Friday The 13th Harvest Moon

September 13, 2019 at 10:59 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, News, Poetry, Romance, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Friday the 13th Harvest Moon

Try not to think of this as your death,
The vampiress approached,
It’s just another harvest moon,
She glimmered in the full light of the moon,
Her hair, her gown,
She was luminous,
An angel of light….

“Bat out of Hell…” Meatloaf sang on the radio…
“Could be one and the same thing,”
The vampiress laughed as she approached,
“But it is just another harvest moon…”

“A Friday the 13th Harvest Moon,” said the man tied up in the chair,
“A black cat crossed my path today,
I walked under a ladder,
I crossed knives,
I looked a Greek tycoon’s gift horse in the mouth today at the racetrack
And I ran a hockey goalie named Jason over with my car today
getting my tires slashed in the process.”

“I understand there’s a werewolf howling in the rainforests of the Amazon tonight,” the vampiress smiled,
“On this harvest moon,”
She continued to sing.

“The werewolf would be Magog Rhys Petley,”
said the man,
“A London based Welsh private eye bitten by a snake’s head named Rahu during a lunar eclipse many years ago,
Turned the poor fellow into a werewolf for some reason,
Lev Tomi hired him to find out who’s setting fire to the Amazon rainforests
And now he’s howling away under a harvest moon.”

“On this harvest moon,” the vampiress sang.

“I wonder if Neil Young would like your cover,” the man said.

The vampiress’ gown fell off her shoulders on to the floor.

“I guess he would,” smiled the man, 
“he’d probably like you under cover as well.”

“And what about you, Inspector Depp?” The vampiress asked the Scotland Yard detective, “Would you like me under cover?”.

“It’s a Friday the 13th Harvest Moon,” Depp answered, “Why not?”.

The vampiress bit his neck, drained all his blood and left him for dead.

“Like Britain after Halloween,” the vampiress laughed.

She walked out into the night where she was followed by a black jaguar with silver eyes.

The vampiress walked to the clock tower of Big Ben.

She turned and faced the Jaguar.

She once again dropped her gown.

The Black Jaguar turned into a man who made love to her.

And the bells of Big Ben, which were supposed to be silent while being repaired, started playing the tune, 
“On this Harvest Moon…”

-A poem and vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday September 13th
2019.

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Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

September 3, 2019 at 11:01 pm (Aesthetics, Art, Arts, Fantasy, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, History, Horror, International Intrigue, magic, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Philosophy, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , )

Dashwood Forrest, The Empty Portrait and Hurricane Dorian

Dashwood Forrest sat in his office in his art gallery in London and quietly sipped a drink of absinthe.

The Green Fairy as it was called was one of the favourite drinks of his idol the writer, novelist, poet and playwright Oscar Wilde.

Forrest’s living dead Irish manservant Mulligan the Irish zombie (who had been brought back from the dead many years ago by South African witch doctor Dr. Sterling Makabo) was out for the evening.

Mulligan had been hired for the evening by British MP Renfield R. Renfield to haunt the residence of British Labour Party leader Jeremy Corbyn and stand outside the back entrance of Corbyn’s lodgings and say in a spookily haunting zombie voice (with an Irish lilt to it), “The Irish backstop ends at your back door, Mr. Corbyn. The Irish backstop ends at your backdoor.”

As Jeremy Corbyn began to suffer the worst nightmares of his life, Forrest finished his glass of absinthe, left his office and locked it.

He walked down to the end of the gallery where he entered a room marked PRIVATE.

No one (not even Mulligan the Irish zombie) ever entered that room.

Only he Dashwood Forrest art historian, art gallery curator and extraordinary gentleman of many talents ever entered that room.

For that room contained a portrait behind purple velvet curtains.

A portrait of a man.

A portrait of a man painted in the year 1860.

A portrait that was first mentioned in a book published in July 1890.

A book that most people (and even Dashwood Forrest himself for most of his life) had considered a work of fiction.

Until Forrest came across the painting in an estate sale back in October of 2012.

The picture was of a man named… Dorian Gray.

And the artist who signed the picture was named Basil Hallward.

The painting was of an extremely handsome young man in his early 20s.

Exactly as described in Oscar Wilde’s famous Gothic Philosophical novel of the 19th Century- The Picture of Dorian Gray.

Forrest drew back the purple velvet curtains that covered the painting and hid it from view.

Forrest got the shock of his life when he saw the portrait was empty.

There was no subject in the painting.

Dorian Gray was gone.

. . .

Forrest stared blankly at the blank canvas and blinked.

His smart phone went off.

It was a text message from his friend Amadeus Emanon.

A Set Enterprises satellite over the Bahamas had photographed the eye of the storm of Hurricane Dorian.

And a giant mysterious almost human figure seemed to be standing and moving with the eye of the storm in the hurricane.

Forrest again blinked.

For the figure was the spitting image of Dorian Gray.

The figure now missing from the painting.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Tuesday September 3rd
2019.


Sibyl: She loved Dorian in vain.

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Sherrielock Holmes and The Raven

August 25, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Folklore, Gothic, Gothic romance, Romance, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

Sherrielock Holmes and The Raven

The year was 1899.

And Sherrielock Holmes (the dominatrix lesser known twin sister of world famous consulting detective Sherlock Holmes) was walking in the park with her scientist husband Dr. Louis Rocher (who, unbeknownst to both, was in fact the illegitimate son of the evil Prof. James Moriarty).

Dr. Rocher was demonstrating his latest invention – a camera capable of taking colour photos.

He took a picture of Sherrielock with a boastful talking raven who claimed to be the inspiration behind Edgar Allan Poe’s 1845 poem The Raven (a claim which if true the raven looked very good for his age).

He then took a picture of Sherrielock with a guinea pig.

Sherrielock was told by the raven that a close friend of the guinea pig- a red fox (who was a vegetarian- rare for his species) was in mortal danger.

The next day Sherrielock and Louis went to nearby woods and parkland to foil the fox hunt led by the notorious British fox hunter Lord Plumelington of Nausea in an effort to save the life of the guinea pig’s friend.

Lord Plumelington who was a practitioner of the dark arts had invoked Njord the Norse god of the winds to stop anyone from opposing his fox hunt.

Winds and water encircled Sherrielock like a typhoon.

A moment that Dr. Louis Rocher managed to capture on film.

And Sherrielock who was a skilled dominatrix became the first person in history to whip the wind.

She then jumped on a white horse and rode like the wind to upset Lord Plumelington of Nausea’s fox hunt sending his hounds scattering in every direction.

Sherrielock was indeed a true heroine and the fox was saved.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher 
Sunday August 25th
2019.

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The House On The Hill: A Poem

May 21, 2019 at 9:56 pm (Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic poem, Gothic romance, Poetry) (, , )

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.

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Notre Dame Reflections

April 17, 2019 at 9:29 pm (Culture, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, History, International Intrigue, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

“Hold the Cross high so I may continue to see it through the flames.”

-Joan of Arc

France’s national leader Emmanuel Macron held a somewhat different opinion than that held by France’s national saint when it comes to dealing with situations regarding fire.

The globalist New World Order leader and noted admirer of cougars who was promising to rebuild Notre Dame within 5 years (just in time for the 2024 Summer Olympics that Mr. Macron naturally visualized himself presiding over) thought that the new Notre Dame should reflect multicultural diversity rather than Catholicism.

Fortunately for Mr. Macron, he was not alone in holding to such idiocy.

One of the editors of Rolling Stone magazine likewise postulated that a rebuilt Notre Dame should reflect multiculturalism and multifaith diversity rather than the country’s Catholic past.

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster safely prophesied that the editor would not be calling on the Islamic mosques at Mecca and Medina to do the same thing- that the mosques should be rebuilt to reflect multiculturalism and multifaith diversity rather than the country’s Islamic past.

Said Renfield, “That is a safe prophecy to make. The rolling stoned editor knows that if he were to bloody well suggest that, he’d find himself being bodily dismembered by Saudi assassins who work part time as janitorial staff at Saudi embassies and consulates throughout the world.”

A professor of architecture at Harvard University had likewise suggested much the same thing- that Notre Dame should be a multicultural center rather than a symbol of Catholicism.

Noted Renfield, “Just last week I heard a commentator on the state of advanced education in the U.S. say that Harvard and Yale are no longer the institutions of culture and higher learning that they used to be. I guess that assessment is 100% correct.”

One reporter on the scene at Notre Dame commented, “The day after the night before at Notre Dame de Paris, the High Altar stands untouched with its gleaming Cross, along with the figure of the weeping Madonna holding her dead son Jesus in her arms. Meanwhile the modern altar installed after Vatican II lays buried under rubble from the collapsed roof.”

Pope Francis had already retreated to his room in the Vatican to put on sackcloth and ashes upon hearing what had happened to the modern altar.

Government surveyors from Emmanuel Macron’s office were already on the scene visualizing the rebuilding of the new Notre Dame- a statue of an Islamic State terrorist blowing himself up along with statues of tourists at a Parisienne sidewalk cafe being killed by the debris, a statue of Mormon Church founder Joseph Smith Jr. rolling a marijuana joint with the angel Moroni and statues of L. Ron Hubbard eloping with Jack Parsons’ mistress while Aleister Crowley looks on approvingly.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday April 17th
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 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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Lilith, Putin, Golgotha and The Golem of Prague

February 21, 2019 at 11:56 pm (Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Espionage, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Lilith was on her vast estate near Astana the capital city of Kazakhstan.

It was there that she had hidden the Golem of Prague that she had stolen (with the help of Count Dracula) from the attic of the Old New Synagogue in Prague.

She would be having a video phone conferencing call with the Presidents of Russia, Turkey, Iran and Venezuela to show them the body of the captured Golem.

The Black Dragon (the supernatural entity who was the leading advisor to Chinese President Xi Jinping) would be flying in from Beijing in his flying dragon form to personally see the Golem for himself.

There were rumours that Russian President Vladimir Putin would likewise be flying in from Moscow to personally see the Golem for himself.

As Lilith sat in her living room drinking cocktails, her vampiress daughter Golgotha stood guard on a portion of her mother’s Nouveau Babylon estate as it was called to prevent Britain’s MI-6 or Israel’s Mossad from retaking the Golem.

She sat there looking positively resplendent in the woods of the estate.

Wandering through the woods was Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing who had been sent to this Estate by MP Renfield R. Renfield who was the co-chair of the British House of Commons Covert Intelligence Committee and was working with the Israeli government to get the golem returned to Prague.

“Mr. Van Helsing,” Golgotha greeted him, “don’t you know you’re trespassing on private property? You could use a spanking for your behaviour.”

Van Helsing had to admit that she was probably right.

So he took off his clothes and lay across her red skirted and black silk nylon lap where she administered a good sound thorough walloping.

They then had tantric sex afterwards.

. . .

“Why the Hell isn’t that bastard answering his mobile phone?” Renfield R. Renfield swore as he sat in the office of French President Emmanuel Macron, “I bet that bastard is busy having tantric sex with someone.”

Macron looked up from the tour guide book he was reading entitled The Best Place To Find Cougars In Paris and blinked before asking, “Tantric sex? Dracul Van Helsing is having tantric sex?”.

“Most likely,” Renfield’s face turned redder than the cover of the booklet Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-tung, “That’s what happens when you watch too many James Bond movies with either Sean Connery or Roger Moore playing Bond when you’re a teen-ager, you’re forever horny.”

“I wonder if that works when you’re older as well,” Macron applied some more mascara to his eyelashes, “I should go take a look at my video library.”

. . .

The Greek god of the sea Poseidon looked at the statue of himself at the Fountain of Neptune in Florence, Italy.

“I do have to admit that’s a very good likeness,” Poseidon commented through mouthfuls of seafood linguini.

“And like me, he doesn’t have his trident,” Poseidon remarked wistfully.

For his trident had been stolen by Atargatis the ancient northern Syrian mermaid goddess.

. . .

The ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith stood outside her house waiting for Vladimir Putin’s helicopter and the Black Dragon of Beijing to arrive.

The Red Army helicopter and the Black Dragon arrived at the same time crashing into one another.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” Golgotha shrieked in sheer joyful ecstasy from the other side of the Estate.

“It appears my daughter Golgotha has finally inherited my bloodlust,” Lilith thought to herself.

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

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