vintagegal: Dracula (1931)
Who was the original vampire?
Most say it was Count Dracula,
who had unlimited power and charm.
Enough charm to lure followers
all the way to hell and beyond.
He had one descendant.
Where can he be found today?
Is he one of The Dead in Oasis, Florida?
Come and find out.
Read me a story.
Tell me a tale.
Love blooms at night
in this fairytale.
THE DEAD GAME
DOES CURIOSITY ALWAYS KILL THE CAT?
My heart pumps fear through my veins,
bringing me anguish and pains.
Why must I be the curious one?
The one who can’t let the deed be done.
I must follow the noises to the basement,
where something is making an awful statement.
A voice called to me from my rumpled bed.
The sound echoed endlessly in my head.
I descend the stairs to the darkness below.
The noises combine to form a loud bellow.
A hiss hits my ear as claws rake my arm.
My silly cat thinks I mean him some harm.
I offer soothing words but he wants to flee
just as the door shuts and locks behind me.
The light bulb goes out leaving me in the dark.
Do I now hear a dog’s whimper and shrill bark?
Chills taunt me as I go down the dark stairs,
following the whimpering and stray hairs.
Feathers float in front of me.
I don’t know what this can be.
I step on something squishy and soft.
I find a light and hold it aloft.
I lift my foot and the tail retreats
to the chair where it has hidden treats.
With the bright lantern held high,
I search for the source of a sigh.
My neighbor sits with her panting pals
of the furry sort in guys and gals.
“Am I also welcome to the party?”
I ask the pig-tailed girl, laughing hearty.
She replies, “Of course, you are, my dear neighbor,”
A point she refuses to belabor.
I join the circle on the floor,
as the cats and dogs eat some more.
Cake and cookies for all the guests,
even ones who have been great pests.
My black cat joins in with tail held high,
sniffing at the desserts and brown pie.
At least this story has a happy ending.
No one wants another tale to be pending.
Write your story.
Add all the details.
Include all the people.
Leave no event untold.
Leave no rock unturned.
Write your book.
Your life story.
Write it in blood.
Shana was quiet during the tour as she tried to absorb what she’d just heard. She understood that it made some kind of weird sense. But why was the rocking chair in the attic facing the deserted mansion? She’d heard about the evil in End House, but she’d always assumed that the mansion stood empty and didn’t have a wicked history attached to it.
Hurrying down the front steps, Shana said, “Now we have to visit that mansion and discover what’s hidden over there that is so important for Abe and Anna to watch over. And what did she mean about it being supposedly deserted? Either it was or it wasn’t.”
Linda shook her head. “This place terrified me. I don’t know if I can handle another one.”
“Nothing happened to us. It appears that Abe and Anna are good and are just trying to protect our town from evil vampires.”
“That means they’re vampires themselves. How could vampires be good? How could we trust them?” Linda paced up and down the road in frantic circles.
“You accept the fact that vampires exist, but yet you can’t decide whether to trust them or not? I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the existence of vampires,” Shana said with a dry chuckle.
“I’m happy you find this amusing.”
“We’ve witnessed supernatural events at End House, so why would believing in vampires be farfetched? We should just accept the possibility of their existence and continue on from there.”
“Okay, let’s visit our next place before I chicken out…I just hope that I won’t have to say ‘I told you so’ afterward.”
The church is on fire.
The town under attack.
Shadows in the wind.
Bringing hell to our homes.
Murder to our families.
Who are they?
What do they want?
We must fight back.
Fight for our lives.
Fight for our town.
Before it’s too late.
Before more disappear.
To the ranks of The Dead.
No more bodies on our shores.
No more victims of their wrath.
We will fight to the end.
THE DEAD GAME
I hear voices from inside.
Laughter and cheering.
Clinking of glasses.
Sailing forth on
the silence of the night.
I hasten my steps.
I open the heavy door
and peer inside.
An empty room faces me.
No one in sight.
I step inside.
I can hear the voices.
I squint through the darkness.
A light shines on the tables,
where figures are drinking.
Transparent forms of people,
who once inhabited this inn.
They will laugh and be merry
until the end of time.
I raise my glass to them.