Sunday, March 15, 2009

I Am the Virginal Sacrifice

It’s true; I was sacrificed as a virgin last night. But, I’ll tell you more about that in a minute. First, I’d just like to point out that I haven’t made my new posts on a regular basis, sorry. Shit happens, man. What can I say? It’s strange, though, the number of hits have remained pretty constant. Ok, ok…back to the virginal sacrifice.

There I was lying on a porcelain slab which was in the shape of a crescent moon. I was held down by some mystical force, completely prone, totally defenseless. The four of them held a huge five foot long sword and together they chanted over my body. Each of them, in turn, cut their own hand and let the blood run over me. They continued their chant in a language that seemed to be some sort of basterdized Latin. I vaguely recalled some of the large black symbols that were scrawled around me. I had seen four large symbols on the floor when they brought me in. Each of the four were standing on one of the four symbols that surrounded the alter. I knew, from previous run ins with them, that they were of the Cult of Lilith. This was not boding well for me.

As the chanting continued my anxiety rose. I knew this was going to be the end of me. I watched, helpless, as the sword was raised above my body by the tall, good-looking one who had given me this life. He smiled at me while a small bit of his blazing red hair fell free from the ponytail, as he plunged the sword into my stomach, right through my belly button and beyond me into and through the alter. There was no blood. There was a tremendous rush of pain which seared into my being. I was unable, even, to scream. The chanting grew louder, and my thoughts and feelings swirled around as if they were becoming one.

I began to feel warm, something that I hadn’t experienced for the last several months. I could feel my body pulsating as a horrifying scream penetrated my ears and ruptured any last strength I had. As I lay there slowly slipping into torpor, he leaned over my face, smiled, and kissed my forehead. He pulled the sword from my stomach, it was different somehow. It no longer resembled the cold steel metal that had been driven through me, now, it had an ichor black glow to it. Still unable to react, I saw them stand, turn and leave. The building around me was on fire, there were pieces of burning ceiling falling to the floor on the other side of the room. I laid there.

Finally, when I thought my end was coming, Harper lifted me from the alter threw me over her shoulder and ran. When we reached Lady Imogen’s house I was placed on a cold tile floor, held down by Harper, Jake, and PD. Lady Imogen slit her wrist, the blood leached down my throat and I began to move, to struggle, to come out of my torpor. I wanted more, and I tried to grab her arm to keep the coppery liquid flowing into my mouth, but I was held fast. She drew away and I was back, able to move again; but I needed to feed.

To say the least, the night was eventful. There were many, many things happening all around that night. The Prince of the city has formally declared war. Things are so bad right now, that the werewolves are helping us. Yeah, can you say “bad things are happening”? Icky ichor and Banes are showing up all over the place. There is something draining the spirit life from the Umbra, leaving the world cold and dead. I don’t know what my role in all of this is yet, but I know I’m an essential piece of the puzzle. And I wonder, as I look through the unhealing hole in my stomach, and study the bloodless white dress; why me? My sire said he chose me because I was a virgin, I’m his preferred feed, but is that why I was sacrificed? What about the others who were made with me that night? We were all deliberately chosen by our sires, what does that mean? Has the Cult of Lilith completed its task? Maybe, or maybe, their turns are yet to come.

So, I’m hoping that by now you’ve deduced that this story was my latest Vampire update. It’s was an awesome game last night and I look forward to its continued awesomness. Things are really heating up. Yeah!

BTW – Do you know how hard it is to find a decent picture of a classical virgin sacrifice?

Saturday, March 7, 2009


Once upon a forever ago there was a blog writer who tried to write her entries with some degree of regularity. Unfortunately, her life took hold and things got into the way and prevented her from writing. That in itself wasn’t too bad, but after a while she lost interest and turned her thoughts elsewhere. She found it difficult to focus her attention on a blog that she felt just wasn’t doing all that well anyway. So, in her mind she justified not writing in it for a long time.

Then one day, after checking her blog count she realized that she had a large count. In other words, people were reading it. She continued to track her blog hits and found, ironically, that she was receiving more hits since she had stopped writing than when she was pursuing it regularly. While this was perplexing to her, she found it very interesting as well and thought she would try an experiment.

She wrote a new post and put it up on her blog, and then she waited. She decided she would track the number of hits the new post received to see if the interest would continue. So, with an anxious mood, she waited, and waited. But, since it had only been a few minutes since her post, she was unable to retrieve any useful information. She called it a day and figured she would check tomorrow.

In the meantime she planned her children’s D&D game for the evening. They’ve come pretty far and have realized that the old mansion they are in is not haunted after all. It was, in fact, being used by smugglers who attempted to keep people at bay by making the place appear to be haunted. And yes, while she did have to semi lead them in that direction, given their ages of 9, 10, 11, and 13 they did a remarkable job on their own. Tonight, they have the clean up work. They need to finish going through the mansion so that they can collect all their bootie. They have killed all the smugglers but there is still a room full of skeletons for them to take care of, unbeknownst to them of course.

In the end, the writer closed her new blog entry with the promise of letting people know how the whole tracking experiment went and how the D&D turns out. And perhaps, just perhaps, the writer will once again make a serious attempt to post on a regular basis.

The End