William Magnum, vampire hunter
Saturday, January 30, 2016
#confessionsofavampirehunter "When staking, follow though"
Young vampire hunters forget to stab through the body. If you don't stab through the body, it may bite you. And that won't do. Not at all. The whole idea is not to be bitten.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
#vampireesquire perfect for staking a #vampire #confessionsofavampirehunter
#LavoyFinicum wasn't a #vampire #confessionsofavampirehunter
Otherwise a gun wouldn't have killed him. He wasn't worthy of life ever lasting. Quite simply, he's just a dead terrorist. That's the best kind of terrorist.
William Magnum, vampire hunter
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
#AmmonBundy may be a #vampire
He hides from everyone in remote places. He isn't seen during the day, and he wants blood. And he lives off the government sucking money out of it. His teeth are large, and he tries to thwart authority. He's a vampire.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
#VampireEsquire #ConfessionsofaVampire begins
The William Magnum standalone novel is off to a roaring start. Not sure how long it will take me, but it will be brutal, melancholy and memorable. The fictional world of Moravia I created six years ago is making an appearance again. Origin stories are increasingly more popular, and this one has been fun to write so far.
Wednesday, January 20, 2016
Are #DonaldTrump and #SarahPalin #vampires?
Possibly. Donald Trump's hair died years ago. Sarah Palin looks awful, but that may cut against her being a vampire. She is a blood sucker, at least metaphorically.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Additional funding needed for disability reviews
Additional funding needed for disability reviews: I agree with Sen. James Lankford that the Social Security Administration should complete timely Continuing Disability Reviews (CDRs) for all individuals who receive disability benefits, as highlighted by “Identifying federal waste is one thing, cutting it is something else” (Our Views, Dec. 20). Social Security's disability benefits are crucial. They allow families faced with severe health issues, like cancer, premature birth or bad car accidents, to maintain some financial stability during difficult times.
Monday, January 18, 2016
#VampireEsquire Chapter 8 #vampire #vampirehunter
Fletcher
Turner awoke in darkness. He could smell
dirt, and he felt its wet coolness against his skin. He wasn't hungry for food, and he wasn't tired. But he did have the strange, new desire to
drink blood.
He dug up through the dirt, and he
found he was much stronger than before he went to sleep. He broke through the ground, and he emerged
in a large backyard behind a three story ornate house. Then he remembered he was in Paris.
Turner was naked, but he did not
feel cold or warmth. He felt a presence
near him, and it whipped around him.
"I hope you slept well,"
Vladimir said to him. He remembered
Lenin biting him. Then the realization
that he was a vampire hit him. He wept
tears of blood.
Lenin came forward and embraced
him. "There, there my child. Most react this way upon learning they are a
vampire. It is a death of sorts, but it
is also a rebirth. You are born to
immortality. You will live forever if
you continue to feast on humans. We
vampires are at the top of the food chain.
"I have a mission for
you."
"What is that
mission?" Fletcher's tears stopped.
"I want you to go back to your
country and help me gain even more influence in the government. But you cannot reveal you are a vampire. Your superior bloodline makes you impervious
to sunlight, but you must not be overconfident.
I have a book for you that explains what to do. It is an ancient survival manual so to
speak."
Fletcher nodded his head, and Lenin
led him towards the house. A second
later Fletcher felt his back up against the brick wall with claws digging into
his arms. “I hope you grasp the enormity
of your task.”
“I do,” Fletcher said, his voice
trembling with the sort of fear sons reserved for disapproving fathers.
Lenin’s mood lightened as his fangs
popped back in, his teeth gleaming like polished Steinway piano keys. “Good, then we will be fine. There is one thing to start I want for you to
do.”
“Yes,” said Fletcher, submissively.
“Make Inman a vampire so that I can
control him through you for now. We need
to keep this a secret. If managed
properly, no one will ever know. Inman
is single and has no children.”
___________________________________
Mark
Inman gazed out of his hideaway office onto the Mall and allowed himself to
consider the possibility that he may be president someday. "It is for the
greater good," Inman mouthed to himself.
Fletcher Turner would be returning
from Paris soon, and Inman was eager to hear about the trip. He had spoken briefly to Fletcher at the
airport, but the conversation had to stay brief due to the secretive nature of
the mission.
Inman thought of all the crap he had
to take from the members in his party and from people he grew up with. Tough to be a Jewish Republican, he thought.
He had worked hard in business as a
hedge fund manager and made hundreds of millions. But political power, power at any cost, was
what he craved.
He won his first bid for office in
2000, and he moved rapidly up the ranks in the party. He rose to House Majority Leader when the
Republicans had major gains in the 2010 midterms.
He needed the big money to win. Without the big money, he would be just
another promising candidate.
He needed an infusion of cash to
beat the big boys, and Vladimir Lenin might be able to provide that, although
no one could ever know.
He also needed a mechanism to fan
the flames of discontent. The Tea Party
was replete with nut jobs, and the Teat Party would allow them to succeed under
a cloak of legitimacy.
A knock on the door stopped Inman's
reverie. "Come in," he said.
Fletcher Turner walked in with a
smile on his face. He appeared much
taller and more sure of himself than he had been when he left.
"I take it from your expression
it went well."
"You could say that,"
Fletcher responded with confidence and ease.
Inman thought his teeth were much whiter. Strange.
“So tell me what he wants
Fletcher. What’s the ask?”
Fletcher considered how to
respond. He couldn’t tell him
everything. Not all right now. “It involves some real estate deals. Some tax breaks on construction projects here
financed by foreign projects.” Fletcher
neglected to mention Lenin was a vampire or that he sometimes worked without
the Restoration Vampire League. At least
Lenin and the league realized it was to their benefit to work together until
the humans were subjugated; but he wasn’t sure if he could go through with
their plan.
“That doesn’t sound too
unreasonable,” said Inman.
“That’s what I thought. Sounded like a fair trade to me.”
“I’m sure there will be more, but I
guess we will find out more later.”
“I’m sure we will.”
“Thanks Fletcher, but now we need to
get back to our business here.”
“Indeed we do sir,” Fletcher said
defiantly.
“Excuse me Fletcher?” Obviously Inman didn’t appreciate the
sarcasm.
“We need to get down to a different
kind of business sir.” Fletcher’s opened
his mouth to reveal gleaming fangs.
Saliva strings gripped the top fangs and held to the bottom like cobwebs
on a mummy’s tomb out of a 1950s horror movie.
Inman’s eyes glowered. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. What’s with those stupid fangs? Last I checked it wasn’t Halloween.”
“No sir it isn’t.” Fletcher grabbed Inman and slammed him on top
of the desk. This is where Inman soundproofing the office is to my benefit, he
thought. Inman gasped inaudibly, but no
words came out. The bullshitting
chatterbox couldn’t talk.
Fletcher sank his fangs into Inman’s
neck and tasted the coppery blood. Delicious, he thought, and so satisfying to control the man who has
controlled my life. Now I am the boss,
he thought.
He continued to drink, and he
thought about the place he would bury him, in an empty grave in Arlington
Vladimir Lenin purchased years ago. Then
he would rise from the dead undead and a vampire.
_________________________________________________
“Vladimir,
we agree with the need to take the United States, but we must be unified. You cannot act unilaterally,” said Gustav Von
Trapp, the Swedish scion of the Von Trapp family, and leader of the majority of
the Restoration vampires in Northern Europe.
“I am not acting unilaterally. No one wants this plan to succeed more than I
do. I’ve waited for it longer than any
of you and sacrificed more.”
Lenin found it difficult to control
his anger.
Plaintively, Gustav said, “All of us
know that Vladimir, but we must work together.”
He grasped Lenin’s shoulders in a fatherly way.
Then both men turned to the others
in the room. Vampires from all over
Europe sat in the audience around a giant round table in a dark, underground
bunker. Restoration vampires had met for
hundreds of years in this bunker, and they were all related through Lenin’s
blood. Easier to meet in a neutral
country rarely ravaged by war.
Lenin didn’t feel much better. He felt patronized. Idiots,
he thought, they have no clue what to
do. They want to be gradual. Overwhelming force is the only way to
go. We will have the numbers. Numbers are what matter.
Lenin had his mole in the United
States. They didn’t know about
Fletcher. Not yet. He would tell them when the time was right or
maybe he wouldn’t tell them at all. Some
things they didn’t need to know.
_______________________________________________________________________
Ronald
Drum entered into real estate deals all over the world where Nero Corporation would
do the construction, and Drum would develop the properties. Drum also sold his name, which was a well
established international brand, though whether the investors actually made
money was another story.
Each time Drum didn’t ask
questions. The outer structures of the
buildings were built, and one day the buildings would be occupied by
millions. The shear scale of the
projects meant each of the projects would take years to complete, but it was
worth it.
Meanwhile teenagers and other young
people disappeared. No one ever found
out where they went, but they had to go somewhere.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
#VampireEsquire Chapter Seven #vampire #vampirehunter
Magnum
stood in the background as Pierre talked to Roland. He remembered his initial skepticism about
the existence of vampires even though he found out about vampires by seeing
them, not hearing about them.
William Magnum enjoyed being a vampire
hunter. He often thought about how he
discovered vampires and what began his vampire hunting career. It all began with the grisly death of his
mother at the hands of a vampire.
But he barely remembered his
mother. Strangely with each kill he grew
stronger as the memory of his mother dimmed.
Eventually he killed so many vampires that he couldn't recall the
number.
Magnum found killing Restoration
vampires made him forget the failings in his own life. He had three failed marriages and a string of
dead end jobs until he became a vampire hunter.
It was the only thing in life he succeeded in.
He supposed he could trace all his
failures back to his mother. He didn’t
trust women, and he couldn’t focus. He
wandered through life rudderless until he discovered he could be a vampire
hunter. He knew was good at that.
He was the best of the Society of
the Silver Stake. There were many other
members from better backgrounds, but none possessed his skills.
Although he’d been recruited by
Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr (code names of course) both of whom attended
Ivy League schools and were from prominent families, he never felt he fit. He was an outsider. Eventually, however, he embraced this
renegade persona. It worked for
him. People respected him. I’m a
cowboy, he thought. But I don’t know if I will ever ride off into
the sunset. My sunset may be darkness
and a dirt nap if I’m lucky.
He liked to think he was responsible for
maintaining the delicate balance between humans and vampires. He didn't hate all vampires-- just the bad
vampires.
The Secret Service employed Magnum
on a regular basis. He was kind of like
an unofficial member.
He needed to quit thinking about his
mother, who he could barely remember.
Instead he should focus on Roland, the new project. He and Pierre would get Roland ready.
Magnum’s cell phone rang, and he
found a room to duck into so he didn’t disturb Roland and Pierre.
“Magnum, this is Agent Watson.”
“That didn’t take long,” said
Magnum.
“I wanted to see how things are
going.”
“Hard to say at this point, but I
think the boy has potential. Just a
feeling I get.” More or less, Magnum
believed what he was saying, but he also needed to sell the decision makers on
the importance of the mission as well as the likelihood of its success. The longer the mission lasted the more
profitable for him it became.
Magnum would fight vampires for
free, but he would be un-American if he didn’t want a payday. Any self-respecting vampire hunter would
demand some form of payment.
“I
can’t say a lot about the mission over the phone because we need to keep
information on an as-needed basis, but there’s going to be a meeting tomorrow
early in the morning. I will text you
the time and location.”
“I guess it involves the White House.”
Watson laughed, “Always trying to
find out more information than you need to know earlier than you need to know.”
“That’s why I’m good at my job.”
“True. Just follow instructions.”
Magnum knew what the job would
consist of.
Although President Elder wanted
Leblanc's help, he had to maintain a level separation between himself, the Secret
Service and Leblanc. That is where
Magnum came in. Magnum would work with Leblanc and Roland Walker to hunt down
Restoration vampires and kill them. The
White House needed plausible deniability
Pierre
hadn’t always been so friendly to humans.
Although he possessed an amiable and kind nature—for a vampire—he had
been vicious in the past, and he wasn’t proud of this.
The last time he murdered a human
though was in the 1920s in New Orleans, and it cured him of the desire to
consume human blood. He couldn’t do it
anymore because he hated himself afterwards; whatever momentary satisfaction he
may have felt always dissipated when he thought of his brutal vampire nature.
For a few years he subsisted on
animal blood until he heard about private blood banks in Chicago. Then he moved there and began buying up blood
for food and thinking about ways for humans and vampires to peacefully coexist. If he were going to continue existing, he
needed a purpose, one befitting the memory of Quinta.
Pierre
watched as Magnum talked to Roland, and he could see the flickering flame of
doubt in Roland’s eyes; but he also saw some recognition of the reality of the
situation.
Pierre climbed some scaffolding at
one end of the cavernous warehouse, and he pulled a rope, which drew up a
rubber dummy dressed like a vampire.
Then he placed the vampire on a hook attached to a clear microfilament
fiber. The vampire could be released at the
appropriate time, and, once shot (assuming it was hit solidly), it would fall
off the filament to the ground.
Once the dummy was secure, Pierre
went to the other side of the warehouse at the middle of the field. He secured another vampire and prepared it to
be released at the appropriate time.
He then secured several other
vampires. They would be used to train
Roland.
Then he glanced down and watched
Roland and Magnum talking. Roland
reminded him a little bit of Louis Abellard (the man he brutally killed in New
Orleans) except Roland had seen more horrors.
The only horror in the death of Louis Abellard was Pierre right before
he drained him. So much regret, he thought, so
many things I could have done differently.
If
I hadn’t caught the eye of Servus Marcellus, vampire name of Drago, I would
never be in this position. I would have
died hundreds of years ago, naturally, like I was supposed to.
Now he needed to be strong, to be
practical, and to focus on the task at hand of training Roland. Pierre had a job to do, and none of this
would mean anything if he failed at his job.
____________________________________
Roland
wanted to learn more about hunting and killing vampires, and Magnum was eager
to teach him. The idea that a vampire
could be in favor of killing other vampires perplexed Roland.
"I don’t understand how Pierre
wants me to kill vampires or how he supports the killing of any vampires. In fact, I am still unsure that vampires
exist in spite of what I saw"
Magnum considered this a fair
question. "From what I've heard of
Pierre and from what I've observed, he understands the need for coexistence
between humans and vampires. He is
almost 2,000 years old. He knows
vampires are as old as humanity. The two
have always existed beside each other, but it has always been a precarious
balance.
Magnum led Roland into the large,
dark warehouse where Pierre had been setting up. He flipped on some faint lights. He climbed up on what appeared to be
scaffolding with a clear plastic shield over it. Behind the shield was a control panel.
"I have no idea what to
do," Roland shouted up to Magnum.
"That's okay. You will learn. Take the quiver filled with silver arrows and
the silver stabbing stakes. Then put on
the holster and the gun with silver bullets.
Then pick up the crossbow.”
Roland did as he was told. "Now what do I do?" he shouted.
The lights went off. Roland felt a rush of air pass him, and a
spotlight shone on a pallid dummy with fangs.
Instinctively, Roland rolled to the right, and the dummy swooped past
him. Then he felt another rush, from the
right side. He was ready this time. He shot the crossbow where he felt the
presence of the dummy. He heard a
metallic ping.
"Great shot!" Magnum cried
out from the darkness. "Vampires
move so quickly you must develop a sense of where they are moving and how they
move. If you try and aim at them from a
distance, you will miss. There are so
few good vampire hunters because few know how to shoot a vampire.
"The idea is to strike a death
blow with the first shot, but this is not always possible. The silver arrow, however, will slow down the
vampire. This is key because if the
vampire is slowed down then you will be able to attack it with your silver
stake. The silver stake will slide deep
into the vampire with relative ease, but the trouble is being able to aim
properly and getting a clean stab.
"Okay, let's practice
more. You haven't much time to train for
your first hunt is tonight.” Roland’s
palms began to sweat, and he felt his blood race.
“I believe it important to send you out right
away. Don’t worry because you won’t be
alone. There is a particularly nasty vampire in the South Side of Chicago, and
we need to get rid of him. I will be
there with you, but it is important you make your first kill. Restoration vampires are growing in number
everyday. And this is a mission that will go on and on because we will never be
able to eradicate bad vampires."
Roland knew he possessed unusually
keen skills. However, he felt unsure. “Isn’t it a little soon to be hunting
vampires?”
“No.
You learn by doing. I will be
there with you.” This answer didn’t
satisfy Roland. A lot about this
situation didn’t satisfy him, and it pissed him off.
“That’s bullshit,” Roland shouted
losing his temper. “How the hell am I
supposed to be ready to hunt vampires so soon?
Let’s assume you are telling the truth. If I screw up, I die or worse
yet get made a fucking vampire!”
Magnum chuckled, and, before Roland
could get even angrier, Magnum responded to Roland, “Roland, I know this is a
lot to take in, but you can handle it.
We need you.”
“Save all the 911 Merica
bullshit. I’m tired of that. I heard enough of it in the military.” Then he calmed a bit, and said, “What if I’m
not ready?”
“You will be ready for the ultimate
test when the time comes. We don’t have
any other choice.”
Pierre walked out of the
shadows. “You did fine with the first
few dummies, but that isn’t enough. You
need to be able to kill real vampires, and there isn’t much time. You need to be ready soon. Tonight you will get your start. Either you will do well or you will end up
dead or undead and a vampire. It’s your
choice.”
Pierre
turned around and walked off into the dark warehouse.
Saturday, January 16, 2016
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Best result possible for #YallQaeda #OregonUnderAttack #oregonterrorists #webcomics
Sunday, January 3, 2016
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