Saturday, October 31, 2009

Vampires Amongst Us

Our culture delights in tales of the Vampire; that suave, powerful creature that preys on the blood of mere mortals for its sustenance. But no one has ever dragged a blood drinking, immortal "Count Dracula" wanna-be into the light for proof so this creature continues to thrive in myth and storytelling. But behind all good tales there lies a grain or two of truth and herein we expose the vampires amongst us.

First let us dispel the classic form. Through misunderstanding of disease and only recently studied aspects of the physics of decomposition have scientists been able to adequately explain the cause of some of these myths. There are conditions of humidity, airtightness and makeup of human bodies that have been shown to slow down and sometimes even suspend the decomposition process. However, when these preserved bodies are exhumed; brought into the sunlight as it were, the reintroduction of fresh air has disrupted that balance and the decay sets in, sometimes at accelerated speeds.

The pathology of comas are even now not entirely understood but sometimes research doctors have studied people who's life signs have dropped so low that it requires advanced technological devices to see that they ARE still corporeal. So it is no wonder that people in the past would be horrified when someone "dead" would suddenly rise up again.

Since the first recorded instances of vampires; coming from the Sumerians who five thousand years ago wrote of the "ekimmu" the "evil gust of wind" that drains the life force, people have tried to determine what comprises vampirism. Today, research has shown that there is truly a vampiric force at work in the world. Any scientist will tell you that all life is comprised of energy and it is this energy that is the target of transference by what has come to be known as the "psychic vampire".

No, the psychic vampire is not a demonic revenant; it is a much more frightening phenomena in that they are living, mortal humans. They are the individuals who's life force, the "pranic energy" which emanates from all living things, has gotten out of balance or has been depleted.

Under normal circumstances, we each create and use this energy to propel us through our lives. It is usually a balanced flow from creating it with the energy absorbed from food and air and used through the muscle and mental activities we perform. There is a normal fluctuation in the energy flow. When fatigue toxins build up in our bodies we feel "tired". After a rest, so these toxins can be removed by the blood, we will feel "refreshed".

The psychic vampire is a person in whom this flow is perpetually imbalanced and therefore they boost their own levels by contact with other people and "absorb" that energy for themselves. You will most likely recognize the signs of psychic vampires. They are the individuals who need constant attention, sympathy, or reaffirmation of their worth. They are the often belligerent people we meet who demand they be noticed and obeyed; the ones who waste our time being made to give them our attention or else.

To their credit, this phenomena is not usually a conscious process. They feel weak and run down and for some reason talking to or being around other people makes them feel better, for a while. Without realizing it, they create a psychic vortex around themselves that draws life energy towards them. Meanwhile, those who have been in balance find themselves increasingly "drained" of energy and can find themselves "exhausted" after dealing with these people.

The main defense against this type of parasitic attachment is to recognize the symptoms and try to avoid these people. Keep a clear mental shield up in your thoughts that they cannot absorb you and make sure to hang up the phone when you are through, no matter how hard they try to keep you on the line and sucking you dry.

Vampires Amongst Us Contributed by Wm Douglas & Simone Mefford and Copyright © 2007 all rights reserved. No part of this story may be used without permission.

Are Vampires Real or am I Crazy?

In 1987 in September in Saskatoon Sask I went looking for my 11 yr old son Matthew and my 5 year old grandson Q, and their friend Chris also 11. I had been just sitting in my bedroom listening to bluegrass music alone when  at about 6 pm I had the urge to get the boys, something was wrong. I got my 50 lb terrier, brown and white dog, on a lead and looked around outside.

I went to Victoria Park just a block away. I had told the boys to stay away from the river. As me and the dog crested the hill in the park towards the river there were the boys, playing around, with a couple who looked strange. Both were Indian people; a man of about 30 and a girl of about 17 and both looked very pale even for Indians. The girl was skinny with waist long black hair, she looked like a street person, the man wasn't as thin but he also looked like a street person. The girl wore tight jeans and a t-shirt of white, the man shirt and pants and shoes, the girl had shoes on.

As I came upon the group Jenny, the two year old dog's, hair stood up and she looked scared and did not want to go near the group. Usually Jenny just loved Matt. As I watched I saw the girl bending over my son like she was trying to kiss his neck. I flipped out and yelled at her, 'get away from my son pervert... before I call the cops'. Her and the guy left. It was a cloudy day and the sun was starting to set.

I got the boys home, fed them, they got there bath, and went to bed by 10pm. I went to listen to music. At around midnight I went to check on the boys. The bedroom window was open and all three were gone. They had gotten on to the back roof by the window, got on the small shed roof and got down to the ground, I was mad as hell... so I went outside and listened for the boys. Sure enough I heard  them laughing from the park. I broke off a switch from a bush, I was going to tan a few hides.

I took my two dogs with me to the park, Jenny and a small poodle cross kibbles a black little 5 lb dog, neither on a lead. I again found the boys in the park again the Indian girl was trying to kiss Matt's neck. I ran her off and told the boys to get home. They ran up the hill. The dogs took one look at the girl and fled in terror with their tails between their legs. I was yelling at that girl calling her a pervert etc. under a street light in the park. She kept backing away from me. Then she rose up in the air about 12 or 14 feet. A fog was around her a bit,she glared at me and hissed. That's when I said, 'you're not a pervert you're a vampire,' I was so mad I said you come back here I will stake you myself. She hissed and covered her eyes. Her fangs were like a large house cat's. She just glared down at me hissed and vanished into the night. I never saw her again.

My son doesn't realize to this day I saved his life. He doesn't believe in ghosts etc. and today he is very well known here at his job. I couldn't figure out what protected me in 1983. I got so depressed I tried to cut my wrists. Jesus himself came to me to stop me and he left a blessing on me in the shape of a light in the form of a cross, only evil can see. A few mediums have commented on it. I cant see it but I was told this after the 1987 vampire happening.

I have not related this story to any one... but after a person sees the evil they're never the same. The boys never saw the girl go up in the air they were running home.

Written by Jewel Shadden, Copyright 2009

Friday, October 30, 2009

Not Your Typical Vampire

I believe Vampires are as much different from each other as you are from I. Vampires are perceived by many (me included) to drink blood in order to survive, and that maybe a similarity in which all Vampires share just like how you and I must eat and drink. But think about if it wasn't just blood they craved?

About 3 years ago in Fresno, California, I was attending a funeral with my father and brother and in our culture, it lasts 3 days.  It is said in our culture that the body has 3 spirits that when you die, one stays behind at the spot where you died, one ascends to the gods to be judged, and the final one guards the body at all times.

On the first day of the funeral the spirit is said to roam the funeral home, drawing out its boundaries, securing the body from spiritual and physical harm. It is said that the second day is when the spirit is allowed to freely roam the world, away from the body if it so chooses. This day was the night my brother and I saw what we came to conclude as a Vampire.

My brother and I sat a fair distance from the coffin, able to see the weeping families standing over the coffin.  When the families stepped away from the coffin to sit, a  man no different from anyone else in the room stood and approached the coffin. At first it seemed as though the man was showing his share of sorrow placing his hands on the coffin and looking straight down at the body. Moments later, however, he started to fidget with the body almost as if to take something from it. My brother and I noticed his awkward movements but weren't sure if it was something preplanned so we sat and watched. A funeral attendant happened to see the man and called for him to stop. Several people ran towards the individual which at that point turned to hiss at the rest of us with two small fang-like teeth. He quickly turned towards an exit door and fled leaving nothing behind but the small amount of blood-stains on the door.

Never had I ever seen anything like that before and, to this day my brother and I both, still debate among ourselves whether or not it was reality or just something our minds created in light of the situation.

In addition, we both spoke to many elders about this incident in which we received information regarding Vampires that attend funerals in order to steal the hearts of the recently deceased. Interestingly it would seem that the Vampire struck on the day in which the spirit who guards the body leaves it.

Written by Sao Xiong, Copyright 2009

The Girl in White

He was sulking a little, standing at the sidelines while all the other men danced with their pretty partners. His girl had not come to the dance that night. Her mother was ill, and so his girl had remained at her side. A fine pious act, he thought sourly, but it left him at loose ends.

His friend, Ernesto, came up to him between sets with a cold drink and some words of encouragement. "After all, Anita is not the only girl in the world," Ernesto said. "There are many pretty girls here tonight. Dance with one of them."

Bolstered by his friend's words, he started looking around the dance hall. His eye fell upon a beautiful young girl standing wistfully at the edge of the floor beside the door to the terrace. She was dressed in an old-fashioned white gown and her skin was pale as the moon. Her dark eyes watched the dance hungrily from her position behind a tall fern, and he felt his heart beat faster. Such a lovely woman should be dancing!

He made his way through the bustling crowd and bowed to the girl in white. She looked startled by his addresses, as if she had not expected anyone to notice her that night. But she readily assented to dance with him, and he proudly led her out onto the floor for the next set, all thoughts of Anita gone from his mind.

Ernesto and some of his other friends gave him odd looks as he danced with the girl in white. A few times, the man opposite them bumped right into them as if he had not seen his partner at all. He was furious and wanted to stop the dance and make the man apologize to the girl in white, but she just laughed and hushed him.

When the dance was over, he hurried to get his fair partner a drink. Ernesto approached him at the refreshment table. "When I told you to dance, I meant with a partner," his friend teased him.
"I was dancing with a partner," he replied, irritated by his friends remark. "The loveliest girl in all of Mexico!" "You've had too much to drink, my friend," Ernesto replied. "You were dancing by yourself out there!" He glared at his friend and turned away without answering him. Making his way back to the girl in white, he handed her a glass and asked her to stroll with him along the terrace. The night was beautiful, the sky full of stars, and he stared at the girl in white with his heart in his eyes as they stood looking out over the beautiful scene.

The girl in white turned to him with a sigh and said: "Thank you for the dance, Senor. It has been a very long time since I had such pleasure." "Let us dance again, then," he said infatuatedly. But she shook her head. "I must leave now," she said, catching up her skirts with one hand and drifting toward the stairs at the side of the terrace. "Please don't go," he pleaded, following her. "I must," she said, turning to look at him. Her eyes softened when she saw the look on his face. "Come with me?" she invited, holding out a pale hand.

His heart pounded rapidly at the thought. More than anything in the world, he wanted to go with this lovely girl. And then his mind registered the fact that he could see the stone wall of the terrace through the girl's hand. His desire melted away before the shock of that realization. He looked into her face again, and realized that she was fading away before his eyes. At the look of horror on his face, the girl gave a sad laugh and dropped her hand, which was nearly transparent now. "Goodbye," she said, her body becoming thin and misty. "Goodbye." Then she was gone.
He gave a shout of terror when he realized he had been dancing with a ghost. He bolted from the premises, leaving his horse behind, and ran all the way home.

When Ernesto came the next day to bring him his horse, he told his friend the whole story. Ernesto whistled in awe. "You saw the spirit of Consuela, my friend," he said. "She was the daughter of one of the local aristocracy who lived in this region more than a hundred years ago. She died of consumption the night before her first ball and they say her spirit sometimes attends the local dances, hoping to claim one of the dances that she missed."

He shuddered at the thought of his dance with the ghost. "I will not be visiting that dance hall again," he told Ernesto. "From now on, all my dances will be with Anita!"
And he kept his word.

Written by Joselyn Guerrero, Copyright 2009

Sunday, October 25, 2009

The Little Girl from Hell

The girl in our house is playing hide and seek and she's no angel.

Me and my mom and two little sisters just moved in to a new house. The story of the house was about a Doctor who made the house into a little hospital. So one day me and my mom took my two little sisters to boarding school. When me and my mom came back from the boarding school we felt that something wasn't right, so that night, when we were unpacking our stuff me and my mom heard a girls voice, she said "Find me I'm hiding, Come mom Lets Play."

When we heard that, we thought that's really strange because my sisters aren't at home and its just me and my mom. So we went and looked around in the house for any sign of what we just heard. Well when me and my mom crossed the hall we saw I little figure. What we saw was no imaginary thing, this was the real deal. The next thing we noticed is that our bedroom door is closed and we knew that we didn't closed it our selves. So when me and my mom went to that bedroom door, I reached out and grabbed the knob, but when I did it the door wouldn't budge, and then we heard a horrible scream. That was really awful, I almost ran a door in to a wall... no jokes.

Well the next morning we went and we found a sweater laying under the table in the living room, and then the little girl starts to play hide and seek. Every time I could hear her little voice saying "I'm hiding mom, Come find me" And then the doors began to slam shut and the table in the living room starts to move across the floor, it creeped me and my mom out.

After that I was so scared that I didn't even want to sleep in that house. Neither of us wanted to stay there anymore But soon after we decided that we didn't want to live there anymore, we couldn't get out of the house, we tried to break windows and break down the doors but nothing helped, we were trapped in our new house. If it were you, you wouldn't even go there to look at that house, its really creepy and that little girl isn't a friendly one she is a bad, bad, bad, ghost. The girl tried to lock me in, in my own room, she played with my porcelain dolls and if I tried to take them away she would scream and make things even worse.

Friends or family can't even come and visit, this little girl always messed things up. Like one day I got a little puppy, the sweetest thing ever. She would literally kick the dog and bite his ears. The poor dog died after all that has happened to him.

Eventually we could move out of that house, but it didn't stop that little girl from finding us and making our lives even worse than before. Guys and girls if you ever come upon such a thing, never try to convince them that it is your house and you want her to leave. That didn't help us at all.

She was with us until last year 2008. We lived with this little girl for almost three years, then one day she just disappeared and we never saw her again. This was my story about the little girl who played hide and seek but she was no angel, she was the little girl from hell.

Sent in by Sindie, Copyright 2009

Friday, October 23, 2009

Old Lady and the Blood

It was the summer of 2001 and my family and I had gone to the Dominican Republic to visit my family out there. It was a sunny day when we arrived at the airport. Once we came out of the airport, we got in a taxi and they took us to our town where we were going to be for a week. Later that day, we ate lunch and then we talked for a while. We were recalling the fun times when something fell in the kitchen. It sounded like a plate fell.

We all hurried over and there was blood over all the plates but the plates were not broken. My grandmother picked up the plates and threw them away. At night, we all went for a ride in the camp near our house. This camp was very cold at nights an very windy in the daytime. We were passing this house which had been abandoned by this old lady. As we were passing it, I saw a figure inside the window and I told my dad. He said that it was my imagination and that it as seeing things.

As we were going to leave the camp, the car stopped abruptly and my father that had been driving screamed. I got so scared and we all got out of the car. He said that there was a little old lady standing in the middle and that he stopped the car abruptly. He checked under that car and there was nothing. I then said that I thought that I was the one imagining things. My dad said to stop and that we are going to go home quick.

We got home and when we entered the house, there was a little old lady. She had white hair, red gloss and a big old yellow dress. I screamed so hard that I peed in my pants. The lady then opened her mouth and blood started to pour out. I then tried to kick the lady and then she disappeared. My mom and dad came running over and asked what had happened. I told them and we decided to stay at a friends house over that night and go back in the morning. We stayed at out neighbors and the night went fast.

We went back the next morning and everything was good until we saw the body of the little lady on the floor. She was dead. She was very old and when we went to the kitchen to get a body bag, she wasn’t there when we came back.

A few years later, we found out that the lady died in the 1950’s and that she was going all over the towns trying to find her little son that died because he was mentally challenged. Since then people have reported that she still roams around and that she doesn’t bother anyone anymore.

Written by Jonathan Rodriguez, Copyright 2009

Zombie Trouble

It’s a dark, dreary October evening in the smoky hills of Tennessee. The cool, fall air is still and it seems not a soul is stirring in the small town of Chester on this slow moving Friday. The local forecasters predict rain for the rest of the weekend, so it seems no hunting is in order for the simple folk of the area. The main stretch of shops and businesses in “downtown” Chester are all closing down shop for the weekend. The air seems stagnant and still, a calm seemingly innocuous evening, typical of the small town of about 5,000.

At the Golden Star Apache Casino on the edge of town the regulars are gambling away their weekly wages and drinking the local fare of bourbon whiskey and snacking on complimentary beef jerky. Among them is Mick Donnell, a local who owns a pawn shop right outside of downtown Chester. Mick is a handsome, 35-year-old who refused to grow up. Everyone in Chester seemed to have some sort of secret to hide or a shameful vice keeping them from getting out of the one horse town. In Mick’s case, it was a long and messy love affair with gambling, booze, and a few local women, two of which he had gotten pregnant and had a kid with. Between his failing pawn shop and child support Mick was barely making ends meet.

Still, Mick seemed to make it week to week, getting his fill of blackjack, cheap whiskey, and, if lucky, a pretty girl to take back home. His country charm seemed to work, for some reason, on many of the ladies that went to the Golden Star Casino. He lived by a rigid schedule; working at his store by day and drinking and gambling by night.

Mick collected the rest of his chips from the blackjack table and turned to his lady friend of the night.

“What do you say we head to my place and have a couple of drinks?”

A cute young blonde, Sandy smirked at Mick. “Sure, why not.”

Taking Sandy by the hand they cashed out the meager sum of their chips and headed to the parking lot to Mick’s old, red ‘89 Bronco.

“What a weird night,” said Sandy.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, it just seems like it’s too quiet or something. Feels like there’s a chill in the air.”

And, indeed, there was a chill in the air. A chill that Mick would never forget for the rest of his days. A chill that would remind him of what was to follow for as long as he lived.

Mick and Sandy arrived at Mick’s one-bedroom house in an old wooded neighborhood near the casino.

“What a lovely home,” Sandy snickered sarcastically.

“It’s no Playboy mansion, but I get by.”

Sandy smiled as they headed head inside.

“Would m’lady like a glass of wine?,” Mick inquired.

“Why yes, I certainly would, good sir,” said Sandy playfully.

Jack headed to the kitchen and grabbed the most expensive bottle he could find, a $15 bottle of shiraz he’d bought a year ago and had completely forgotten about. While uncorking the wine, Mick thought he caught something in the corner of his eye scampering through the backyard.

“Must be the whiskey getting to me,” he thought, and let it go.

Mick glided playfully into the living room with the glasses filled with the cheap wine. “Hope you like shiraz.”

“Perfect,” Sandy said, not knowing a shiraz from a glass of Boone’s Farm.

Trying hard to set the perfect mood for the evening Mick lit a fire in his shabby little fireplace.

“So, Sandy, what is it you…”

All the sudden a hard knock on the door interrupted their conversation.

“Mick! Hurry!” came the voice behind the door.

Mick recognized the voice of Doug, his 27-year-old neighbor notorious for growing and smoking his own marijuana. Mick suspected Doug was either being chased by the cops or just really stoned and paranoid about something.

“Mick, open the door!” Doug yelled again.

Mick opened the door and Doug rushed into the house, out of breath and reeking of pot, and carrying a fireplace poker.

Mitch grabbed Doug by the arm, “Doug, what the hell are you doing? I have a guest here!”

“Mitch, this is serious. I think zombies are attacking the neighborhood!”

Mitch was not surprised by this response. Doug was known for such antics like running around the neighborhood warning his neighbors that the FBI was tapping all of their phones because of an alien conspiracy. Mitch knew he wouldn’t leave unless he played along with Doug’s imagination.

“I know, Doug, this is bad. We’ve been securing my house and gathering supplies to defend ourselves. It is imperative that you warn the rest of the neighbors before the zombies get any closer.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you would believe me,” said Doug quizzically. “But, I knew you would be prepared for something like this, Mitch. You’re a thinker.”

“Doug, you go warn the neighbors and we’ll keep securing the house against the zombies!”
This seemed to sound good to Doug. The hero that he was, Doug knew he would have to take charge and warn his neighbors against the imminent danger of zombies in his neighborhood.

“Ok, Mitch. I’ll warn everyone while you prepare.” Doug ran out of the house in a drunken stupor on a quest to save the lives of his beloved neighbors, armed bravely with only his courage and a fire poker.

Mitch strolled back into his living room, Sandy awaiting him in only her bra and undies. “Well, hello there!” said Mitch excitedly.

“I knew you’d like that. What was that anyway?”

“Just my crazy pot-head neighbor, Doug. Thinks the neighborhood is being attacked by zombies.”

Falling on the couch helplessly Sandy said, “Oh no, you’d better come over here and protect me!”
Mitch, surprised at his good fortune, hopped atop his helpless little maiden and they began kissing and groping vigorously.

As their little love session was heating up, they heard a shrill scream from the street. Almost immediately they heard hard pounding on the front door and glass breaking from the front windows. Mitch flew off the couch and to his horror, saw a horde of bloody, rotting corpses climbing into his house. He looked at the faces of these disgusting creatures and noticed the familiar faces of his neighbors and friends, and Doug!

The zombies scrambled ravenously toward Mitch and Sandy, blood dripping from almost every pat of their bodies. Mitch grabbed Sandy and ran to the kitchen and slammed the door.

“What the hell is going on!?” Sandy screamed.

Mitch couldn’t even speak as he grabbed the biggest, sharpest object he could find.
The zombies began crashing through the kitchen door and through the back porch, trapping Mitch and Sandy. Mitch began stabbing every piece of slimy flesh he could reach. Trying as hard as he could to hold on to Sandy, Doug and the rest of his demonic, flesh eating neighbors ripped Sandy limb from limb. Her flesh and blood was strewn throughout the kitchen as Doug grabbed Mitch by the neck.

“Mitch. Wake up, Mitch!” A dealer at the casino tapped Mitch, who was passed out drunk at the blackjack table. “Mitch, it’s two AM. We’re closing the casino.”

Mitch hopped up and stumble to his feet. “What just happened?” Mitch managed.

“You’re drunk dude. You’ve been passed out here since eleven.”

“Where’s Sandy?”

“The girl you were with? She left four hours ago, you were making an ass out of yourself. Guess you’re not getting lucky tonight, bud.”

“At least I didn’t get eaten by zombies,” said Mitch.


“Never mind.”

Mitch left the casino and headed home by himself, glad for the first time that he didn’t go home with a pretty girl named Sandy.

Written by John McKoy, Copyright 2009

Into Zombies? Check out the World Zombie Defense website -.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Things to Ponder About Vampires

Some babies exit from the womb yearning for the first taste of food, but instead is the first taste of blood from the mother and this distinct smell and taste impressed in their sub-conscious mind until one day the same recollection should bring back the yearning. Then the biting need emerged. The recollection of baby’s chewing the rubber comes back with full delight.

This primitive urge and memory bring one closer to animals with a lower level, that gives one more comfort in sharing with. They are not worshippers related to the devils realm. But only independently by one’s own obsession to be the king on earth. The isolation he feels and the distinction of oneself is unbalanced. To keep from the injustice of depression, one chooses the extreme, is in love of oneself only. Fear cast onto him, but in belief to make oneself stronger, then trying to transplant it onto others.

You won’t call Michael Jackson, the one always with the umbrella, a vampire. But how many are there can be compared to a superstar. But many people’s skin disease can be developed by weakness and by kind of collapsed lungs, these are the symptoms of starvation of oxygen.

There is a saying. Three times the lie to convince the people. 100 times the lie can convince oneself. To the Catholics and Christians, lies are forbidden.

Blood becomes the pursuit, but garlic is disgusting. A bloody tampon worn all day in hot summer will be full of garlic smell. What’s the contradiction here. Will like it or not? If food comprised of is only 1 specialty, the blood, then the sensitive and unaccustomed stomach induced in long term is comprehensible.

Garlic is one of the indigestive food that can be a burden to a weak stomach! Even an ordinary mortal will burp too.

Weak body results with sensitive to sunlight. With further more accustomed to dark environment, the eyes’ pupils dilate, and can see more clearly in dark. There, a person is isolated into more concentrating of details of trivial surroundings, that develops perception to minute change, then the reflex seems to be progressing. Just like blinding your eyes, can help improve the quickness of reflex. It’s just a practice in effect.

Glaucoma, an eye disease that changes eyes color, gifted like the eye sight of a bat. If bitten by a disoriented ‘rabies’ bat, you can get all benefits that a bat has, the ultraviolet sensitive, and all that made up a bat. On top of it, it is the liver, which harbors the diseases, can cause eyes problems.

Staying in places without sunlight, the ghosts also are attracted to their sides finding interest in encouraging them even more.

In blood, the diseases are plenty, like bird flu, mad-cow disease, pig disease, and a particular bacteria in cat that can change a person’s character to be lusty, and the human’s bacteria H. Pylori will damage the stomach further more.

These diseases they carried are contagious through mucus and saliva exchange. Constipation or diarrhea is common.

The mixing of various diseases develop cancer kinds of cells, will mutate the behavior substantially. The rage rises accompanied by hate of isolation. The compass magnitudes abnormalities of these malignant diseases by the degrees of turning, however thought by oneself possessing the ‘Force’, without realizing it’s just a magnet of chaos.

Only after death, without the brains, they mutate further more into beings they dreamed of, only at last they turned into the real vampire-ghosts sucking blood of animals and even humans, and capture the was-human ghosts as their companions as a compensation they can’t have in real world.

The vampire-ghosts are usually found in remote abandoned houses.
Only if human lives are victimized, will these ghosts be destroyed by the able. In some cases, the red-eyed in human form of creatures or ghosts is just a signature of hate, not necessarily a demon nor a vampire.

To me, they are just poor souls of the abandoned.
Xavation can only be done in your real earth years!

Sent in by Sai Chan, Copyright 2009

Thursday, October 15, 2009

School Hell

There he was, in the empty hallway, a knife strapped to his ankle and a gun held firmly in his grip. Lurking, as if ready to aim for anybody who went his way. He was tired of the pain, agony, and stress everyone had set on his shoulders. This was the moment to make it all go away.

"Hey look at the new loser!" Bryan, the senior jock, teased.

"I love your clothes Albert!" Clarisse mocked.

"Oo... I'm scared of that nerd!" Josh accused.

"Leave me alone! What did I ever do to you guys! Go live your own lives!" Albert screamed. He was tired of how this clique and everyone else at his school treated him. He didn't understand why they all made him look like such a push-over.

"What did you say punk?" Bryan said pushing Albert up against the chain-linked fence.

"Uhh-," he stammered, "n-n-nothing.."

"That's what I thought you said," Bryan had finally let Albert down with a loud thump to the concrete.

"Lets go guys." Michelle dismissed.

"What are their problems?" Albert mumbled picking up his things. He finally arrived home to find himself face to face with his drunken dad. His mother had died two years before from a case of cancer and Albert's dad had went through a dinking depression. Every day Albert would come home either to find his dad laying on the sofa after an injection of heroin or find him wasted after an all day drinking fest.

"Where the hell have you been?"his dad asked suspiciously.

"I had to stay after school to finish a test," Albert lied taking a risk at getting caught and beaten.

His dad eyed him for a numerous amount of seconds and slapped him, "it took you that long? Get out of my face. I don't want to see your face!"

"Burn in hell," Albert said under his breath.

"What?" his dad had lunged toward him but Albert ran and slammed his door shut and locked it.

"That's it! Why does everyone treat me like I'm inhuman?" After a couple minutes of punching his tile floor, Albert got up and looked through about a dozen shoe boxes until he finally found his hand gun and a six inch knife. He knew exactly what to do with it.

He finally arrived at school ready to start his plan. He grabbed the gun out from his bag and held it up in the air and let out a warning shot. The alarm had already came on before but he wanted them to know he was there.

"Michelle." he whispered. He saw her run past the hallway he was standing in. He ran after her and held her hostage. He dragged her outside and saw the police's faces shocked.

"Put the gun down and let her go," Chief Lopez told Albert calmly. Suddenly Albert felt extremely dizzy and weak. He let Michelle go and held the gun to his head. "No! Albert! No!" The shot was fired and everything went dark.

Sent in by Cynthia Martinez, Copyright 2009