Bill the Vampire

Bill the Vampire

William “Bill” Schmit seemingly joined the “cult of the month club” in the early seventies, but later he would tell people that the reason why he would flip flop on religion so much was because of a common occultic practice wherein a prospective member of the illuminati would join the supposed “12 occult currents of mysticism”. Twelve because, as he put it, “in the occult world, Jesus was said to have given each of his disciples a magickal path that the disciple would then be in charge of...”. The goal of the highest aspirant to occult powers was to finish initiation into all the “occult currents” before his -women were, according to Bill, only pawns in the greater battle for the souls of humanity- deal with the devil expired and he was dragged to hell, where he would spend eternity partying and fornicating with all the nubile young women he could drag to hell with him.
In 1972, after a stint in a seminary where he soon realized eternal virginity was not worth all the occult knowledge in the world, he met his wife Sherry, a card carrying feminist and eternal skeptic, who nonetheless kept Bill around because of the odd rush she got from hearing the wild ghost tales and otherwise ridiculous nonsense that flowed from his mouth as freely as shit flowed from a diarrhetic ass. She considered herself a witch, and the fact, in her mind, that she hooked a guy so gullible to her cause was verification enough of her magickal power. They spent several years bouncing around from cult groups to mystical schools, to science fiction enthusiast groups who took themselves a bit too serious, until they finally landed in Montauk, Long Island, New York.
In Long Island, they finally set up a “grotto” and welcomed 11 devoted followers into their trailer. They performed sacrifices and magick rituals including what they called “mushroom orgies” which amounted to nothing more than wild sex parties in the middle of the woods, pale fat pimply asses and fupas flapping freely in the open air as the psilocybin took their minds and elevated them to angelic highs and demonic lows. This happened all through the late seventies and into the mid eighties, until the younger members of the grotto grew tired with the weird sexual games for the sake of seemingly ineffective magick, and began to leave and stay longer and longer out west in the Wicker Witch music festival, which had begun to become popular in the early eighties due to hosting the world’s largest outdoor modern art exhibition.
Sherry by now had lost her taste for the tedium of running a grotto, and had begun to relax and sink into the world of daytime soap operas, which, according to her, were better than nighttime soaps, which made you wait a week in order to get new episodes. Bill, on the other hand, was getting deeper and deeper, and would drag Sherry with him to seemingly endless meetings with magi-nerds who would sit in circles and pretend to summon demons with pseudo-latin names.
The days and weeks passed and nothing but the same boring summoning and pseudo-latin, until it occurred to Sherry that playing pranks on her husband might be a better way to fill the time than watching tired old daytime TV. At first it was small things, like recording spooky voices over Bill’s audiotape lectures of Antonin Devolos, the leader of the famous “Circle of Lucifer”, but soon it evolved to faking encounters with ghost, poltergeist manifestations, alien abductions, anything wacky and out of the ordinary. It spiced up life, and Bill seemed to enjoy it. And then, the one prank that would change their lives forever came to her in the middle of a cold Long Island winter night.
She frantically walked in circles around her room and her husband slept in their warm bed. “What if I make him believe he has sold his soul. What if I make him believe he has become a werewolf, or a vampire even. How could I pull this off? The deception would be too funny. Knowing his dumb ass, I could keep it up for some time, too. Who knows, maybe it could even rid me of this fucking ennui I have...”
She thought about it for two week, setting up every part of the plan meticulously. They had again gathered a small grotto around them, and had a few followers; maybe she could convince one of the younger members to go along with the deception, for “the sake of advancing the group’s cause”. She was good at plucking heartstrings. Three more weeks of planning, and she convinced Jacky Jethro, a newer member of the group, to dress up as a “fallen angel”. Sherry would slip some LSD in a glass of sacramental wine, and give it to Bill. He would then drink it, and two hours later, as the trip was starting to take hold, Jacky would walk in from behind the veil hiding the holy of holies.
A month had passed since the planning of the prank. The moon was going to be full that night. It was time. “I feel the vibrations of the earth getting stronger today...” said Sherry. “That is a good omen. Something truly groundbreaking will occur in our thaumaturgical session tonight. I can smell it in the breeze, see it in the augur of the birds as they flew by this morning. Be prepared, William. You will either lose your mind to the ritual, or you will gain great power...”
Nightfall, and all things were set in place. Jacky had packed her things this morning, ostensibly for a visit she had been planning for some months now and kissed Bill goodbye. She got into a cab and left.
The cab dropped her half a mile down the road, and she got into her outfit and makeup. She wore a black cloak, but underneath, she was painted in an almost pale blue or white color. Her eyes had black liner, and her lips were a slightly bluer tint than her skin. Her hair, usually a jet black, was put under a tight stocking, and was replaced by a blonde wig. She had silver glitter spread all over her body lightly, but enough that she glowed in the brightness of the moon.
Meanwhile, at the trailer, ehr, compound, the remaining members of the grotto gathered, Bill in the middle of a semi circle. Sacramental wine was handed out, and the ritual commenced.
“Hallowed moon, I summon thee. Let thy magnificent aegis protect us against those that might harm us. Give us the strength and the shield to protect us in your hallowed night. Let it be so.”
“I summon the powers of Lucifer, and Belial, and Metatron-”
They continued for about an hour. Jacky was in position. She was waiting for the sign to proceed with her act. The sign agreed upon by her and Sherry. A few more minutes passed and finally she heard it - “Astarte, come forth!”

“And that was they day I became a vampire. I had to have SEX, with a fallen angel. Yes, its body was supple and feline. Her hips swayed from side to side, and then up and down as she mounted me! I mean, this stuff was hardcore Satan worship! After that, I transformed. I could only live off cocaine, menstrual fluid, and host I would steal from the local catholic church. My saliva emitted a numbing agent that women in my coven craved cause it would throw them in a frenzy. I could not go out in the day or when the moon was too bright. I’ll tell you though, it was not all that it was cracked up to be. I still had to go work. At that time I delivered pizza on third shift. It sucked, because I would see all these emaciated hookers walking up and down, and I would have to fight every impulse in my body not to strike down a hooker and suck her dry. I knew that if I did, it would definitely ruin my marriage and cause other problems. I mean, how do you explain that you are a vampire to a doctor without him calling the government and sending you to be vivisected for “science”?”
“This lasted for I’d say, maybe 30 days. I could not eat anything. I was just really messed up! My wife tried her hardest to reverse the spell, but finally what saved me were these two Mormon missionaries from the Deuteronomic Talmudic Mormons, DTM for short. Not DMT, but DTM. Although those guys talk as though they were taking hits of DMT every lunchhour. It was pretty intense. Anyway, I had been told by one of my occult mentors that if I ever ran into any trouble, I should join a Mormon church, because Joseph Smith, Jr had created his religion as a hiding place for witches.”
“I spoke to the head preacher within a week, my mind almost delirious, I’m telling you, period blood and sacramental host wafers have no nutritional value! He said I could fast track to go into their temple and perform a marriage ceremony with my wife that would cleanse any evil from my body. So within a week of receiving those young men into my house, I was cleansed at a Mormon temple. But don’t get me confused brothers and sisters; the Mormon church is just as occult as the occultism I had been practicing, but with a nice Christian veneer.”
“And that, brothers and sisters, is the conclusion of part one. Tune in next week to find out how Bill got saved, and how he was translated from the kingdom of the prince of the power of the air, to the kingdom of God Jehovah, in the next instalment of, THE PROPHETIC HOUR!”