Sickening Sweet and Predictable

“If you bring out that wonderful pink box most children will gather around. When you open it, bursting with two dozen donuts in at least eight different variations, you expect the children to be delighted. You’ll be surprised to see the faces look in scorn at the sprinkled cake donuts, the apple sweet rolls, the bear claws, and the French curls. Except for a few of the children, they all want puffy sickening sweet and predictable plain glazed donuts.

Those are the same children who will visit another home and tell their friends, “That isn’t the way we do it at OUR house.” At school, rather than listen and learn, they will scorn others for opinions and customs different than their own narrow experiences. Their world is their own home, their classroom, their family, and their street. They have no used for anything outside of that world. Surprisingly these children are often the most aggressive and popular in there schools.”

The Demon took a long thin clawed finger and drew a circle in the sand. His skin was a grayish green, his eyes yellow with deep black pupils that never dilated, and his face a collection of sharp angles that could have been both handsome and disturbing at the same time. As with his companion his leathery wings were folded and tucked close to his back. His tail was wrapped around out of the way.

His companion, a smaller female Demon was the palest of grayish yellow – almost white. Her long white hair was in a braid and hung over her shoulder down the front. Olive green eyes looked back at the male demon who was her teacher.

She blinked sand out of her eyes. “So those are the ones we hit on first, the ones who have narrow singular minds. We go after those who do not see beyond their own three for four doors?”

“Yes.”

A young couple passed by them. He was tall with brown curly hair twisted up in a knot on the top of his head. She was shorter and blonde. They both wore sweaters and walked with their arms around each other.

“What about them? Let’s take them,” said the pale female Demon.

“No. It has been tried. They were not the children who only take the glazed donuts. They were children who from a young age have sought out the world from a different point of view. They were encouraged to be curious. They are cynical and skeptical. They are creative. They are curious. They ask questions. Most of all they are not followers.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we want?”

“Of course it is, but we haven’t been able to tempt them. They are on the high ground so to speak. They question everything. They weigh right and wrong. Their moral compass is too hight for us.”

“But wouldn’t you think that the children who are protected and not exposed will be the least susceptible to our charms?”

“Exactly the opposite. We paint a beautiful picture for them. We suggest that the world is an ugly place that is against them. We can tempt them. We can tempt the selfish and the self absorbed. We can tempt those with small views of the world. We can tempt both those who have seen too much and those who have seen nothing. Those two are the easier recruits.”

“But what about those two walking on the beach?”

“They can’t be touched. They’re hard in their minds but their hearts are pure. They will analyze everything. They’re not religious but they are self righteous. Worst of all they’ll think we’re stupid, or worse funny.”

The female Demon rolled her shoulders then stretched out her wings. “But they can’t see us as we are.”

“No they can’t,” said the male.

Anyone walking by would see a young couple sitting in the sand, not that unlike the the couple walking along the beach.  She looked pretty and pale like a cartoon princess. He was handsome in a hipster sort of way. People who walked along the beach smiled at them. Their tiny red sharp toothed demon pet who the female had on a leash looked like an adorable beagle mix.

“We can fool some of them,” said the male, “but not everyone, and it isn’t always the ones you expect. Even some of the good ones will still pick out the glazed donuts. You just never know.”

As the young couple in the warm sweaters who walked arm in arm walked back to their car they glanced at the attractive seated couple who sat in the sand with their dog. The dog barked and the woman told it to be quiet.

The young man held his girlfriend’s arm a little tighter, “I get a bad vibe off of those two.”

“I do too,” said the young woman. “I don’t know what it is. They kind of creep me out.”

“You wanna get coffee? There’s a great little bakery not far from here.”

“That would be great,” she said. “A raspberry filled scone sounds great right now.”

The Demons watched the couple as they walked to their car.

The male Demon shuttered. “They gave me a strange warm cozy vibe. I feel kind of sick.”

“Me too,” said the female. “You wanna get breakfast?”

“Sure. They mentioned the bakery around the corner. Let’s not go there.”

The wind kicked up and blew sand across the beach covering up the cloven prints and tiny claw tracks left behind.

 

 

Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

2019 Nano Pablano Cheer Peppers. 

 

 

The Story of Jack-O-Lantern (as told by an Ancient Vampire)

I stopped by the home of the Ancient Vampires Tellias and Eleora. They are dear to me beyond anything I could ever describe. Today I brought some Pumpkin Spice Blood, and some of their friend Druce’s famous nut cakes.

Tellias and Eleora look like they are only nineteen or twenty years old, but they are over two thousand years old. Nobody really knows how old Eleroa is.

Tellias was on the porch wearing overalls with no shirt. His pale blonde hair was pulled back with a piece of red string. Eleora was wearing a red flowers dress with a pink and yellow striped cardigan that must have been from the 80’s due to the shoulder pads. They were carving Jack-O-Lanterns.

“Juliette, do you know the story of Jack-O-Lantern and why we carve pumpkins, turnips and other vegetables each year at Halloween time?”

“Please tell me why we have Jack-O-Lanterns,” I said.

Tellias started to tell the tale. “There was a man named Jack.”

“Did I know him? Was it that one who became a priest?” Asked Eleora.

“No, dear Eleora it wasn’t that Jack. He became a priest and a Werewolf, but that isn’t the story I’m telling today. This Jack of my story lived in Ireland around the time that St. Patrick brought his god to the island.

Jack was a man who like to drink, make too many bad jokes, seduce women, and gamble.

One day he was playing cards in the woods with some of his buddies. But his buddies were frightened that the Demons in the woods would grab their souls so they left running after Jack won the game, and all of their money.

Jack yelled into the woods, “Do you think you can beat me Demons? Show yourself if you’re there.”

Three Demons came out of the woods. Two were males with curved horns and tall leathery wings. The third was a woman who, despite her pointed teeth and spiked tail,  was beautiful beyond anything Jack had ever seen.

Jack won all of the gold off of the two male Demons, but he could not win from the female. She laughed at him. This made Jack angry but he had a plan. He gave the Demons wine that he’d laced with poison. When the female fell asleep he took all of her money, her clothing, then burned a cross into her chest. He was going to take more from her but the male Demons woke and chased Jack through the woods. Jack was too fast for them and got away with the gold, laughing all the way.

What Jack didn’t know was that the female Demon was the Devil’s own favorite. When she returned back to Hell the Devil could no longer touch her because of the cross burned into her chest.

A few months later Jack was at home with his wife. The poor woman had just given birth to their ninth child a few days before. Jack was tired of the noise of crying babies and screaming children. He was tired of his wife always with a child at her chest, and his dinner being late. He looked over at the new child and noticed how beautiful she was. Grabbing the new baby away from his wife he told her he was going to show the child off to his friends at the pub.

Only Jack didn’t go to the pub. He took the child to the wife of nobleman who’d recently lost her own baby and was sick with grief. Jack told the woman to let him have his way with her, and give her 20 pieces of gold and the child would be hers. Her husband had been away for several weeks and was due to return home soon. He would never know the child was not his. Before he left with his gold he told her that he’d come back each and every week to roll in her bed with her, or else he’d tell her husband that she’d killed his ugly child and replaced it with a prettier one.

Jack laughed all the way home, or at least that is what he planned on.

He was attached by wolves who tore he heart out and left his body for others to find. Jack’s heart was so foul and so rank that the wolves spit it out and left it next to Jack’s body.

Jack’s wife got the gold pieces, and everyone assumed the wolf had eaten her baby. She mourned her child but not her husband Jack. Jack’s children were only happy to soon forgot about him, and all memories of Jack were forever lost. Eventually she met a good man who treated her with respect.

Jack went up to heaven. St. Peter took one look at him and told him that there was no place for him among those who spent their lives being good to others.

So Jack went down to Hell. He figured it wouldn’t be that bad. He could play cards by the fire and cheat the Demons out of their favors. Jack was in for a surprise when he got to the Gates of Hell.

The Devil told him that he didn’t want him, and recited a long list of pranks Jack had play upon the Demon’s of Hell. Suddenly Jack, who always had a party, a pub, or a pretty girl to go to had no place to go.

The female Demon who’d had the cross burned into her chest threw Jack a large turnip and a candle. The turnip had been carved into a face with a grin full of broken teeth that mocked Jack.

Jack was made to wander the Earth forever with his Jack-O-Lantern, never able to rest, except on Halloween night. But if Jack stops at a place and finds another vegetable l carved with a face on it  Jack is not allowed to stay.”

“Is he still wandering the Earth with his Jack-O-Lantern?” I asked.

Tellias smiled at me with just a hint of his Vampire fangs. “On windy nights you can hear howling and banging on the windows. Sometimes that isn’t the wind. It is Jack trying to get into a nice warm house and sit by the fire with a pint of beer. It will never happen. The wind takes Jack off again to the next storm, throwing him around the globe, with his heinous grinning turnip lamp.”

And there, from Tellias, Eleora, and me is the story of Jack-O-Lantern.

Happy Halloween.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

A Change of Heart

A Change of Heart

The Demon sat on the roof of the house wondering what to do next. She looked around wondering how they put on the roof with such a steep pitch. 12/12 she figured. Standing up she stretched out her leathery wings and brushed back her hair with claw tipped fingers.

It wasn’t like she didn’t know her job. It wasn’t like she wasn’t trained right. It wasn’t like everything she was ever to be was to be wasn’t drilled into her head for centuries.

Flying to the next yard over she found, the handsome Vampire sitting in a chair, with a goblet of blood and his Nook. She knew him. He would know what to do. He would help.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” the Demon told the Vampire.

“What do you mean?” He glared at her with no light in his eyes.

“I am so frustrated with everything. I want to open an art gallery, the kind with pictures of seascapes and sunflowers. I want to paint and draw, all the while promoting up and coming artists. I’ve got a knack for marketing so I know I could make it work.”

“What sort of stupid trick is this?”

“No trick. I just…I just don’t know how to be…to get out of my contract. I can’t very well ask my boss about it.”

“Why not?”

“I’d be sent back into the fire as a pitch fork handler. I’d never see the light of day again.” She looked into his ocean colored eyes with her yellow-orange orbs. “You’re a Vampire so you don’t know what it is like to have someone own your very being. I’m not my own creature. The Master of Evil owns me. Damn it. This is not what I want. It is not who I want to be.”

“Do any of your peers feel this way?”

“No. They’re happy. They’re content. Seriously what is wrong with me? Who wouldn’t want to spend the day convincing people to have affairs, feel crazy, commit murder and abuse elderly people and twist the necks of animals until they die a slow and painful death. The rush of it all is exhilarating, like the best sex anyone could every have. I mean who wouldn’t want that? Who wouldn’t want the rush and thrill of convincing someone to sell their soul? That is the ultimate. Damn, do you know how many souls I’ve taken to my Master. Millions. And you know what? You know what Vampire? I’m tired of it. I never liked it in the first place. OK I did for a while but after a couple of thousand years it is getting old. Really old.”

He rolled up his sleeve and showed her an ugly scar. “Demon, this is from your last visit. You nearly took my arm off. I was in bed for three weeks because of your poison.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. You have to believe me.”

He glared at her, hate filled his voice, “I can’t believe a word you say.”

She stood in front of him looking into his handsome face. There was no soul she could tempt. There was no blood she could spill.  Taking a step towards him the Demon held out her hand. “You could teach me,”

“No. It wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“I love you.”

“You need to go. Now.”

She stood looking at his face. If she had been created with the ability to shed tears she would have, but she could only stare at him in disbelief with yellow-orange eyes.

“I love you.”

“Go.”

Unfolding her wings she flew off, out over the bay, over the city. There were so much damage she could do to hearts and souls down there, but her own heart wasn’t in it anymore.

Turning towards the ocean she flew out, then upwards towards the night, trying to imagine what it would be like to be accepted for what she was not.

 

~ End

 

2015 Juliette Kings

 

It’s morning. Do you know where your soul is?

I’m on the road doing college/parenting stuff. I’ll have new posts when I return. Reposted from August 2015.

It’s morning. Do you know where your soul is?

coffee

A conversations over coffee and musings about the lives of others.

This morning I met for coffee with my brother’s friend James.

James is one of those people I find extremely obnoxious, but we have a connections through my brother Andy and through some shared experiences. We all have friends like James.

When he isn’t just hanging out with old friends, James is a psychiatrist to some pretty well known individuals. He is good at giving people ways to find normalcy in their lives. That is their normal. Everyone has his or her own normal, they just have to find it. The same goes with inner peace and contentment. James gives his patients the tools and teaches them how to use those tools to keep healthy.

As I drove to his house, through one of the more exclusive neighborhoods in the city, I passed a home I’d once been in, years ago. The house belonged to a wealthy man. I’m talking insanely wealthy. A friend of mine was his executive assistant.

I was there for a party. He was lovely and friendly. I’d met him before and he remembered me. My friend adored him. He was a good man.

Unfortunately his ex-wife, his narcissistic daughter, and his psychiatrist only saw dollar signs. They poisoned him with their demands and their bad advise. It was never about him. People who cared couldn’t get through to him. The women took and took from him, stabbing out pieces of his soul until one day he killed himself.

“There is a special place in Hell for them. No, really, Jewels, the reservations have been made,” James told me as he poured me a second cup of coffee in his well-appointed kitchen.

I believed James, because like me, he is a Vampire. He lives with one foot in death’s door at times. He knows what it is like to grab up your own soul and hold it tight. For unlike Regular Humans, Vampires can’t give away or trade our souls, but sometimes there are those who try to come up from the depths of Hell and steal them away.

“And to think,” I said, “people call us ghouls.”

“They’re such hypocrites,” said James.

We had more coffee and talked about our friends, our work and books we’d read over the summer. I looked around the beautiful kitchen. Too bad not much cooking happened in it. Most Vampires don’t cook much. We do, but not much. I don’t need to explain why.

James made a lame joke about cooking and I laughed. Then he smiled with a sexy bit of fang and said, “Let’s go upstairs and fuck.”

I smiled back. “You know I’m married.” Yes, that is the reason I don’t see much of James.

“Right, you’re married to the most handsome Vampire in the world, but come down to the dark side with me this morning. Nobody will ever know. Mix it up a little.”

“Oh James,” I said, “even if I was single I’d have to say no. It isn’t going to happen. But thank you for the coffee. It was delightful.”

“At least I can try,” he said taking my hand and kissing it.

Now I’m home, taking a break from my work, sharing my morning. I’m also wondering if anyone is mourning still for the lovely man who was driven to his death by demons who took the form of friends and family.

I look at my old dog sleeping on the cool tile by my feet. I hear a hawk outside. It is a calm space where demons are not allowed. I will not let them in.

Close the door if they knock, even if they look like someone you know.

Beware those who have already traded in their souls at the expense of others.

OK everyone, have a nice day.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

Wild Coffee

Adventure in a Cup

 

 

 

 

Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Stories Old and New

Dear Diary,

This morning two beautiful women came to my door. They asked me if I had thought about death. I told them “Not lately.”

Then they asked me what happens to us after we die.

I said, “If you’re lucky you’ll become a Vampire.”

They did not appreciate or understand my answer.

When the young men with white shirts and bicycles came later in the day I was perplexed.

“Why are you not in college, or learning a trade?” I ask them.

I tell them that they travel far from home but learn nothing of the world.

When I was young I traveled with my friend Randolpho to the great cities of Europe. We thought we knew everything when we left home, but soon discovered that we knew nothing. We saw our existence only from the viewpoint of the Vampires we were, and the Vampire culture we lived in. We had no reason to think there might be other ways to think about anything, or feel about anything.

I looked at the young men who had parked their bicycles at the end of my walkway. Then I said, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.”

The boys stood in a stupor as if they knew not what to say. One would think I had shown them my fangs.

“You are but children,” I told them. At that point I saw a Demon sitting in the top branches of the oak tree in my front yard, stretching it’s leathery wings. So I slammed the door and left the young men alone, on my front porch, under the tree. Since I did not hear screams or the sound of running feet slapping against the brick walkway I put it out of my mind.

I am a Vampire but I am not devoid of the teachings of scripture. On the other hand I avoid all dealings with Demons. All dealings.

A few minutes later, as I was pouring a bit of blood into my coffee I heard a scratching on my door. I thought that I must face the Demon and went to the front door fangs out with a large kitchen knife in my hand. It was only my cat. The Demon was gone. Good kitty.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Today a buck was in my yard eating fruit off of a nectarine tree.

In my time… no that does not make sense for this is my time still, in a different time, a long time ago, when I lived in my Vampire castle as King of Vampires we had no nectarines. Nectaries are the fruit of the Gods and I have one of their threes.

My friend Randolpho and my love Gillian were at my home. I summoned them to the window to see the young buck with his downey horns.

“Bambi,” said Gillian.

“Indeed he is like Bambi,” said Randolpho.

“Who is this Bambi you speak of?” I asked

Gillian and Randolpho smiled, both showing a bit of their Vampire fangs. “We will show you,” they said together.

Upon the screen they showed me a story of uncompromising beauty. I sat on the couch, my hand in Gillian’s, transfixed by the story of nature and power.

When it was over I sat for a few moments to gather my thoughts. “You told me this movie was for children. Would they not be afraid or saddened by this story?” I asked Gillian and Randolpho.

“Oh Vlad,” said Randolpho. “When you were a tiny child your BaBa told you gruesome stories of death and you loved every single one of them.”

Yes I remember her stories, and many concerned fire. She told me of Glago the Inhaler who would have his men lock up a building, set it afire and roast everyone inside. Then Glago would open his great wide mouth and suck out the roasted folk, then spit out their bones. Then the trolls would come gather the bones to build the foundations of their bridges. No screams or cries of mercy would stop Glago the Inhaler when he was hungry, or even when he was not.

There were also many tales of Robert the Gnawer who would make lovers of men’s wives. If the man came in when Robert the Gnawer was in his bed with the woman it would not go well. Robert would jump up out of bed, grab the man, then then gnaw his head off, then slurp his brain through his nose, and spit out his teeth while the woman watched in horror. Then he would bid the woman goodby and leave her. Of course Robert would always send large bags of gold so that his lovers would never have to worry about being left out in the wild. So it was not all so bad.

“No,” I said. “Bambi is not like Glago the Inhaler, or Robert the Gnawer. They have no families, or mothers, or honor. They have no true friends such as Flower or Thumper. They are without mothers and without souls. They are only wind. Bambi is noble. If Bambi was a Vampire he would have taken out Man and his parent would have lived another day. Alas, he was but a small deer, but through his courage and wits he grew to be a great buck and saved the doe he loved, and then became Prince of the Forest.”

“I thought I saw you rubbing your eyes during the movie,” said Randolpho.

“Allergies,” I said. “Just allergies.”

I think sometimes of old stories. After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years I find I am also learning many new stories both true and false. It is now that false stories are called fiction, that is, unless they are lies and meant to deceive. It can be confusing but I am learning.

Or at least I think I am.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

As the sun came up I lay in bed with my love Gillian curled around my, her arm across my chest, her leg over mine.

I kissed the top of her her head and whispered thoughts of love in her ear. Her skin was cold. It was a welcome thing in this hot summer weather.

I thought about what a strange week it had been. Then I thought of back when I was the King of Vampires standing on the wall of my castle with the wind in my hair, looking over the vast horizon that was mine. I put that out of my mind and thought about the fact that I had to get a new set of tires for my car and take the cats in for their shots. The world is a different place. It will continue to be a different place.

The only constants are that Werewolves will turn on full moon nights, Vampires will drink blood, and lovers will love on hot summer nights.

I got up and closed the curtains to the sunrise and crawled back into bed with Gillian, to sleep and dream of what will come tomorrow.

~ Vlad

 

 

Dear Reader, this has been the 50th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To read the entire diary from the start CLICK HERE.

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Face Your Demons

“I’ve faced my own demons, something I’d rather not think too much about, but I’ve never had to face someone else’s demons.” Lola as she peered into the dark room at the glowing yellow eyes. “Are you looking for Max?”

“You’re young,” said the owner of the yellow eyes. “What do you know about demons?”

“Oh please,” said Lola. “I’m six hundred and seventy five years old. I’ve been around the block with your kind more than once. Max is my great great great great grandson.”

Lola could now see the Demon spreading it’s leathery wings, and standing. It was a female, with the long legs of a runway model, and the body of a 1950’s pin-up model. “You must be a new demon. Max has had his share of demons when it comes to women but I thought he’d more or less shrugged most of you off. You’re definitely not a Fallen are you, you know fallen angel. They’re the worst. So full of themselves, especially the females. No, I take that back, the males are total assholes, almost as much as they were when they were angels, only in a different sort of way. What did you say your name was?”

The demon said nothing.

“Max isn’t here right now. I know you were expecting him but..” Lola put her hands on her hips. “This is my house and you’re not welcome here. Not now. Not ever.”

“You’re pretty. He favors you in his looks,” said the demon.

Lola, usually one for compliments didn’t smile. Despite her age she looked around twenty-five or twenty-six. Today her long brown hair hung down her back in a loose pony tail. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt with pockets full of sand and shells. She’d just come back from a walk on the beach. She’d looked forward to a glass of wine and a book, not a demon.

“Why do you wish to haunt Max? Your kind has already tried to kill him. He has scars that will take years to go away, even for a Vampire, because of demons. You can’t take his soul. What do you want?” And with that question Lola flipped on the light switch.

Standing in the back of the room was the demon, her skin an odd shimmery gray, her eyes yellow, her hair a copper color. She wore a dress that could have been leather, of god only know what. If it wasn’t for the pointed teeth and yellow snake eyes she might have been considered quite attractive. Lola could smell a bit of sulphur in the air. She’d have to burn some nice candles as soon as she got rid of the demon.

The demon sat down on the edge of the bench by the grand piano. “I am not here to do harm to Max. I love him.”

“Oh no you don’t. I should have known this. Until lately Max has been a disaster when it comes to women. But now, he is with someone he loves, truly loves and knows. Max is with her tonight.” Lola gave the demon the mom look. “If you try to contact him or bother his woman I swear I will kill you with my own hands.”

“You can’t kill me,” said the demon.

“I’ll make you wish you were dead.”

The demon looked at Lola and a black oily tear fell from her left eye. Then one fell from the right eye.

“Listen,” said Lola, sitting on the edge of a large red wingback chair. “Max isn’t the one for you. Sure he is good looking and has that bad boy charm, but don’t get carried away with that. A long time ago I was married to someone who was the most attractive, charming, powerful, and fascinating Vampire ever. Guess what? I’m not married to him anymore. I fell for the packaging but as soon as I got him unwrapped down to his core I found out he was totally wrong for me. That was five hundred years ago, but I will never ever forget the lessons I learned from that. The main lesson was not to let demons keep reminding me of him and my early feelings.”

The demon looked angry and her eyes turned red. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“My dear, you’re not listening. Find yourself a nice demon. Even a fallen angel if you need to, but somebody you have more in common with. Find someone who gave his soul to Satan but will give his heart to you. Max can’t give his soul away, and he’ll only give his heart to another Vampire. I know my boy. That is just the way he is. It would never work.”

“You do not know that to be true,” said the demon.

“Oh but I do know it to be true. You’re young, I can tell. What maybe from the 20th Century? I’ve been around for a while. I’ve seen this kind of shit before. You’re only hurting yourself. On the other hand if you’re into getting off from pain, suffering and that kind of  stuff Max definitely isn’t your guy. The last thing he needs is a drama queen.”

“May I stay for a bit?” Asked the demon, as she rested her clawed hand on the keys of the piano.

“No,” said Lola.

The demon stood, raised her wings, and flew out of the French doors into the night.

Lola wiped off the piano bench and keys. Then she poured a glass of wine, and found a new book to start. She found something Max had given her called Red Darkling. 

But before she sat down she took out her phone and texted Max.

You need to control your demons. Seriously Max. Grandmama Lola is not amused by visits from dreamy eyed leathery winged members of your fan club. 

Then she curled up on the couch, and listened to the distant waves of the ocean, the sounds of frogs, as she sipped her wine, and cracked open her book. A night without demons was a wonderful thing.

~ end

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

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