The Headless Horseman’s Halloween

October 31, 2019 at 10:58 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , )

The Headless Horseman’s Halloween

Friedrich Wotan Wiesbaden the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow was sitting in a booth in the lounge in the Saint James Court Hotel in London along with his zombie black horse Bucephalus Reborn.

Both had managed to escape last night from the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s pet attack cat Nefertiti Galore by running down a back alley.

The alley was then blown up by an Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi impersonator who whimpered like a dog and then detonated a suicide vest.

Nefertiti Galore managed to dodge the falling rubble and then went around the corner and had a plate of Fish and Chips at a nearby Fish and Chips shop.

The Headless Horseman and his horse went from the back alley (now blocked by rubble at the street entrance) through the back door of a professional live theatre where they joined the cast of Shakespeare’s Richard III in taking a bow and a curtain call at the end of their performance.

One of the actresses remarked to the actor who played Richard III, “It looks like your horse arrived a little too late.”

The actor who played Richard III remarked to the Headless Horseman, “I’d have given you my kingdom if you had arrived a little sooner.”

The impromptu remarks were met with vigorous applause from the audience.

The Headless Horseman and Bucephalus Reborn then walked to the Saint James Court Hotel where they had booked a room for a couple of nights.

Now they were spending Halloween having drinks in the lounge and dancing with costumed patrons.

Someone dressed as a Vatican Cardinal entered the lounge.

“Authentic costume,” remarked the Headless Horseman who had borrowed a jack o’ lantern pumpkin from the hotel kitchen and put it on his shoulders so he could see.

“I really am a Vatican Cardinal,” answered Samhain Cardinal Salaman, “My flight to the Irish border has been delayed. I was supposed to perform the ancient Celtic Druidic Mass of Samhain this evening on the Irish border between north and south between 11:30 PM and 11:59 PM to forever bind the United Kingdom to the European Union so the whole continent can be under the Egyptian god Osiris when he becomes Pharaoh of the coming United States of Europe. Osiris, Maitreya the Himalayan serpent and golden cobra High King of Ireland are expecting me as are the demons Baal and Baphomet, the High Queen of Ireland who is the resurrected Egyptian Queen Cleopatra and no doubt Yaldabaoth the infamous intoxicated leprechaun who sleeps on the border.”

“Wow, well sit down and have a drink and drown your sorrows,” Friedrich ordered him a drink.

Buchephalus Reborn managed to drink both the Headless Horseman and the Vatican Cardinal under the table.

The Vatican Cardinal missed his next available flight.

And so the Celtic Druidic Mass was not said.

Allowing Britain a brief reprieve from the coming United States of Europe.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Thursday October 31st
2019.

One of the many beautiful women in the Saint James Court Hotel Lounge lucky enough to dance with the horse Bucephalus Reborn.

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Boris Johnson Adopts Renfield’s Plan For Brexit

October 2, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Boris Johnson Adopts Renfield’s Plan For Brexit

“Well, you certainly look as pleased as punch,” Amadeus Emanon remarked to his friend British MP Renfield R. Renfield as he walked through the door.

“I am,” Renfield helped himself to a glass of punch from the bowl of punch that Athelstan the butler had made.

“What brought this about?” Amadeus asked.

“Boris Johnson has adopted my plan that only Northern Ireland should be subject to the backstop rather than the entire United Kingdom,” Renfield grinned.

“And how exactly will that work?” Amadeus asked.

“Northern Ireland will stay in the European single market for goods,” Renfield replied, “and of course Johnson did add some touches of his own like the Stormont Assembly for Northern Ireland voting to adopt the arrangements first and then voting every four years on keeping them. But Northern Ireland would exit the customs union along with the rest of the UK under Johnson’s adaptations of my original plan. But the rest of the UK leaving the entire 
single market is my basic idea.”

“I see Jeremy Corbyn has said the plan is even worse than Theresa May’s plan for Brexit,” Amadeus noted.

“And it’s for that reason that I’ve officially nominated Jeremy Corbyn for the Jackass of The Year Award,” Renfield helped himself to a second glass of punch.

“The Liberal Democrats and the Scottish Nationalists are against it as well,” Amadeus added.

“The Liberal Democrats and the Scottish Nationalists are so full of shit that if you gave them all an enema before they died, you could bury them all in the same cigar box,” was Renfield’s final commentary for the night.

. . .

Yaldabaoth the Irish leprechaun was once again sleeping on the border that divided Northern Ireland from the south.

He was awakened by the sound of voices talking.

Yaldabaoth looked and noted a golden cobra walking alongside a green skinned man dressed as an Egyptian Pharaoh.

The leprechaun recognized the golden cobra as Maitreya who had crowned himself High King of Ireland at Tara on Saint Patrick’s Day of 2018.

He recognized the green skinned man dressed like an Egyptian Pharaoh as the god Osiris from pictures he had seen of the deity from an Egyptology course that the leprechaun had taken at Trinity College in Dublin many years ago.

“So,” Osiris boasted, “friends of mine have arranged for the Vatican Cardinal Samhain Cardinal Salaman to say the ancient Celtic Druidic Mass of Samhain this coming Halloween on the Republic of Ireland/Northern Ireland UK border to forever enslave all of Britain to the European Union of which I shall someday become Pharaoh.”

“So if I help you become Pharaoh of Europe,” Maitreya spoke, “I shall remain High King of Ireland once the Republic and the North join together as one.”

“That is correct,” Osiris nodded.

“What about this British MP Renfield R. Renfield?” Maitreya asked, “Won’t he put a damper in your plans?”.

“I shall have to find away to deal with this man who used to be Chief of Security and Intelligence Gathering for my brother Set,” Osiris seethed.

A text message went off on the green deity’s smart phone.

Osiris looked at it, “It’s from George Soros.”

“Is he afraid that Donald Trump has found out that the Democratic National Committee server was in fact based in Ukraine and that’s how it was so easy for the Russians to hack it?” Maitreya inquired.

“We shall see,” Osiris took the call.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday October 2nd
2019.

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Phoenix Diabolicus The Vicar of Lucifer

September 26, 2019 at 10:31 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Horror, International Intrigue, Mystery/horror, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Phoenix Diabolicus The Vicar of Lucifer

The figure of Phoenix Diabolicus (the demon who was the Vicar of Lucifer On Earth) emerged from his painting in the Vatican Art Collection.

Something that startled Samhain Cardinal Salaman.

The Cardinal had been told who was the subject of the painting but he had never expected the figure to come to life.

“Good evening, Cardinal Salaman,” said Phoenix Diabolicus.

The Cardinal was too shocked to say anything.

“I’m pleased with the way the world is going,” Phoenix Diabolicus stretched his long black wings which felt tired and sore after being kept cooped up in that painting for so long.

“Oh yes?” Cardinal Salaman was flicking through the pockets of his robes trying to find his Rosary (a gift to him from a Polish priest and an object he had never used before).

“Indeed,” Phoenix Diabolicus stroked his moustache, “A potential for civil war or Beijing military intervention emerging in the island of Hong Kong. Tensions running rampant in the United Kingdom over Brexit. The Democrats setting up an impeachment inquiry into Donald Trump only adding to the further polarization in that already polarized nation that is called the United States of America. And what’s really advantageous is there’s no Abraham Lincoln like figure in sight. So the divided house will fall. The State of Israel is in chaos. War looms between Saudi Arabia and Iran in the Middle East. And your own boss Pope Francis is paving the way for the worship of the spirits of the Amazon Rainforest next month totally oblivious to the fact that not all the spirits in the Amazon Rainforest are good. Or at least not good in the sense that Our Enemy On The Cross defines it.”

The figure of Phoenix Diabolicus stepped back in the painting.

And Samhain Cardinal Salaman stood there.

Unable to move.

. . .

Private eyes Magog Rhys Petley and Agathor Christie were trudging their way through the Amazon Rainforest.

They had recently been hired by Lev Tomi the Secretary-General of The United Nations Secretariat On The Environment and Climate Change to discover who had been setting the fires in the Amazon Rainforest this past summer.

Now they were in a dense little travelled section of the Amazon Rainforest.

“I hope our native guide knows his way back,” Agathor remarked.

“I hope our native guide isn’t a cannibal planning to eat us,” Magog stated as he wiped his sweating forehead with his handkerchief.

“That statement ranks of cultural imperialism,” Agathor the former British Conservative MP teased his Marxist friend the former Labour MP Magog.

“Being out here does that to a person,” Magog continued to wipe his brow.

Their guide bowed down to a tree.

“Must be a sacred tree,” Agathor remarked.

Magog pointed to a small carved figure standing at the base of the tree and asked, “What’s that?”.

“Father and Mother of All Life,” the native said in English as he bowed.

“Justin Trudeau would be pleased with this native’s feminist and transgendered sensibilities,” Magog remarked.

“Doesn’t that wooden idol look familiar?” Agathor asked.

Magog took a closer look and commented, “It looks like the Baphomet that supernatural entity worshipped by those Satanic Temple groups in the U.S. and Canada.”

“That’s because it is the Baphomet figure,” Agathor said as he put on his monocle and looked at it.

“Baphomet is worshipped by some of the natives here in the Amazon?” Magog was genuinely surprised.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday September 26th
2019.

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Allatallahbel In The Bathtub

August 6, 2019 at 10:24 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , )

Allatallahbel In The Bathtub

This sight greeted Samhain Cardinal Salaman when he walked into his apartment’s bathroom to take a bath.

It was Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.

“Allatallahbel!” Said an astounded Cardinal Salaman in his bathrobe dressing gown.

“Thinking of taking a bath?” She purred like a cat with the undertones of a lioness underneath.

“Well, I was…” Cardinal Salaman put down his shampoo and bath soap.

“I’ll let you take a bath eventually, your Eminence,” Allatallahbel stood up in her spiked stiletto high heeled shoes leaving indentations in the Cardinal’s bathtub, “but I want you to stroll the corridors of the Vatican with me first. There are things I want to show you.”

“You want me to stroll the corridors of the Vatican in my bath robe?” Cardinal Salaman inquired.

“I’ve seen clergymen running around the corridors of the Vatican wearing a lot less,” the vampiress smiled.

Cardinal Salaman had to admit that was true.

So Allatallahbel and the Cardinal went for a midnight stroll around the Vatican.

They saw the ghost of the late Soviet dictator Josef Stalin enter the apartment lodgings of Pope Francis.

“What are they doing meeting one another?” Cardinal Salaman was surprised.

“Stalin has been giving Francis some advice on how to restructure the John Paul II Institute in Rome,” Allatallahbel replied.

They entered a chapel where the demon Baphomet was playing jungle drums while a shaman from the Amazon rain forest did a sun dance.

They eventually got around to the high altar of Saint Peter’s Basilica where Amorous Laetita the familiar black cat of Hecate the Greek goddess of witchcraft lay asleep on the altar.

“I really don’t think it’s good for me to be here,” Cardinal Salaman remarked.

“What’s the matter, your Eminence?” Allatallahbel put a black painted fingernail against his lips, “Has the cat got your tongue?”.

The cardinal’s bathrobe fell to the floor.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday August 6th
2019.

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Samhain Cardinal Salaman and The Fountain

July 30, 2019 at 9:48 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) ()

Samhain Cardinal Salaman and The Fountain 

Vatican Cardinal Samhain Salaman (a former professional stage magician turned cardinal) was sitting in a Rome coffee bar drinking a cappuccino.

The coffee bar was across from a small fountain.

One of many scattered throughout the city.

Although the fountain did not have the famous name of the illustrious Fountain of Trevi, people still threw coins in the fountain and made wishes.

A small figure of Cupid being chased by a wolf stood atop the fountain.

Definitely unusual subject matter, Cardinal Salaman thought to himself as he sipped his cappuccino.

The cardinal often enjoyed sitting in this particular bar sipping a coffee beverage and watching the fountain and people throwing coins into it.

The place was far enough away from the Vatican itself that he didn’t have to worry about running into a cardinal or bishop.

Salaman found all the backstabbing and intrigue that went on around the Vatican a bit tiresome at times.

Here he could sit quietly and enjoy the Roman sun and watch people go by.

He had noticed yesterday what looked to be a type of seaweed growing around the statue of Cupid that he hadn’t noticed before.

Oddly enough the seaweed wasn’t growing on the statue of the wolf.

Today that seaweed seemed to have grown even more around Cupid’s statue particularly around his neck and gave the appearance of strangling the little cherub.

The sight made Cardinal Samhain think of an unusual story that he had heard a couple of months ago.

There was apparently a large piece of seaweed that had come out of the water down at the port of Marseille in France and had started eating people.

Then the seaweed went back into the water from whence it came.

So seaweed eating people down on the docks in southern France and now seaweed strangling the Roman god of love in a fountain.

The cardinal stood up, paid his bill and walked down the street in the direction of the Vatican.

And watched the sun set on the Eternal City.

-A vampire novel chapter 
written by Christopher
Tuesday July 30th
2019.

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Pan Goatee’s Uglocide Evening, Macron’s Whining, Malachi Martin Anniversary and Roy Cohn’s Pretty Boy

July 27, 2019 at 10:56 pm (Aesthetics, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, News, Politics, Religion, Spy Tales, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , , , , )

Pan Goatee’s Uglocide Evening, Macron’s Whining, Malachi Martin Anniversary and Roy Cohn’s Pretty Boy

Pan Goatee had just entered the grocery store and went to pick up a cart when a medium sized ugly looking blimp approached to pick up a cart.

Goatee beat the blimp in picking up a cart first and then promptly beheaded the blimp.

“One must show patience,” remarked some idiotic bystander.

“You can spend all eternity showing patience,” Goatee answered as he beheaded the man.

Goatee then picked up the items he wanted to buy and then went and stood in line at the cashier.

Some ugly looking female stoat-human hybrid (in one of the many genetics experiments in southern Alberta gone horribly wrong) then went and rudely walked down the aisle past the customers waiting in line just to exit instead of using the proper exit.

Goatee then leapt across cash registers, got in front of the ugly looking female stoat human hybrid and beheaded her with his astral machete remarking, “You’re the best argument ever against the erroneous concept of white supremacy.”

Goatee wished he could track down the Nazi criminals from Argentina who had settled down in Calgary back in the 1990s and performed horrendous and blasphemous genetic experiments whose rotten hideous looking fruit were now coming to fruition in the teens decade of the early 21st Century.

But the Nazi criminals having done their damage apparently fled elsewhere.

. . .

French President Emmanuel Macron sat in his office feeling depressed.

In addition to being turned down for quickies from all the older women he had propositioned in Parisienne sidewalk cafés on this Saturday evening, Donald Trump had tweeted a nasty tweet against him earlier this week.

Macron was thinking of imposing a digital sales tax on American corporate tech giants when they sold items over the Internet in France.

Trump tweeted that if Macron went ahead with this proposal, he Trump would impose a tariff on French wines when they were imported into America.

And then in the unkindest tweet of all, Trump had brutishly tweeted, “American wines are better than French wines.”

Now Macron sat at his desk drowning his sorrows in a bottle of Paul Masson wine.

. . .

“It was 20 years ago today that Malachi Martin the former Jesuit priest (who left the Jesuit order because it was too homosexual and too Marxist for his liking) and well known exorcist and popular best-selling author died,” Cardinal JM the head of the Vatican’s Secret Intelligence Service remarked to Samhain Cardinal Salaman a former professional stage magician turned Vatican cardinal.

“I remember hearing about that at the time,” Salaman remarked, “what caused his death?”.

“He apparently fell off a ladder while trying to retrieve a book from the top of his book shelf in his Manhattan New York apartment,” Cardinal JM sipped a Manhattan cocktail and ate a New York bagel, “although there are some people who believe he was pushed off that ladder.”

“By whom?” Cardinal Salaman asked.

“Well one theory is it was by demons,” Cardinal JM bit into a devilled egg, “and the other is it was by a priest or bishop or maybe even a cardinal who was full of the spirit of Vatican II.”

“I’ve heard that it was Malachi Martin’s book The Keys of This Blood that inspired Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing to become a geopolitical analyst,” Cardinal Salaman sipped his coffee.

“I’ve heard that too,” Cardinal JM shrugged, “anyhow Malachi Martin’s July 27th 1999 death couldn’t have come at a better time for the Vatican.”

“Why is that?” Salaman ate his baked salmon.

“Well the Jubilee year of 2000 was approaching and many people were pissed that the Catholic Church had never released the Third Secret of Fatima which it was supposed to have done in 1960 according to the Virgin Mary’s instructions,” Cardinal JM started eating a Belgian waffle, “but the Vatican plan after John XXIII was only to release the vision associated with the Third Secret not the text (Mary’s spoken words) of the Secret itself. However that posed a problem after Malachi Martin (who was the secretary to the Vatican Jesuit Cardinal Augustin Bea in 1960) left the Jesuit order. Martin as secretary to Cardinal Bea had read the Third Secret although he had taken an oath not to reveal it. And he never did reveal it. Although he dropped vague hints as to what was in it when he appeared on Art Bell’s Coast-To-Coast AM radio program back in the late 1990s. So the Vatican could never release the vision of the Third Secret and claim it was the text (Mary’s actual words) while Martin was still alive because then Father Martin would have said that the Vatican was full of you know what.”

Cardinal JM wiped his mouth with a napkin after eating a chocolate covered figure of a bull.

“Why doesn’t the Vatican want the text (Mary’s words) of the Third Secret released?” Cardinal Salaman asked.

“Well of course the Vatican has no problem with the global war or the fire falling from heaven causing tsunamis of steam to fall across the nations of the world everywhere or millions of people dying by the minute that’s mentioned in the Third Secret,” Cardinal JM cheerfully ate a gingerbread horse of the Apocalypse, “what it does have a problem with is Mary saying that Satan will infiltrate to the very top of the Church itself. Catholics across the world might stop dropping their money in the collection plate if word on that got out.”

“A wise decision indeed,” Cardinal Salaman bit into his Montreal smoked meat sandwich.

. . .

Peter Whitstable the Fox Mulder of Interpol was in New York City.

What brought him to New York were appearances of notorious American lawyer Roy Cohn’s ghost appearing across the world.

Whitstable deduced that Hades and Persephone had granted Cohn’s ghost permission to leave the Underworld for some reason.

So Whitstable had gone to New York to find out more about Cohn’s background.

The Interpol detective knew that Cohn had been Chief Counsel to the notorious Wisconsin Senator Joe McCarthy back in the 1950s.

He had also represented and defended several New York City Italian crime family bosses back in the 1970s.

Whitstable was currently interviewing an old acquaintance of Cohn in a run down New York City apartment.

The informer wore an empty cement bag on his head and a pair of used Nike running shoes on his feet so he wouldn’t be recognized.

“Well, Roy died of AIDS back in 1986,” the informer said.

“AIDS?” Whitstable repeated the statement.

“But Roy wasn’t gay,” the informer stated emphatically, “he always said that he enjoyed having sex with men. But he always insisted that he wasn’t gay.”

“Okay,” Whitstable nodded.

“But Sen. Joe McCarthy was gay,” the informer went on, “Roy’s personal secretary mentioned that in the book she was going to publish had she lived. But McCarthy covered it up during his life time. Being gay was the kiss of death for a U.S. politician in the 1950s. Unlike today where it seems to be working out very well for the current Mayor of South Bend, Indiana.”

“So Cohn said that he enjoyed having sex with men,” Whitstable took notes, “were they all one night stands or did he ever have a long term relationship with a man?”.

“There was one he had,” the informer answered, “in fact Cohn said in a public interview back in 1980 that this man used to call him 18 to 20 times a day each day. So you can see how intense the relationship was. This man also said himself in a public interview back in 1980 that Cohn protected him to the point of viciousness.”

“Wow,” Whitstable agreed, “That does sound pretty intense. Who was this man?”.

“The current occupant of the Oval Office in the White House,” the informer replied.

Roy Cohn and a mascara and make-up wearing young Roman soldier Donald Trump having a gay old time at a New York City nightclub on Saturday June 24th 1972.
The photo accompanied a story in the New York City edition of The Times of London on Monday June 26th 1972.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday July 27th
2019.

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The Mysterious Bavarian Crossbow Murders

May 13, 2019 at 10:16 pm (Aesthetics, Avatar Speaks, Folklore, Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Mythology, News, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , )

Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol was investigating some mysterious murders committed with a crossbow in Bavaria.

The strange deaths happened in a rural hotel near the Bavarian town of Passau.

Two women and a man were found in bed impaled with several arrows.

Whitstable had been brought in to investigate on the off chance that the crossbow killer was the Celtic horned stag god Cernunnos in which case such a paranormal killer would fall under Whitstable’s jurisdiction.

Whitstable had just read a text message on his smart phone that satyr serial killer Pan Goatee had just beheaded the ugly female manager of the store where the homicidally uglocidally incined half-man half-goat did his grocery shopping.

“I can’t believe,” Whitstable shook his head, “that the owners of the store would be so stupid as to hire an ugly looking woman as a manager at the place where Goatee does his grocery shopping.”

Oh well, Whitstable reflected, Calgary cowboys were famous for the fancy spurs on their cowboy boots and their bull legged way of walking not for their brains.

Getting back to the case at hand, Whitstable was not positive that Cernunnos was responsible for the crossbow murders at the hotel in Bavaria.

Cernunnos first appeared on the Interpol radar as a crossbow killer a couple of years ago when he shot and killed a group of wealthy hunters in the United Kingdom who were on an illegal deer hunt.

Then on a freelance mission for British MP Renfield R. Renfield last year, Cernunnos had used his crossbow to fire a poisoned arrow into the testicles of Russian President Vladimir Putin.

If the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith hadn’t been on the scene to immediately suck the poison out, the Russian leader would have died.

Afterwards Lilith took her blue evening dress to a steam dry laundry cleaner in Moscow which boasted of its superiority to steam dry laundry cleaners in Washington DC.

So far, other than the fact that the murders were done by crossbow, there was little to connect Cernunnos to this particular crime.

. . .

In the corridors of the Vatican, Samhain Cardinal Salaman was discussing an Israeli government document with another Cardinal.

“Does Netanyahu really intend to go ahead with this?” Salaman asked the other Cardinal.

“Netanyahu thinks he can count on the unqualified support of Donald Trump,” the other Cardinal answered.

Just then, a being who was part man and part deer having a large set of stag horns and antlers on his head and wearing a mask over his eyes came walking down the halls of the Vatican carrying a crossbow and arrow.

The crossbow carrying being with stag horns fired an arrow at the Cardinal standing next to Samhain Cardinal Salaman.

“Oh, I am slain,” the Cardinal said as he keeled over.

“You certainly are,” Cardinal Salaman remarked as the man died in his arms.

The crossbow carrying deer/man ran off as distant pan pipes played the melody Tomorrow Belongs To Me from the musical Cabaret.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday May 13th
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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Goddesses and Vampiresses On Saint Valentine’s Eve

February 13, 2019 at 11:58 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, Ghost Story, Gothic, Gothic romance, International Intrigue, Mystery, Mythology, News, Romance, Spy Tales, The Occult, The Supernatural, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , )


The Persian goddess Anahita: A Saint Valentine’s Eve surprise for Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing

Dracul Van Helsing was down at the Set Enterprises Laboratories and Rug Emporium on London’s Canary Wharf.

He was there to return a Persian flying carpet that the ghost of Orson Welles had borrowed to fly to Chicago and avoid all the heavy snowstorms that had recently been occurring at Chicago’s O’ Hare Airport.

As he walked into the head office of the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s Persian carpet warehouse partner the Persian goddess Anahita, she was there waiting for him:

Anahita: Good evening, Mr. Van Helsing.

She raised her dress and touched her legs as if she was doing a TV commercial for Venus Leg Care Products from Gillette.

“Soon Venus will be the only products that Gillette makes for both women and men,” Dracul remarked as he gazed at her.

Anahita lay back on the floor, “I hear that New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady while being shaved at Gillette Headquarters in Boston announced to the world that his wife Gisele Bundchen was a witch but a good witch who helps him win football games through the use of altars, candles, rituals, declarations of intent, healing stones and mantras.”

“I hear the same,” Dracul put down the magic carpet, “and a friend of mine in Huntsville, Alabama tells me that Gisele’s grandfather (or was it her great-grandfather?) was a Nazi SS officer who fled to Brazil from Germany after the war. An SS officer who participated in the highest Nazi satanic SS rituals.”

“Generational witchcraft,” Anahita sighed, “so what spirits is Gisele communing with?”.

“I have no idea,” Dracul answered, “and I do not intend to find out.”

“Did you know that David’s son King Solomon practiced witchcraft and sorcery?” Anahita ran her hands through her hair.

“So I’ve been told,” Dracul replied, “which is probably why the Ancient and Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry has been so anxious to see Solomon’s Temple rebuilt.”

“Did you ever time travel to Solomon’s original Temple?” Anahita asked.

“I did,” Dracul nodded.

“And did you enter Solomon’s Temple?” She asked him with a knowing and inviting smile.

“That I did,” the vampire hunter’s answer was affirmative.

“And would you like to enter my temple?” Anahita licked her lips and raised her dress.

“I would,” Dracul spoke the truth.

Next door in the weightlifting room as Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster was working out and lifting weights in an effort to impress his crush Sherrielock Holmes, the voice of Frank Sinatra could be heard on the crustacean’s iPhone singing, “That old black magic has me in its spell…”

Dracul entered Anahita’s temple.

. . .

“And where are you going, Count?” the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith asked Dracula on the forest trail through the Carpathians as she saw him approach.

“Lilith!” Dracula was astounded.

It had been centuries since she had turned him into a vampire.

Both wolves and ravens turned and fled from the site of this reunion.

. . .


“Thank you, your Eminence,” Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal addressed the kabbalistic practicing Cardinal Samhain Salaman.

“You are welcome,” the Cardinal bowed.

“That alchemical ritual you performed with the blood I gave you makes me look even younger than my usual young self,” Allatallahbel smiled.

“The blood you gave me in that test tube helped,” said Samhain Cardinal Salaman, “whose blood was it anyways?”.

“Ariana Grande’s,” Allatallahbel licked her vampiric incisors.


Ariana Grande: Her blood provided youthful rejuvenation to Allatallahbel the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday February 13th
Saint Valentine’s Eve
2019.

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