Lucid Dreams and Saturn Skies The Life and Writing of Andrew Kincaid

Tag Archives: Vampires

My Latest Netflix Addiction–Supernatural

Supernatural is a paranormal tv show about two hunters who face the forces of evil.

The title card for season seven of Supernatural

You know, it’s kind of funny.  Now that I don’t have cable, I find myself watching more television than when I did.  More to the point, I watch more long running series.  That was something I never did too much when we had cable–I’d start a show and wind up fizzling out a few seasons into its run.  It would start with a few missed episodes here and there, until I wound up completely forgetting about the show until I saw a commercial for it.  So it was with the series Supernatural and just about every other television series on cable in the last ten years or so.  Netflix changed all that, mainly because it allows me to watch what I want, when I want (provided it’s on instant, that is).

Supernatural follows the brothers Sam and Dean Winchester as they go about the family business–hunting things that go bump in the night.  The series begins with a monster-a-week format under the arc of a main storyline that is slowly revealed over time.  Most of the first season focuses on the hunt for the yellow-eyed demon that killed the brother’s mother and burnt down their home.

While the subject matter of Supernatural is often dark and disturbing, they manage to keep a sense of humor.  The show manages to balance serious episodes with funny ones pretty well while never dropping the ball in terms of the plot.  Every episode is sprinkled with pop-culture references to classic rock bands, horror movies, and TV shows.

Despite the scale of events that occur as the series progresses, Supernatural retains a playful, self deprecating sense of humor.  Seriously, there are a lot of laugh out loud moments in this show.  It’s a great show, but not without some problems.  Sometimes the humor seems ill placed given the gravity of events.  It can get a bit repetitive as well, especially when they break away from the monster-a-week format and start focusing more on the main story-line.  The dynamic between Sam and Dean, while interesting, can get a bit grating.  Dean basically treats Sam like crap through half of the series, mostly because he’s older.  While Dean basically makes the series, his tough guy demeanor sort of started to get on my nerves on and off throughout.  Sam has a problem as well, mainly because he’s as overly sensitive as Dean is stereotypically macho.

I should clarify that I’ve only watched up to the first part of season five so far.  From what I understand, the main story arc of the series concludes at the end of season five.  A friend of mine said the quality of the show goes downhill starting with season six, so much so that one of the original creators is no longer a part of production.  Netflix only has up until season six, so pretty soon I suppose I will see for myself.  Still, if you like vampires, werewolves, demons, and other bogies, give Supernatural a look.  Despite its flaws, it’s a great show and well worth watching.

The Allure of B-Movies

Poster art from the 1954 B-movie classic, THEM!

I also like the posters from the old days. They’re fun!

Ah…B-movies.  I enjoy cheesy old sci-fi/horror movies from the fifties and sixties, especially the black and white ones.  Those are my favorite types of B-movies, and I think the most iconic of the bunch although the genre is alive and well in the 21st century.  If you want proof, just flip to SyFy on Saturday nights at nine and you’ll see what I mean.

Even so, the B-movies from fifty or sixty years ago are in a league of their own.  They have an innocent charm that modern B-movies often lack.  There was no CGI back in those days, and often these movies were made on a shoestring budget, but the cheesy special effects were part of the fun.  Often B-movies followed a set formula.  Typically they involved an incident of science gone wrong–most often the culprit was radiation of some sort, but it could also be the work of a mad scientist–that resulted in some freakish monster (usually a guy in a rubber suit).  The protagonists turn to conservative forces such as the military and police, or toward science to find the solution to the problem.  I use the word “science” loosely here, because by today’s standards the science they played with was laughable.  Another subset of the genre involved an alien invasion, which would once again be thwarted by conservative forces or by science.

Writers and directors back in the day took the formula I just described above and had all sorts of fun with it.  THEM! is a perfect example of the genre; in fact, it’s often cited as the textbook example of the B-movie genre.  The movie is about ants that become enormous as a result of radioactive fallout from nuclear testing out in Nevada.  These giant ants spread all over the world and establish colonies, and (naturally) it’s up to the U.S. Army and some scientists to clear the matter up.  It sounds silly, but seriously give THEM! a watch sometime when you can–it’s actually a pretty good movie.

Night of the Living Dead is also a B-movie modeled on a formula similar to the one I outlined above, but it’s noticeably darker and really helped to give birth to the modern horror movie (for better or worse).  NOTLD featured ghouls–the word zombie was never used in the movie itself–who were raised from the dead ostensibly by strange radiation from a Venus probe.  These ghouls were shown on film eating people.  And it’s hard to spoil a fifty year old movie, but suffice it to say the ending was NOT in line with the typical B-movie up to that point.  George Romero turned the B-movie formula on its head while simultaneously remaining faithful to the tradition–no small feat, that.  Night of the Living Dead is another example of a B-movie that, when you get beyond the cheap special effects and bad acting, was in the end a pretty good movie (one of my all time favorites, actually).

And that right there is why I like B-movies.  When you get beyond the goofy premises and hokey special effects and look deeply at the movie, they often tell pretty good stories.  They couldn’t rely on special effects like today’s movies–don’t get me wrong though, modern B-movies are great fun but they often rely too heavily on gore and SFX for my taste–so instead they had to attempt to tell a decent story.  That, and the actors actually had to act, while no doubt biting back laughter at the goofy looking dude in the rubber suit.  Granted, many B-movies were lousy in the story and acting departments both, but they at least made up for it with unintentional hilarity (Plan 9 From Outer Space comes to mind).

Zombies from George Romero's B-movie classic, Night of the Living Dead

Zombies. This picture has gotten a lot of mileage on this blog, I’ve noticed =P.

Those aren’t the only reasons I like B-movies.  Sometimes I get tired of the cynicism of our age, an attitude that leaks into our cinematic culture, as it must.  In terms of horror, that translates into nihilistic plots, gore, and copious amounts of sex.  There’s nothing wrong with any of that, but sometimes I get sick of it.  I want to interrupt myself at this point to say that I was brought up in a socially conservative household and live in a conservative area and while I do not subscribe to all of those beliefs now, their influence is still there.  So for me, it is a breath of fresh air to watch an old time movie where the most gore you might see is a bit of chocolate sauce smeared on someone’s shirt, that ends on a note of optimism rather than cynicism (NOTLD is an exception to all of this, of course).

The saying goes that “they don’t make’em like they used to”.  True to some extent.  While horror and movies in general have become objectively better in many ways than their predecessors from the old days, nothing can replace the fun and charm of the old time B-movies.

What are your cinematic guilty pleasures?  Do you like the B monster movies from the fifties and sixties, or do they bore you to tears?


You’re Looking at a Freshly Minted Graduate! (Sort of)

I recently graduated!  Still waiting for my degree to come in through.

I have neither of these things…hence the crappy Word Art image, haha

Well, I am all graduated.  I think.  My degree hasn’t come in yet, but so far as I know everything is in order and my undergraduate career is over.  Now the job hunt begins!  I’ve already sent out my resume to one potential employer; the position was for general office work, not exactly teaching but it would do in the short run.  I’m also beginning the process of being certified to teach.  Alternative certification in Ohio requires a bachelor’s degree in a given subject, pedagogical training (either 6 credit hours from an accredited institution or an online institute that requires field training; I’ll be doing the former), and successful passage of the Praxis II content exam.

That being said, I’m not entirely sure I want to teach anymore.  I have all this training in biology, and certainly if I didn’t teach it would basically go to waste.  Lab work isn’t exactly something I could do very well as I have tremors in my hands and involuntary muscle contractions (don’t worry, I’m getting them checked out; I doubt it’s much of anything but better safe than sorry), which made lab work during school…interesting.   My lab partners wouldn’t let me touch the experiments for fear that I would screw them up, haha.  I mostly took a managerial role, as it were, making certain the experiments were done properly, etc.

That particular decision might have been made for me, since a quick survey shows no teaching jobs available locally.  At least, no teaching jobs I could do–the listings I’ve seen were for special education interventionists and college professors.  It’s a shame I don’t have a Ph.D–I could have a job in Zane State in no time!

Really, it doesn’t matter what I do in terms of day job, for two reasons.  One: my vocation is not the job I find myself in.  Rather, my vocation is what I bring to the job; it’s a matter of mind set.  The second and more important reason is that I’ve found what I want to do.  I want to write for a living.  Right now, that isn’t feasible.  I only have two books available, and the income from them is nowhere near enough to sustain myself on.  This is a volume game though: both volume of sales and volume of output.  That is to say, you can’t expect to make a living off one book, or even two.  You have to build up a list of books for folks to pick from, and hopefully if they like your content they’ll become repeat customers.  The key is to write and write well–you don’t want to just shove out a bunch of crap, after all.

Speaking of, a bit of shameless self promotion.  I recently released my book, On Dark Paths, on Nook and Smashwords.  It was originally available on Kindle, but I decided to put it on other platforms when folks who didn’t own Kindles told me they wanted to read my book.  I’m in the process of proofing Strange World before I put it on those platforms as well.  I have a lot of new stuff in the works, including a fantasy novel that is nearly completed, and several horror novels and novellas.  Stay tuned!

What projects do you have in the works?  Have you found your “dream job”?


Chinese Zombies – The Jiang Shi

An image showing the Jiang Shi, with binding spells on their foreheads. Jiang Shi is Chinese for "Stiff corpse".  They have vampiric qualities, but are considered to be the Chinese folkloric equivalent of a zombie.

Jiang Shi, with binding spells stuck to their foreheads.

I’ve written a great deal about zombies on this blog.  In the West, we have a pretty fixed view of what a zombie looks and acts like – they’re corpses that have gotten up and walked again, and they hunger for the flesh of the living.  Fast or slow, either way anyone with a pulse is lunch.

With this view being so ubiquitous on this side of the pond, it is easy to forget that zombies as we know them are largely a modern cinematic invention - the folkloric zombies they were based on were quite different from what zombies have become.  While the walking dead are common to just about every culture on Earth, they take many different forms, many of them much more bizarre than the plague zombie to which we in the West have grown accustomed.

A perfect example of this is the Jiang Shi.  These undead have haunted the collective unconscious of the Chinese people for thousands of years.  The word “Jiang Shi” means “stiff corpse”.  Their appearance can vary depending on how long they’ve been in the grave – fresh Jiang Shi could look like an average person, while Jiang Shi who have taken longer to resurrect have a hideous appearance.  These latter type stiff corpses are reported to be covered in green moss and antiquated clothing.  They have long white hair, long black fingernails, and a lolling black tongue.

The most distinctive feature of the Jiang Shi though is its odd gait.  Rather than stumbling about like Western zombies, the Jiang Shi hops with its arms held out straight in front of it.  This is due to the fact that the creature is in a constant state of rigor mortis, and is thus too stiff to do anything but hop.

That…doesn’t sound terribly threatening.  But then I guess at first glance the shuffling, clumsy zombies of Romero lore don’t either, and they seem to do pretty well for themselves.

But I digress.  If the locomotion of the Jiang Shi seems less than sinister, its diet certainly makes up for the lack.  Jiang Shi feed on the qi energy of living beings – which is to say, they suck out people’s life force.  If that sounds suspiciously like that other infamous undead thing, the vampire, you’re right.  The Jiang Shi are sorta like vamps, but they lack any kind of knowledge or willpower of their own – they are only driven by the desire to feed, which puts them firmly into zombie territory.  Some modern interpretations of the Jiang Shi in Chinese cinema have them feasting on the blood of the living rather than their qi…so take that for whatever it is worth.  In my mind, these hopping freaks are still zombies.

So with the Jiang Shi’s zombiehood thus established, what should we do if we run into one on some back country road in China?  Those of us who are trained in the art of (Western) zombie killing would simply whip out a shotgun (although I’m not sure the Chinese government would be very happy with a bunch of gun-toting American tourists wandering around their countryside) and blast the thing’s head off before calling it a day.

A movie depiction of a Jiang Shi

…I don’t know why, but this picture makes me laugh.

Not so fast, my trigger happy friends!  That may work for a zombie born of biological infection, but the Jiang Shi are different beasts.  They arise in a variety of ways.  Typically, a Jiang Shi is born when, for whatever reason, a spirit cannot leave its body.  This may be because of an “improper death” (not sure what that means, precisely), suicide, or a simple desire to cause trouble.  Also, a Jiang Shi can result from a corpse being inhabited by an evil spirit, or when a body is buried in a place too rich in the wrong sort of qi energy.  It may take a long time for the process to occur,  hence the Jiang Shi’s infamous moss coverage and outdated fashion sense.

So, the Jiang Shi are supernatural critters rather than merely the product of evolution gone wrong.  I’m thinking that pretty well nullifies the shotgun as an effective weapon for mowing these buggers down – unless you carry silver buckshot or blessed slugs or some other such horror movie contrivance.

Mostly, the goal outlined by folklore seems to be to avoid the things with your qi intact.  There are a variety of ways to achieve this.  One is simply to hold your breath – Jiang Shi can’t see, so if they can’t hear you they’ll hop on by.  Some say that sucking out the Jiang Shi’s dying breath will kill it.  Not sure about you, but that sounds a bit too close for comfort – I have a strict rule of staying at least fifty yards from any walking corpses in my vicinity.  You know, to avoid blood spatter.

Another way to avoid the Jiang Shi is to throw small objects in its path.  The creature will be compelled to count them (although how exactly a stiff, dumb corpse can count objects tossed onto the ground is anyone’s guess).  A good whack with peach wood will supposedly end a Jiang Shi’s unlife.  Various other common household items like awls, brooms, and axes can also ward away Jiang Shi.

The Jiang Shi are not the only undead critter that haunted the nightmares of our ancestors, but they are certainly among the oddest.  It just goes to show that when it came to making up things that went bump in the night, our ancestors were no slouches.


999

999 is a collection of short stories edited by Al Sarrantino.  Stephen King, William Peter Blatty, and Neil Gaimen among others contributed stories for the anthology.

A collection of 29 stories by some of the best in the business.

As most of you probably know by now, I’m a fan of horror.  I have found in my explorations of the genre that something about horror lends itself to the short story format.  It’s a bit like the story of Goldilocks – not too hot, not too cold, but juuust right.  Or in this case, not too short, not too long, but juuust the right length to keep up the intensity and suspense.  Sometimes a horror novel can be too long – one complaint often lodged against Stephen King is that his stories end long before the book does.  Sometimes a good story can end way too soon, leaving the reader unsatisfied.  But every now and then you find a story that hits it just right, be it a novel, novella, or novelette.

999, edited by Al Sarrantinio, has a mix of stories that more often than not hits it just right.  Several authors including heavy hitters like Stephen King, Neil Gaiman, and William Peter Blatty (the author of The Exorcist) are represented in the anthology.   The stories within vary widely in content – from ghost stories to zombies to monsters to tales of love gone wrong.

Like any short story anthology, the book was a bit hit or miss here and there.  More often than not I enjoyed the stories, but now and then one fell flat.  Especially one called Des Saucisses, Sans Doute – it was supposed to be “funny” but I thought it was just disgusting.  And the Neil Gaiman story called Keepsakes and Treasures: A Love Story was…interesting…but certainly not my favorite in the book.   And I was surprised to find that William Peter Blatty’s Elsewhere has so far disappointed – I haven’t yet finished it.  Something about his writing style – possibly the gratuitous use of adverbs or the fact that few if any of the character’s are likable – has put me off of his haunted house story.  Still, there is enough intrigue there that I keep plugging away at it, bit by bit.  I’m getting the feeling that something awful is going to happen that will justify my continued faith in the story – that or it will all collapse into a miserable mess and turn out to be the worst of the bunch. Either or.

Now that I’ve all but turned you off of the book for the badness within, let me point out some high points.  Stephen King’s story was good – as his novellas usually are.  It was called The Road Virus Heads North and it involved a very peculiar painting.  The Catfish Gal Blues by Nancy A. Collins was a fun story of magic, greed, and jealousy set along the Mississippi River.  The Grave by P.D Cacek was a delightfully creepy look into the mind of a dowdy Kindergarten librarian who lives with her mother – I highly recommend this story if you like things that screw with your head.  Another favorite of mine was Mad Dog Summer, where an old man recollects a summer of horror from his childhood.  I seriously couldn’t put it down–Joe R. Landsdale did a wonderful job with this novella and I’d highly recommend horror fans take a look at this one.

999 is an older collection – published back in 1999 – but the stories still hold the same power they had thirteen years ago.  Horror fans would do well to have this book in there collection.  There are some low points, but the high points more than make up for the lack.  I only listed my favorites here – there are other wonderful pieces in this anthology that I don’t have the time nor space to talk about.  Give it a look–you won’t regret it.  Well, until the nightmares begin anyway…


“Nightmares & Dreamscapes” by Stephen King

This isn’t the first time I’ve read Nightmares & Dreamscapes, but it is the first time I’ve read it in its entirety. When I first cracked it open a few years ago, I wasn’t a big fan of the short story format.  It took starting my own short stories and discovering HP Lovecraft and his wonderfully weird world to really pique my interest in this type of literature, and since then I’ve really taken a liking to it.

This renewed interest lead me to take another crack at Nightmares & Dreamscapes.  King is pretty famous for his work in the “long-story” format.  “Long-story” meaning a novella, a story that’s too short in word count to be a novel but too long to be a short story.  His novels can run a little overly long, but his shorter stuff is often right on the mark. Not always, but often.

That was the way with this collection as well.  I found the earlier stories in the work to be the best.  I enjoyed “Dolan’s Cadillac”, a revenge story featuring a teacher, a gangster, and a really big hole in the ground.  “Suffer the Little Children” was the third story in the collection, a nice Twilight Zone – esque story with Stephen King’s uniquely gory touch. It involves a teacher who starts to lose control of her class bit by bit, when the children begin to act very oddly.  The climax of the story will stick with you for a very long time, let me tell you.  “The Night Flier” is darkly humorous in its own way, featuring a vampire with a single engine plane.  Stephen King answers some questions about vampiric bodily functions in his own unique way…I won’t reveal how but it’s pretty entertaining.

I felt the quality of the stories started to go downhill after “Chattery Teeth”, a story where some novelty store teeth quite literally take on a life of their own.  “Dedication” was…weird. And kind of slow.  The next few were kind of hit or miss, although I did enjoy “Home Delivery” because it was an interesting take on the zombie sub-genre, and worth a look to any zombie lovers out there.  The next story was a “weird small town” archetypal story that kind of felt like another episode of the Twilight Zone.  It was followed by “My Pretty Pony” which wasn’t so much a story as a scene.  It didn’t really go anywhere, and I was pretty disappointed by it.

Later in the book there were a couple of others like “My Pretty Pony”, ones that didn’t quite fit King’s typical works.  At least they were actual stories.  One was a kind of gangster thriller that was mildly entertaining.  A couple were detective stories, one a Sherlock Holmes case where Watson takes the lead and another involving a hard-boiled private eye who quite literally meets his maker.  They were okay – well written but not really my cup of tea.

The last two entries in the collection were non-fiction works about baseball or some such.  I honestly didn’t read either because baseball bores me to tears.  Once I had to do a book report on a prominent historical figure in Ohio.  I picked Cy Young, because I didn’t know anything about him and I live in his alleged hometown (just so you know, he wasn’t born here).  The biography I picked to read was only 110 pages long, and it literally took me three weeks to read it because it was so BORING.

Oh and I got so wrapped up in the horrible memories of that book that I almost forgot something about the one I’m reviewing–there was a screen play in there that I didn’t read…the format was just way too unfamiliar and I couldn’t get into it.

So, what was my overall impression you ask, Constant Reader (to steal a phrase from King)? Overall I enjoyed it.  But as is typical of King, it was hit or miss.  There were some really good stories in there, and some stories that were well written but still just fell flat.  At times it felt a bit self indulgent,especially the baseball junk and the screenplay.  I would say that if you like King’s works, you’ll like this book.  If you haven’t read much King, but you like horror and especially short stories, give it a look.  You might be surprised.  And you’ll learn an interesting bit about vampire physiology to boot!


Elizabeth Bathory–Queen of Serial Killers

A portrait of Elizabeth Bathory

Beautiful. Royal. Deadly.

Serial killers are the monsters of the modern world. They haunt the cities and countryside of America, preying upon the most vulnerable among us to fulfill their sick and twisted needs. Most often, serial killers are men who kill to derive pleasure of some sort be it sexual, psychological, or both. They are men with names like John Wayne Gacy (“The Clown Killer”), Albert Fish (“The Werewolf of Wysteria”), Dennis Rader (“The BTK Killer), and Gary Ridgeway (“The Green River Killer”).

Many believe the man who began this trend, the first serial killer in history, was Jack the Ripper, that mysterious madman who terrorized Whitechapel in 1888.  However, as often turns out to be the case, popular opinion is wrong on this count.  The first recorded serial killer in history (although I’m certain there have been serial killers as long as there have been people) lived about three hundred years before Jack the Ripper stalked his first victim that chilly London night.  Her name was Elizabeth Bathory, and she stands as the queen of serial killers with a body count that is said to dwarf that of even the most vicious modern madman.

Elizabeth was born August of 1560 to a powerful branch of the royal family in Hungary. She was brought up in the rarefied atmosphere of 16th century elites – her every whim was satisfied, and people from all walks of life (some forced) fawned over the beautiful aristocrat.  And she was a beauty by the standards of the day, with her porcelain white skin and hair the color of raven’s feathers. In addition to beauty, she had brains too – she could speak four languages, ran her husband’s estate while he was off fighting the Ottoman Empire (a pretty much constant gig), and even defended said estates when the Ottomans invaded Hungary and struck out toward Vienna.

Beauty and brains could not compensate for the ugliness that lay deep inside her, though.  Elizabeth was a narcissist who changed her clothes six times a day and was known to spend hours admiring her own beauty in the mirror.  She was impulsive and had a violent temper, and was known to lash out at her servants in a fit of rage, beating them senseless for the most minor of offenses.  She was not the good, faithful wife her husband (who was a brutal, unsavory fellow himself) would have liked and expected her to be – she was rumored to participate in sadomasochistic orgies, often forcing her victims to participate on the threat of severe beatings and other torture.  Beside that, she took many lovers both male and female.

Oh and did I mention that black magic? She participated in satanic rituals and other dark rites, which often involved the torture or death of her hapless servant girls.

Like any serial killer, Elizabeth Bathory had a modus operandi, or a distinct way of going about her crimes.  Often in this sort of case the MO involves some kind of ritual, and victims with similar attributes are targeted each time.  Most of the time the victims are vulnerable people who won’t be missed by the larger society – the homeless, runaways, and people in poverty stricken areas.

Bathory acted in a similar manner, but with one fundamental difference – in her world, she ruled.  Her primary home was Cseltje Castle, which lay in the Little Carpathians.  It was a fairly isolated area, and she had complete control over the lives of the peasants living in the seventeen villages on her estates. There literally was no risk of punishment – in that time, the nobles could basically do as they pleased and mistreatment of their social inferiors was commonplace and even accepted. However, the horrors to come would be appalling even for their day.

Cachtice Castle was one of the castles owned by Elizabeth Bathory

Cachtice Castle, one of the castles Elizabeth Bathory owned during her lifetime. She spent her last days here, walled away in her room.

The killer aristocrat targeted lovely peasant girls and women, who she lured to the castle with promises of jobs and decent pay.  Sometimes though she eschewed this formality and simply had the girls abducted and brought back to her chambers of death.  When they were brought back to the castle, Bathory and four of her collaborators subjected the girls to terrible torture.  She would beat them senseless then cut them with razors.  She also enjoyed sticking them with pins and scissors, and burning with candles and hot pokers were two other favorites.

In addition to the torture and humiliation, she sexually assaulted her victims, often by forcing them to take part in the aforementioned orgies, and at least once by performing genital mutilation with a hot poker.

Many of her victims were found covered in bite marks, some having even been bitten to death.  This, coupled with the tremendous vanity that marked her personality, leads many to believe that Bathory was a vampiress.  The story goes that once a servant girl was braiding Bathory’s hair when she pulled too hard.  The enraged aristocrat walloped her unfortunate servant upside the head, so hard the girl’s nose gushed blood that spattered spots on Bathory’s face.  One of her later collaborators noted that the skin where the blood had been seemed whiter and more fair than the surrounding skin.  From this incident, so it goes, Bathory became convinced that bathing in the blood of slaughtered servant girls would keep her young forever.

It’s also widely believed that hearing this story, along with the story of that other alleged blood sucker, Vlad Dracula, inspired Bram Stoker to write his iconic vampire story.  These stories, both of them, are nothing more than stories.  There is no evidence from the earliest sources documenting the Bathory case that she bathed in or drank the blood of her victims, or that she believed doing so would make her younger.  These stories are embellishments added by later authors.

Christopher Lee in one of his most famous roles.  He played Dracula in the Hammer Film Productions versions of the story.

This guy. Probably not inspired by Bathory…although it’s possible.

COULD she have done either one?  It’s possible.  She was involved in black magic rituals, so it could be possible she used the blood for ritual purposes.  It seems more likely that she had a fetish for violence and blood, and the sadistic cruelty she subjected her poor victims to fulfilled that need, rather than any need for eternal youth.  And as for Bram Stoker being inspired by her story, it’s likely he was aware of it but just because he was doesn’t mean it was the one causative idea that lead to “Dracula”.   He was well versed in the folklore of East Europe, and it seems most of the attributes of Dracula were taken from the nosferatu legends endemic to that area.   And on a side note, Dracula was only loosely based on Vlad Dracula…basically, Stoker liked the name Dracula and lifted it for his own use.

Now that I’ve cleared up some misconceptions regarding this case (I’m something of an amateur mythbuster),  let’s get back to the Blood Countess before she decides to off us shall we?  After all, she loved her some attention, and my little segue lead us away from her for a bit, something I’m sure her massive Ego couldn’t stand.  Speaking of her massive Ego, it led her to reach too far.  She committed a crime the consequences of which even her position among Hungarian royalty couldn’t protect her from.

See, killing commoners got to be a bit boring, so Bathory decided it would be entertaining to go after a bit…tougher…prey.  She decided she would open a school for the children of nobility, where they could come to her castle and learn etiquette. Once the first of her students arrived, Bathory almost immediately began to abuse them.  However, when a daughter of a lesser noble died, the jig was up.  There was a half baked attempt at a coverup, but soon the evidence mounted against the Blood Countess and her collaborators and they were outed for what they were – cold blooded killers.

The crime was horrendous, even by the standards of the day (remember, this a time when a plague could come through and wipe out half a city in a matter of weeks, when torture was an accepted part of the legal system and when nobles still had the power of life and death over their serfs).  Two of Bathory’s collaborators were brutally executed, tortured then burned alive, while another was beheaded and the fourth jailed for fifteen years.  The Blood Countess herself, being royalty,w as immune from execution.  Instead, she was walled into her apartments in her own castle, where she lived out the last four years of her life.  The legend goes that she couldn’t live without the blood of servant girls to sustain her youth.

I’m skeptical of this notion, as the whole bit about her being a vampire was tacked on later.  Then again, in her own way she WAS a vampire – her Ego fed off of the praise and the suffering of others.  Maybe being walled away, cut off from all the praise and power she’d grown accustomed to, unable to indulge her sick fantasies, was too much for her.  Maybe she just gave up living.  No matter how it happened, we do know she died in 1614.

At the end of the day, Bathory stands alone amongst the ranks of the most depraved people in history.  Her body count is the highest of all the known serial killers.  The tallies vary wildly, and there is a lot of debate over what the right number is, but she and her collaborators were indicted on 80 counts of murder.  The records from the time though put the count at upwards of 650, a number so huge as to be mind boggling. Some reject the number as too large, accepting the smaller (but still mind bogglingly huge) count of 300 victims.  One source at the time counted “only” 37, but with the caveat that those where only the ones he was aware of.

I personally think the highest count is the most accurate.  You have to take into account the facts that A) she lived in a world where she could kill with impunity, which would make her more likely to be prolific and B) she killed for the better part of 30 years. It was entirely plausible that she could have reached such an astronomical number, given those circumstances.

Elizabeth Bathory stands alone among the evil.  The sheer scale and brutality of her crimes are stunning, and stand as a dark testament to what can happen when broken people are given absolute power over others.  It also goes to show that the serial killer club isn’t just a boys club.  The impulse to violence and mayhem isn’t exclusive to the male sex (although admittedly men are more likely to use violence to achieve their goals).  Women can be killers too.  And sometimes, they’re better at it.


Albert Fish – The Werewolf of Wysteria

Albert Fish, a child molester and cannibal who killed at least seven children in and around New York.  He probably killed more but no one can be certain.

The Boogeyman. The Brooklyn Vampire. The Werewolf of Wysteria. Albert Fish wore many names, but get right down to it you are looking into the face of a monster.

I decided that I would start this post with a disclaimer because of the horrific nature of this man’s crimes.  What he did, as you will see, was uniquely horrible.  If you are bothered by the grotesque, I might suggest that you don’t read on. If you don’t mind…well…here goes!

Albert Fish (dubbed by papers as “The Werewolf of Wysteria”, “The Brooklyn Vampire”, and “The Boogeyman”) was born May 19 1870 to a family plagued by mental illness.  The unfortunate clan had a veritable laundry list of psychiatric disorders sprinkled all throughout its history: religious mania, delusions, psychosis.  I don’t think then that it would have been a surprise to anyone that Albert Fish would wind up sick in the head, but I very much doubt anyone could have predicted the dark places his madness would take him.

We know now that such madness (or mental illness if you feel like being clinical) is indeed heritable, but also that a healthy environment can offset the psychiatric disturbances encoded by nature. Genetics loads the gun, and environment pulls the trigger.

Unfortunately, Fish’s upbringing was as unfortunate as his heritage.  He was orphaned around age 12 and sent to an orphanage, where he experienced unspeakable brutality.  He and the other boys would be ordered to strip naked and they would be beaten in front of one another.  Eventually, Fish began to derive sexual gratification from the beatings and would be teased when he became aroused during one.

These early experiences in large part set the stage for the horrors to come.  As Fish grew older he began to indulge in depravity on a scale that only Caligula or the Marquis de Sade could fully appreciate.  He was apparently bisexual (he had homosexual lovers but he also was married and fathered six children), a pedophile, and he engaged in coprophilia, urophilia, sadism, masochism, and infibulation (he pierced himself needles – Fish had about two dozen needles lodged in his pelvis at autopsy.)

Albert Fish's X-Ray, depicting the pins and needles Albert Fish inserted into himself to fulfill his sick perversions.

In this X-Ray image, you can see the pins and needles Fish inserted into himself.

Reading the list of Fish’s sins is like reading Satan’s to-do list.   On more than one occasion, Fish had his own children and neighborhood children beat him with a custom paddle he’d built that was studded with nails.  He sent letters to women who posted personal ads, letters so foul that even though they were submitted as evidence in his trial they were not read aloud.

Albert Fish’s depravity culminated in the torture, murder, and cannibalism that made him infamous in the annals of criminal history.  He chose victims he thought no one would miss, often African American or poor white children.  Fish tortured killed with what he called his Instruments of Hell: a meat cleaver, a saw, the paddle, and knives.

No one can be entirely certain how many children and young men died at this monster’s hands.  Fish claimed to have killed four hundred, but that number is thought to be highly exaggerated.  It’s certain that he killed at least four and  it’s thought he killed three more.

One of those victims was Grace Budd, and it was her murder that brought the monster’s activity to the attention of the world.

Her older brother had advertised in the classifieds, saying he was looking for work in the country.  Fish responded to the ad, posing as a farmer from Long Island named Frank Howard,  hoping to net himself another boy to do his fiendish work on.  He showed up at the Budd house and found the boy too large and intimidating to handle, so he fixated on the boy’s younger sister instead.  The family thought Fish was a godsend: money was tight and his generous offer of $15 a week for farm work endeared them to him.  They thought nothing of it when he claimed he was going to attend a birthday party for his sister, and invited little Grace to go with him.  After all, he was a kindly looking old man and he had given their family a golden opportunity.  Why not trust him?

They would only learn why too late.  Gracie Budd was never seen alive again.

Detective William F. King took the case.  He worked tirelessly for six years tracing tenuous leads to dead ends.  Fish was as elusive as he was monstrous, and it was only when he slipped up and sent a letter to the Gracie’s mother that King had the lead he needed to track the killer down and ultimately bring him to justice.

Grace Budd is the little girl whose murder led to Fish's arrest.

Grace Budd

The text of the letter still exists, although I don’t know if the hard copy does.  I’m not going to reprint its content here – it’s too grotesque and disturbing.  If you feel the need to read it, check out Albert Fish’s Wikipedia entry.  In brief, he told Grace’s mother exactly what he did to the girl – how he strangled her then took nine days to eat her body.  In a bizarre twist, he ends the letter by reassuring the woman that her daughter died a virgin.   Grace’s mother was illiterate, so she had her son read her the letter.

Once he saw the letter, King was galvanized.  He resolved to stop the monster as soon as he could.  The letter was traced to the “New York Private Chauffeur’s Benevolent Association”.  A janitor who worked there confessed to have habitually taken association letterhead home to use as scratch paper.  He’d left some in two of the last locations he’d lived at.

King hit pay dirt at a flophouse on East 52nd Street, where the landlady remembered seeing a man who matched Fish’s description.  He’d asked her to hold a check is son had sent him.  The man wasn’t home at the time though, so King waited for his return.

Naturally, Fish returned while King slipped away for a few hours to do some paperwork down at the police station.  The landlady called King and offered Fish tea to stall for time.  King arrived to confront the beast: a small, thin old man with gray hair and a gray mustache.

While he looked docile enough sitting at the table with his tea, Fish soon showed his true colors by lunging at the detective with a razor blade.  King, however, wasn’t some powerless child – he disarmed and subdued Fish with little effort.  The reign of terror was over.

Fish was arrested and eventually tried for the murder of Grace Budd.  He pleaded innocent due to insanity and had several psychiatrists vouch for the fact that he was indeed insane.  He claimed that voices told him to kill.  He also confessed to several killings, and a number of rapes and molestations.

Despite the psychiatrists efforts, the jury found Fish both sane and guilty.  He was sentenced to death and summarily executed January 16, 1935.  When asked, Fish said that the execution would be “the supreme thrill of my life.”

Albert Fish is easily one of the most depraved killers I’ve ever come across since morbid curiosity brought me to start reading about serial killers.  His crimes are so disgusting, so outlandish, and so horrifying that it’s difficult to process how one human being could be so monstrous.  Some folks at the time said he was the devil incarnate.  I don’t believe that, but I’d say he was about as close as a human being can get.


Dracula: The Prince of Darkness

Dracula: The Prince of Darkness

Bela Lugosi as Dracula – his most iconic role.

Dracula is  a name synonymous with evil and villainy.  He is the Prince of Darkness, capable of shape-shifting and riding moonbeams into his victim’s rooms.  He uses his hypnotic gaze to bend even the staunchest person to his will.  Dracula is cool and detached; Death in the guise of a well-dressed gentleman.

Dracula. I doubt there is anyone in the West who hasn’t heard the name.  The Count has become a pop culture phenomena.  More than 200 movies bear his name, those besides a smorgasbord of books, video games, comics, and any other conceivable entertainment media.  It all started with the novel, Dracula, by Bram Stoker.  Published in 1897, it gave concrete form to the vampire archetype in the West and continues to be one of the best novels on the subject.  Dracula is portrayed as an unstoppable monster, a thing of the night that feasts on the living.  Creepy, gothic, and fascinating to read!  I recommend it to any horror buff out there (who hasn’t read it already.)

Dracula: the character, the book, the phenomena.  Dracula is the confluence of history and folklore, of fact and the dark imaginings of a bygone age.  Vampires have a long tradition in human culture.  The earliest references to blood sucking monsters were recorded on clay tablets by Sumerians over four thousand years ago.

Eastern Europe has a long tradition of vampire stories, where among other things they are known as nosferatuI went into some ideas surrounding the origins of these stories in another entry.  It was these dark stories from which Bram Stoker pulled the demonic aspects of his titular villain.

But as for the name Dracula, that has basis in real history.  You see, the name Dracula and his character in the novel are drawn from and inspired by one man.  This man was Vlad Dracula, Prince of Wallachia.  Never heard of him?  Maybe you’d know him better by his epitaph: Vlad the Impaler.

Vlad Dracula was Prince of Wallachia (part of modern Romania) from the mid to late 15th century.  He ruled with an iron fist, smiting enemies both inside and out with his terrible and sadistic savagery.  He was a cunning general, managing to fend off the much larger Ottoman Empire for many years.  In fact, to this day he is venerated as a hero in Romania, as his rule was the last time until the 20th century that Romania was an independent land.

Vlad the Impaler was the prince of a realm called Wallachia, in modern day Romania.  He is renowned for both his military prowess and his profound cruelty.  His title, Dracula, became the name of the most iconic vampire in history.

Vlad the Impaler

Even so Vlad was a sadistic sociopath ruler.  It is said he impaled fifty thousand of his own people during his reign.  In the infamous Castle Dracula, stories say he situated the torture chambers underneath his bed chamber so he could fall asleep to the wails of his victims.  He was said to take his meals amongst his impaled victims, dipping his bread in their blood.  Once a soldier complained about the stench of the dying men, women, and children (Vlad was no respecter of persons.)  Vlad ordered the soldier impaled on a longer stake, so he would be above the smell.  Once, a delegation of Ottoman Turks appeared in Vlad’s court.  He asked them to remove their turbans out of respect.  They refused, saying their religion forbade it. So he had the turbans nailed to their heads.

The Ottoman Emperor Mehmed III invaded Wallachia during Vlad’s reign.  He was subjected to a horrific guerrilla war, and once he came across an entire field forested with impaled victims, both Wallachian and Ottoman.  He was so overcome by the savagery he fled Wallachia, appointing a top general to oversee the invasion, and never returned there.

As I said Vlad loved him some impaling.  Later in life, through a shift in political fortunes, he found himself locked away in a tower for several years.  He wiled away the long hours by impaling rats on slivers of wood, or nailing them to the wall.  Impaling was a pretty horrific way to die.  A greased stake would be inserted into the rectum or vagina, and the person’s own body weight would drive the stake through their insides.  The person could be alive for days until they died of shock, internal bleeding, exposure, or dehydration.  If you were ‘lucky’ the stake would be sharpened and driven through the chest instead.  However, Vlad wasn’t known for such mercy – most of his victims died in agony.

So there you have it.  Creature of the night, or sadistic sociopathic ruler, either way Dracula is not a man to be trifled with.  Is it any wonder that he has haunted our collective dreams for over a hundred years now?


Dracula (1931)

Dracula (1931) is a Universal pictures classic horror movie, based on the novel Dracula by Bram Stoker.

“A Nightmare of Horror!”

Dracula is perhaps the most famous of the Universal monsters, and certainly the most widely portrayed: hundreds of books, films and comics have been based on the Count, including the 1931 classic starring Bela Lugosi. Dracula saw Bela Lugosi in the most iconic role of his career.  His portrayal of the titular Count set the precedent for all the portrayals to follow, and solidified the image of the gentleman from Transylvania in the American consciousness.

The movie sees the vampire buying a creepy old abbey (of course!) in London.  He becomes obsessed with Mina Harker, and is determined to make her into a vampiress. It’s up to John Harker and Van Helsing to stop the Count and end his evil for good.

This was one of the first big horror movies.  It played to sold out crowds back in its day, and supposedly the horror was so overwhelming to people that they fainted in the theaters.  This movie launched Universal as a horror maverick, leading to the more successful Frankenstein later the same year.  Bela Lugosi was so good in his role that, unfortunately for him, he became typecast as the Count.  So far as I know, he never had another movie as big as Dracula, and later fell in with Ed Wood Jr., a director infamous for his horrible movies. The last movie Lugosi did, Plan 9 from Outer Space, is widely regarded as one of the worst movies ever made.

Despite this being one of the best portrayals of Count Dracula, I find myself a bit underwhelmed by this movie.  Maybe it was the time of night that I watched it (that magic time between about 4p.m. and 6p.m. when my energy drops and it’s time to take a nap) or maybe it wasn’t as good as I remembered it being.  I feel this movie is my least favorite of the Universal classics.  It feels like it goes on for a lot longer than its hour and fifteen minutes, but then I might think that way because I was half asleep when I watched it.  Or it might be because I’m not big on vampires. Something about a monster that sleeps half the day and is utterly defenseless while doing so just leaves me cold.

Still, for you horror hounds and vampire fans out there, this is a must watch.  Sure there are some problems with it. The special effects are dated as all get out (paper bats and armadillos instead of rats, for starters) and the acting is a bit cheesy at times (although Renfield, the main culprit of the cheesiness, is entertaining with his wild eyed madness.)  It’s still a fun little movie, just don’t watch it between 4 and 6 p.m.!


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