Category: vampirate

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‘While one watches over the dead, one can hear the strigae: they sing airs that carry one away and which, despite oneself, one obeys.’ –MARCEL SCHWOB (The Strigae)

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Our interview with horror master ALEX GRASS!!!

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Dim, dubious, bat-like creatures seemed to be flitting to and fro between one of the stone vats and the group that toiled like sculptors, clothing the bony foot with a reddish plasm which they applied and moulded like so much clay. Gaspard thought, but was not certain later, that this plasm, which gleamed as if with mingled blood and fire, was being brought from the rosy-litten vat in vessels borne by the claws of the shadowy flying creatures. None of them, however, approached the other vat, whose wannish light was momently enfeebled, as if it were dying down. –Clark Ashton Smith (The Colossus of Ylourgne)

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A Greek god horror story to kill all HOPE. Really dark stuff.

‘The old man continued on his way to the sea, coming after a time upon two men who were digging a grave for a third who lay dead.

“It is a holy office to bury the dead,” he remarked.

“Aye,” said one of the men, “especially if you have slain him yourself and are hiding the evidence.”
–ROGER ZELAZNY (But Not The Herald)

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JACKALS forgotten to the sands of time!!

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‘No. The face of a dark, remarkable-looking man, in black, with black hair and a grey moustache – a handsome man except for a reserved and secret air. Not a face she ever saw, or at all like a face she ever saw. Doing nothing in the dream but looking at her fixedly, out of darkness.’–CHARLES DICKENS (To Be Read At Dusk)

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KING OF THE GARGOYLE album is roaring away!!!

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To feel alive with your terrified pulse pounding, to feel the warm embrace of love, to have your teeth chatter with fear, the stomach quivering nausea of dread, or the blinding throes of rage, is what I offer with this collection. These horror poems I share with you have blazed the flames brightly to inspire me to create the most ghastly of horror tales and the most powerful of rock songs to date. You’re going to know my soul crushing angst in ‘Blood in the Pouring Rain’ as I saved my father’s life. You’ll look over your shoulder a glance or two maybe with a tear hearing the haunting ‘Sarah the Eternal’. And maybe you will laugh and howl along with ‘Ghost on Christmas Mountain’ to lift your spirits.

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‘Devil’s down in Judas Mill
Wanting my heart wanting my soul still
Till the last star’s decline
This vixen will take more than my wine!’
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (One Scotch, One Bourbon, & One Beer)

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The corpse had lost much of its starved appearance and looked hideously fresh and alive. –F. G. Loring (The Tomb of Sarah)

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HALLOWEEN ALL THE TIME roaring away!!!!

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I’ve broken the laws of man and God,

I’ve flung my gauntlet forth to the world.

I’ve turned from the ways that in youth I trod–

Yonder the Skull Flag flies unfurled.

–Robert E. Howard (A Buccaneer Speaks)

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I cast a glance and resigned to dive in anyway. I thought,

‘It’s better to face those teeth or any of the creatures slithering out there in the smoke and abysmal waters of the bayou, than to be burned alive.’
–Jeffrey LeBlanc (For the Love of a Phantom)

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“I am a vampire,”said the stranger.
Madness. I turned to flee, but the voice pursued me.
“Yes, I am a vampire,” he said. “And…so are you!”
–Robert Bloch (The Bat Is My Brother)

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What the devil was wrong with him, anyway? Henderson smiled apologetically at the empty darkness. This was the smell of the costumer’s shop, and it carried him back to college days of amateur theatricals. Henderson hiad known this smell of moth balls, decayed furs, grease paint aind oils. He had played amateur Hamlet and in his hands he had held a smirking skull that hid all knowledge in its empty eyes—a skull, from the costumer’s. –Robert Bloch (The Cloak)