Daily Prompt: Wicked Witch

Write about evil: how you understand it (or don’t), what you think it means, or a way it’s manifested, either in the world at large or in your life.

“Where did you get that green frog Drac?”

“He just hopped across my path on my way home from the blood bank Morticia.”

“Croak, croak.”

“I think he wants to say something.”

“Croak, croak.”

“Dracky, where does he come from? He is licking out your plastic bag from the blood bank.”

“If you must know I happened to meet an old friend, a very old friend, one of the oldest friends.”

“Drac, all your friends are old, most of them are undead like us.”

“True. Anyhow it was Mephi and he said that Croaky would be a good pet to have. He does not really need feeding, he feeds himself, especially if we happen to have a frog pond in the garden.”

“He is not exactly cute, looks a little overgrown and his hands remind me of the fork that Mephi usually carries with him. Where are you going to put him?”

“Nowhere really, I though he could find his own place. Look he has hopped out into the garden and now taken a jump into the pond.”

“But he has just swallowed a frog, and another, and another. I don’t think this was a good idea.”

“Croak, croak”

He is back again and is now having a fight with Tiddles, our pet bat. Down Croaky, bats are not to be eaten. Tiddles is your new friend Croaky. be kind to him. No Tiddles where are you taking him? Dracky I think he has dropped Croaky into the garbage coffin as he was flying past.*

“But look, it is ideal. Croaky is eating his way through the garbage. Mephi said he would be good for disposal of unwanted matter and our coffin only has the remainders of our meals. Our garbage men have stopped coming, since we put the zombie in the bin. They found that our house was something evil and the garbage smelt.”

“But if he eats all the garbage, there will be nothing left. That is a really evil frog that you have brought home.”

“He is not evil, just misunderstood. Look how sweet he is with his pleading eyes Morticia.”

“Pleading for more to eat.”

“What are you worrying about Morticia. He only eats garbage and we are not garbage.”

“That is a matter of how you look at it. There are some in the non-undead world that have another opinion. I don’t like him, get rid of him.”

“You female vampires are never happy. I really thought Croaky would be company on a day in the coffin.”

“Croaky is not sleeping in my coffin. Take him back to where he came from.”

“You know that Mephi does not accept returned goods, he likes them fresh and new, but I have an idea. Tiddles take a flight to the cemetery and drop Croaky there. I am sure he will find a few bones to nibble on. So happy now Morticia?”

“Yes and don't bring anything else home. I remember the gargoyle when you said he was house trained.”

“Yes, a lovely creature. What was the problem?”

“He was not house trained and I was cleaning up his recycled matter everywhere. I do to like Gargoyles spraying their recycled WordPress prompts  in the bedroom.”

Topic Generator: Obedient Bite

“Look Vlad, Draven has arrived home. Oh look at you, what a big boy you have become.”

“Rubbish Morticia, vampires do not grow older or big, we remain as we were bitten, but I must say he has a very nice pale complexion, and your teeth have grown to a wonderful shape. Grandfather Cosimo would be proud of you, had they not pierced him with a wooden stake. How was school?”

“Oh, great dad, we learnt a lot. Look how I can fly.”

“Wonderful, but looping the loop is not very elegant as a vampire. And how did your biting lessons go.”

“Great dad, I can show you.”

“Draven we have no suitable flesh samples to try it out on.”

“Oh mum, we don't bite flesh. Most of us are vegan or vegetarian so we are given an apple, like the one in the dish here. Look.”

“Just a minute Draven. Your mother and I did not send you to the best institute in Transylvannia to learn how to bite a piece of apple.”

“It’s all the rage dad. Our teacher,Mephistofolo said in our Obedient Bite Class that drinking blood was no longer so healthy. There are too many living specimens that take drugs, drink alcohol and do not take care of their health. It is safer to bite into a piece of fruit.”

“And you can survive on fruit Dravy.”

“Of course mum it is just a matter of getting used to it. Look.”

“Well I must say Dravy, that is a very nice bite: clean and sharp, yes I am very proud of you.”

“And I got best marks in my final exam. Mephistofolo said I could have my own coven of vampires eventually. We have even learnt how to plant apple trees.”

“Err son, I am not sure if you are on the right track. In my time the best vampires were those that collected the most blood groups. Look, here are my blood badges. We did not plant apple trees, they did not grow so well in the cemetery.”

“Oh, dad, that is so old fashioned. No vampire drinks blood these days, at least not from humans on the street. Mephistofolo said that if we really feel the desire, then we should fly through an open window at the local blood bank and take a few of those plastic pouches. We have even learnt to drink the blood through a straw.”

“Vlad, we can really be proud of our son.”

“I am not so sure Morticia, our family was more into blood farming than apple farming. It was tradition.”

“Oh, come on mum and dad, you have to go with the times. By the way I have a girlfriend.”

“A girlfriend. What vampire family does she belong to son?”

“She is in the Smith family dad.”

“I have never heard of a vampire coven with the name of Smith.”

“Oh, she isn’t in a coven, yet. I happened to meet her one evening in the local hamburger bar. The full moon was shining brightly and we shared our hamburger. She was one of those british tourists in Transylvania wanting to sample the real taste of Carpathian life.”

“And so?”

“We both tasted it together, that’s why she is the first Smith with long teeth, but she can eat apples as well.”

“Vlad, Vlad.”

“What’s the matter with him mum?”

“I think he has fainted.”

Daily Prompt: Bedtime Stories

What was your favourite book as a child? Did it influence the person you are now?

As the golden sun sank in the West I would take my favourite book and begin to read. My mind wandered to the gloom and darkness that prevailed in a place that I so wanted to visit.The sky was preparing the backdrop to take an influence on shaping my personality. I arose from the place where I was resting and quietly closed the lid to the coffin. Of course, I could have just dropped the lid on the hinges but I did not want to wake my family, although they had already left. I was  then a child and needed my sleep, the adults were already hunting. 

Of course I replaced my book in the coffin, the dog-eared pages with their blood stains were the worse for wear. It was a family heirloom, handed down from claw to claw in the family. We do not even know where it originated, but it had been a constant bedtime story book through the generations of our family. The family archives mention this book back in the days when there was no such thing as superstition. People believed it seems, which was a problem when on our nightly flights. I remember great, great, great grandfather Gloomius telling me of the disappointment when he arrived at a door to a chamber, tired and worn out from his flight from the graveyard, to be confronted with a wreath of garlic. He told me the blood curdled in his veins, even though he had not yet had his daily ration. There was always a remainder somewhere in a place where he once had a heart, helping to sustain him before he could replace it with a fresh supply. Worse was when his victim appeared at the door, to discover what the flapping noise was and presented two sticks of wood, crossed in the middle. There was no pity or sympathy from the living towards the undead.

To a certain extent I realise what he suffered. I myself always avoid places where I can hear the laughter of the living, and see the illuminated windows from their televisions, although I often take a peep through the window, ensuring not to be seen. It might be that one of my favourite programmes are on the television. I like to watch animal programmes, especially if they feature the development of bat families. I remember some time ago there was a shooting taking place in my favourite corner of the cemetery where the undead are mostly to be found. The bats were delighted to be featured in a film and were hanging from the ceiling of a nearby tomb. Unfortunately the production team had to terminate their work when one of the cameramen was bitten by a bat, who aimed perfectly for the jugular vein. I came to the rescue and told the bat to find something more his size, which he did and he afterwards pounced on a rat that was on its way home with something squirming trapped in its jaws.

The cameraman was pleased to see a human shape removing the sharp teeth of the bat from his neck. Actually I was glad to be of help, and still being one of the younger vampires learning the trade I already had ready made puncture marks in the neck. 

“Morticia, you don’t have to tell everyone the story.”

“Fred, you are still the best cameraman for filming nocturnal scenes. You have become famous for your documentaries about vampire bats. You should be thankful that I helped you on your way to become one of the best.”

“It’s just that some of my friends ignore me and no longer invite me to their parties in the evening. They say I smell and they do not like my new makeover.”

“But you look great with your nice shiny white pointed teeth and a black cloak suits you.”

“Ok, Morticia it might be fashion in your world, but not in mine.”

“Your ex world Fred. Now go and play with your camera, there is a werewolf taking a walk through the forest, I am sure that would be good film material.”

Yes, Fred is still learning the ways, but I think he is one of my most successful victims.

It was nice talking to you about my favourite book but I must be on my way. Oh I forgot to tell you, yes the book is titled “The Life and Times of the daily prompt” and tells of the experiences made of one of the first believers in the daily prompt (my great great great grandfather Gloomius) when he decided to take the job on suggesting things to tell everyone to write about.

I am now on my way to the local blood bank to tank up on my life’s liquids. Since Fred, who was a vampire’s delight, I no longer attack the so-called living. They are armed with all sorts of weapons like knives and guns and no longer have respect for the undead. Yes, my name is Morticia and I am a vampire.

WordPress Daily Prompt: First Light

Remember when you wrote down the first thought you had this morning? Great. Now write a post about it.

No, I do not remember when I wrote down the first thought I had this morning, simply because I did not write it down. I was too busy wondering what the time was, which joints were aching and how to get to the toilet without falling and breaking a leg on the way. I should write a post about this? I do not think that anyone  in their right mind would be interested to know how I survived this morning ritual. 

It seems that this is something great to write about. A subject that all bloggers are waiting to hear about. Do you really want to know about this? No, of course not, you all have your own getting up problems in the morning. 

Sorry, but this is a short blog because I have been there and done it before, because it is a very boring subject and it nerves me to do the same thing again two years later as if my first thoughts in the morning are different in 2015 to 28th February 2013.

 I could tell you that the birdhouse had no food, due to a blackbird invasion yesterday. I could tell you all about my new tooth brush that I picked up under guarantee at the local supermarket this morning. Yes the other died after only a year in use. As it was a Philips Sonic toothbrush which cost about 170 Swiss Francs, you do not throw them away and buy a new one. You search for the guarantee and take it to the supermarket. They send the toothbrush to the Philips who then discover the toothbrush cannot be saved and dies a quick death in the happy hunting grounds of Philips Sonic toothbrushes, but not without being replaced. I am now the proud owner of a new Philips sonic toothbrush. Luckily I had a second sonic toothbrush in the meanwhile, thanks to Mr. Swiss who had a spare toothbrush for his water pic. It is the American cousin of the Philips toothbrush. My teeth are saved and I can smile again, reflecting the sunlight which makes them sparkle.

Of could this has nothing to do with my first thought this morning. I was still making a effort to stand and leave my bed before I thought of this important “save the teeth” excursion. I also thought about opening the curtains in the bedroom and taking a glance outside to see if we were submerged in snow, but this was not the case. The snow was still there but the sun was out.

You know what, I cannot be bothered. I write daily my words of wisdom for a prompt that is resuscitated from the graveyard of forgotten prompts. I feel stupid, being taken for a ride. Am I the only survivor of the original Daily Prompt veterans? Who really cares what my first thought in the morning is. If I was Dracula I would be glad to lay in my coffin somewhere in the depths of the cellar after a night out at the local blood bank. I would have no first thoughts, I would be sleeping my nightly blood quenching session off. 

Mr. Swiss is making his first cup of coffee when I am having my famous first thoughts of the day. His first question of the day when I arrive in the kitchen is “What was your first thought of the day, did you write it down”. I ignored these words wondering where he found this stupid question. Perhaps he has a photographic memory and remembers it from the years gone past when I wrote daily prompts with enthusiasm.Unfortunately these moments no longer exist. I almost fear to read what today’s prompt is. How can I win a Pulitzer or Nobel prize when I have to deal with the same things daily. My rise to fame in the Blogger world is being disturbed. This is not 50 Shades of Blog, but 50 Shades or repetition. I am amazed to see that I actually managed 762 words about this stupid prompt.

I am not sure if I will see you again tomorrow. This prompt was originally 28th February 2014, and we will have to wait two years until 29th February 2016 arrives. Tell us about your first leap year. Did you have fun, did you realise it only happens every four years, and what was the best 29th February you ever had.

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Reviving Bricks

You just inherited a dilapidated, crumbling-down grand mansion in the countryside. Assuming money is no issue, what do you do with it?

“This is it, needs a few repairs but we were sure it was your style.”

I looked at the guy with wearing the the WordPress t-shirt again. Did I see a red line of blood dripping onto a grave stone at the entrance? No, it was just my imagination.

“It is very nice of WordPress to give me a mansion, but I would have preferred a t-shirt. Why are there so many gravestones at the entrance?”

“No problem Mrs. Angloswiss, they were left behind by the last owner. He said he liked being near his ancestors.”

“Where is the owner now?”

“He said something about inheriting a castle from his great grand-daddy somewhere in Transylvannia. He could not afford the upkeep of two stately homes, so he asked WordPress to donate this one to a deserving blogger, and we immediately thought of you. I have to fly off go now, here are the keys and have fun. Oh, the previous owner said not bother with the cellar, it would be too cold and damp to do anything with.”

There was a clap of thunder, lightning which illuminated the complete building and the WordPress man was gone. Did I hear a peel of strange laughter in the distance? The WordPress public relations department seem to go a bit too far sometimes.

I noticed there was a sweet black cat that seemed to be guarding the entrance to the house. He looked at me and licked his lips. I was sure he liked me, I have a way with cats. I entered my new home and was greeted with a musty smell coming from the cellar. Someone left the cellar door open. I peered down the stairs, but it was very dark. Suddenly flaming torches attached to the wall ignited. Did I light them, no, I did not. Perhaps there is some sort of remote control thing here: Seems to be quite modern after all. Who knows? 

This is ideal, a wine cellar with rows of bottles containing red wine and they are labelled. I took one in my hand and dusted the cobwebs away. “Lady Morticia, Bood group A+, 1900” was written on the label. I had a look at the other bottles, each was marked with a name, a blood group and a date. I decided to try a bottle of Lord Mordred Group RhD+, 1825. Old and rare wine is always good with a slice of rare steak.

As I removed the bottle from the rack, I again heard a maniacal laugh. These things seem to be quite in at the moment with WordPress. I ascended the stairs to the banqueting room. It was quite a nice room, various animal heads hanging on the walls each showing their long white teeth. They were even named: “Canis Lupus vampirus, killed Carpathians 1800 RIP”. How nice, the previous owner must have loved his pets to have kept them in memory in this way.

I decided there would be some dusting and hoovering to do. Not every day you inherit such a unique building. I was so tired; I could have dropped dead in the real sense of the word. I heard a sharp meow and the cat that was guarding the entrance to the building was leading the way so I followed. We arrived in the bedroom. I was surprised; it was as if I was expected. The bed was ready: black satin sheets with a contrasting blood red cover. The cat jumped onto the bed and I followed. The cat lay down next to me purring and began to lick my hand. I was soon asleep, deep in the land of dreams. I even dreamt of Transylvannia, a nice castle in the Carpathians and being welcomed at the door buy a cat resembling my bed companion. The cat changed into a guy wearing a WordPress t-shirt and beckoned with his sharp fingernails to come closer. He wrapped his arms around me and I knew I had found the man of my dreams. Yes, they were strange dreams. Now and again I felt something like pin prick on my neck, but it was probably getting used to satin sheets. I had never slept in satin before.

The next morning I awoke I did not awake. I slept on until the next evening when I awoke feeling tired and hungry. The cat was still lying on the bed, he turned and looked at me with his red eyes (red eyes?) and took me in his arms, showing two sharp teeth. I heard a wolf howl in the distance and we flew off together. I forget to mention, the cat changed into that many of my dreams with the WordPress t-shirt from the night before. Yet again another publicity stunt.

This was great I had everything. I soon moved down to the celler where my new boyfriend had prepared a comfortable coffin, lined with red silk of course. My hunger was stilled. There were enough bottles on the wine rack in the cellar and otherwise, we dined out together of course. Thank you WordPress, what a lovely surprise this turned out to be.

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WordPress Weekly Challenge: The Setting's The Thing

Today, we challenge you to create a compelling setting for your story.

It was a job just made for him and for his talents. It was a night job, it could not be better. The day was boring, the streets full of people pushing, no time to wait, all in a stress and of course the daylight. It took him many years to realise that this was poison to his way of life. He preferred to take things easy, to be his own chief, to decide when and where he could carry out his purpose I life and this was just what he wanted, as if the job was waiting for him. After examining his qualifications, and his boundless knowledge in connection with the requirements necessary, he was chosen. Not everyone was prepared to work only at night, but this man was ideal. He only wanted to work at night. The only stipulation he made was that he would like to have one night free monthly. This was no problem and he was engaged.

So Mr. Vlad Drake was employed at the local hospital in the Blood Bank. He was a happy person, at last he could forget the endless walks through the streets only meeting half drunken louts and sick drug addicts. They were no reward for a genuine vampire who had roamed the streets of countries no longer existing. Today it was no longer enjoyment. There were people dressed in black, sporting white shirts with frills and long greasy black hair. Even the women were painting their fingernails black and sporting a black lipstick. To his day the women had wonderful blood red lips, an invitation to any pair of fangs. The name Goth was mentioned in connection with these strange members of the human race and he must admit, such necks were not inviting to a fully-fledged 100% vampire as he was. He could remember the days when his castle was being built in a dark corner of the Transylvanian mountains, but times change and so do vampires. Enough wallowing in this nostalgic frame of mind, he was now the chief in his department, although at night he was on his own and had no staff.

“Your nocturnal work will probably mainly consist of handling emergency needs from the blood bank” said the doctor responsible for transfusions. “You will have to work quickly in stress situations. There might be a large pile up accident on the motor way and there will be a great need for blood. It is important that you select the correct blood group.”

“No problem, Dr., I can literally smell the various blood groups. This is not my first job looking after blood reserves.”

“Ah yes” answered the doctor “I believe you were working in your mother country of Romania before you came to our country. I remember you have a profound experience in dealing with blood and the results of your qualification test were the best we have ever had. In that case I will leave you to your work and wish you a good start.”

“Thank you doctor, I am very much looking forward to the logistical side of the work. Blood has always interested me, from a scientific point of view of course. I can almost smell the various groups.”

And Vlad Drake was left alone in the department to his own devices. He regularly received supplies of blood, packed neatly in plastic pouches and labelled with the blood group. It was his job to list the quantity received according to the group name, which he did with no problem. Now and again he perhaps wrote ten received, instead of twelve, but this was no problem. The two not listed were his own private supply which he took home when he left early in the morning, before the sun rose.

Things were developing perfectly. He now had his own little blood bank at home and no longer had to depend on the rabble, on the unhealthy who roamed the streets. His blood supplies were clinically packed and inspected for any impurities.

Once a month he had his free evening. Strangely this evening coincided with the full moon. No self-respecting vampire would work on a full moon night; it was perhaps equivalent to the week-end for the mortals. They enjoyed their free time and so did a vampire. He usually took a flight to the local forest or graveyard and exchanged fond memories with others belonging to the undead. He was admired by others of his race, being the person with most experience and his stories of the old days in Transylvania where wolves were wolves and the victims died with a wooden stake driven through the place where their heart should have been, were held in respect by his fellow vampires.

Vlad Drake soon became a respected person in his job. There was nothing he did not know about blood, and many students were sent at night to learn from him. Some students had to treated for anaemia from time to time, but as Vlad was such a well-known capacity in his job, this was ignored.

The strange thing was that after fifty years working as head of the department, he made no signs of wanting to be retired. Indeed his appearance did not seem to change and he remained the same Vlad Drake as ever. This was probably also due to the fact that he outlived most of the other doctors.

When he arrived home in the morning he was a happy vampire. He could relax, have a drink from his personal reserve and relax in his silk lined coffin in the cellar. This was different from the days when he was hunted by vampire slayers, and avoiding the garlic that the local peasants hung at their window. He never liked the stuff, and no-one would willingly be bitten by a vampire smelling of garlic. Times were great in this twentieth century world. He did miss the family, most of them being transformed into dust many years ago. It was their own fault, they just did not know when to call it a night, and if the sun crept over the horizon, well ……

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WordPress Daily Prompt: Because The Night

Are you a night owl or are you the early bird? What’s your most productive time of day? When do you do your best work?

The view from a plane over the farm lands of France – actually it was daytime, but you can do everything with a little touch of photoshop today.

It all depends on me, my mood, my current occupation, my state of mind. What’s work?

There was a time when life required duties to be carried out and completed. A company would not wait for me to arise in the morning, I had no choice. Be there and do it were the orders of the day. This accompanied with family organisation, multi-tasking was required. Was I a night owl or early bird? I was that what life required of me. I am not going to boast about being an early morning creation. I love my bed, soaking up the confinement of the sheets, resting my weary head on a pillow and then it happens. Somewhere in a distant place a bell rings, a siren, an explosion. My brain cells begin to tick, habit forming takes over and I leave my bed for a place called work. This was in the far gone days before I became a golden oldie.

Whether I was productive at this time, I am not sure. There were times when my head began to nod at my desk, generally after lunch. Something was missing in my life, perhaps the two hours that had been stolen in the early morning hours by the sound of the alarm clock. Perhaps I should have retired to bed an hour earlier to remain fresh and awake during the daylight hours.

I should have been a vampire. They have such a quiet life, sleeping the daylight hours away in a coffin, a coma similar sleep, drifting amongst the memories of the ghouls and undead, never growing older. My teenage beauty and charm would have been preserved forever. Problems do not exist with an alarm clock, they depend on nature: the rising of the moon. Oh what a life, no need to sit in an office during the day and pass the time carrying out orders. One vampire problem is a fresh supply of blood. If you are lucky your midnight flight will take you near to a blood bank and then the problems are solved. The blood is clean and pure, all tested for some sort of human diseases which might occur. Vampires do not have an easy life today: unprotected game roaming the street in the dark hours of the night is subject to an unhealthy style of life. There might be addicts, alcohol or drugs and no self-respecting vampire wants to become high after a refreshing drink from a welcome neck. It would disturb the diurnal activity of sleep (diurnal=daylight – found it in Internet). A vampire with insomnia is an unhappy vampire. Sun rays might alight on the vampire suffering from insomnia during the day and that would be fatal. We all know the sad end of Dracula – he was stabbed in the heart, although had he suffered from a sleepless day the sun’s rays would have done their work, and his body would have become a pile of dust, swept away to the next dustbin.

However, I am not a vampire up to now. There are a few strange bats flying around in the area where I live, no reports of vampire bites or of undead walking in my garden.

There is a remark about productivity in the daily prompt title. Today I just produce a clean apartment, cooked food and a daily prompt. That is the story of my life. During the night I sleep, although there are times when a full moon appears and …….. Ask my felines, they sometimes accompany me.

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WordPress Daily Prompt: The Show Must Go On

If you were involved in a movie, would you rather be the director, the producer, or the lead performer? (Note: you can’t be the writer!). 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us CELEBRITY.

“Where is Karl? How am I to be expected to produce an epic horror film without the leading actor?”

“Did I hear you call my name boss, sorry I am late, but my presence was required at a party: one of those events where they needed a genuine attraction. It was a dress-up party with a horror theme and I was the star of course.”

“OK, Karl, forget the weak excuse. We are all waiting for you. Dementia Mort has been laying on the gravestone for an hour waiting for the shooting to begin.”

“Yes boss, and I am sure to get rheumatism from those cold stones. Aaahtishoo! You see I have already got a cold, probably pneumonia. Why do we always have to do these horror films so realistic? We could have built a set in the studio, but no, we have to do it in an old rotting graveyard. Yuck! There is a spider crawling over the gravestone.”

“Sorry Dementia” answered Karl “but I was really being celebrated at the party. They were fascinated by my life-style acting.”

“Karl, can we begin? Dementia are you ready?” said the producer.

“Boss I have been ready for an hour.”

“I see you have found time to visit the make-up Karl. At least we can start without having to fit the Dracula fangs and give your eyes a red tinge.”

“But boss!”

“No buts Karl. Shoot!”

And the cameras began to whirl. Karl bent over Dementia, aiming his fangs at her neck and there was a scream.”

“Dementia, your scream was too early, Karl does not yet have the blood dripping from his teeth.”

“I was trying to tell you boss, but you are not listening…”

“There is no time to listen Karl. What is wrong Dementia, did you sit on a thorn?”

“No, boss but it was the fang. It was too sharp.”

“Dementia it is only plastic. Karl, I like realism, but not too much, just be more careful. Let’s shoot the scene again.”

“Boss I think we are going to have a problem with this scene.”

“A problem? Karl all you have to do is bite on the blood capsule in your mouth and make as if you have pierced the jugular vein on Dementia’s neck. Is that so difficult?”

“It was the party yesterday evening, something was wrong.”

“Tell me about it Karl and then we can continue.”

“There were a couple of gate crashers around midnight and they were dressed to look like vampires, but I think they were vampires. I was drinking red wine and they somehow changed my glass.”

“Karl make it short, so we can shoot the scene. It is getting darker and we have no floodlights.”

“I was trying to tell you, boss, it was not red wine they gave me. Afterwards I noticed that my teeth began to grow and today I have been having problems with the day light.”

“Tell me about it afterwards Karl. This pause in the shooting is costing at least $500 an hour.”

So the shooting of the film continued. It was really very realistic and the producer was pleased. Karl had a bad conscience. He enjoyed piercing Dementia’s neck and found it very refreshing. Dementia fell into a trance according to the script, but it was so genuine that they had problems waking her afterwards. Karl had a bad conscience. He did try to tell the producer that he had no time to visit make-up before the shooting and it was all genuine. No plastic teeth and no blood capsule, but he had to admit it was much more fun.

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WordPress Daily Prompt: It Builds Character

Tell us about a favorite character from film, theater, or literature, with whom you’d like to have a heart-to-heart. What would you talk about? 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us a CHARACTER.

“That was a spectacular arrival Count Dracula”

“I do my best, although the effects seem to be less today. Modern life seems to lessen the impact of my appearance. There have been so many cheap copies in film that people just seem to think of me as a comic figure.”

“But you are still a popular figure at Halloween.”

“Don’t make me laugh, plastic teeth and red paint is just ridiculous. I like the real thing, just take a look”

and the Count opened his mouth to show two pointed teeth.

“You see, these are vampire teeth, not the cheap imitations. Come a little nearer and I will show you how it works. Ha, ha, ha”

Needless to say I decided not to get closer. It was not just a laugh, but it came from the depth of the throat, more like an invitation to the bite.

“I don’t think I will Count, although I must say your teeth are a marvellous colour, no sign of decay.”

“Of course not, my decay happened many years ago, when I was deemed to become an undead, scouring the surface of this world for nourishment. Oh the delight of fresh white skin, preferably neck, where I can sink my fangs into the depth of the jugular vein.”

“Sorry to interrupt Count, but this interview might be read by children, frail ladies and people with an aversion to seeing fresh blood. Let us keep it human friendly.”

“Not my problem, but if you insist. I see you have a bottle of red liquid on the table. Would that perhaps be….?

“No, sorry Count, your liquid cravings cannot be catered for, it is just plain red wine, but you are welcome to a glass.”

“Many years ago in the old country, I drank my share of red wine in my pre-undead days, but after my transformation, ha, ha, ha (another throaty laugh) I seemed to be unable to treasure the sip of the wine. Just a small question, I noticed there is a hospital at the bottom of the street when I flew over, would they perhaps have a blood bank?”

“You wish to donate blood Count?”

“Do not insult me, I might look like a comic figure, but I am serious. I was hoping that the hospital might donate a pint or two to me – ha, ha, ha (another throaty laugh)”.

“I noticed that you were only available for an interview at midnight. Do you still have problems with daylight.”

“Oh, the innocence and stupidity of the living. Of course I have problems with daylight. Do you think I sleep in dark places and retire to my comfortable coffin through choice? When I think of all the fresh, lively blood moving in the daily world and I am left to the human wanderers of the night, the surplus of mankind. Do you think a victim is at its finest after a visit to a night club or bar, the alcoholic twinge in the blood goes to my head. No, I much prefer something young and fresh. One of the reasons I like to hover at the window of a maiden sleeping peacefully. Even that is now a problem with all these modern burglar alarm systems and blinds at the window. Luckily my teeth regrow, I lost the point of one of my teeth last week when trying to bite through a metal slat. Oh for the days of open windows.”

“Well it was really nice talking to you Count, but I see the first rays of sun creeping over the horizon in the East.”

“Thank you for your consideration. I must go. Goodbye and thankyou for the meal.”

“But you said you do not eat food and I offered you nothing.”

“No problem, a vampire takes what he wants, especially when invited and you invited me.”

Ok, so now I only sleep during the day, go for long walks at night and thank goodness the local blood bank is just at the end of the street, although now and again I might partake of ……..

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A Halloween Story

I wrote this in 2009 but thought it would be suitable for this evening. The photo is new (did I use photoshop or not)

Dracula decided to spend the evening with the television, a nice comfortable evening at home in the castle. His life story had yet again been made as a film and it was being shown that evening. He always felt rather flattered, each film was something different. This time Flad Gritt had been chosen to play the vampire killer, one of Dracula’s favourite actors.

“What are we doing this evening Dracky?” and Dementia his wife entered the room.

“Dementia I am a count, and would appreciate being called Dracula at least, and this evening we are having a nice comfortable evening in front of the television.”

“Oh no Dracky, this evening is Halloween, it is our evening, everyone on the look out for a few horror film types like us, and we are genuine, just think of the nice fresh blood on the streets.”

“No Dementia, does not come into the question. The fridge is full of blood conserves I collected on my last night out in town. Why go to the effort of biting and sucking, when it is all hygienically packed and ready to use. I don’t like jumping on those living blood conserves these days. The human race is not as it used to be, might get some sort of disease. Deadly Ernest is not even leaving his coffin at the moment, still curing his attack of swine flu; most degrading, a vampire with swine flu.”

Dementia was not satisfied.

“But Dracky, Dracula or whatever, we havn’t been out for so long, and the taste of those blood conserves is just not the same. I even swallowed a piece of plastic packing last week. Come on Dracky, I bought a real nice costume for the occasion.”

“Dementia stop tantalising my neck with your teeth, keep them for a better purpose. I saw a cat outside in the yard. If you want something alive, then go and get it. Give me my warm slippers, my feet are cold; probably bad circulation.”

“Dracula you are becoming a grumpy old undead. If we go out it will do your circulation good, and we might even get a few treats from the living. Look at this dress I bought, isn’t it sexy?”

Dracula froze the picture on the television, it was just getting to the part where the vampire was preparing to plunge his teeth into the victim’s neck and he did not want to miss that part.

“That is a dress? How much did that cost?”

“It was very reasonable, only a couple of hundred.”

“Sorry Dementia you have been had. You paid so much for just a few black rags.”

“It’s a Halloween costume, but you being lazy, I suppose we can only watch that stupid old film on television instead of me wearing it. I don’t know what you see in those films, plastic teeth and tomato ketchup. If we go out we get the real thing and it will do you good, but take those slippers off before we go. Who has seen a vampire wearing slippers.”

OK Dementia, just for the sake of peace and quiet; flying or walking?”

“Walking of course, let’s mix with the living for a change.”

And Dementia and Dracula left the castle, but only after Dracula had dressed properly. Dementia did not like going out with Dracula when he was wearing his blue jeans and a t-shirt. She found it beneath their dignity.

They walked down the street and were soon confronted by some young humans, one dressed as a werewolf and the other with a skeleton costume.

“Trick or treat” the werewolf said.

“Clear off” answered Dracula “I am not in the mood for such stupidity.

“Dracky, be nice to the young men” said Dementia.

“Your should listen to your lady friend” said the skeleton, “otherwise you won’t look like a vampire, we will make some real blood and you will be the genuine thing, so let’s have a treat. Some money will do.”

“Please leave me alone with your threats, I don’t need money and have none.”

It was then that the werewolf and the skeleton pulled out two large knives from under their costume and attacked Dracula. They were not prepared for what happened.

“Did you see that Fred?” said the werewolf to the skeleton, “there is no blood. I stuck my knife into his arm and nothing happened.”

“Yea, funny thing Joe.”

“Oh, I see you two want to see blood, Well just let me have your neck, I have the right tools for drawing blood.”

After seeing Dracula’s grin showing his real, genuine teeth, the two yobs ran off.

“Did you have to do that Dracky?”

“What did you expect Dementia, that I would let myself be made a fool of by two dressed up living bodies. When I think of Jacko, my pet werewolf at home, he would have been insulted. Should have taken him with us.”

“Dracula you are a spoil sport. Look there are some children coming.”

“Trick or treat mister.”

Dracula was just preparing to pounce when Dementia pushed him away. “No Dracky, does not come into the question. Come here children here are a few treats for you”, and she produce some candy from her handbag and gave it to the children.

“Are you mad Dementia, that was a few helpings of fresh young blood you have sent on their way.”

“Dracky we were all young once. Don’t you remember how your parents always gave you candies at Halloween when you knocked at their door dressed up in a Halloween costume.”

“Well come to think of it Dementia, no not really. Back in the old country we didn’t go in for that sort of thing. We were more for reality.”

And our two brave vampires made their way through town, Dementia giving out her treats where she could, and Dracula trying to be good, suppressing his desire for a nice evening meal at the sight of so much fresh meat. Eventually Dementia gave in and allowed Dracula to fetch some fresh blood conserves from the hospital on the way home.

They arrived home tired and happy. Dementia was happy because she recaptured some of her childhood memories, and Dracula because he could at last see the new vampire film. He was a little bit disappointed at the end of the film. Flad Gritt killed the vampire with a nicely sharpened stake, straight into the heart. Dracula just prefers happy endings, where the vampire retires to his coffin and lives happily ever after and after and after.

WordPress Daily Prompt: Everything Changes

Walking down the street, you encounter a folded piece of paper on the sidewalk. You pick it up and read it and immediately, your life has changed. Describe this experience. 

Photographers, artists, poets: show us TRANSFORMATION.

So there I was, minding my own business and suddenly I found an interesting piece of paper on the pavement (we do not have sidewalks in Europe). I would have ignored it, but it was wrapped on a stone with a dried spaghetti string. Not something you find every day. I almost squashed it, were it not for the stone, and it was lying beneath the wall of the remand prison: you know the building in town with the iron bars at the window.

Shall I ignore this message or not? Does someone want to send a message claiming a miscarriage of justice, perhaps an attempt to escape? Broke the spaghetti string, which had become quite hard and brittle and unwrapped the paper and decided to read. The ink was red (or was it blood) and the writing written in a hurried scrawling way, as if there was no time to spare.

“To the finder of this message.

Please call tel. No. 666 6666 immediately. The time is ready. I feel it in my bones. The full moon will rise tonight. My deeds have been misjudged; I can only do what I have to. Tell Nick I will be ready tonight at 11.55, five minutes before midnight. Self burning letter after a minute, drop at once.

Vlad”

So what should I do with this I thought? The problem was soon solved; the paper began to turn brown at the edges immediately. I dropped it as it was aflame, and my fingers were burning: a devious way of calling for help. I could not go to the police for assistance; I no longer had any proof. I decided to call the telephone number on the note. I had not exactly memorised it but somehow the number seemed to suit the message, remembering the film The Omen, one of my favourites, and they were always mentioning the No. 666.

My mobile telephone was ready and I dialled.

“Hello, is that Nick speaking.”

“Who gave you my number?”

“I found a note on the pavement from Vlad at the foot of the walls of the remand prison with instructions to call you. Seems he will be ready at 11.55 tonight.”

“Who are you?”

“Just a passer bye: by the way I nearly got burns from the letter when it burst into flames.”

“Still up to his tricks huh? Ok, meet me at the cemetery, this evening at eight. I will be standing next to the crematorium, the third gravestone on the left.”

And with that he hung up.

So what should I do? If I do not attend this meeting, Vlad and Nick will both be disappointed. I could take the local priest with me for protection, but I do not know the local priest. OK, two pieces of wood will do, bound together like a l for protection and a clove of garlic, sounds like it might be useful. More garlic would have been better, but I used it all on a loaf of garlic bread I prepared to eat with the hamburger. Perhaps a gun with a silver bullet, but I have no silver bullets or a gun.

I made my way to the cemetery with a strange feeling deep inside my stomach. Was I going to meet something from another world, or was it the hamburger I swallowed in a hurry before leaving home. It was not such a dark night, although there were threatening clouds breaking the light from the full moon. Full moon? Am I mad going to a cemetery meeting Nick on a full moon night.

I could see the outlines of the crematorium looming in the distance, throwing threatening shadows on the surroundings and then I saw him. A tall appararition, but he was wearing a cylinder hat. He was swathed in a black cloak.

“Are you Nick?” I asked looking into a pair of red rimmed eyes.

“Yes” he answered in a quivering voice. Then he sneezed. “You need not to be afraid, I have caught a dreadful cold waiting around on this cemetery, the reason for my inflamed eyes.”

“Of course” and we both departed for the remand prison. Nick seemed to be quite excited and I had to run to catch up with him, he was moving so fast, almost seemed to be floating on the air. He even lost his cylinder hat on the way, did I see two horns protruding from his head? No, my wild imagnination or a trick of the light probably.

Eventually we arrived. Nick looked upwards to a window and whistled through his teeth. It was quite a loud whistle, but he did have two large canine teeth which seem to grow quite long. An answering whistle came and a figure appeared behind the bars of the window.

“Jump” said Nick

Vlad answered (I suppose it was Vlad) “The bars are in the way and that guy with you is carry a garlic clove and a wooden cross. No way”

“Don’t be stupid Vlad. What are you a costume bearer at a Halloween party or the real thing. Turn into something, one of those bats and fly through the space between the bars. I will deal with the anti-vampire props.”

“Good idea Nick” and I saw how the figure of a man became a bird and flew through the bars.

“Drop them” Nick said and I did. No good arguing with someone with red eyes.

I am sure you would love to hear what happenedd afterwards. Problem was I fell asleep somehow with this Vlad person standing over me. Nick was keeping watch. When I awoke I found I had two new friends and two holes in my neck. Now I never take walks along the pavement during the day: only at night, and Vlad is always with me. Now and again we meet Nick at the cemetery. We always pay a visit to the local blood bank. Vlad says it is more hygienic. You never know where those necks have been.

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