Maria Alexa Romanova
Grand Duchess Maria Alexa Romanova
The Grand Duchess Maria Alexa Romanova (a second cousin once removed to the late Czar of Russia Nicholas II) sat on her cushioned double headed Phoenix throne in her Paris hotel room in the year 1936.
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing was at her feet where he had landed after coming from the future using the Houdini-Tesla-Pantages-Welles-Lamarr Magic Lantern for time travel.
The ghost of Orson Welles had accompanied him.
Welles’ ghost had landed in a comfortable arm chair in the hotel room and was even now sampling a glass of champagne next to him as well as a dish of Black Sea caviar.
“Who are you?” The Grand Duchess and 12th in line to the Russian Imperial Throne asked.
“I’m Dracul Van Helsing and this is my friend the ghost of Orson Welles,” the vampire hunter replied.
“But I thought Orson Welles was still alive,” Maria stated, “A rising young star on both stage and radio.”
“I was back in the day,” Welles licked his ghostly fingers, “But I died on October 10th 1985 after giving what turned out to be my last interview on the Merv Griffin Show where I talked about the happiness of hedgehogs, my sex life and Rita Hayworth.”
“I hope only two of those things are connected in that last statement you made,” Dracul looked concerned.
“You’re from the future?” Maria Alexa looked surprised, “Why are you here?”.
“Because Franz Kohler the last surviving member of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau and a vampire intends to kidnap you,” Van Helsing answered.
“But why?” The Grand Duchess leaned back on her cushiony throne.
“Something to do with the Ukrainian Azov Nazi Battalions,” Van Helsing replied.
“The… what?” Maria tried to grasp what was being said.
“Nazis of our time period in the early 21st Century,” Van Helsing explained, “The brainless mainstream media of our day in the West don’t talk about them because they don’t want to admit that Vladimir Putin could be right about anything.”
“Vladimir…?” The name froze on the Grand Duchess’ tongue.
“Putin,” Welles finished the last of his Black Sea caviar, “Russia’s leader of our day.”
“Glad to see that pig Stalin didn’t find the secret to immortality,” Maria Alexa breathed a sigh of relief.
“No but Transhumanist billionaire oligarchs of our day are working on it for themselves,” Welles’ ghost got on the phone and asked Room Service to send some spectral coq au vin up to the room, “although Stalin does have a number of ardent disciples in the Western world such as a pale faced lily white boy named Justin Castro Trudeau who lives in Ottawa Canada and is jealous of the appearance of African-Americans.”
“What is the connection between this Ahnenerbe SS officer Franz Kohler and the Ukrainian Nazi Azov Battalions?” The Grand Duchess inquired.
“They’re all disciples of the Black Sun,” Van Helsing answered.
“The Black Sun?” Maria Alexa was surprised by all these terms.
“The Black Sun is really a brownish red dwarf star called Nemesis which orbits around the planet Nibiru as it travels across the galaxy,” Van Helsing noted, “First noted in little known ancient Egyptian texts and Franz Kohler became obsessed with them. Solar winds from Nemesis may have combined with solar winds from our own sun named Sol Invictus in terms of cosmology to have produced a rather spectacular display of the Aurora Borealis Northern Lights back on January 25th 1938 in fulfillment of the Virgin Mary’s prophecy at Fatima that this would be the sign the Second World War would soon start.”
“What does all this have to do with me?” Maria wanted to know.
“We’re not sure but we want to prevent Franz Kohler from kidnapping you and taking you back to the future to the city of Kiev,” Van Helsing sat beside the Grand Duchess.
“There’s only a limited time period for Kohler to kidnap you before his time travel debit card expires,” Welles finished the champagne, “Ah, I see looking at my Dick Tracy style spectral television wrist watch that our partner in time Michelangelo has just successfully used one of his Hydra blood dipped lobster antennae to jab and poison Franz Kohler in his ankle in the lobby of the hotel. This means you’re safe, Your Imperial Highness.”
“So what shall we do now?” The Grand Duchess asked.
“How about make love?” Van Helsing suggested.
The two were soon making out on the large cushioned double headed Phoenix throne just as Room Service arrived with the coq au vin.
“That would be for me,” Welles motioned to the bell boy.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 19th
2022.
Faust, Kohler and The Bat Cave
Peter Whitstable the man they call the Fox Mulder of Interpol was reading a set of old achives from the Nuremberg Trials.
It recounted how in the year 1937 Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau had gone to Mexico with the then immortal Dr. Johann Georg Faust (Faust was finally murdered in the early 2010s by an Irish arsonist hired by Renfield R. Renfield) to study a bat cave outside Mexico City.
Inside the bat cave was a huge statue of Camazotz the Mayan bat god.
Camazotz means “death bat” in the Guatemalan Mayan K’iche’ language.
Faust was going to be extracting viruses from the bats in hopes of producing a biological weapon for the Nazis.
Faust and Kohler went back to Germany with their sealed container of bat viruses.
Faust sent a copy of his research to a Japanese military scientist serving with the Japanese army in China.
The Japanese scientist and Faust’s research fell into the hands of Chinese Nationalist Kuomintang soldiers loyal to Soong Mei-ling (Madame Chiang Kai-shek the wife of the Chinese Nationalist Generalissimo).
Later one of the soldiers defected to Mao Tse-tung’s CCP (Chinese Communist Party) and took Faust’s research on bat viruses with him.
The research paper eventually found its way into the Archives Room of the Wuhan Institute of Virology where it was discovered back in the early 2010s.
Whitstable had on his desk another dossier that said Faust had briefly visited the United States in early 1940.
Faust was in Brooklyn New York in March 1940 where he was said to have had a tryst with the wife of a Brooklyn pharmacist.
Nine months later one Anthony Stephen Fauci was born on December 24th 1940 to Eugenia Lillian Fauci the wife of one Brooklyn pharmacist Stephen A. Fauci.
Was the whining demonic looking brat Fauci’s son? Or Faust’s?
Possibly DNA might say.
Baphometa (the daughter of Baphomet) with her pet raven Huginn Muninn Dunnin.
-A vampire novel chapter
Written by Christopher
Thursday November 4th
2021.
Tamara and Pamela
Tamara and Pamela: Going our way, Mr. Albion?
The year was 1937.
The city was Los Angeles Californa.
And walking down the street was Carson Cody Albion Private Eye.
When suddenly the back door of a very large car opened and two beautiful young women greeted him:
“Going our way, Mr. Albion?”.
“I’m always going your way, Tamara and Pamela,” Albion answered.
Albion got into the car.
Another car was parked on the side of the street.
Its backseat occupant was one Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.
He asked the car’s driver (who was the chauffeur to the German Consul in Los Angeles), “Was that the private eye Carson Cody Albion?”.
“It was,” the chauffeur nodded.
“Merde,” Kohler spoke the only French word he knew, “Another car picked him up before we could.”
Carson Cody Albion Private Eye had fun the rest of the day.
Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau did not.
To Be Continued.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday October 11th
2021.
Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Vampire Franz Kohler and The Black Hand
Sir Sean Connery (aka 007) appeared in a dream to British MP Renfield R. Renfield and told him, “Dr. Anthony Fauci is the hatchet man for a group of powerful and evil globalist villains.”
Meanwhile in California, a group of satanists were performing a human sacrifice in thanksgiving for Neo-Stalinist Governor Gavin Newsom not being recalled.
And over in Stockholm, Sweden, a woman was leaving the house of a slain Swedish microbiologist who had been examining the mRNA genetic modifier serums (called “vaccines” by the global medical technocracy) with a briefcase full of his documents.
Over in the Vatican, Samhain Cardinal Salaman was having a vision of Our Lady of La Salette weeping.
And over at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau vampire Franz Kohler was being shown around the institute by Chinese People’s Liberation Army Gen. Li Zuocheng.
Suddenly Gen. Li’s Huawei smart phone went off.
He happened to see a Set News Network notification- a quote from British MP Renfield R. Renfield:
“Benedict Arnold is alive and well and living in U.S. Armed Services Chief of Staff Gen. Mark Milley.
Meanwhile Communist Chinese warships and a destroyer have been spotted off the coast of Alaska.”
-Renfield R. Renfield
“We’re really going to have to do something about that troublesome British MP,” Gen. Li seethed.
“What is this?” Franz Kohler asked as he pointed towards a liquid filled tank that contained what appeared to be a charcoal burnt black hand.
“That is a relic we call the Black Hand,” Gen. Li answered.
“I’m sure I’ve seen it before,” Kohler answered.
Indeed he had.
The Black Hand had crawled across the German-Polish border just prior to the Nazi invasion of Poland.
“It’s a good luck charm,” Gen. Li explained, “This Black Hand has been overseeing our research into the bat Coronavirus ever since Dr. Anthony Fauci started funding GAIN OF FUNCTION research into it here at the Wuhan Institute starting in 2017.”
“And where did you get the Black Hand?” Nazi SS officer Franz Kohler asked.
“It was a gift from George Soros,” Gen. Li answered.
As for evil globalist billionaire George Soros, he had a busy weekend this past weekend.
He was busy entertaining aging over the hill 1960s hallucinogenic drug taking flower child and so-called representative of the people Rep. Nancy Pelosi.
And a long long time ago in a land far far away the ancient Babylonian vampiress Lilith had made out with the Watcher angel Semjaza while two black wolves watched.
And Lilith gave birth to Azazel who taught men the art of war and women the art of enchantment.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Wednesday September 15th
2021.
Marie Persephone Duvalier
Marie Persephone Duvalier
“Marie Persephone Duvalier,” said Belvedere the Ghost White Salamander reporter for The Times of London.
“You’ve heard of her?” Dashwood Forrest the owner and curator of The Dashwood Forrest Art Gallery in London approached the ghost of the ghostly white little amphibian.
“I have been researching her,” Belvedere answered, “Who painted this picture?.”
“Enrique Gomez a Cuban artist,” Dashwood replied, “Originally a supporter of Castro’s Revolution, he turned against it. He was one of the Cubans recruited by G. Gordon Liddy to work for the White House Plumbers during the Richard M. Nixon Presidency. Alas! Poor Enrique! He found out too late that you shouldn’t screw a lightbulb into a light socket with the power still on especially if your hands are still wet from fixing an overflowing toilet in a bathroom in the Watergate Hotel. His funeral was held a few days later in Miami. Nixon resigned before he could posthumously award Enrique the Presidential Medal of Freedom.”
“A very good artist,” Belvedere studied the painting, “A better artist than plumber-electrician obviously. He’s certainly captured Miss Duvalier’s spirit and personality.”
“Who was Marie Persephone Duvalier?” Dashwood asked.
“Well,” Belvedere took a spectral tobacco pipe out of his press kit and lit it, “She was a spy and secret agent. But her cover was that of a singer in some of Havana’s best night spots and night clubs before Fidel Castro seized power and, acting like a health expert in the time of Covid, put an end to all the fun.”
“Who was she a spy for?” Dashwood inquired.
“Britain’s MI-6,” Belvedere answered, “Her most famous assignment (still unknown to the world at large) was to stop Cuban dictator Fulgencio Batista from granting a casino licence to the Nazi vampire Franz Kohler who was an officer of the SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau. Kohler was hoping to use the profits and proceeds from the casino to help pay for the emergence of a global Neo-Nazi Army. Kohler, who had come down with the world’s first known (but totally unpublicized) case of Covid-19 as a result of hanging around with the wrong sort of bats (his diary recounting this was discovered by the Chinese Ministry of State Security who passed on the relevant information to the Wuhan Institute of Virology) was unable to come to Havana to seal the deal personally. Instead he sent his vampire assistant to seal the deal with Batista. The assistant was named Col. Otto Klein Fink.”
. . .
Col. Otto Klein Fink was shaving in his Havana hotel bathroom getting ready for his nighttime meeting with Cuban President Fulgencio Batista.
There was a knock at the door.
And standing there was a very beautiful woman.
“Wow,” Col. Fink was impressed, “Aren’t you Marie Persephone Duvalier?”.
Col. Fink had watched her sing last night in the hotel lounge.
“I am,” she smiled at him, “I’ve ordered dinner for the two of us. Steak and lobster.”
“Wonderful,” Col. Fink smiled.
The hotel waiter wheeled a white cloth napkin covered table into the room which was loaded with silver platters.
He then left.
“I’ll give you your steak,” Marie Duvalier smiled.
She lifted the silver platter and grabbed a wooden stake from the tray and plunged it into Col. Fink’s heart.
“I can’t believe I fell for that,” Col. Fink sighed before crumbling into dust.
The lobster (that was still uncooked) crawled off the table, out the door, down the stairs, out the lobby door, down various streets and eventually back into the sea (where one of his progeny would become Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster of Set Enterprises).
Marie Persephone Duvalier then left for home.
As Marie walked down the street, she passed Enrique Gomez’s street studio.
“Miss Duvalier, hold that pose,” Enrique begged.
Marie bravely held that same pose for the next several hours.
The only problem was that at one point the wind died down.
So Marie’s hair ceased blowing.
Enrique solved that problem by getting an American gentleman (who was a CIA agent under cover unbeknownst to Gomez) to get an electric fan with a long extension cord and to hold it to continue blowing Marie’s hair while he finished the painting.
At one point in the early morning, a Havana taxi cab drove by splashing water from a small pot hole on to the American CIA gentleman holding the electric fan.
The CIA agent’s funeral would be held in Miami a few days later.
And as for the electric fan with the long extension cord, it was a write-off.
But at least Enrique Gomez had finished his painting of the beautiful Marie Persephone Duvalier.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Sunday August 9th
2020.
Carson Cody Albion and The Zombies of 1950s Havana
Carson Cody Albion and The Zombies of 1950s Havana
The year was 1956.
Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara were busy working on their plans to topple the Cuban government of President Fulgencio Batista.
Britain, France and Israel would attack Egypt over the Suez Canal.
And John George Diefenbaker would win the leadership of the Canadian Federal Progressive Conservative Party.
The last good leader the Federal Progressive Conservatives would ever have.
And the last good Prime Minister Canada would ever have.
So naturally he was a threat to the Canadian establishment and elites as well as the U.S. State Department.
The State Department got global bankers and investors to sabotage the value of the Canadian dollar during the 1963 Canadian election campaign so Diefenbaker would be blamed for it and lose the election.
Which is what happened.
Canadian Federal Liberal Party leader Lester Bowles (should really have been spelled Bowels) Pearson became Prime Minister of Canada in 1963 and eventually paved the way for Marxist-Leninist Cultural Marxist Pierre Elliot Trudeau (should really be spelled Turdeau) to become Prime Minister in 1968 and to set forth plans for the destruction of Canada as a great nation.
The destruction became complete when Progressive Conservative Party leader Brian Mulroney (should really be spelled Bulroney) was elected Prime Minister of Canada in 1984.
Bulroney was so obnoxious, he drove the Federal Progressive Conservative Party of Canada to extinction to be replaced by the Reform Party later Canadian Alliance Party and later just plain Conservative Party of Canada.
So Diefenbaker was Canada’s last great hope before the onset of political zombies (mindless living dead corpses who went around eating brains) on to the Canadian political landscape which governed the country ever since.
And speaking of zombies, Cuban casinos were having a problem with zombies in that year of 1956.
Zombies were entering the casinos and frightening customers.
As well as stealing cash from the casino safes and safety deposit boxes.
A meeting of Cuban casino owners was held in the Glowing Sun and Burning Sands Whorehouse in Havana to discuss the problem.
A follow up meeting was held in the city’s Sexually Transmitted Diseases Clinic waiting room.
It was agreed to call in Los Angeles Private Eye Carson Cody Albion to investigate the problem.
Albion was recommended to the Havana Casino Owners group by a Monte Carlo casino owner (who had employed Albion as a house detective in a Monte Carlo casino and hotel the year before).
Albion arrived in Havana the following week.
After spending an evening drinking Cuba Libres in a Havana bar with a couple of interesting fellows named Fidel and Che, Carson Cody Albion set to work on the case.
Meanwhile in an Anglican Church in Havana that served British and Commonwealth diplomatic staff at the city’s embassies, an intensely stupid looking man with fish eyes and weird looking silver hair (that would have easily given Donald Trump’s urine golden coloured toupee a run for its money) sat playing the organ.
The man’s name was Keith Bennett.
Although that wasn’t the man’s real name.
His real name was Armilius Wolfstein a Nazi scientist (but not a very bright Nazi scientist unlike many of the evil geniuses of the Third Reich) who served as a somewhat dim witted assistant to the evil and notorious Dr. Josef Mengele.
Armilius Wolfstein fled to Argentina when the Second World War ended.
Wolfstein had had an interesting history.
He lived in Munich in the 1920s where he had tried unsuccessfully to apply to various universities and post-secondary institutions in the city.
He landed a job as a commercial and advertising salesman for a newspaper and magazine publishing firm in the city.
He had a friend Kitz Mjolnir (like the hammer of Thor) who lived in Munich.
When Kitz’s father died and the Mjolnir family estate was sold, Kitz had taken a small preliminary payout from the Estate to move to Berlin where he hoped to get into that city’s burgeoning film industry.
Armilius Wolfstein had told Kitz that if he ever needed help or decided to move back to Munich to get in touch with him and he’d move an arm and a leg to help him out.
While Kitz was in Berlin, his father’s Estate lawyer in Munich, either due to being a crook or due to gross incompetence, had absconded with most of the Estate funds.
Kitz was now left with nothing.
Unable to pursue his chance of a film career in Berlin and unable to land a job, Kitz returned to Bavaria.
But to the city of Regensburg.
Having trouble settling down in Regensburg, Kitz decided to move back to Munich but would need help finding a place.
He recalled Armilius Wolfstein’s offer to help so wrote him a letter.
Being the pompous asshole that Armilius Wolfstein was, Wolfstein had replied to Kitz with an arrogant and condescending letter.
Kitz thought of writing a letter in which he’d tell Wolfstein that he (Wolfstein) was so full of shit that if they gave him an enema before he died, they could bury him in a cigar box.
But he decided not to waste time in replying to such a venereal disease infested piece of rubbish.
So having stabbed a friend in the back, Wolfstein went on to join the German National Socialist Workers’ Party (the Nazis).
. . .
When the Nazis succeeded in taking power in Germany in 1933, Wolfstein like numerous misfits across the country was able to land a job by acting as a total brown shirted brown noser to the Nazi Party and moved into a position of importance, power and prestige.
He became a lab assistant to Dr. Josef Mengele although he bragged to friends and acquaintances that he was a scientist.
He assisted Mengele in performing the various inhumane experiments that the Nazis’ Dr. Death performed on individuals belonging to groups that the Third Reich had deemed and labelled as subhuman.
During those experiments, Wolfstein had occasionally run into an individual known as Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.
When the war ended in 1945, Armilius Wolfstein had fled to Argentina.
There he changed his name to Keith Bennett and claimed to be an English expatriate living in Argentina.
Bennett had taken up the study of music and became an organist (although in fact he played the instrument very badly).
Whilst living in Buenos Aires, he came across a Spanish language edition of The Necronomicon (mentioned in Lovecraftian lore) and getting help with the translation from a professional Argentinian wrestler, Bennett started using dark arts sorcery to raise the dead.
It was while he was doing this, that Keith Bennett (the former Armilius Wolfstein) once again encountered Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.
Kohler then took Bennett (as he now called himself) to Haiti to study under Haitian voodoo practitioners in raising the dead.
Bennett posed as an Anglican lay missionary while in Haiti.
No one thought of asking what an Anglican lay missionary was doing in learning voodoo, raiding cemeteries and cultivating plantations of zombies.
Although Bennett in the 1950s was doing what the later Anglican Communion of the 1960s would be doing when such notables as U.S. Episcopalian Bishop James Pike would be busy consulting spiritist mediums such as Arthur Ford on television.
Pike would go on to die a horrible and mysterious death in a desert in Israel for his efforts.
But that would not be the fate of Keith Bennett, Anglican lay missionary.
Having mastered the art of zombie raising, Bennett was then taken by Franz Kohler to Havana, Cuba.
There Bennett would start raising Cubans from the dead.
Kohler was hoping to raise an army of Cuban zombies to attack Florida and establish a Nazi Fourth Reich beachhead on the United States of America.
But like the best laid plans of mice and men, the best laid plans of Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau officers often go astray as well.
Two men named Fidel and Ernesto were planning a Communist revolution in Cuba.
So what would Cuba end up being?
A Communist state?
Or the Caribbean launching grounds for a Neo-Nazi Fourth Reich?
In fact it would be neither Franz Kohler and the asinine Keith Bennett nor Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara who would throw the deciding and winning pair of dice in which way the winds of change on the Caribbean island of Cuba would blow.
That would be decided by Carson Cody Albion Private Eye.
. . .
Albion was lying in bed after spending the last several hours making out with Dolly Castro (a cousin of Fidel and Raoul).
There was a pounding at the door.
It was the hotel and casino manager.
“Zombies,” shouted the hotel manager, “zombies have crashed the hotel’s dirty dancing competition and one of them has carried away the U.S. Ambassador’s niece.”
“Wow, someone certainly hasn’t been having the time of their life,” Albion opened the door.
“You’ve got to come quickly,” the manager said.
“That’s the opposite of what Dolly has been telling me all evening,” Albion remarked.
“The U.S. Ambassador’s niece is in danger,” the manager cried.
“I guess you don’t want the U.S. Ambassador’s niece dirty dancing with a zombie,” Albion followed the manager down the hallway.
. . .
The zombie was dragging the Ambassador’s niece into the house owned by Keith Bennett Anglican lay missionary and badly playing organist.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” the Ambassador’s niece cried.
The zombie (whose name had been Patrick in his mortal life) was busy swaying or swayzing in the Caribbean breeze on this moonlit Havana night.
Within seconds, salt pellets being fired by a machine gun sprayed the zombie killing him instantly.
For of course blessed salt kills zombies.
Albion picked up the U.S. Ambassador’s niece and carried her to his red convertible.
Screams could be heard from inside the house.
Just as Keith Bennett was playing The Old Master Painter on his organ.
Albion returned to the house with his machine gun containing 400 rounds of salt pellets, kicked in the door and began firing.
Franz Kohler’s army of zombies began dropping like flies.
Bennett reached for his own revolver to shoot at Albion.
The former Nazi pseudo-scientist turned Anglican lay minister and incompetent organist had his head blown off by Che Guevara’s machine gun as the young revolutionary came charging through the backdoor.
“Brains, brains,” a dying zombie tried to lick up what was oozing out of Bennett’s gaping head wound.
“No brains,” were the zombie’s last words before he died.
“Nice shooting,” said Albion.
“Thanks,” Che smiled, “I always have this recurring nightmare about being killed in a shoot out in the mountains of Bolivia.”
“You don’t want that to happen,” Albion noted.
“So, where are you going now?” Guevara asked.
“Out to my convertible to entertain Uncle Sam’s niece,” Albion answered.
“Really?” Guevara had a twinkle in his eye, “Do you know what Chairman Mao Tse-tung’s favourite quotation is?”.
“Can’t say that I do,” Albion admitted, “I’ve never read his Little Red Book.
“His favourite quotation,” Che winked, “is screw the U.S. Imperialists.”
“An excellent idea,” Albion smiled and walked out towards his car on this warm Havana night.
-A vampire novel chapterÂ
written by Christopher
Wednesday January 22nd
2020.
80th Anniversary of Nazi Germany’s Invasion of Poland
80th Anniversary of Nazi Germany’s Invasion of Poland
Eighty years ago today at dawn on the morning of September 1st 1939, the German Luftwaffe (Air Force) bombed the Polish city of Wielun a town with no military significance whatsoever. Its sole purpose was to sow terror among Poland’s civilian population. Thousands of people died in the bombings.
At the same time in the Polish coastal city of Gdansk, Nazi German battleships attacked the Polish military base of Westerplatte in that city.
In Warsaw at the same time, a group of men in black who were Franz Kohler of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau and some of his associates had raided the palatial estate of the Polish vampiress Countess Elena Dubrovna and were looking for her coffin hoping to take her back to Berlin where Heinrich Himmler and Der Fuhrer might make use of her.
They couldn’t find her.
. . .
On January 25th 1938, Heinrich Himmler the head of the SS had given the order for 12 SS officers to perform the ultimate sacrifice for the Fatherland.
They were to allow themselves to be beheaded and their heads would be kept alive in laboratories.
Their heads and minds would concentrate on developing their psychic powers and try to reach a level where they would be able to communicate with the Ascended Masters of the Himalayas who were the progenitors of the Aryan race according to Nazi SS teaching.
On February 14th 1938, the 12 SS officers were finally selected and they were subsequently beheaded after a night of tantric sex with the most luscious and lovely Aryan maidens.
On Lammas Night August 1st 1939, the 12 heads were overshadowed by the Ascended Masters who told Himmler that now was the time to invade Poland.
Himmler communicated the message to Der Fuhrer.
Arrangements were made for a non-aggression pact to be signed with the Soviet Union on August 23rd 1939.
On September 1st 1939, Poland was invaded by the forces of the Third Reich.
World War II had officially begun.
. . .
In London, England on September 1st 2019, an official of Germany’s Federal Intelligence Service (BND) was meeting with an official of Russia’s Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR).
Said a shocked Comrade Stroganoff to a smiling Herr Hanover, “You mean those 12 SS heads are still alive today?”.
“They are,” Herr Hanover nodded.
“Where are they?” Comrade Stroganoff asked.
“Attached to tubes and wires and bubbling away on Jeffrey Epstein’s Zorro Ranch in New Mexico,” Herr Hanover downed a shooter called Doctor Frankenstein.
“On Jeffrey Epstein’s Zorro Ranch?” Comrade Stroganoff was flabbergasted, “What was a person of Jewish ancestry doing with the living disembodied heads of 12 SS officers who were beheaded way back in 1938?”.
“You might as well ask what was a person of Jewish ancestry like Jeffrey Epstein doing utilizing a eugenics breeding program to create a master race on his Zorro Ranch? Similar to a eugenics breeding program envisioned by the likes of SS leader Heinrich Himmler?” Herr Hanover shrugged, “The guy was a nut case as well as a pervert.”
“Do the Americans know about the 12 SS officers’ living disembodied heads on Epstein’s Zorro Ranch?” Stroganoff asked.
“No,” Herr Hanover shook his head, “Otherwise the place would have been raided now by American authorities. Girls being raped by perverts and pedophiles isn’t enough to send the FBI crawling over the ranch with a fine tooth comb. But if a source of esoteric power capable of communicating with higher beings in another dimension was known to be on the ranch, all manner of U.S. government agencies would be falling over one another trying to find the heads.”
“So it’s agreed then that Germany and Russia will share the heads after our joint forces clandestinely raid the ranch?” Said Stroganoff.
“Ja,” Hanover answered in the German affirmative, “Six for us. And six for you.”
Former DARPA contract assassiness Panty Goatee watched the two intelligence officers sitting in their outdoor cafe sidewalk chairs from nearby stairs.
She reached under her skirt, pulled out a gun that sat just above her pantyhose line and shot both intelligence operatives dead.
She then met with Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing in a nearby cocktail lounge where she related what she had overheard.
-A vampire novel chapterÂ
written by ChristopherÂ
Sunday September 1st
2019.
Renfield Discusses Day of Fires
Renfield R. Renfield MP was having a Saturday night dinner with his friends Amadeus Emanon and Angelique Dumont.
Renfield mentioned, “So, I just found out last night that there was a fire at the al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem at the exact same time as the fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.”
“I didn’t know that,” Amadeus stopped in the middle of eating his salmon.
“It received almost no news coverage in the world on that day other than in the Middle East,” Renfield explained.
“What a strange coincidence that was,” Angelique reflected, “that two major centers of worship- Notre Dame in Paris and the al-Aqsa in Jerusalem would both have fires that same day.”
“Was Dr. Cadbury Rocher’s escaped basilisk responsible for the fire at the al-Aqsa mosque as well as that at Notre Dame?” Amadeus asked.
“Well, Dr. Rocher had implanted a GPS signal in the basilisk’s DNA so he’d know its location- technology which both the Chinese government and the U.S. government are currently fighting to develop so they can be the first to implement the Mark of the Beast system that no human being will be able to buy or sell without the Mark of the Beast in their DNA,” Renfield mentioned, “the GPS in Basilisk Wrathsbone’s DNA was picked up by sensors in the lobster claws of Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster. Apparently the basilisk was nowhere near the al-Aqsa mosque at the time the fire started like it was at the exact location of Notre Dame when that fire started.”
“So I wonder who started the fire at the al-Aqsa mosque?” Angelique pondered aloud.
. . .
The commander of the Vampiric Knights-Templar Sir Boyle of Olay was speaking to Allatallahbell the Vampiress Priestess of Baal.
“Our efforts to burn down the al-Aqsa mosque this past Monday were sadly put to nought,” Sir Boyle of Olay commented, “the fire was finally brought under control. So we will have to wait a wee bit longer for the Temple of Solomon to be rebuilt. Even though most of Israel’s leading kabbalistic rabbis are sick of waiting.”
“It will take a while longer then for the god Baal to get his statue back up on the Temple Mount like it was when Solomon succumbed to the foreign influences of some of his 700 wives and 300 concubines and started erecting statues of his wives’ and concubines’ deities in the Temple,” Allatallahbell looked unhappy.
“We should never have brought the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow along on our mission,” Sir Boyle of Olay sighed, “He went and lost his head again. And as a result picked up bottles of coconut milk instead of cannisters of gasoline down at the Old City market. So we didn’t have enough fuel to start a real raging inferno.”
. . .
Today’s date.
Holy Saturday.
The Nazi vampire Franz Kohler of the SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau lit a cigarette.
April 20th.
Der Fuhrer’s birthday.
It had been a Holy Saturday as well – April 20th- in the year 1889- when Der Fuhrer had been born.
Now exactly 130 years later- Der Fuhrer’s birthday – was a Holy Saturday again.
Fires at Notre Dame in Paris and the al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem earlier in the week- both on the same day of Holy Week.
This was surely a sign from the Cosmos that there was something providential about this particular Holy Saturday as well.
Kohler’s cigarette went out.
He lit it again as the voice of a wolf howled on one hill.
And the voice of a jackal howled on the other.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Saturday April 20th
2019.
Allatallahbell the Vampiress Priestess of Baal:
Waiting in time for the rebuilt Temple of Solomon
Renfield Vs. Crowley Idolizing Jesuits: Vengeance For The Basilisk Attack On Notre Dame
After Dr. Cadbury Rocher was handed over to his great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes to get his buns tomatoed for genetically creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame, Renfield was busy tracking down the Aleister Crowley admiring Jesuit priest Father Caiaphas bar Yochai the dark arts practicing sorcerer who flew the basilisk named Basilisk Wrathsbone that set fire to repair scaffolding at Notre Dame with his fiery venomous breath.
Father Caiaphas worked in the Antiquities Section of the Vatican Museum, headed the Rome chapter of the O.T.O. (Ordo Templi Orientis) and served as an advisor on papal liturgies for the Mass to Pope Francis.
Renfield found out in between blood curdling screams screamed by Dr. Rocher in Sherrielock’s dungeon below the billionaire ancient Egyptian vampire Set’s colossal London mansion that the odour of the weasel was apparently fatal to the basilisk.
Renfield bought a bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from a discount drug store in London’s Soho district.
He went down to Set Enterprises laboratory and got Michelangelo the Psychic Lobster to visualize the current location of the basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.
The Baphomet worshipping Jesuit Father Caiaphas bar Yochai had apparently flown the basilisk to Libya for safety after the disastrous choice he made in getting the basilisk to set fire to Notre Dame with its fiery venomous breath.
The basilisk was a big hit with some of the Islamist terrorist militants there who shouted “Allah akbar!” when Notre Dame went up in flames.
Canadian vampire hunter Dracul Van Helsing and the Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec had volunteered to fight the basilisk and Father Caiaphas.
Qonzilqointec and Dracul had flown to Amman Jordan to meet Pegasus the winged horse (also genetically recreated by Dr. Cadbury Rocher) who would be their steed in battling the evil basilisk and its evil Jesuit rider.
Pegasus was currently owned by Queen Rania of Jordan.
Aztec vampiress and Canadian slayer returned to London on Pegasus.
There the Aztec vampiress picked up the bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume from Renfield to slay the evil basilisk and Dracul picked up the authentic sword of Saint George the Dragonslayer from The Old Curiosity Shop (of Dickensonian fame) to slay the evil Jesuit.
Then they were off to Libya for the final showdown.
The Aztec vampire princess Qonzilqointec: With a small bottle of Odour of Weasel Perfume in her purse, she’s off to Libya on Pegasus to slay the evil basilisk Basilisk Wrathsbone.
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Tuesday April 16th
2019.
The Basilisk and The Fire At Notre Dame Cathedral
Set Enterprises’ resident sanity challenged scientist Dr. Cadbury Rocher entered British MP Renfield R. Renfield’s office with a face whiter than a ghost.
“Your face is whiter than I am,” the ghost of Sir Winston Churchill remarked.
“And me as well,” commented the ghost of Orson Welles who was still in a state of shock over the fact that someone commenting on Dracul Van Helsing’s blog had never heard of him Orson Welles.
“And whiter than I am,” added the ghost of the late Ugandan dictator Idi Amin who had dropped into Renfield’s office just for the Hell of it.
“It’s this fire at Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,” Rocher sat down and helped himself to a bottle of Renfield’s whiskey.
“A devastating tragedy for all of humanity,” Renfield agreed.
And the ghosts of Churchill, Amin and Welles nodded their assent.
Within seconds, Amin’s ghost was chased back to the Underworld by Hades’ 3-headed dog Cerberus since it was Underworld policy that dictators and despots inclined to ethnic genocide should not be allowed to leave the place.
Amin returned to his spit alongside King Leopold II of Belgium down in Tartarus.
“Look at these photos someone text messaged me an hour ago,” Dr. Rocher showed Renfield his phone.
“Unholy smoke, Batman!” Renfield exclaimed, “They show a Jesuit priest (wearing his Jesuit robes and a t-shirt emblazoned with a photo of Aleister Crowley) riding a medieval basilisk and setting fire to repair scaffolding at Notre Dame with the basilisk’s fiery venom.”
“But I thought basilisks died out with the end of the Middle Ages,” Churchill bit the end of his spectral cigar, “so the Renaissance pope Julius II wrote in his diary when he hired Michelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel in celebration of the death of the last basilisk.”
“Undoubtedly one of those evil 21st Century Transhumanist scientists has genetically re-created a basilisk again just to show the world they could do it,” Welles sipped a spectral glass of red wine.
“That would be me,” Dr. Rocher did a bad impersonation of American comic Bob Newhart whenever the comedian was caught with his pants down- metaphorically speaking (unlike Bill Clinton).
“You recreated a basilisk?” Renfield was shocked (and resolved never to screw in a lightbulb on his own again).
“I did,” Dr. Rocher held his head in shame, “just to show the world I could do it.”
“What did I tell you?” Welles’ ghost finished his wine and thought back to a radio commercial he once did about frozen peas growing in the ground in Norway in mid-July.
“Oh, shut up, Orson,” Churchill’s ghost was getting irritated.
“And you let this Jesuit have it?” Renfield wiped his spectacles, “Don’t you know that a great multitude of Jesuits are a bunch of satanic perverts?”.
“This Jesuit stole it from the barn where it was being held for safekeeping,” Dr. Rocher blubbered, “along with a Nazi vampire who’s the last surviving member of the Nazi SS Ahnenerbe Occult Bureau.”
“These Nazis never get up to any good,” Renfield fumed over his glass of whiskey.
“Agreed,” Chuchill’s ghost affirmed as he fumed over his glass of brandy.
“Most Jesuits never get up to any good either,” Welles poured himself another spectral glass of red wine and recalled a conversation he once had with film director Alfred Hitchcock on the subject.
On the television in Renfield’s office, the Kraken Napoleon VI addressed the world media with the fire smouldering Notre Dame in the background.
“My wife Medusa and I were married in that cathedral,” the Kraken wept octopus (as opposed to crocodile) tears, “we had ourselves crowned Emperor and Empress of France in that Cathedral even though most French citizens never recognized the coronation. The Egyptian vampiress Isis pushed world-famous Swiss scientist Dr. Fahrenheit Celsius to his death from the bell tower of Notre Dame. And Dr. Cadbury Rocher used the vampiress Isis’ secret laboratory below Notre Dame (which isn’t so secret anymore now that I just blabbed about it) to re-assemble the sub-atomic particles of the vampire Osiris after he had been disintegrated by a Russian laser death ray.”
“I didn’t know you had done that?” Renfield looked at Dr. Cadbury Rocher, “Does Set know you did that?”.
“He does now,” Dr. Rocher sighed.
Putting on a tartan kilt and a t-shirt emblazoned with a photo of Mel Gibson as Braveheart William Wallace, the Kraken swore to the world media that he would destroy whoever and whatever was responsible for the fire that engulfed Notre Dame.
“Wait until my great-grandmother the immortal dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes finds out I was the one responsible for creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame,” Dr. Rocher continued to snivel, “I’ll be unable to sit down comfortably for the next decade.”
“With all due respect, Dr. Rocher,” Renfield admonished, “with this devastation of a great French, European and world cultural landmark, the prospect that your buttocks will be in the upmost suffering and agony for the next 10 years seems the least pressing of all the major problems afflicting the world at the present moment.”
-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Monday April 15th
2019.
The immortal world famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes:
Will get to the bottom of whoever was responsible for creating the basilisk that caused the fire that engulfed Notre Dame
Dracul Van Helsing 
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