black horse thought to himself, “I wonder if I should have told him he forgot to put his trousers on.”

A thought with which Joe Biden campaign staffers were quite familiar with when it came to their own candidate.

Yaldabaoth knocked on the door.

“Come in, Yaldabaoth,” the sensuous voice of Tiffany Twisted beckoned.

Yaldabaoth opened the door and saw this vision:

“Wow, do you ever look hot,” Yaldabaoth felt like President Teddy Roosevelt at this very moment.

“I see you came prepared,” Tiffany smiled like the siren laced rocks of the eastern Mediterranean.

Yaldabaoth looked down and his face turned red, “Faith and begorrah, I seem to have forgotten my trousers.”

He grabbed a copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses off the room’s bookshelf and held it in front of his shamrock deco decorated underwear.

“It’s all right, Yaldabaoth,” she smiled like dawn rising over the hill of Tara, “I like a leprechaun who knows what he wants.”

Tiffany dimmed the lights and started lighting candles.

In the background could be heard Cher’s voice singing on an old 45,

Dark lady laughed and danced and lit the candles one by one
Danced to her gypsy music till her brew was done
Dark lady played back magic till the clock struck on the twelve
She told me more about me than I knew myself.

When the candles were lit, Tiffany and Yaldabaoth drank red wine and ate a Guinness laced Irish potato casserole.

For dessert, they had pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top.

“I hope this pie wasn’t made with my friend Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden’s head,” Yaldabaoth commented as he licked the whipped cream off Tiffany’s toes.

His newly formed acquaintance Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden was the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow and had a pumpkin jack o’ lantern for a head.

“It wasn’t,” Tiffany assurred him with tender kisses.

The clock was approaching 12.

“Let’s dance,” Tiffany put on her record player again.

Tiffany reached for Yaldabaoth’s lucky shamrock.

The voice on the record sang,

I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise

He did the mash, he did the monster mash
The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash
He did the mash, it caught on in a flash
He did the mash, he did the monster mash

At that moment the Headless Horseman walked in unaware that he was entering the wrong room.

When he saw what the leprechaun and the sensuous witch were doing, he screamed, “I’m blind. I’m blind.”

He turned out into the hall, ran down the stairs, tripped over his feet, landed on the floor and his pumpkin head came off and rolled towards the grandfather clock that was just starting to strike 12.

“Mercy,” the innkeeper muttered at the front desk, “This never happened at the Hotel California.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday October 16th
2020.

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Dr. Jekyll and Miss Allatallahbel

September 26, 2020 at 10:41 pm (Gothic, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

Dr. Henry Jekyll sat drinking tea in a tea shop in Whitby, Yorkshire.

He had changed his name to Dr. Henry Boleyn after having fled London.

His alter ego Edward Hyde kept spinning out of control.

So he faked his death.

A friend of his got the writer Robert Louis Stevenson to write a book saying that he Jekyll (and his evil alter ego Hyde) were now dead.

Jekyll had contacted the infamous London crime overlord (and a brilliant mathematician) Prof. James Moriarty for help.

Moriarty using his mathematical genius had managed to come up with a formula for a serum that kept Jekyll’s Hyde permanently at bey.

Jekyll decided to move to Whitby for peace and quiet.

All was going well until bodies started showing up on the beach at Whitby.

Their bodies completely drained of blood.

Jekyll worried that somehow Moriarty’s serum was starting to lose its potency and that Hyde had re-emerged again for a dreadful new game of Hyde and seek.

Jekyll tried to reach Moriarty by messenger for help but Moriarty was currently playing a game of hide and seek himself with a London consulting detective named Sherlock Holmes.

One night Jekyll went for a walk along the river when he came upon this vision:

Allatallahbel the vampiress priestess of Baal

The vampiress attacked Jekyll, bit him on the neck and completely drained him of his blood.

On this night at the hands of the vampiress Allatallahbel, Jekyll had nowhere to Hyde.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday September 26th
2020.

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The Beautiful Annabel Lee

August 14, 2020 at 11:08 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, International Intrigue, Literature, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


The beautiful Annabel Lee walked up the stairs of the old mansion

Carson Cody Albion the Los Angeles Private Eye was working on an unusual case.

He had recently been hired by a Dr. Lionel Jarrett who was a Professor of Classics at the University of Saskatchewan in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada to check out an old allegedly haunted mansion in San Francisco.

Dr. Jarrett, from Albion’s understanding of the man, often engaged in unusual research.

Jarrett had recently tracked down an oil painting of the Greek mythological tragic figure Medusa that had been painted by writer Oscar Wilde.

Albion had received an email from Dr. Jarrett last night.

The collector of rare and unusual antiquities had just purchased the Wilde painting of Medusa from an art gallery in London, England called The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery.

In addition to tracking down Wilde’s paintings of mythological themes, Dr. Jarrett was also interested in the writings and life of writer Edgar Allan Poe.

Poe apparently knew a woman named Annabel Lee in Baltimore in 1849, Dr. Jarrett discovered from examining a collection of letters from a family called Lee.

Annabel found the writer somewhat creepy and therefore left Baltimore for California.

Annabel told a friend to tell Poe that she (Annabel) had died so he wouldn’t follow her to California.

Poe apparently didn’t take the news of Annabel Lee’s death very well.

Although he did write a good poem from it.

Even creepily imagining that they had known one another since youth.

Annabel Lee went to San Francisco where she apparently bought herself a beautiful mansion.

A few years later she died in an unusual thunder storm when she was struck by lightning.

People to this day, apparently, still report seeing her ghost walking up the stairs of her San Francisco mansion.

Dr. Jarrett had asked Albion to visit the mansion to see if he could get a photo of her ghost.

Albion had gone to the mansion with an old black and white camera.

At the stroke of midnight, she appeared walking up the elegant stairwell of the old mansion.

. . .

“You know what’s crazy, man?” Joe Biden in his basement was addressing his pet pot smoking desert cactus plant Sweet Dementia, “I had a dream last night where the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe appeared to me and put a ghostly spectral millstone around my neck. Why would he put a millstone around my neck?”.

Sweet Dementia said nothing but continued to exhale marijuana smoke.

. . .

As Carson Cody Albion was taking a photo of the beautiful Annabel Lee’s ghost, British MP Renfield R. Renfield was in London reading a dossier that the Set Enterprises Intelligence Unit had put together on Joe Biden’s Vice-Presidential running mate Kamala Harris.

Apparently when Ms. Harris was San Francisco District Attorney from 2004 to 2011, she refused to prosecute cases of priests’ sexual abuse within the Archdiocese of San Francisco.

Not one single case did she prosecute.

She was the only District Attorney among all the District Attorneys in the top 50 metropolitan areas across the U.S. not to lay any charges against Catholic clergy for valid accusations of sexual abuse.

If you looked at the top 50 metropolitan areas in the U.S during that time period of 2004 to 2011, 49 of those prosecuted at least one case, the sole exception being Kamala Harris in San Francisco.

Who prosecuted not a single case.

After first being elected District Attorney, Ms. Harris terminated her predecessor’s plans to publicly release “clergy abuse files” naming names of priests accused of sexual abuse.

Her predecessor Terence Hallinan talked about the fact that he was going to pursue prosecutions. He was going to release records to the public as had been done in various other jurisdictions across the country.

Unfortunately for Mr. Hallinan and the numerous victims of priestly sexual abuse in the San Francisco Archdiocese, Hallinan lost the 2003 election to Kamala Harris.

When Kamala Harris came in, she deep-sixed those documents and put them under seal so they could never be released publicly.

Why would Kamala Harris do this?, Renfield wondered as he turned the page.

The next page had the answer.

The law firms and lawyers who represented the Archdiocese of San Francisco gave large contributions to Harris’ political campaign.

Some of them had never given contributions to a District Attorney electoral race before but they loaded up her campaign coffers.

Money talks like the old saying goes.

Renfield read further.

. . .

Kamala Harris screamed when she woke up in her hotel room.

For standing there was the ghost of Edgar Allan Poe holding a ghostly spectral millstone.

Poe’s ghost put the spectral ghostly millstone around her neck.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday August 14th
2020.

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Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka and Her Wolf Companion

August 8, 2020 at 10:59 pm (Folklore, Gothic, Gothic romance, love, Mythology, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )


The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

The immortal Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka had several wolf companions who served as her protectors.

Her longest serving was a wolf called Seneca who had served her ever since she became an immortal after bareback riding a rare white buffalo on the South Dakota plains back in the late 1870s.

Seneca had been a gift to her from her Medicine Man grandfather (long since deceased).

She had often felt that this wolf Seneca was a creature from another dimension.

The writer C.S. Lewis in one of his Narnia books had once talked about a planet which had several trees growing on it.

Each tree was its own separate universe or world or dimensional realm.

Just as C.S. Lewis saw the rise of the Transhumanist movement within Science (noted in his book That Hideous Strength).

So he foresaw the possibility of multiple worlds or multiple universes- something that modern physics now thinks possible.

Saint Jerome who translated the Bible into Latin -a book known to History as the Vulgate – had recounted in his diary a meeting with a faun (the Roman term for satyr- a creature who was part man and part goat- part of Greco-Roman mythology).

The faun had told Jerome not to worry.

That he (the faun) was a creature from another dimension.

But a dimension created by the same God that Jerome worshipped.

For the Great High God was the creator of the whole Cosmos (and Cosmos in Greek meant the whole created order).

So the faun explained to Jerome that there were many dimensions within the cosmos – the whole created order- not just the dimension in which Jerome’s Earth existed.

Although the faun explained there were a group of beings called the Watchers who had created fauns and satyrs and other hybrids (recounted in mythology) in this dimension.

These Watchers were the ancestors of the Nephilim (the giants) mentioned in the Book of Genesis Chapter 6.

The Watchers and their Nephilim off-spring caused great evil on the Earth which caused God to send the Flood.

When Tanaka had read Jerome’s account of his meeting with the faun, she wondered if Lewis had read it as well.

And caused Lewis to create the faun character of Mr. Tumnus in the Narnia books.

Tanaka reflected on her wolf protectors.

Some were supernatural.

Others were natural who were drawn to her.

There was one- a white wolf with blue eyes- that Tanaka thought was in fact human.

He was a shapeshifter.

Out walking with this blue eyed wolf protector in the woods near the northeastern English village of Barnack (in whose village rectory the noted writer Charles Kingsley author of the book The Water Babies had spent his childhood), Tanaka sat down and looked at him and communicated telepathically.

When the wolf answered Yes to being human, she communicated another question.

The wolf held his head down and then looked up again with sad eyes.

He had lost the ability to speak his own thoughts so he communicated with the lyrics of one of his favourite songs from his childhood – the song Sometimes When We Touch written by Canadian singer-songwriter Dan Hill:

You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
I’d rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie

For who am I to judge you
In what you say or do
I’m only just beginning
To see the real you

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides

Romance’s an honest strategy
Leaves me grappling with my pride
But through the years of maturity
Some tenderness survives
I’m just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prizefighter
Still trapped within my youth

And sometimes when we touch
The honesty’s too much
And I have to close my eyes
And hide…

And with that the wolf closed his eyes and walked with his head down into the woods.

“Avalon,” she called out after him, “Don’t you want me to hold you till the fear in you subsides?”.

The wolf came back.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday August 8th
2020.

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A Distant Mirror

May 28, 2020 at 10:43 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, History, International Intrigue, News, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , )

A Distant Mirror

The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka standing in front of a mirror in her London apartment over a 100 years ago.

Back in 1912, the immortal Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka had obtained a job as a stenographer to Britain’s Foreign Secretary Sir Edward Grey.

Grey’s career as UK Foreign Secretary lasted exactly 11 years from December 10th 1905 to December 10th 1916.

When Sir Edward Grey went to receive his seals of office as Foreign Secretary from King Edward VII on December 11th 1905, a dense fog hung over London; a fog so thick that Grey had to use the pavement kerb to feel his way from Buckingham Palace back to the Foreign Office.

Eleven years to the day, he was back at the Palace, this time to relinquish his seals of office to King George V.

And London was once again shrouded in fog.

It was as if the fog at the start was a foreshadowing of what was to come and the fog at the end were teary mists rising from the earth at the cataclysmic event which transpired when Grey was Foreign Secretary.

That cataclysmic event occurred on what otherwise felt like a beautiful summer day in early August 1914.

The date was August 3rd.

Tanaka had a desk in Grey’s office where she was close at hand to take notes and then write letters and dispatches.

It had been a busy month in the British Foreign Office starting with the assassination of the Austro-Hungarian ArchDuke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, Bosnia-Hercegovina on June 28th 1914.

That assassination exacerbated tensions among the Great Powers throughout Europe.

Austria had issued an ultimatum to Serbia on July 23rd.

Sir Edward Grey himself had tried to put together a group among the Great Powers to mediate the crisis on July 24th and July 25th.

But from July 25th to August 2nd, Russia, Germany and France were already starting to mobilize their troops.

Austria herself declared war on Serbia on July 28th.

Grey worked around the clock to stop an Austro-Serbian War from becoming a Pan-European War.

And even worse a world war.

Which would be what would happen if Germany invaded Belgium to attack France.

For in the 1839 Treaty of London, Britain had agreed to support Belgian neutrality and would come to Belgium’s defence if attacked.

Of course Britain was not just the United Kingdom.

Britain was an Empire.

Canada, Australia, New Zealand and South Africa were self-ruling in terms of home internal affairs but their foreign and defence polices were still determined by London (and would be the case until the Statute of Westminster in 1931).

And of course that was also the case for Britain’s numerous other non self-ruling colonies.

So if Britain were to enter this war, a quarter of the globe would follow.

It would be a world war.

But Grey was working around the clock night and day to stop that possibility.

Tanaka sat at her desk on stand-by.

Never had she dreamed that she would be so close to history being made.

That evening of August 3rd 1914, a friend of Grey’s the journalist John Alfred Spender the editor of the Westminster Gazette came to join the Foreign Secretary in his office.

Just as the sun was going down, the phone rang.

“It’s the German Ambassador to London,” Grey whispered to Spender as Tanaka read his lips.

Grey listened and said nothing.

Then he hung up the phone.

His face turned ashen white and he stood up and went to the window and looked out saying nothing.

Spender, concerned about his friend’s health and mental state, decided to break the silence by pointing out that beyond Saint James’ Park (which the Foreign Office window faced) “the first of the gas lights along the Mall are being lit.”

Whatever Grey was meditating on was broken by the statement.

Grey turned to look at his friend, blinked and said, “What was that?”.

Spender repeated, “It’s dusk. And the first of the gas lights along the Mall are being lit.”

Grey turned to look and then remarked sadly, “The lights are going out all over Europe. And we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime.”

Tanaka had gone home that night.

She stood looking down at the sink below her mirror.

And as her own light shone brightly below her mirror, Grey’s words came back to haunt her, “The lights are going out all over Europe. And we shall not see them lit again in our lifetime.”

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 28th
2020.

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Morrigan In Cornwall

May 21, 2020 at 10:50 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mythology, Poetry, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

Morrigan In Cornwall

Along the cliffs she walked 
While a raven flew by
Morrigan the Irish Celtic goddess of war 
Beneath where she walked was the surging tide 
watery grave of many a sailor that died 
Behind her was wood of ancient fallen tree
Cast over these cliffs in storm that shattered tranquility 

These were the shores of Cornwall wild 
where wild desolate moors and cliffs of smugglers’ coves beguiled 
Not far from here was the Arthurian legend born
A brief ray of hope in a land forlorn 

Far far north of here were the mists of Avalon
Where the Arthurian sun set after Arthur was gone 
Now this land along with the world was pandemic bound 
So here far from eerie silence of death was bird cry and raging surf sound 

Like many immortals from ancient pantheons Morrigan returned to walk the earth 
when guns of August 1914 heralded a bloody rebirth 
A century of war 
and blood galore
Fascism, Nazism and Communism 
A three headed cobra with deadly fangs it bore 
Never far from human hearts the poison surged to the planet’s very core 

And now Mother Earth itself was filled with hate
A virus arose of deadly destiny and most fatal of fate 
Floods and cyclones now arose in the midst of May 
Were earthquakes now on the way neath skies so gray?

And war itself may not be far behind
That fiery red horse so insidiously unkind
Ares was still stomping his feet 
waiting for Morrigan to pick up the beat

-A poem and vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Thursday May 21st
2020.

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Dorian Gray and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

May 19, 2020 at 10:57 pm (Art, Arts, Gothic, Gothic romance, Horror, Literature, Mystery, Mystery/horror, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Dorian Gray and The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka

The Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka was walking through the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London.

It was a private visit as the Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery still hadn’t been granted permission by the UK government to publicly open during lockdown.

As Dashwood Forrest hurried back to his office because his office phone was ringing, the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka continued to walk down the halls of the gallery.

She entered a room marked PRIVATE as Forrest told her to treat the gallery as if it were her own home.

She noticed nothing in the room except for a pair of purple velvet curtains.

She opened the curtains and behind them were two portrait oil paintings. 

One was a portrait of a young man.

And the other was a portrait of a teddy bear.

She recognized the young man in the portrait.

His name was Dorian Gray.

For the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka was an immortal.

In the summer of 1878, she had ridden a rare creature- a white buffalo- and as a result of that experience she became immortal.

That autumn, she had gone to London, England where she had lived ever since.

Also that autumn, she had met a dashing young man by the name of Dorian Gray.

After a whirlwind tour of sights and spots throughout England with Dorian, Tanaka thought that she was in love.

Dorian had invited her down to the seaside holiday spot of Brighton with him.

The Lakota Sioux Princess was sure that Dorian was going to ask her to marry him.

Dorian proposes marriage to the Lakota Sioux Princess Tanaka on the seashore at Brighton.

Tanaka said yes.

Later in Dorian’s hotel room, she went into his bedroom as he was out in the hall chatting to the bell boy.

She was shocked to discover a bunch of female human heads – all of them beautiful (for Dorian Gray did not have the exceptionally high IQ of a Pan Goatee) and perfectly preserved stored in jars of formaldehyde.

“Dorian!” She exclaimed when he walked back into the room, “What are these?”.

Dorian looked shocked and bit his lip, “Er… Um… You know how some people like collecting beautiful butterflies or beautiful seashells or beautiful autumn leaves or beautiful pressed flowers, I… um… like collecting heads of beautiful women.”

“But that’s sick!” Tanaka was shocked.

“But I’ve been invited to the Rothschild’s masked ball dinner party every year for the past 18 years!” Dorian protested, “How can you call someone who’s been invited to the Rothschild masked ball dinner party for that long sick?”.

Tanaka left slamming the door behind her.

“Does this mean the engagement is off?” Dorian called out from the balcony of his hotel room as she entered a horse carriage and the carriage drove away.

Dorian and Tanaka never saw one another again.

Later she heard the body of an unknown old man stabbed in the heart was found in Dorian Gray’s house in London.

Dorian himself was never seen again.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday May 19th
2020.

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The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter

May 6, 2020 at 11:23 pm (Arts, Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, International Intrigue, Literature, Mystery, News, Poetry, Spy Tales, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , )

The Inspector and The Baker’s Daughter


“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

A day began like any other for the Inspector
Yet no ordinary day 
These are no ordinary times
Covid-19 pandemic in world.

2 days ago police in Beijing
arrested a professor 
Chen Zhaozhi 
Former professor at the Beijing University of Science and Technology 
for calling Covid-19 
The Chinese Communist Party Virus

But Beijing’s arrest did not concern the French police detective 
What concerned the Paris police detective was a matter that concerned
The Paris Grand Orient Lodge
For British MP Renfield R. Renfield
had sent a confidential report today 
to a French and European politician
The Kraken who called himself Napoleon VI
The leader of the French Aquarian Age Bonapartist Party 

French President Macron had ordered surveillance of the Kraken’s
emails and text messages
And today Renfield had sent the Kraken 
a confidential report 
which was said to be from Five Eyes
The joint intelligence service of the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom
The report claimed that the Covid-19 virus
Was indeed a virus that had accidentally escaped from the Wuhan Institute of Virology

At an emergency meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge
Isis, Osiris and Horus 
demanded to know 
whether the Renfield report 
was an actual copy of a Five Eyes 
Intelligence Report 
or whether the whole report was a 
piece of Renfieldian disinformation
designed to prevent Emmanuel Macron 
from ordering take out deliveries of Chinese food in Paris

A person that the Paris Police Inspector 
thought might know
was Marmalade Montague
a baker and a man 
from whom the Kraken bought 
his croissant rolls and Chinese hot steamed buns 

The Paris inspector himself used to buy his cinnamon buns from Marmalade Montague
Montague had recently been thrown out of his bakery 
for lack of payment of rent
due to decline in business 
during the Paris Covid-19 lockdown 
However the inspector decided to visit Montague’s apartment 
Perhaps the baker still lived there
As the building’s landlord had died 
from the Covid-19 virus and his estate was still up in the air

The Inspector entered the apartment
As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed hot cinnamon buns lying on the counter
So the inspector stopped and ate one
He ended up eating all 6 dozen.

The Inspector received a text message on his smart phone 
saying that Marmalade Montague kept poison in his bathroom medicine cabinet.
He went to check out the medicine cabinet 
The bathroom door was still open 
And that’s when the Inspector noticed Marmalade Montague’s lovely daughter Irene
sitting in a chair 
in a corner of the living room 

“Are you looking for something, Inspector?” The girl asked him.

“I was told your father kept poison in his medicine cabinet,” the inspector replied.
“He did but it’s no longer there,” Irene told him.
“Where is it?” The inspector asked.
“I added it to my dad’s recipe for his famous cinnamon buns that I left on the kitchen counter,” Irene answered.

The Inspector never did show up to that evening’s non-social distancing meeting of the Grand Orient Lodge.
A copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s short story Murders In The Rue Morgue was sent to the meeting
with a notation on the page 
before the title page 
that this was where the Inspector was to be found.

-A narrative poem
and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday May 6th
2020.

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