100 More Days Till Halloween…

July 23, 2021 at 10:58 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Mythology, News, Sorcery, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

“This is Jack Anderson at Terror 97 FM in London- the radio station that keeps you in stitches – a la style of Dr. Victor Frankenstein’s creation. This just in from Canada… Earlier today genetically created satyr serial killer Pan Goatee slew two more ugly women in a Dollarama store in Calgary. And now here’s Air Supply singing their coming Halloween hit Two Less Ugly People In The World…”

. . .

There was a state of excitement prevailing in the Vatican among the city state’s wide assortment of Jesuit priests for word had come to pass that the demon Baphomet was going to address them at A Come As You Are convention in the Vatican Sauna Steam Bath House named Hyacinth Sizzles Apollo’s Swizzle Stick.

Meanwhile in the Papal Apartments, Pope Francis was consulting with one of his leading theological advisors Walter Cardinal Kasper.

“Your Unholiness,” Kasper addressed Bergoglio by his most appropriate title, “a group of flying saucer UFOs containing 6.66 feet tall T-Rex ET reptilians have landed within the walls of the Vatican.”

“What for?” Francis asked as he licked a Spartan Greek popsicle.

“We’re not sure,” Kasper answered.

. . .

British Prime Minister Boris Johnson had been hiding inside a tomb in London’s Highgate Cemetery ever since British MP Renfield R. Renfield publicly called for the 10 Downing Street occupant’s assassination this past Wednesday.

The colourful and controversial MP had issued the assassination call after the Zombie Nosferatu Tory Prime Minister (whose forehead had been etched with the words I AM AN APOSTLE OF THE ANTICHRIST in red felt ink) announced this past Wednesdy that he intended to introduce a vaccine passport in Britain next month.

Bishop Sean Manchester the traditionalist Old Catholic Church Bishop of Glastonbury and a leading exorcist was walking around the cemetery amidst reports that a vampire was once again haunting the cemetery for the first time in 51 years.

As Johnson sat inside the tomb with sweat on his forehead, the ghost of Karl Marx (looking well roasted) appeared alongside him and asked him, “How’s it going?”.

. . .

Yaldabaoth the Irish Leprechaun was in Highgate Cemetery eating cold mutton sandwiches and drinking Guinness beer.

He was listening to Terror 97 FM London on his old 1970s style transistor radio.

The radio was playing a commercial and a Halloween holiday jingle, “100 more days till Halloween… Silver Shamrock.”

A hand holding a silver shamrock suddenly appeared out of the ground near the old gravestone where Yaldabaoth was having his evening picnic totally freaking the wee leprechaun out.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Friday July 23rd
2021.

Permalink 4 Comments

Easter Morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery

April 24, 2011 at 7:15 pm (Commentary, Mystery, Mystery/horror, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Three of the heavy metal rocker Stryker’s groupies were in a London fish and chips shop nursing a hangover from the night before.

One girl opened up her purse and two of the other girls screamed, “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! You’ve got a penis in there.”

“How the Hell did that get in there?” the girl who was blonde scratched her head.

“I know, I know,” shouted the redhead, “you picked it up two nights ago after the rock star Stryker had his penis cut off by that guy who then turned into a hamster and scurried outside the nightclub.”

“I thought this extra large popsicle was taking a long time to suck,” the blonde sighed.

“It was no popsicle,” said the brunette, “like Miranda here just said, it’s Stryker’s penis.”

“Oh, my God,” the blonde hit her forehead, “oh, what a dummy. oh, what a dummy.”

“We really should return it to Stryker,” said the brunette Vivian.

“But he’s dead isn’t he?” said the blonde named Candy.

“I heard that recording executive guy Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell tell the bouncers at the nightclub to bury Stryker in his own tomb at Highgate Cemetery,” Miranda the redhead spoke up.

“Let’s go and open Stryker’s coffin and put his penis back in,” said Vivian, “a guy like that shouldn’t be buried without his penis.”

“But how are we going to get into the tomb and into the coffin?” Candy asked.

“Don’t ask such questions,” Miranda slapped her, “this is no time for you to be developing a high IQ now.”

* * *

Many eyebrows were raised among various people in London’s Highgate Cemetery on this Easter morning as three very beautiful young women wearing extra short micro mini skirts and sexy pantyhose and sexy spiked stiletto high-heeled shoes entered the cemetery.

They asked one of the cemetery grounds keepers where Heathcliff Dionysus Campbell’s tomb was located and he pointed them in the right direction.

They passed by a British bank executive who was busy vomiting on Karl Marx’s tombstone that had on it the epitaph WORKERS OF ALL LANDS UNITE.

They approached the Campbell mausoleum.

The door was open.

“Look the door is open,” Miranda ran in.

“The coffin is empty,” said Candy who followed close on her heels.

“They’ve stolen Stryker’s body!” Vivian exclaimed, “The bastards!”.

* * *

Miranda stood at the empty coffin and wept.

“Miranda,’ a voice behind her gently said.

Miranda turned and saw a figure standing there.

“Please tell me where they have taken my rock lord’s body,” Miranda begged as she grabbed the stranger’s leg, “I won’t tell the authorities.”

“Miranda,” the figure opened his robe, “do you know where my penis is?.”

Miranda screamed and ran out of the mausoleum.

* * *

And thus had the death heavy metal rock star Stryker risen from the dead on this Easter Sunday morn in London’s Highgate Cemetery.

And it seemed like all the doves had left London.

And the city was overflowing with crows.

And on the radio from a nearby apartment that had its window open… could be heard playing that old song from the old 1960s rock musical Hair, “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius… the Age of Aquarius…”

To be continued.

Permalink Leave a Comment