?

Log in

The · Judas · Effect · Stories


Dark and twisted recounting of a modern vampire

Recent Entries · Archive · Friends · Profile

* * *
Judas stood for what felt like an eternity in the warm aromatic Southern California air outside the Hotel Del Coronado. A light rain tickled her skin as its tiny droplets fell. At times the little droplets would delve down into her leather corset top and navigate with cautious baby steps down her cleavage and once in a while even kiss her nipple. The warm air bristled around her in an airy soliloquy while she watched the front doors of the hotel intently. Judas' source told her that Jude and Dahlia were hold up here sucking and fucking endless nights away wrapped in a fleshy mass in the Honeymoon Suite.

To the casual observer, or in this case voyeuristic observer, it seemed they were inseparable and their individual features indiscernible. Jarvis King could not tell where one naked body began and the other ended. They twisted together and writhed in a perverse snake-like cohesion of body and blood. Jarvis many times had to pause the video feed to jerk himself off before he could continue documenting their time together. He kept reassuring himself that the tapes were for posterity and there was nothing wrong with jerking off for posterity's sake. Jarvis was a very dear and trusted friend of Judas' and he had never steered her wrong or let her down before. It was easy to entrust him with finding Jude and Dahlia. She had phoned him on the way and caught him mid-coitus with an inflatable sex toy he had named Katie. He named his blow up doll Katie to commemorate the perfect blonde surfer girl from his home town who kicked him in the balls when he'd asked her out on a date.


continuedCollapse )
Current Location:
Chicago, IL
Writer's Mood:
creative
Soundtrack::
"It's Been A While" by Staind
* * *
Judas stood for a long moment eyeing the house as it burned. She had paid and dearly to buy it for Jude. It was the only pure and decent gift to him after all the atrocities and abuses she had committed against him. Now here it stood covered in flames. The Fire Department was having a hard time getting to the house because traffic was a mess in the Wrigleyville neighborhood of Chicago, IL that night due to the Cubs’ game. Judas knew the whole place would be rubble before they ever got one hose trained on it. It made her want to cry and scream before tearing out the throat of the next passerby. She imagined how it would feel to gash someone’s throat open and let the blood splash her face and chest as she drank from the fount like a child at a drinking fountain.
 
She decided she would have to get some idea what happened here. If indeed her last remaining child was dead it meant she was really and truly alone now. Judas hoped she was wrong, she held out hope that Jude somehow managed to escape this blaze. On the far side of the house she found evidence of a battle. There was broken plate glass all around an ashen mess near the wrought iron fence. Just then she noticed a man on the front steps wheezing with the death rattle but for all intents and purposes still alive. She pulled the enormous claymore sword from his gut and rolled him onto his back where he writhed and tried to turn onto his side again. He was in his mid twenties and had a face with evident and old knife scars. He also had a glyph tattooed on his wrist, Aragon Del Fuego’s glyph in fact. Judas knew immediately that Aragon was behind this and it was probably an attempt on her life. She picked the man up and moved him down the street to a rented garage she used to park her old classic Harley Soft Tail classic which hadn’t run in years.
Writer's Mood:
creative
Soundtrack::
"Holiday In Cambodia" by Dead Kennedys
* * *
 
             Early evening creeps in on little padded feet. It creeps silently over the canvas of the late afternoon. The light fades ever so subtly, bit by bit, until the darkness snuffs it out entirely. The sun disappears and the night is born. This was normally my favorite time of day but lately I had been in a wretched state of melancholy. Judas had not been back for eleven months. I had received not one letter, not a call, no word at all in fact. To say that I was worried would be a grave understatement. I needed a distraction to help me keep my mind off things. As luck would have it I got exactly what I wanted; be careful what you wish for, you just may get it.
 
***
 
The crash of glass shattering into thousands of crystalline shards across the smooth marble floor jerked me awake at mid-day. I next heard the metallic bouncing, scraping, scuttling noise of a canister followed by a loud hissing as the hallway filled with smoke. In an instant I was up out of bed, naked and pissed off, guns at the ready. I narrowly ducked behind the bedroom door as it was kicked open. I could smell the intruder’s salty sweat mingling in the billowing smoke from the smoke grenade. I noted how heavy and cold my guns felt in my hands. The steel had been hung up on the bed posts cradled in the hand made leather holsters Judas had bought me for several days. I dared not go out for fear I was being hunted. At first I thought it was just paranoia but as I stood there silent behind the door it became clear someone was after me. As the intruder looked about left and right I prepared myself to fight my way through any number of would be assassins.
 
The intruder passed on to the next room believing mine to be empty. I slowly peered around the door to be sure the intruder was gone. I slid the dresser drawer open ever so slowly and pulled out a pair of very much worn black leather pants along with a black cotton turtle neck. I put these on quickly. I cautiously opened another drawer and drew from within a black ski mask, leather driving gloves and a pair of dark Gargoyle sunglasses from the bowl on the top of dresser. I slinked over to the closet and took my leather jacket and Kevlar vest out and put those on hastily. I found a pair of socks to wear on the floor and pulled them and my motorcycle boots on in a hurry. I paused to listen but heard no foot steps.
Writer's Mood:
creative
Soundtrack::
"Juke Joint Jezebel" by KMFDM
* * *
I know it’s been a while so here you go.

"Judas Black: Gut Rot Whiskey"

Vampires kill to live... to survive. My take on it is that since their hearts don't beat and they don't breathe the body needs fresh blood to keep going. Obviously their bodies do not make their own blood cells, and they do not eat regular food. The essential building blocks of life are unavailable to them and so they derive their sustenance from human blood. Similarly since their bodies lack basic nutrition and proteins they are highly flammable and susceptible to things like the sun's ultraviolet rays and, my favorite, fire. Vampires are like parasites, but there is another organism that derives all it's sustenance from blood. Can you guess what it is? The answer is easier than you think. Babies, in utero derive all their sustenance through their mother's blood stream by way of the placenta and umbilical cord. It is helpful in my profession to think of vampires as babies as sick and degenerate as that sounds.

I am scared to death of vampires but not scared at all of babies. When a vampire rears up at you, teeth gnashed, shadows swirling or some other "special effect" power looming and it's easy to lose your nerve. Focus on their weaknesses and you might be able to pull that trigger without shitting yourself. I hunt and kill vampires for sport and for my own enjoyment. My name is Judas Black but everyone calls me Jude. Don’t laugh about my name my parents were huge bible thumping Beatles fans. Not only that but I have killed for less. I am a vampire hunter. I also happen to be a vampire myself. Funny you say? Yeah it is, but not funny 'Ha ha', more funny like weird. For simplicity’s sake I will refer to myself as Jude and the vampire who created me as Judas. Yes we have the same first name. Let me take you down memory lane.

***

It was a cold night in Chicago, a real fucking cold night. The year was 1995 and I was 25 years old. It was mid January. The news man said minus ten with wind-chill but it felt like minus one hundred and falling. The wind sliced through my torn Levis 501 jeans tearing at the delicate flesh beneath with its visceral claws. Old man winter was doing me no favors that night as I trudged along Michigan Avenue in my Nirvana T-shirt, grey flannel shirt, hooded sweatshirt and trench coat. I hadn't gone out in a few days and the weather just got worse and worse. That night I had to leave the apartment, I was compelled to do so by some unknown force or maybe I was just bored, hungry and tired of those four blank white walls. I tried my Harley Fat Boy but the freezing, melting and refreezing process going on all week had trapped the front wheel in ice. I paused a minute to consider my options, check myself in the side view mirror and adjust my gun belt and knife holsters so I was sure they wouldn't show from under my worn black leather duster. The idea of zooming down the drags of downtown with wind-chill slicing at my skin right through my leather was less than appealing so I left the bike there and started walking down Michigan avenue south toward the loop.
continuedCollapse )
Tags: , ,
Writer's Mood:
contemplative contemplative
Soundtrack::
Bauhaus: "Bela Lugosi's Dead"
* * *
"Dominic Pearson Part 2"



The darkness was alive, not alive with activity but alive as in sentient. Dominic knew now with his new senses that the blackness he saw all around was alive with colors, new depths of perception and patterns he could simply not see when he was breathing. Judas had spent a few weeks with him cooped up in the apartment teaching him the rules and what was expected of him. He was instructed about the others, other vampires who lived by codes of honor and discretion. He thought it was rather wasteful to take being a vampire for granted. 'Tonight' he decided 'I'm having some fun'.

Dominic looked out across the darkened street. Everywhere people scuttled back and forth like roaches under the street lamp's glow. The glow of the street lamp itself had it's own personality. It was palpable, it clung to everything that passed or lay under it. The light itself washed over everything and tried to preserve it in the visual realm. The oranges and the yellows of the light were almost fish like in the way they swirled before Dominic's eyes, infinite minute fish twirling aloft in a fish bowl of halogen. Dominic observed the lamp a long while before he headed on. Judas had allowed him to go out on his own as a rite of passage of sorts.

Dominic made his way down Beale Street pausing here and there to admire some ad or even a crack in the pavement. One crack in the pavement looked like a wound in the street. The colors around it were off and Dominic stared with wonderment as black ants crawled across it there in the dark. He realized this was something he never would have taken note of while he was mortal. After a while of taking in that bustle of activity in the side-walk's fissure Dominic looked up and down the street. He saw someone amazing, a blast from his past, walking down "the Beale" toward the Hard Rock Cafe. This woman Dominic was taking in he had never seen like this before. He had obsessed about her all through high school and had tried desperately to try and conform to her ideal so he'd stand a chance. Her name was Beatrice but everyone called her Bea or Betty. Beatrice had the old world creole look about her, her features were smooth and her skin was a perfect coffee latte color the perfect mixture, Dominic to this day always tried to match his coffee to her skin color whenever he would drink coffee. He was instantly struck with a sickening lump in his stomach because that was his way of holding on, his way of remembering Beatrice and with his new vampiric condition he could no longer drink coffee. Beatrice adjusted her Minolo Blahnik sandals as she leaned against a light post; the silk stockings on her legs shone in the street lamp as if the were some bio-luminescent eels.


continuedCollapse )

Writer's Mood:
accomplished
Soundtrack::
"Summer Breeze" by Type O Negative
* * *
* * *
"Dominic Pearson"

Dominic Pearson woke up that Wednesday afternoon expecting to have a great day. He had been out all last night partying and engaged in various forms of debauchery. When he awoke there was a woman laying next to him. Dominic wasn't sure if her name was Rebecca, Lara or Christa. Dominic narowed it down to those three names because he noticed that those very names were written on his forearm with black pen. He figured one of those had to be her name so he had at least a one in three chance of getting the name right. He looked her over for a while. She was really beautiful laying there in her Danger Dame lingerie. Her dark gloomy make-up was smeared a little and she smelled like lemon, musk and green tea. Her delicate little face was resting in a small puddle of her own drool on his pillow.

He sat down next to her and took a few Klenex's out of the box next to his bed which he bought because you never know when you'll need Klenex while you are in bed. 'Girls sometimes cry when you tell them to leave, sometimes you go to bed alone and have to masturbate, if you wake up with a cold or whatever. There are so many uses for Klenex' he thought to himself as he laid his hand gingerly on her soft smooth ivory shoulder.

"Hey sweetie", he said with his slow southern drawl, "time to get up."

Her eyes opened and she sat bolt upright with a start as if she were frightened or maybe she just realized, through her hung over fog, what she had done. The ring on her finger suggested the later. He figured she looked like a Lara, 'it's worth a try' he thought. Dominic very tenderly wiped the drool from her cheek and mouth before he continued.

"Lara are you okay? Do you need a shower, a ride, some cab fare?" he asked as gently as he could
"My name is Charlotte" she said flatly, "What exactly happened last night? I am married. We didn't?" Charlotte stated obviously a little annoyed
"That's not generally the 'good morning' I get but I'll humor you. We fucked last night. In the kitchen, on my bike, in the hall, here in the bed. If you are married sweetheart you sure don't act like it. I will say it was amazing."
"I'm sorry." was all she said
"Don't be, I had a wonderful time, you are a hell cat. I hope he appreciates it, whoever he is."
"You don't understand Dominic my husband, David, is a very jealous man, he is going to kill you" and with that she got up out of the bed in a rush.
continuedCollapse )
Tags: , ,
Writer's Mood:
blah Blah
Soundtrack::
"Mud On The Tires" by Brad Paisley
* * *
Obsession

Judas stood silently for a long time trying to remember the steps that brought this situation about. She had experienced "black outs" before but typically there was no evidence of the events that happened in that lost period so she would just dismiss them. Here she stood, this time, at the banks of the Mississippi River. There was a gentle breeze blowing across her exposed arms and legs carrying the scents of honeysuckle and geranium as it passed by. She looked down at her hands covered in blood. The pattern was irregular, not that there was any typically or universal pattern for spatters of blood but these patterns seemed strange.

The bodies at her feet were torn apart like a wild animal attack, bites and defense wounds covered their arms and faces. The man looked to be in his late thirties. He had a dusty and dingy mop of unkept blonde hair. He was sort of tall and thin and his exposed chest was tattooed with some sort of jade dragon under his sternum. The woman looked to be in her mid twenties. She was also blonde but her hair was almost white. She was just a head shorter than the man and soft around the edges, very feminine.

continuedCollapse )
Writer's Mood:
thirsty Tragically Hip
Soundtrack::
"Born In a Burial Gown" by Cradle of Filth
* * *
A Ghost Of A Chance

The rain crashed against the wood shingled roof in thundering percussion as Judas' eyes opened sleepily. The off cadence rhythm of the rain drops had awakened her it was off somehow not rhythmic. Santino had been here with her a month now. That sweet month, maybe the sweetest she'd ever spent, was like heaven. Judas rolled over lazily to look deep into Santino's piercing and soulful brown eyes. She had done so every night since he came back. Today he was not there. Something was definitely wrong, she could smell it. The smell of pure leather and sadism, De Sade perfume oil from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab worn religiously by Aragon Del Fuego.

In an instant she was awake and sprung out of bed with alacrity. She reached for her Raging Bulls but found only empty holsters. There was a blast of movement and a sinking feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach as her heart was transfixed by the stake in Aragon's hand. He was too powerful, too old and too damned fast. 'Damn it to hell what's next?' Judas thought. The stake immobilized her body but her mind was keen. She thought for endless seconds on what she might do, how this was going to play out. Then another thought "where was Santino?'. Her puzzlement ended abruptly as she could see Santino's one soulful brown eye peeking from behind the couch where he lay staked as well.

continuedCollapse )
Writer's Mood:
contemplative Condom-plative
Soundtrack::
"Bullet With Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins
* * *
The Sun Always Shines On TV

It was 5:45 am when Judas finally made it back to her home in San Diego. Barely in time. The first diffused rays of sunlight just begining to peek over palm trees and oceanscape of the southern Californian coastline's horizon. She was dog tired and the sun coming wasn't helping. The heat on her skin was starting to hurt she felt the blood under her skin starting to boil.

As she put the key in the door she noticed a familiar scent on the wind. The scent of raw leather De Sade perfume oil from Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab. It must be Santino. He was here, he must be here. She opened the door and shut it behind her. If Santino was here she better be careful. Last time it ended badly. As she surveyed the place it looked like he had cleaned up all the glass and repaired the wiindow Hannah broke when she left. She made her way stealthily to the bedroom door. She could hear him singing some Spanish lullaby in the shower. As she pushed the door to her room open she saw Santino's suitcases on the floor next to the bed. He had made the bed with new linens and pillow cases. She noted the rose petals scattered across the bed, baby peach blossoms, her favorite.

continuedCollapse )
Writer's Mood:
Artsy Fartsy
Soundtrack::
"The Sun Always Shines On TV" by A Ha
* * *
Laughlin By Night

It was hot as piss in Laughlin Nevada that night. The ugly face of Don Laughlin stared at her from the sign on the side of the road. Word in Hemet California was Hannah had come through there, hung with some buddies of Judas' and then passed on through. So fate brought Judas to Laughlin Nevada, the arm pit of the universe. Jet setters and derilicts who couldn't cut it in Las Vegas ended up here. It was the blue haired old lady Mecca, the Holy Land for tired old women on a pension.

The Colorado river smelled fresh and softly aquatic and cool despite the near 130 degree heat bouncing off the pavement. Judas pulled her bike up to the vallet entrance of the Flamingo Hilton Hotel and Casino. She tossed the keys to her Harley Soft-tail at him with a flippant smile and pushed the revolving doors around. As she went through the revolving door she was tempted to keep going around around till she got dizzy. A Smile crept and tugged at the corners of her mouth for the first time in ages. No time to play games with revolving doors she was here on business.

continuedCollapse )
Tags: , ,
Writer's Mood:
Creative
Soundtrack::
"Dead Man's Party" by Oingo Boingo
* * *
* * *

Previous