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garoteWhile exploring the town in the woods, I found an enormous Victorian mansion. The front door was open so I wandered in. The rooms were small, laid out in a confusing jumble with narrow hallways and steps connecting them, and incredibly cluttered with glass lamps, end tables, overstuffed chairs, tapestries, throw rugs, and tiny pieces of sculpture. Someone had been living here a very long time.
I sat down on the steps leading into the kitchen, to rest a while. I wasn’t sure I could find my way back out of the house.
The vampire walked past me in his tattered black cape, hunched over. He was muttering and turning the knobs on the doors, which were all locked. From his awkward shuffling I could tell he had to use the bathroom, but he was so aggravated and his house was so confusing that he couldn’t remember which room it was. I laughed. Then I caught myself, and said, “Sorry. I’m laughing with you, not at you. I have the same problem sometimes.”
He found an unlocked door and went in, slamming it behind him.
The lady vampire came over to me, from across the kitchen. She seemed to glide over the floor. She was dressed all in black, and drying a big ceramic dinner plate with a dish towel. She said, “My husband gets confused when he has to poop.”
I nodded, companionably.
She said, “He’ll feel better tonight. By the way, you’re welcome to stay here. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs.”
I got up and wandered through the house until I’d climbed enough stairs to be certain that I’d gone up at least one floor. At the top of one staircase I found a large landing with a hallway branching off in both directions, and a bed against the far wall, underneath a window with bars in it. The bed was made, but a bit dusty. “This must be the guest room,” I thought.
I walked down the hallways and observed that there was a big master bedroom at one end, and a smaller bedroom at the other. The smaller bedroom had clothes all over the floor and posters on the walls, as though a teenager lived there.
I went back to the landing and sat down on the bed. What time was it? Should I be sleeping now? I couldn’t tell. Did I have any luggage? How was I going to brush my teeth?
As I was pondering, the teenage vampire came up the stairs. She was dressed in black, of course, but not in formal clothes like her mother. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and flat sensible shoes. She looked more like a beatnik than a vampire.
She came up to me and said, in a hushed voice, “They’re going to try and kill you and eat you at night. They’re so used to doing it, they don’t even mention it any more. You’ll need weapons; something sharp. Look around, quick! It’s almost dark!”
I stood up, and looked around wildly.
“Not here!” she said. “There’s no weapons here! Look downstairs! Go!”
She hustled me over to the stairs and almost shoved me down them. As the daylight faded I went from room to room with renewed purpose. Sharp things! Maybe I could find a sword? A fireplace poker?
I found a fireplace, but no tools around it. There were no weapons on any of the walls. The shelves were mostly books. I started looking behind furniture and under rugs. Where was the kitchen?? Eventually I opened the panel on the front of a grandfather clock and found a screwdriver inside. Behind a bookshelf I found a rusty dinner knife, jammed in the crack between two floorboards. Its age made it feel valuable, like an artifact. This would have to do.
One weapon in each hand, I tried to retrace my steps to the bed. It was well after sunset now. What was that weird wailing sound I just heard? I turned a corner in a hallway and there was the vampire, barreling towards me two feet above the floor, arms outstretched, glowing slightly. He looked very upset.
I raised my screwdriver and went “AIIIIGGH!” and swung at his chest. He passed right through me and disappeared around the bend in the hall. Then I heard a door slam. As I stood there, dumbfounded, I heard the distant sound of running water. How embarrassing. He just had to pee really bad, and I tried to kill him on the way.
I found the stairs leading up to the guest bed. I was not going to just hang around waiting to get killed. From there I strode into the master bedroom. The lady vampire was there, tucked into the four-poster bed like a granny in a fairy tale, complete with a nightcap and both hands folded over the edge of the covers. I leapt onto the bed and stabbed the screwdriver down through the bedsheets, aiming for her heart. As it penetrated, she disappeared, leaving a cavity of air, which collapsed.
“That will stop her for tonight at least,” I thought. Vampires have to be killed every night, before they get you. Then they come back in the morning, and it repeats.
One more to go. I ran out of the master bedroom, down the hall, and burst into the smaller bedroom. From behind the door the teenage vampire lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders, trying to take a bite out of my neck. I dodged to the side and brought the rusty knife up, burying it in her chin. She hissed and fell down on the floor.
“She’s just pretending,” I thought. I bent down and stabbed the screwdriver into her neck, holding her in place, then pulled out the knife and used it to cut her head all the way off. There was no blood. It seemed way too easy. This knife must be magic after all!
I stood up, leaving the knife and the screwdriver on the floor, and wondered what to do next. Maybe now I could get some sleep?
I heard the teenage vampire laugh. Her head was looking up at me. “You’re so funny!” she said, and grinned with a calliope of sharp teeth.
Her body turned over and pushed itself upright, then stood. It was between me and the door. Her neck was a jagged white stump, devoid of blood. It was not breathing. She advanced on me, a step at a time, backing me into the closet of her room. I tripped on a heap of laundry and fell back.
Some distance away, I heard her head: “Ha ha ha haaa! Perfect!” Her body reached back and pushed the closet door shut.
Standing on the ancient shag carpet, surrounded by banks of somber clothing, beneath the feeble yellow glow of an old bulb in the ceiling, her body tore off her shirt, shoved off her pants and underwear, and ripped her bra aside. Then she strode over and sat down on top of me, and clawed my shirt up over my head. I was too confused to fight back - and then I was unsure if I wanted to.
The bulb went out. In the darkness, as her body tore hungrily at my jeans, I heard the muffled sound of her laughter through the door.
I sat down on the steps leading into the kitchen, to rest a while. I wasn’t sure I could find my way back out of the house.
The vampire walked past me in his tattered black cape, hunched over. He was muttering and turning the knobs on the doors, which were all locked. From his awkward shuffling I could tell he had to use the bathroom, but he was so aggravated and his house was so confusing that he couldn’t remember which room it was. I laughed. Then I caught myself, and said, “Sorry. I’m laughing with you, not at you. I have the same problem sometimes.”
He found an unlocked door and went in, slamming it behind him.
The lady vampire came over to me, from across the kitchen. She seemed to glide over the floor. She was dressed all in black, and drying a big ceramic dinner plate with a dish towel. She said, “My husband gets confused when he has to poop.”
I nodded, companionably.
She said, “He’ll feel better tonight. By the way, you’re welcome to stay here. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs.”
I got up and wandered through the house until I’d climbed enough stairs to be certain that I’d gone up at least one floor. At the top of one staircase I found a large landing with a hallway branching off in both directions, and a bed against the far wall, underneath a window with bars in it. The bed was made, but a bit dusty. “This must be the guest room,” I thought.
I walked down the hallways and observed that there was a big master bedroom at one end, and a smaller bedroom at the other. The smaller bedroom had clothes all over the floor and posters on the walls, as though a teenager lived there.
I went back to the landing and sat down on the bed. What time was it? Should I be sleeping now? I couldn’t tell. Did I have any luggage? How was I going to brush my teeth?
As I was pondering, the teenage vampire came up the stairs. She was dressed in black, of course, but not in formal clothes like her mother. She wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, and flat sensible shoes. She looked more like a beatnik than a vampire.
She came up to me and said, in a hushed voice, “They’re going to try and kill you and eat you at night. They’re so used to doing it, they don’t even mention it any more. You’ll need weapons; something sharp. Look around, quick! It’s almost dark!”
I stood up, and looked around wildly.
“Not here!” she said. “There’s no weapons here! Look downstairs! Go!”
She hustled me over to the stairs and almost shoved me down them. As the daylight faded I went from room to room with renewed purpose. Sharp things! Maybe I could find a sword? A fireplace poker?
I found a fireplace, but no tools around it. There were no weapons on any of the walls. The shelves were mostly books. I started looking behind furniture and under rugs. Where was the kitchen?? Eventually I opened the panel on the front of a grandfather clock and found a screwdriver inside. Behind a bookshelf I found a rusty dinner knife, jammed in the crack between two floorboards. Its age made it feel valuable, like an artifact. This would have to do.
One weapon in each hand, I tried to retrace my steps to the bed. It was well after sunset now. What was that weird wailing sound I just heard? I turned a corner in a hallway and there was the vampire, barreling towards me two feet above the floor, arms outstretched, glowing slightly. He looked very upset.
I raised my screwdriver and went “AIIIIGGH!” and swung at his chest. He passed right through me and disappeared around the bend in the hall. Then I heard a door slam. As I stood there, dumbfounded, I heard the distant sound of running water. How embarrassing. He just had to pee really bad, and I tried to kill him on the way.
I found the stairs leading up to the guest bed. I was not going to just hang around waiting to get killed. From there I strode into the master bedroom. The lady vampire was there, tucked into the four-poster bed like a granny in a fairy tale, complete with a nightcap and both hands folded over the edge of the covers. I leapt onto the bed and stabbed the screwdriver down through the bedsheets, aiming for her heart. As it penetrated, she disappeared, leaving a cavity of air, which collapsed.
“That will stop her for tonight at least,” I thought. Vampires have to be killed every night, before they get you. Then they come back in the morning, and it repeats.
One more to go. I ran out of the master bedroom, down the hall, and burst into the smaller bedroom. From behind the door the teenage vampire lunged at me, grabbing my shoulders, trying to take a bite out of my neck. I dodged to the side and brought the rusty knife up, burying it in her chin. She hissed and fell down on the floor.
“She’s just pretending,” I thought. I bent down and stabbed the screwdriver into her neck, holding her in place, then pulled out the knife and used it to cut her head all the way off. There was no blood. It seemed way too easy. This knife must be magic after all!
I stood up, leaving the knife and the screwdriver on the floor, and wondered what to do next. Maybe now I could get some sleep?
I heard the teenage vampire laugh. Her head was looking up at me. “You’re so funny!” she said, and grinned with a calliope of sharp teeth.
Her body turned over and pushed itself upright, then stood. It was between me and the door. Her neck was a jagged white stump, devoid of blood. It was not breathing. She advanced on me, a step at a time, backing me into the closet of her room. I tripped on a heap of laundry and fell back.
Some distance away, I heard her head: “Ha ha ha haaa! Perfect!” Her body reached back and pushed the closet door shut.
Standing on the ancient shag carpet, surrounded by banks of somber clothing, beneath the feeble yellow glow of an old bulb in the ceiling, her body tore off her shirt, shoved off her pants and underwear, and ripped her bra aside. Then she strode over and sat down on top of me, and clawed my shirt up over my head. I was too confused to fight back - and then I was unsure if I wanted to.
The bulb went out. In the darkness, as her body tore hungrily at my jeans, I heard the muffled sound of her laughter through the door.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 07:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-05-25 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-09-18 08:56 pm (UTC)As I was going through papers last month, one of the many things I turned up and collected in one place (my papers had been in total disarray for years) were my original dream notebooks from my late teen years. I had typed them all up long ago and I am pretty sure I found the Word document that contains them, but just in case I missed anything later judgment would like to keep, I've been reading through each page and comparing with the typescript. I end up laughing so hard (as I did reading this) that I have to keep it for times when I'm alone in the apartment and can't do it in public!
no subject
Date: 2018-09-19 01:39 am (UTC)If there isn't already, there should be a podcast where people read out their own teenage journal entries from 20+ years earlier...
no subject
Date: 2018-09-19 05:30 pm (UTC)Well, it was something Jim Morrison said:
"There are things known, and things unknown. In between are the doors."
I read that, and thought about it, and decided how true it was.
It is very true. A "door" can represent a change, or a move from one place
to another.
Therefore, you are moving from a place that is known, and moving to a
place unknown. By moving, you are opening those doors and walking through them.
The same can be applied to any experiment you try.
Possibly unknowing, Jim Morrison landed on a great philosopical point.
And, much of my own thinking is influenced by what this guy said.
I mean, a lot of his phrases are just loaded with evidence of great
thinking.
He wasn't the dope-head he put himself up to be. In fact, he had graduated
from college.
So, I take very seriously what he said.
no subject
Date: 2018-09-19 07:50 pm (UTC)Mortified! Yes! I remember hearing about that show and wanting to submit a bunch of stuff for reading, but never going through with it, then forgetting about it... Perhaps I should check that out again...
no subject
Date: 2018-09-19 01:50 am (UTC)There is no way my brain deliberately planned hidden motives for a character in a dream. My brain is just not that clever. But it's hilarious how it works out.