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    My Book

    Hey...that's not a bad name for a social media site. It occurs to me it could begin as our forum, by which I don't mean treefort, with a well-concealed series of links to treefort. A link that says "Let Your Adventure Begin" under the guise of an advert which seems to lead to a dysfunctional page... Accidentally click on a small outcropping of forest...


    "The Accidental Vampire"


    IT WAS THE END of May. On the road leading out of town, there was a picture of nothing.

    It was bitterly cold, for May. The sky may have been overcast, or the stars may have disappeared, but the rain and sleet bore down.

    "Nobody loves me," thought Pendleton, "Nobody cares."

    Somewhere in the wind, he heard the voice of his eldest sister, Veronica.

    "Don't say that," she said, "Pendleton is a man." Somehow, he knew she had begun to weep.

    He turned around.


    Chapter 1

    I WAS sitting on the roost. The sun was still stuck in the throat of the earth, but its light was racing through the grass.

    I was woozy; I had been up all night. The stars were cool in the heavens, and I stumbled in somnambulance through my back door.

    Lying in bed next to my blond-haired, blue-eyed porcelain doll, I complained, for his benefit, of my father.

    "He's a bastard," I uttered, this time with pride.

    "I still love you," said Kurt.

    "Well fuck you," said I.

    I hadn't slept for days; I was terrified to. Yet I wanted to so badly. My experiments fascinated me.

    I was well-pleased with myself, and, so, unlike me, had been mingling with my acquaintances in high spirits. But they had turned me down, once again, and for the last time:

    I was going to die, I knew, the pleasant warmth shedding the ice that encrusted my blue heart.

    I was going to close my eyes, and I would not awaken...not in this life, anyway.


      Chapter 2

      A SLIVER OF BRIGHT PINK blood trickled from the corner of Kurt's soft, peach lips.

      My eyes shifted to black curtains, a panel of white in the center. I had been driven blind.

      My skin was in invisible flames.

      I jumped out of bed.

      "WHAT THE FUCK?!" I bellowed, pulling out my hair. "KURT? WHERE ARE YOU?!"

      "Oh, there you are."

      Clothes still on, jeans and a red t-shirt and black wingtips, I fastened the cold tap hard left until the pipes burst with steam. Rain drenched my body, but it was no release from my quickly dissipating nerve endings.

      Calming, I checked my arm. Its flesh pale white with maroon blotches. Crashing out of the ripping shower curtain.

      Ripping the mattresses from the hide-a-bed, into the head of the sofa, the photons in the dark giggled gleefully, to my dismay.

      A loud explosion, the whoosh of a nuclear blast rocking the head.

      What had happened?!

      A motherless baby, I picked the fluff within, nestled inside the crypt. "I hope Susan's okay."


        Chapter 3

        Closing the back door behind me for a smoke on the stoop, filling the heavens with magical vapor for the few remaining, I had no memory of the night before.

        Though I was not privy, the second sun glared, two daggers jutting downward, a lion in a green Cape.

        Walking through a haunted neighborhood among ghosts, I wondered where the typical celebration was. The gallons of blood coursing through the veins nourishing the brain...

        The beating vestibule had vanished without a trace.


          Chapter 4: DEATH

          THE PENDANT that dangled loosely around my neck rested beneath the mirror atop the rim of the bathroom sink, gathering calcium.

          My grin caught me by surprise, as I had been unaware I was grinning. The sexy brunette's expression one of sheer fright; she had seen a ghost.

          I fondled her left breast, the Milky bosom heaving. "Take me," she gasped.

          The maw opened wide, fangs searing the disguise...

          I didn't sup much, already full, not knowing the repercussions of my actions. She slapped me across my blushing cheek.

          "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE?!" she demanded ornately, embarrassing me.

          "I'm calling the police," she said, phone already in hand, "It's three o'clock in the morning."

          Though she looked apologetic, she explained, "Yes? Someone was in my house..."

          I teetered, drunk and abused, down the middle of the highway. Blue and red lights strobing in slow motion, decorating the ether for what seemed a century.

          "Put your hands in the air and turn around!"

          The officer's gun trembled just once. I winced. His dismembered corpse sprawled across the hood of the patrol vehicle.

          "What are you arrested for?" I asked the wide-eyed passenger in the back seat.

          "NOTHING," he suggested.

          I don't know why, but I let him go.

          He stood, laughing, at the front of the car, why?

          "Well, see you around," I waved from the corn.

          "Yeah, see ya," and he turned into a bat.
          Last edited by neonspectraltoast; 07-04-2021, 11:36 PM.


            Chapter 5

            The awkward, naked longfellow, engulfed in flames, tried to climb the tall, pine green hedge. A disheveled human in a flannel robe, naked underneath, aimed his double barrel shotgun. "You're dead meat."

            "I came from outer space," whined our culprit, with a lisp.


            Susan threw a towel around her friend. He threw it off. She put it around him once more and ushered his blue body into the house.

            "Please, Susan, I need dark."

            "Dark?" she quizzed.

            Darkness, Pendleton wheezed.

            He climbed into her ice box. She sat beside it in the darkness, through the night, until the moon turned red.


              Cool :-)



              Chapter 6

              SUSAN tried to chew and succeeded, the Fruit Roll-Up resting in the black iron basin of her churning stomach.

              She had been raped.

              By Pendleton.

              But Pendleton, a misogynist?

              He was such a sweet man, a boy, really. Perfectly harmless. And...he had been out of his mind...

              And, though her mind protested, there had been something so pleasurable there. He was a total fucking femme anyway. Probably for the best.

              "Good morning!" boomed Pendleton, stepping into the kitchen, the sterling light all around him, "What's for breakfast?" Like a smooth detective, the refrigerator door was ajar.

              Retrieving a pound of hamburger, he tore open its packaging. Twenty percent. Why couldn't it have been one hundred?

              His fist went in, and, chunk by hearty chunk, he threw the crawling meat onto the checkered floor. About a half cup of blood.

              "You want it, don't you?" he mocked.

              Who was this person, she wondered, irritably. Who did he think he was, anyway. The asshole.

              "Why don't you get the fuck out?" she spat. She wished she could see the blood in the M&M mug Pendleton had stolen from the cupboard.
              Last edited by neonspectraltoast; 07-04-2021, 12:17 AM.


                Chapter 7: the blood!

                Solar eclipse. The clock hands spinning.

                Feces and gore, entrails strewn along the seafoam wall. Cozy. Susan and Pendleton, on their hands and knees, slurped up the life.

                "Let's make a salad."


                "In the kitchen?"

                "With what?"


                "A bowl."

                "Oh! I know what you're saying."

                Their mischievous eyes met.

                "I'm full, though," said Susan.

                "Let's make a salad, anyway."

                When the police arrived at the Johnson's, they found a bowl of orange glass, which, at first sight, suggested salad. But, upon closer inspection, it was filled, pitifully, with leaves of skin and flakes of scalp, adorned with teeth seeds and crispy Bacos.

                What the dressing was, I wouldn't hazard a guess, but it was sparsely used, like a honey vinaigrette.


                  Chapter 1.1 New Beginnings

                  The City of Maple Leaf was in shock. Sad expressions shopped in the populated markets and along the busy downtown thoroughfare.

                  Who had murdered Susan Johnson?

                  She had been such a kind woman, by all reports. Quiet, kept to herself.

                  I had encountered her once, though.

                  My shins lowered down the stairwell. Susan was sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor, nary a strand of her blonde hair exposed. I crawled into my sofa.

                  I loved it in Sophy. Her European features so elegant, yet pockmarked with roses. I could still roll over, lie on my back, and I enjoyed the sensation of the bar that jutted through the foul black fleece I used to cover it.

                  But what was I doing resting? I should be feasting. But I enjoyed being inside Sophy.

                  I knew that wayward souls were still out there. That the black hole sun would x-ray their true identities, and that I would destroy them. One by one.

                  Susan had become conflicted, naturally, and hadn't feasted in days. I wasn't certain she was even still living, for lack of a better word.

                  I counted my sheep: 7, 8, 9...

                  What had happened to eight and nine? They seemed strange, somehow.

                  I fell asleep, like a child, and when I awoke I was mollified, for I knew neither the day nor the hour.

                  I needed a cigarette.

                  I got out of my favorite place, stepped over Susan's lifeless corpse, and headed up the stairs. Cautiously, I opened the door.

                  The sun was positively beaming. I had no feeling, no desire to satiate my appetite for destruction.

                  Actually, food sounded good...

                  Was it day? Was it night? Had I gone off my meds again?

                  I tapped my tongue to my incisor, nope, nothing there, my blue Cape billowing gingerly in the breeze.
                  Last edited by neonspectraltoast; 07-04-2021, 04:24 AM.


                    Chapter 2.1

                    "IT MAKES me so sad that Paul is in Brasov," I thought. I should be invited, too."

                    I could only imagine what it was like there. For a man of my disposition, it was unlikely I would find a mate, someone to reap the beneficiaries of the night with.

                    Someone who would find me sweet, sweet blood.

                    But in Brasov, I would find a woman forever young, forever nubile.

                    Yes, but it pained me to think I would never grow old with another. I don't know why.

                    I craved a cigarette, but my resources had been depleted. In the throes of the wanton moonlight, one cannot remember money.

                    Though one does remember wealth.


                      I WAS SHOCKED to find out how few were trustworthy. Don't speak for Paul. Do not utter his namesake. Paul.

                      Paul stood outside Bram Castle. He had been thrown out. Was there a party inside?

                      He didn't want to know. "I don't love money, he said, but I do love having fun. And if that takes money, that takes some," he said.

                      His bloodcoholism had consumed him.

                      He walked angrily around the foot of the towering inferno of rock, until he came to a place most unexpected: a corner missing that made it seem as though there were parts of the castle no one had ever trespassed.

                      But why?

                      He placed a hand on frosty cinder, the slime wet beneath his fingers.

                      It was tricky footing. The avalanche fell into a valley, the shadow of the peaks in the distance forsaken by the moonlight. It had begun to rain.

                      It was damp in this little shack he had created, but dry. He could see in the dark. He saw a coffin.

                      The placard on the coffin read: Von Helsing. Funny, it was Von Helsing night.

                      He opened the lid and threw out the rotting corpse within. Bedtime.

                      As he lay on the greasy satin pillow, he noticed something sparkling in the darkness.

                      A bottle.


                        Chapter 3.1

                        I AM a devil.


                          Chapter 4.1

                          IT WAS Von Helsing night. The dumpster with the word "ice" scratched onto its face customarily left open allowed the vengeful spirits of the damned to trespass the Earth.

                          This very night, in fact. But tonight, it is closed.

                          (I hope.)

                          The sun was running on empty, its Corona dispersing into outer space, and I was headed to an all-night bakery for a jelly bismark.

                          I was off the hard stuff. Too much violence.

                          I went into the shop, killed the clerk, and left.

                          As I was making my way home, but whom did appear, but Paul. He was silently standing on the corner of Broad and Fifth, blocking my passage.

                          Not old whimsical Paul, but stern Paul. I knew, immediately: He was a Space Vampyre.

                          "Yes, and I'm the first," he said.

                          "How can you be the first?" I queried. "Or were you always a Space Vampyre?"

                          "I wasn't. But...I was." I missed old good-humored Paul.

                          I understood this, too, which took him aback.

                          "And I don't care who you've slept with, Paul. Sex isn't love, and I've got something better than love, anyway."

                          We were standing fifty paces apart. Me, a hand on my hip; and Paul, arms slung at his sides.

                          His expression was sad now; he was on the verge of tears. Then he saw me approach and cast a sheepish grin.

                          "And how weren't you?" I asked.


                            Found your book. Great that you are writing neon. Is the next chapter coming?


                            • neonspectraltoast
                              neonspectraltoast commented
                              Editing a comment
                              But there are actually dual gods, God and Bog.

                            • neonspectraltoast
                              neonspectraltoast commented
                              Editing a comment
                              And Bog is white, yin and yang. Together they form the Omnimax.

                            • neonspectraltoast
                              neonspectraltoast commented
                              Editing a comment
                              You think I'm gonna die, but I really AM the Riddler!