Renfield’s Dream of Hercule Poirot

May 4, 2017 at 4:12 pm (Arts, books, Detective story, Literature, Movies, Mystery, Politics, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Renfield R. Renfield was lying in his bed in the John Milton Blue Room (where John Milton and his daughter Anne once stayed) in a Bed and Breakfast in the town of Tewkesbury in Gloucestershire, England.

Renfield was running as a British Transhumanist Techno-Progressive Anti Bio-Conservative Party candidate in the constituency of Tewkesbury In The Cotswolds.

He was running against sitting incumbent British Conservative MP Agathor Christie (who was a great nephew by marriage of the famous British mystery writer Agatha Christie).

Renfield would soon be involved in a campaign debate against Mr. Agathor Christie.

As such, Renfield fell asleep dreaming about Agatha Christie’s famous Belgian detective sleuth character Hercule Poirot.

Hercule Poirot was staying in a huge mansion on a large English country estate.

Hercule and 24 other guests were enjoying a huge dinner party (Monsieur Poirot would have given Renfield’s friend Amadeus Emanon a run for his money about who was able to eat the most).

After the dinner, most of the other guests had retired to their rooms for this evening.

Hercule himself was in the drawing room enjoying a cigar and a glass of port.

Suddenly a gunshot was heard coming from upstairs.

Followed by a woman’s scream.

The butler entered the drawing room, “Sorry to disturb, sir, but it appears that His Lordship has been murdered.”

“Damn,” Poirot remarked.

He was really starting to enjoy his port and his cigar and the comfort of his easy chair.

Reluctantly the Belgian detective made his way upstairs to the crime scene.

“Wait,” Monsieur Poirot in his thick francophonic sounding Belgian accent instructed the guests as he entered the room, “please, touch nothing.”

Hercule Poirot
“Wait, please touch nothing.”

It was a little late for such instructions.

One guest was already examining the murder victim’s head. Another was holding and examining the victim’s right arm. Guest #3 was holding and examining the victim’s left arm. Guest #4 was holding and examining the victim’s right leg. Guest #5 was examining and holding the victim’s left leg. Guest #6 (whom ladies at the dinner party referred to as “the trollop in the little red dress”) was undoing the victim’s zipper on his pants with her mouth.

Guest #7 had picked up and examined the revolver lying on the floor. Guest #8 had picked up and examined the bloodied knife lying on the coffee table. The French maid was examining the open bottle of pills on the bedroom dresser. Guest #9 was examining the open bottle of poison in the medicine cabinet.

Guest #10 had poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher of water on the reading lamp table and promptly keeled over dead after drinking it.

Guest #11 was examining the hangman’s noose hanging from the ceiling. Guest #12 was examining the bloodied chainsaw lying on the bloodied carpet by the desk. Guest #13 was under a ladder trying to retrieve a black cat that was behind the ladder.

Guest #14 was examining a bloodied samurai sword on the desk. Guest #15 was examining a pair of bloodied candlesticks by the fireplace.

And Guests #16 to 23 were examining, handling and imbibing the bottles that were the contents of His Lordship’s private liquor cabinet.

Then Renfield woke up.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday May 4th

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Much Ado About The Orient Express

April 17, 2017 at 4:38 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mystery, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

As Pan Goatee was about to board the train, he noticed a fat ugly looking blimp of a woman getting off in front of him.

She resembled a fat cow having a bad bovine face day.

Pan Goatee promptly took out his laser machete and cut her head off.

As he kicked the head off into the gutter and boarded the train, he thought about a movie he had watched a few nights earlier- Murder On The Orient Express set in the early 1930s.

Why Pan Goatee wondered, would anyone want to commit a murder on the Orient Express in those days?

They had no ugly women or very little at any rate back in the 1930s.

Not like this horrendous second decade of the 21st Century where ugly women were everywhere- at least in the Western world- trains, planes and automobiles.

Meanwhile in Istanbul, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan was celebrating his referendum win yesterday which gave greater powers to his Presidency paving the way to his becoming the new Sultan of a revived Ottoman Empire.

Erdogan was so happy that he thought the original Orient Express railway route between Paris and Istanbul should be revived again.

Meanwhile in London, dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes was taking a British Conservative MP Agathor Christie a great nephew of Agatha Christie (author of Murder On The Orient Express) grocery shopping with her.

Dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes Grocery Shopping With Agathor Christie

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 17th

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Haiku About H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu

March 16, 2017 at 7:05 pm (Horror, Literature, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Poetry, The Supernatural) (, , , )

Lovecraft’s creation
But here’s what’s most horrifying
it’s real and alive

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A Night In The Life of Lepardia Marango

March 7, 2017 at 8:06 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , )

Lepardia Marango ran down the street in her purple mini dress and purple spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes.

Lepardia who was the cultural attache at the South African Embassy in London had been spending her Tuesday night clubbing with some friends.

She thought it was safe to do so since the next full moon was 5 days away.

For Lepardia had the misfortune of being a were-leopard (a person who turns into a leopard during the full moon) having been bitten by a were-leopard 7 years ago in South Africa.

There were other circumstances when Lepardia would turn into a were-leopard besides during a full moon.

One was being in the presence of a powerful witch.

As far as she knew, there were no powerful witches at the club she was at.

Little did Lepardia know that Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft was in London visiting Apollo the Greek sun god who had spent the past couple of months in London.

And both of the Greek immortals had been at the Dionysus or Bust (of Aphrodite) Club tonight where Lepardia had been celebrating a friend’s birthday.

Subsequently Lepardia felt herself turning into a were-leopard.

She immediately left her startled friends and went running out the back door of the club.

Desperately she searched the streets of London for a place that sold buttermilk.

For she had discovered there was some sort of antidote to her condition in buttermilk that prevented her transformation.

She ran into a small grocery.

A taxi driver had moments before just bought the last carton of buttermilk.

He was delivering it to the British House of Commons at Westminster where there was a lot of howling going on quite literally on the Opposition Labour Party backbenches.

The howling was coming from Welsh werewolf British Labour MP Magog Rhys Petley who had visited the Dionysus or Bust (of Aphrodite) Club earlier tonight.

Lepardia felt herself turning into a were-leopard.

“Oh, God, no,” Lepardia said to herself.

Then from around the corner, she smelled the sweet smell of buttermilk.

She ran around the corner and pounced.

She eagerly drank from the carton and then ran back around the corner… transforming from leopard to Lepardia again.

“That leopard stole my buttermilk,” Amadeus Emanon pointed out the empty carton to his friend and co-employee Renfield R. Renfield.

“It could have been worse,” Renfield ate a tuna fish sandwich, “she could have stolen my tuna fish sandwiches.”

Lepardia meantime had hailed a cab and was on her way back to the club.

Lepardia Marango The Were-Leopardess

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday March 7th

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NASA, The Zohar and The Seven-Planet Star System

March 6, 2017 at 3:41 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

The Mossad agent they called The Controller of the Golem was back in Jerusalem.

He had spent months recovering in a private London hospital (connected to Set Enterprises) after he had been poisoned with Polonium-210 given him by the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith.

Now he was reading a report that a group of fanatically inclined Kabbalistic Jews were intending to blow up the Dome on the Rock and the Mosque of Omar and replace it with a Third Jewish Temple.

What was bringing about the action was NASA’s discovery of a 7-planet star system with its Spitzer space telescope.

The dwarf star called Trappist-1 (39 light years away from Earth) had 7 planets orbiting it.

The trouble was that the Zohar (the foundational work of Jewish mysticism) predicted the appearance of a star with seven “stars” orbiting it prior to the arrival of the Messiah…

… a star will rise up in the East, blazing in all colours, and seven other stars will surround that star. And they will wage war on it.

Now one sect was convinced that NASA’s announcement was proof of this star system predicted in the Zohar.

The Messiah wouldn’t be far behind.

Well, the Controller sighed, he didn’t know about the Messiah but he had the feeling Hell on Earth was just around the corner.

Lilith The Vampiress

Lilith: One glass of Polonium-210 this day
will send the coroner heading your way

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday March 6th

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Sherlock Holmes and The Zohar

March 5, 2017 at 4:47 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Religion, The Supernatural) (, , , , , , , )

Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was having a dream about Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr. Watson. In the dream, Holmes said to Watson:

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

According to the Zohar the foundational text of Jewish mysticism, Watson, a seven-star system similar to our own will be discovered and then all Hell shall break loose.

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Hecate In The Vatican

March 2, 2017 at 7:43 pm (Detective story, Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Religion, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , )

Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and Peter Whitstable the Fox Mulder of Interpol were busy walking the halls of the Vatican.

Unofficially of course.

Since Dracul Van Helsing had been banned from the Vatican for calling German Cardinal Walter Kasper a heretic (even though he is one!).

Dracul Van Helsing had written a Monty Python Lumberjack Song style script in which Cardinal Kasper had gone around singing, “Oh, I’m a heretic and I’m okay.”

Cardinal Kasper was not amused.

And neither was his boss Pope Francis.

Van Helsing and Whitstable were in the Vatican because they had been informed by sources in the know that Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft, necromancy and sorcery had been seen wandering the halls of the Vatican.

“Well,” Dracul commented, “no doubt Alexander Hislop the author of The Two Babylons is dancing with joy in his grave at the fact that Hecate has been spotted wandering the halls of the Vatican..’

Hecate had been spotted in the Vatican in each one of her three forms- maiden, matron and crone.

“This,” Whitstable opened the door to the room of the enigmatic Cardinal JM, “is the room from which Hecate first emerged according to our source.”

Van Helsing and Whitstable entered the room which was empty of any Crosses, Crucifixes or statues of Mary and the Saints.

There on the Cardinal’s altar was an unusual assembly of paraphernalia.

“That doesn’t look like Greek sorcery there,” said Whitstable, “it looks more like Haitian voodoo.”

“It does,” Van Helsing agreed,

“And there appears to be a photo of some Cardinal whose image has been made into a voodoo doll stuck with pins,” Whitstable pointed, “Do you recognize the Cardinal, Dracul?”.

“It’s Raymond Leo Cardinal Burke,” Dracul replied, “the former Patron of the Sovereign Military Order of Malta.”

“What did he do to inspire Cardinal JM’s hatred?” Whitstable asked.

“I don’t know,” Dracul Van Helsing shrugged, “but it appears there’s something rotten in the state of the Vatican.”

Meanwhile in his suite in the Kremlin, Russian President Vladimir Putin was dreaming of a vision he had encountered in the forest outside Moscow last autumn.

The vision was of Hecate in her maiden form handing him a crystal ball in the shape of a purple globe of the world.

Hecate The Greek Goddess of Witchcraft In Her Maiden Form

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

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Part II Phantasm: A Gothic Horror Poem

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ghost of Anna Li

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

She walked towards Sherlock Holmes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Phantasm: A Gothic Horror Poem

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To be continued.

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

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Memories of Yesterday and Today

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

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

She stopped in her tracks.

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

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

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

Her father looked at Beth.

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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