However, this story doesn't even contain a whole vampire, as you will see. This story has about as much to do with vampires as an empty gas can has to do with a NASCAR race.
Before we go, let's get a prediction!
Aw man, we are so dicked...
With that, I present you with:
In The Eyes Of A Skull
Because most skulls have eyes.
Written by Nickolaus A. Pacione
Photo Of Author
Word Count: (4,148 Words)
That's 4,148 wasted words.
Late-September, early October 1870 ––
Well shit, that shows how precise the details of this story are going to be.
the telling of a harrowing discovery can be said but what they say of what they found was something too terrifying for words.
Oh holy fucking shit. It can be said, but what they say is too terrifying for words? THAN HOW CAN THEY FUCKING SAY IT? Oh for love of God, That whole sentence just... wait... Oh fuck!
NO CLIPPY! DON'T DO IT!
The skeleton of a being that was not of this region though it was skeletal remains.
Parse that sentence baby! The skeleton that isn't from around here even though it was a skeleton? Well what the fuck does it look like? Does the skeleton have bat wings? 34 ribs per side? Ninety teeth in the upper jaw? Three heads? Oh, wait, it is "something too terrifying for words" so we don't know.
The words itself cannot even relate to what they saw or related
Not Nicky's words, no. I mean, any half-competent Twilight fan-fiction writer could describe it.
but the nightmares of what lives within a child's tormented mind
Oh man, slithering snakes, formless creatures under the bed, parents that suddenly grow teeth and chase you through a warped and twisted house while your stuffed animal snaps at you with inhuman teeth...
were in the sense true when they looked at them.
When who looked at who or what?
The teeth were not of a human –
Were they of... perhaps... SATAN?
almost animal like, its thirst was that of living blood.
Oooh, spooky. Vampire teeth.
One cannot begin to relate exactly the origin of this being
It's a fucking vampire, not one of the Those Who Dwell Below.
but one can agree on this much – within Glen Ellyn, Illinois, no one had ever seen anything of this nature.
Well of course not, it's like 9 years before the publication of Dracula. I mean, Nosferatu was pretty much a fairly learned man thing in Europe, not really stuff people in Shithole Illinios knew about in 1870.
Though the town is 20 years old at this time, Illinois was just allowed in the union and it was toward the end of the Civil War.
Toward the end? It's 1870 in this story, and the Civil War in the United States lasts from 1861-1865, which means it's FIVE FUCKING YEARS AFTER IT! And "just allowed in the Union"? Seriously? Illinois became a fucking state in
1818for fuck's sake! Talk about total goddamn research fail.
The person who carried the skull to the region was an outsider from Texas, and kept the knife that killed the vampire with him.
Except the fact that in Dracula the Texan Quincey dies, so he couldn't have carried the Bowie Knife anywhere.
Research fail... drink.
Though they all know him by name, they just don't want to say it because the darkness it brings.
The Texan's name? The skull's name?
The sightings of the skull were that of something which is left in an unwritten history that happened within the place.
In Pacione-speak that means that he can't explain shit without everyone twigging onto the fact that he's trying to claim that this is Dracula's skull. Except he's trying to make it more scary.
Though a lady named Trisha Williams saw this skull when it was first brought to town ––
So apparently the Texan rode into town waving it on a pole? Flashing it at women to see if their panties fall down?
she didn't believe in the supernatural until she had the nightmares of a vampire being decapitated.
Dracula. A much better story.
The details of the vampire being dragged out to the sunlight and beheaded were the thing that brought her memory to the horror that was seen in her dreams, and seen from the skull standing before her in the room.
Wait wait wait. So she knows that the vampire was drug out into the sunlight and beheaded, and now the skull is
standingbefore her in a room? What, did the fucking skull grow legs?
She knew that was in the store was something she could not understand until she saw the skull for herself. When she saw the skull she kept having the dreams about the Nosferatu,
So she knows about Nosferatu? She's a well read Shithole Illinois occupant, aint' she, since Dracula is a few years from being published.
but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Umm... a skull is kind of creepy?
Horror in the mind when she looks at the skull, kept thinking ––
"Maybe if I rub this skull on my ass it'll feel real good?"
the skull, that being was in my dreams before it was brought here.
As a skull or as the vampire?
It was from the night she saw that skull she kept seeing the horror play out in her mind -–
Translation: From the night she saw that skull she had nightmares.
of how many that the vampire killed.
Great, so now she's Allison Dubois?
The person who brought the skull to Illinois was a friend of Abram Van Helsing.
Abrahamyou gibbering moron.
After the vampire was killed in Europe he was carrying the skull around like it was some morbid trophy.\
Which is pretty badass for a fucking zombie, considering he died.
"Is there something I can help you with 'mam?" Asked the shopkeeper,
Where the fuck did this guy come from? Did he just spring out of the ground like a goddamn flower?
"I take it you just saw the head of a slain Nosferatu; it was the same vampire that Jon Harker killed with the Bowie Knife he brought with him to Castle Dracula."
"At the book's climax, he prises open Dracula's coffin mere moments before sunset and slashes open Dracula's throat with a kukri knife while Quincey Morris stabs him in the heart with a Bowie knife."
Major fucking research fail!
If you're going to write shitty fan fiction, at least do your goddamn research.
She said nothing, blinked twice in absolute horror.
How does one blink in absolute horror?
She knew nothing about who Jon Harker was but knew one thing – this was the skull of a vampire.
Because she was just told so? Otherwise, how the fuck is some hick spinster from Asshole Illinois know about a vampire?
She thought and asked, "Why did they bring the skull of a vampire to Illinois,
Holy shit, a reasonable question! Probably the ONLY realistic shit in the whole shitpile.
and what does it have to be doing here shown as a macabre display?"
Just sitting there? Oh, wait, she's asking why it is being shown? Apparently between the first sentence and the second sentence she took a cratered headwound because some cowboy was outside firing off his pistols.
Her look in the face was that of someone horrified–
Or eagerly trying to figure out how to fuck the storekeeper?
something with a monstrously;
With a monstrously WHAT? The shopkeepers monster cock?
that it would be in that be the words telling of the horror that was from the castle in Europe with the parchment enclosed written by Dracula himself.
Oh fuck, now there's a letter from Dracula, why can't we just read that letter and go home to drink beer?
"You see, there is something about Glen Ellyn though and history of the supernatural –– this is just part of its history,"
Oh great, now we get some bullshit supernatural stuff? Wonder what it's going to be? (snore)
the shopkeeper responded, "the skull of a vampire even when dead still has power over people.
So this goddamn moron is going to just show it off on the shelf for anyone to see? Come on, he'd at least charge a fucking nickel to see it.
The person who brought the skull in was a student of Abram Van Helsing. People have gone mad looking at the skull of the Nosferatu."
"So I shall just put it on the shelf for all to see! MWAH-HA-HA!"
Trisha had an uneasy look on her face when he was relating the background of the skull, it was almost like she wishing or praying to God that she never asked him about it. She was looking at him like he wasn't right in the head though that was just him –– that he was half-joking in the manner he was relating the story and offered her a drink of whiskey.
HIT THE FUCKING BRAKES, JIMMY!
OK, so this is 1870, which is pretty solid on morals and everything, since Illinois has been a real state for like 50 fucking years and is pretty goddamn civilized. A single woman, in an Illinois small town, goes ALONE to a fucking store, then accepts a goddamn shot of whiskey from the shopkeeper? WHORE!
She accepted the drink because she needed something to help her sleep
What, did night suddenly slam down? Bullshit, she accepted the drink because she wants to fuck the guy.
after he related the rest of the details of the story,
the horrors that were there within her mind were something she couldn't quite relate
Because Nicky is a shitty writer?
otherwise they would lock her up in the same place they placed Mary Todd Lincoln.
For those of you who don't know, Mary Todd Lincoln ended up in the mental institution after the death of her husband and 2 of her sons.
She willfully took the drink
and asked if she could borrow one of the rooms that he had to rent.
So she could fuck the ever-loving shit out of the guy?
He agreed to the offer of the loan because
He wanted to tap that ass?
there was no way she was able to sleep in her own house that night
and still be able to fuck her.
after hearing that story he spoke of. It was mid afternoon when she went up to the room,
OK, so she's going to sleep in the middle of the afternoon? Anyone else believe that perhaps either Nicky doesn't understand what normal people are like, or this was supposed to be a porn story?
he gave her the only room in the place with a bed big enough for two people.
Ladies and Gentlemen, the People's Exhibit B.
Usually when a married couple will come to town.
Or he wants to fuck the ever living shit out of the town spinster.
"You get this one all to yourself.
Till I close down the shop and come up here and ravish your body!
Hope you are able to get some sleep." He responded.
With a leer and a wink.
"I will, thank you for loaning this bed to me for the night –
IT'S MIDAFTERNOON, BITCH!
I wasn't feeling well all week,"
Is that Old West for "Give me cock now!" or something?
she responded as she got under the covers.
So wait, she just got in bed in front of this guy?
Didn't even disrobe just went into bed with what she had on during the day –
That would be: Dress, bustle, bonnet, chemise, petticoats and maybe pantaloons, and God knows what else!
slept in her corset.
Wait, this woman is wandering around town in just her corset? That means she's wandering around with her ass hanging out and flashing everyone her bush. No wonder the shopkeeper gave her whiskey and took her up to a room. Either she's totally delusional, has heat stroke, or is the local hump.
She laid there for a good two hours before falling asleep,
Because it's mid-afternoon?
the skull was the thing that was on her mind.
Bullshit. She's laying there masturbating, waiting for the shopkeeper to come up and replace her juice-slicked fingers with his hard cock.
On her back
With 2 fingers jammed in her cunny.
she drifted to sleep
Wrapped in the pleasant glow of an orgasm.'
but had an uneasy feeling in her mind of what was going on around her.
That the guy was downstairs trying to get the local gossip to shut the fuck up so he could upstairs and get him some Old West poontang?
It was a matter of an hour before the whiskey played its role in helping her fall asleep.
Light. Fucking. Weight.
Though as she drifted to sleep – her mind was still uneasy about the Nosferatu skull that she seen.
Shown Above: Scary Skull.
The dreams she had before the display of the skull were that of a nature –– horror that cannot be explained in words
Ummm, I'm willing to bet she was dreaming of being shoved full of cock.
as she saw the thing scratch gaping wounds into someone and drank their blood.
So she saw it gash holes in them and then SHE drank their blood? Otherwise it would "saw" and "drink", but I think it's funnier to picture her playing with herself and dreaming of drinking blood.
That was the thing that kept her awake at night even though the vampire was long dead
Kept her awake at night? She went to fucking bed in the afternoon for fuck's sake.
– beheaded skull brought in as a morbid display so journalists can photograph the man who killed the vampire with the Bowie knife, and beheaded it with another.
Wait, so it isn't Dracula's skull? It's Quincey Morris' skull? WTF?
It was that which lived within her the past few hours, as she laid on the bed overlooking the rest of the trading post above the shop.
"Kind man, a little morbid, but kind," she said to herself as she slowly drifted to sleep.
So first we're told about her dreams then we hear what she had to say before she went to sleep? Oh come fucking on!
The skull was dwelling in her mind as a waking nightmare, as she pulled the blankets up to her neck and tried to close her eyes.
And here we go! SLEEPSACK BONDAGE TIME!
When she did close her eyes she was able to feel the breathing of something cold on her but nothing was in the room.
So instead of opening her eyes and looking around, she just lays there?
She woke for only a second but went back to sleep – it was still in the mid afternoon when she went to sleep.
(beats head on desk)
Earlier that day she was suffering from a bad cold so that was why she was offered the drink.
So wait, the shopkeeper knows that she was suffering cold, and having a cold makes you walk around dressed only in a corset? WTF?
Alcohol worked as a natural cough suppressant; but the side effect made her want to sleep ––
Do you want to beat him to death as bad as I do?
though she could not blame the effects of the alcohol on her dreaming or what she was dreaming.
Sure she could.
Silence was something that was quite strong in the room as Trisha looked outside the window, from her bed she could hear the trains howling as a wolf to the moon.
Wait, so she's looking out the window, from her bed, while sleeping?
Better try and get some sleep, she thought to herself.
This cold had been killing my senses. I cannot stop coughing and thinking it could be a plague that is going around.
That's called "consumption" and is deadly as shit.
Though these dreams might be something to do with the sickness within me these days – that I haven't slept for days because of them.
And are wandering around in your fucking corset?
Though the man who runs the shop was kind enough to loan me this room,
And hasn't come back up to fuck her? Maybe he's planning on murdering her?
I was too weak to head back to my home on the other side of the county.
The COUNTY? Jesus Christ, so she walked, in her corset, across the COUNTY? Why doesn't this bitch have a keeper?
She began to cough violently not knowing what was going on around her but she closed eyes once again after the spell of coughing was done,
Even though we've been told repeatedly that she was asleep. Continuity and the author of this piece don't even really have a nodding relationship.
then began to realize she was breaking a fever
So she had had a fever and now it's breaking? Well, a fever might be the explanation for walking across a county in her corset.
but couldn't tell the signs of what was going on around her.
So now she's blind?
The strange notion was there that her illness revolved around the skull that was in the room below.
Yet she's been sick for days before she saw the skull? Wow.
She let loose a scream in pain because her body was cramping as she went to open a window then a thud because she hit the floor.
So she let loose a thud when she hit the floor? Wait, is she asleep or what?
The keeper ran up the stairs.
So her keeper has arrived, or is this the guy who runs the store/inn.
Had a frantic look to his face – he was quite young and running the shop to help support a young wife and son.
Yet he offers a room with a bed for 2 to a woman who is walking around dressed only in a corset?
27 years old but young enough to see when something was wrong –
Christ, 27 years old was fucking middle age back then.
he did go to medical school but couldn't afford to keep everything going.
Yeah, like he needed a license back then.
He moved to Glen Ellyn because things got too costly in New England.
So moving across the country in a covered fucking wagon seemed better? This dude is a moron.
He sometimes rented out rooms above the shop to get some extra money.
And he killed the people who stayed there to make meat pies!
His interest in vampires came when he was in correspondence with Jonathan Harker while he corresponded with Harker, at the same time he corresponded with Abram Van Helsing.
So, this retard corresponded with Harker, who was corresponding with himself, and was corresponding with Van Helsing? What. The. Shit.
That was how he got a hold of the Bowie Knife that killed Dracula,
They mailed it via UPS?
but the skull below was that of another vampire –-
Wait, weren't we just told that the skull was Dracula's?
it was killed in Illinois within the winter of 1868.
So, 2 years prior to the story? And 25 years before the events of Dracula took place? (Which took place between 1888 and 1893, if you've done any research on the novel Dracula you know it's tricky, but you have to look at the Icelandic Press preface) Anyway....
They sent the skull to the college he was at and they boiled the flesh off the bones,
OK, so they get the head of a vampire at a medical school, and they BOIL IT? To do what? Make Dracula stew?
then used a method of wax to reserve the skull of the beheaded vampire.
So this wax reserves the skulls? In case someone else comes for the skull first?
His studies of the supernatural came from the Van Helsing correspondence.
Despite the fact that none of this has happened yet?
That his research of the Nosferatu came from the letters written by both Harker and Van Helsing.
TIME TRAVELLING LETTERS!
He thought about those letters as he went up the stairs to help Ms. Williams back into bed;
With what? His penis?
kept a wash basin near by filled with warm water.
So he kept a basic of tepid, dust filmed water by the bed? Ooooh, lucky her.
Went home to his wife for a moment to bring her over to help Ms. Williams out since she was a certified nurse.
So, instead of going upstairs and checking on Crazy Corset Woman, he runs home to get his wife? OK, that's a smart thing, I guess.
"Take easy 'mam, let's get you back into bed here -– you don't look so good," he said while picking her up,
It's spelled ma'am, not 'mam you blithering fucking idiot.
"If you need to stay here a few days you got the bed to recover in.
Wow, how mighty nice of him! A possibly plague ridden, feverish, crazy lady dressed only in a corset can stay in this room for 2!
My wife will be on her way to check you over,
What, did she stay behind after he got her to fold the laundry or something? Does she walk slower because she has a peg leg?
and my older brother is a doctor.
So his older brother did it, but he couldn't? Great, Crazy Corset Lady is in the hands of Failed Medical Student and Peg-Legged Wife.
I will send him a telegram, he is all the way in Milwaukee.
Rather than get the town doctor. What a dick.
Keep the window open for ventilation,
and will try to keep you as comfortable as possible.
Once again, with his penis.
Lay down and I will tuck you in –
With his penis.
we will take good care of you.
My penis and I.
My brother went to Miskatonic University
Blatant ripoff alert!
and worked out of Arkham Hospital there.
So, has he met Batman or the Joker?
He did not study Alchemy
Well I hope not, considering it's the late 1800's.
though but saw practices of Alchemy take place within the walls of the hospital."
Rather than the more modern at the time discipline of Chemistry.
He gently lowered her to the bed
With his penis.
and put the covers around her, tucking part of the blanket under her feet and made a hood around her head,
SLEEPSACK BONDAGE EROTICA ALERT!
then took a damp cloth with some cold water and rested it on her forehead,
After teabagging her.
"you must rest. I know you are uneasy about staying in a place with a vampire's skull but you must rest.
My penis insists.
You are in no condition to be up and about.
Since you were wandering around the county with a fever dressed only in your corset.
Sorry if I had to put you into a cocoon but that was something I learned
On the S&M circuit.
when I was watching my wife and brother work with patients who had hypothermia.
Here is something that might help get your strength back.
It's my penis!
You sleep – I am going to sent a telegram to my brother in Wisconsin."
Like that asshole knows what is going on?
He had a cloth soaked with water, squeezed some of the water over her lips to keep hydrated ––
Instead of having her drink it, like normal humans.
her body was weak, almost if a vampire drained her blood but no bite marks to show of entry. She was sweating bullets as they had no tomorrow, enough sweat to fill a drinking glass.
I know you're supposed to feed a fever, but for fuck's sake, he's going to give her heat stroke!
She was descending into stages of sleep where she was dreaming, but in the dreams she was having a nightmare that she was not able to wake from –– not at that time.
"I was wondering if it was that skull of a slain Nosferatu that invoked her to become this ill," the shopkeeper thought himself.
I doubt it, since she's been ill for several days, and apparently went riding around with her gash and ass hanging out.
The Morse coder was at the desk next to the bed, he used it when he had other sick people pass through town.
Ummm, WTF, over? Morse coders were pretty fucking proprietary to Western Union, the military, and the government. And those old lines weren't like fucking phones. They had to check to see if someone was using the line for transmission, wait, then tap out their ID code, wait for a recognition from down the line, then send the message. Since these were single-transmission lines, no multiplexing, they didn 't allow just some random asshole have a fucking Morse Code tapper in his house.
"Got a hold of my brother – he will be in town within the day to help you. My wife is on her way over to help me while he is making his trip down to Glen Ellyn. You will be in good hands," the shopkeeper responded,
So he just noticed it was next to the bed, and the messages were magically sent because his fucking brother has one shoved up his ass and trails a fucking telegraph wire around behind him?
"I am going back down to check on that skull.
Just in case it walked off.
I will leave you to rest." He had a calm sound to his voice –– she was going deeper into her sleep.
Then why the fuck is he babbling at her and making all these bullshit impossible claims? And why the FUCK isn't he getting a doctor from closer by?
This was when the dream became even more haunting because she felt the cold upon her face of the being that the skull belonged to.
Is he face-fucking her?
She appeared as Cleopatra as she was laying in the bed –– as Cleopatra was being prepared for a burial is how Trisha slept. The way the quit was wrapped around her and her feet elevated –– they might of asked if she was really suffering from the flu but shot and lost a great deal of blood or bit by a timberline rattler.
Read that again. Seriously.
The way she responded with her breathing it was as something was sitting upon her.
In other words, suffocating?
Though her fever is getting higher as her sleep goes further into the dream.
So she stopped sweating?
Her eyes were going faster beneath her eyelids as she drifted in and out of her dreaming sleep.
Wait? She she's drifting in and out of dreaming, but she's still in REM? Bad fucking ass.
"Ophillia, what do you make of her illness ––
And, just like all of Nicky's stories, someone has apparently teleported to another location. Ever notice that? Nobody really walks, runs, crawls, hunches, slides, or gallumphs anywhere? They all teleport.
you worked in and out of hospitals,
Since you're an incompetent bitch who couldn't stay employed at an 1800's hospital?
I never saw someone this sick. I was wondering if you seen anything like this at Miskatonic when you did your residence," he responded with a nervous look.
Responded to fucking WHAT? Nothing was said, asked, shouted, mumbled, or gargled at him. As far as we, the reader, knows he's just talking to a fucking spider on the wall.
"Once – when a person read the manuscripts about the Black Pharaoh.
Stolen from the Cthulu Mythos. So basically what we're reading is some kind of shitty fan-fiction?
I could not fully describe how sick they became but they had to leave him in the bed chamber for a few years.
A nurse? A fucking NURSE can't describe how sick someone because? And had to leave him there for a few fucking years?
His mind never recovered from the illness though," Ophillia answered back with a calm.
She knew that she needed the medicines to help this woman ––
Good fucking call.
there were some plants outside of Glen Ellyn near an old trail.
I fucking hope so. Otherwise they're in the middle of a goddamn desert. Oh, wait, she means plants that can save the sick woman. Of course there is.
She knew where to find the plants,
Of course she did.
and while she knew where they were –– she felt the violent coughing that Trisha was giving off in her sound sleep.
While she knew... WHAT? WHAT MOTHERFUCKER? While she knew where they were.... he just trails fucking off?
And this poorly spelled Ophelia can FEEL the coughing from Trisha? Is she standing there touching the other woman?
Between her coughing she descends further into the dream.
Great. Another tense change. Too bad the Mad Hatter and the Doormouse did of exhaustion.
"All we can do is pray. She will live, but this is a stage of her illness that takes her further into a nightmare she would not wake from because of how sick she is. Others had not lived through this stage of the dream," Ophillia continued,
Wait, if other people have died, she still runs the risk of dying! Seriously, Sparkle Pony, do some goddamn research.
"her fever is high but not fatal. We just have to keep her wrapped up and comfortable."
Aw crap. Something tells me it would better off to just fucking die than be treated by these people.
Trisha felt herself walk out of her body, this must feel like when one is either dreaming or a ghost, she thought.
I love this. No separation between her thoughts and description/action. Cute.
She saw herself laying in the bed with the blankets forming a cocoon around her five foot frame.
Great, more sleepsack shit.
"I look like the Egyptian dead," she quipped to herself,
How the fuck would she know?
"I know I am not dead –– though the skull is still downstairs. I guess I could wander around as I am still asleep."
She seems to be taking this rationally.
She was frightened about what happened to her but in her horror, there had been some curiosity toward her dreams -– that she watched her mummified body, asleep.
Wait, now she's fucking mummified? When did this happen? Did the two psychos babbling downstairs come up, remove her internal organs, fill her with salt and other stuff, and wrap her in linen?
She walked down the stairs to the skull of the Nosferatu ––
In her dream.
with a bit of worry to her eyes, because she was not able to tell why it had lead her into a torment of sickness as the dream begins to play itself into detail.
Let's see if we get any details...
The skull was still lifeless but looked at her if it was still alive with power as it was still alive.
So it just started hypnotizing her or something?
Though it would remain as the eyes of the Black Pharaoh, with everything within the mind of hers as she sleeps –– her body; numb to the touch as she could feel the wet cloth trying to lower her fever.
OH MY GOD MAKE IT STOP!
Her body was shaking from the chills she was feeling on her physical body as she heard the shop keeper and his wife work with her as she slept.
So now they're raping her?
All while she looked at the skull she felt everyone around the outside looking up at the window where the skull was. That when she was asleep she saw the perspective – in the eyes of a skull looking outside toward the rest of a really young Glen Ellyn, Illinois. From them they see a dream as it plays out in the perspective – from them in the eyes of a skull.
I think I'm having a stroke...
That in the window; she heard some chanting for the Prince of Darkness to awaken once again.
From the fucking skull? Or are there Satanists in Glen Ellyn?
But even in her dreaming state she could hear them over her sleeping body taking about notes that were written about the Black Pharaoh that were found at Miskatonic University.
Oh fucking hell...
That being the place the doctor studied medicine.
A fake university. She's so screwed.
The dream carried on for another three hours as her fever was getting even more intense. She could feel the heat from her head burning as she stood before the Black Pharaoh as he held the skull of the beheaded Nosferatu.
Great, so her fever, which was already bad, is getting more intense? This woman's going to have her brain boil!
As she looked back at him with the skull in hand, she knew that something was the reason why she was violently sick.
No shit? There's something that made her sick? She's not just magically and mysteriously sick?
Even in her dreaming state she felt quite faint and dizzy because of the fever that she was suffering from.
I'm not sure what to say about this....
Not even her boyfriend was familiar with how sick she was but knew that she was going to be staying at the shopkeeper's spare bedroom for a little more than a week because a message sent in Morse Code.
THEY AREN'T FUCKING PHONES! And her boyfriend, who apparently she is living in sin with like a harlot according to the morals of the day, has a goddamn Morse Code telegraph in his house too?
Though around her in the dream was silence, the outside as her body slept was the sound of communication between the shopkeeper and his brother.
Wait. He got there in 3 hours? What, did he fucking teleport too?
As she was staring down the eyes of the skull, she felt physical body coughing violently as her fever rose above 106 degrees.
I think it's safe to say she's going to die.
What is going on, why is my fever going above the fatality point?
How the hell does she know this? How the hell does she know how high her fever is? Is she looking down on her body after the retarded shopkeeper and his moronic brother rolled her over, pushed her ass up, and stuck a rectal thermometer in her? Because, you know, if someone is coughing and running a fever and unconscious, you can't exactly put it in their mouth.
I am still breathing but not responsive – couldn't cry for help if I wanted to. I am getting even more ill because of the eyes of the skull –
You were sick before it ever saw you!
it was seeing that blasted skull with the fangs. Bleached and preserved with wax, and this being staring back at me that I cannot describe.
YOU JUST DID! A SKULL WITH FANGS! BLEACHED AND PRESERVED WITH WAX! I think I know what the fuck that looks like!
Just add fangs. Fangs not included. Fangs prohibited in Massachusetts, Nebraska, Texas, Illinois, Iowa, and California.
I know I am in good hands because the nurse and the shopkeeper are looking over my body as I lay sleeping.
She's fucking trusting about a man who plied her with whiskey and encouraged her into bed in the middle of the afternoon, and then tucked her in so tightly she couldn't move.
Why is it that I am able to see this being holding the skull of the beheaded vampire, am I going mad because of my fever or can't I awaken from this nightmare.
Oh for fuck's sake, just die already.
She was shammering in horror;
she didn't know exactly what was going on with her body as she watched the Black Pharaoh –– Nyarlathotep, holding the skull of the Nosferatu.
So now she knows who Nyarlathotep is? Great, talk about a major fucking research fail. None of this stuff, ANY of it involving the Cthulu Mythos, was written until 1920.
He did not say a word to her but did nothing but look at her. She could not tell of the reasons why she was able to see him, the Black Pharaoh himself.
I'm rapidly not caring here.
While her dream play its stages, the shopkeeper got a Morse code message from his brother in Wisconsin.
Wow, they worked just like phones!
She could hear the waking world around her but she was not able to respond.
"Do you hear the tapping? It is the message from my brother I was waiting for," the shopkeeper said with great excitement.
I thought he was already talking to his brother.
His wife, Ophillia, looked on as everything is getting better though the worst of the illness had still been playing out on Trisha. In Trisha's mind, Trisha was praying for death to come upon her because the high fevor was the torment she never asked or prayed for.
"It's my brother, Stephen, according to the message he is starting to make his way down but the trip is going to take some time because he has to take the train down.
Let's see, back then he had 4 fucking choices. Wagon, Horse, Train, Feet. Which one of these do you think would probably be faster? I'm voting... Standing there and wishing.
He's got the medicine to help our guest," the shopkeeper responded hugging his wife,
So fuck you and your plants!
"he saw this happen to one of the doctors when they were studying for their degree,
Then they weren't a fucking doctor.
one of them became violently sick after handling the skull of the Nosferatu. He responded as the vampire bit him but wasn't bit. He will be bringing some Menthol with him, said boiling Menthol leaves would help her recover.
What, like chocolate and dementors? This goddamn story is getting worse all the goddamn time!
Who ever saw the horrors within the eyes of the skull shall become violently sick and pray for death but live –– though in their sickness it would be unbearable."
So far it hasn't seemed that bad, except for the fever, the chills, the out of body experience, and seeing shit. Compared to being like... ohhh... shot. Stabbed. Blown up. Shrapnel. Being in a car crash at 60 MPH. All in all, this ain't that big of a deal.
While they were receiving the messages, the dream played on while Trisha slept – she was in a tormented slumber induced by her fever. Someone help me, she thought to herself – her eyes were and not able to open because she didn't have the strength to open them. My body is a coffin
No, it's in a makeshift sleepsack.
but I know I'm alive but it feels like I am dying. My health depends on a Miskatonic graduate –– God, please let him get here in time. I hear someone reading a Bible to me but I cannot respond. All because I had to see the skull of the beheaded vampire I am sick as this; damn my curiosity – damn it to hell. I just pray to God that the doctor gets here in time because I am not able to wake up –– too weak to open my eyes. I don't know how long I have been asleep or how long I have been sick for. All I can say is that God – don't let me die. I am still looking into the eyes of the Black Pharaoh –– it seems so frightening as he points his finger toward my sleeping body. Still holding the skull in hand.
Why can't we have a description? Why can't we just get it described to us?
The skull – fangs dangling as they were still alive,
Wait? Dangling fangs?
and as the skull had no eyes in it, appeared to stare at me if they were still alive..
Yeah... I'm sure it does.
It was getting into the second day, the doctor arrived – Dr. Robert Franklin. It was close to the midnight hour when he arrived to the shop, "Jesse where is the woman? I am here with the medicine, hope this gets to her in time."
"She's upstairs – resting but really sick. We've been keeping her hydrated and comfortable until you arrived. She got violently sick after seeing the skull of the Nosferatu," he explained with some relief, "What do you want me to do with the Menthol leaves?"
How about you shut the fuck and shove them in your ass?
"Find some hot water or boil some hot water on the stove. Then soak these leaves in with the water; she will recover slowly in a few days. I have seen this happen before but it was a lot worst with the doctors at Miskatonic; they died from this but apparently with Ms. Williams –– wasn't looking at the skull that long. Ophillia was watching over her pretty good then," the doctor responded, "Jonathan Harker omitted the details of what happens to a Nosferatu having power even after death. I studied along side with Van Helsing, because he knew how to reverse the effects of a vampire bite."
Holy fucking namedrop Batman.
"She is upstairs – Ophillia was reading scripture to her so she would respond in some way or form. Her fever was getting pretty bad. Thankfully to God –– she was not dying though,
Here's a hint: Someone running a 106 fever for more than an hour or so is FUCKING DYING!
responsive enough where she was moving her head when she slept.
That's not responsive! Jesus, Sparkle Pony, do some goddamn research, or at least learn what the words you use mean.
We had her wrapped up in bedding though because she was badly chilled to the touch.
But we knew she had a fever!
She tried to open a window but collapsed after walking away from the window," the shopkeeper responded.
While the brothers spoke downstairs; Ophilla was dampening the lips of Trisha with the cloth soaked with water. "Hang in there, the doctor is down stairs." Trisha responded slightly with a small moan, took the water as it was damped with a cloth to her lips. The doctor came up the stairs with the cooled water with the menthol leaves boiled into it, slowly he walked up without waking her.
Obviously he can't teleport. I'll be honest, this was one of the few times I've actually seen someone move like a normal human being.
"Sis, give this to her. Soak it on a cloth and rest it upon her head – Ms. Williams will slowly recover it should clear up her passages. Her fever will break in a matter of hours. Something I learned in the university, during my days as a resident."
Why the fuck he couldn't just tell them to use Menthol over the telegraph?
It was eight hours later, Trisha began to awaken –– the scent in the room smelled somewhat like Menthol. She did not sit up but she knew that someone was watching over her, everyone around her were sound asleep. The days of vigil were paying a toll. She just stayed in bed – though still sick, but the details of her dream were still clear. The trigger was the skull –– that skull belonging to the slain Nosferatu.
Wait? That's it? The skull is still downstairs? Weirdo sick woman who wanders around in just her corset recovers from Menthol?
THIS IS ONE OF THE WORST FUCKING VAMPIRE STORIES I HAVE EVER READ!
Seriously. I've read better shit than this on the walls of a rest stop bathroom.
I can't even rate this piece of pig's shit. I'll just give it a "STOP WRITING: PACIONE!"