Chronicle of Blood (Chapter-B)

The 2nd-chapter of my (special) Chronicles-trilogy of vampire-dialysis finds the trekkers (Amlan/Marcus) in the Urals-castle, uniforming an aged sorceress of the darkness for a 'working' compass.

My 2nd-installment in my special 3-day vampire trilogy, from my original Chronicle of Blood (Chapter-A), once more inspired by the work/text/style of vampire-writer Anne Rice. 

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AMLAN: With our acquired merits in Romania, this is a new Urals challenge, pal.

MARCUS: We've found that vampire-doctor woods challenge; this is new!

AMLAN: We're tracking our newest lead to the mountains of Eastern Europe.

MARCUS: The Urals are rich in trekking richness for colored-glass/transit/maps.

AMLAN: We know this special vampire sorceress lurking in a Urals-castle is IQ.

MARCUS: If we engage this blood-woman, we're Selfie-culture 'face' sports.

AMLAN: Good for the leviathan (Selfie-like).

This 2nd-chapter of the adventure of two affable but serious vampire-legend inquirers, Amlan and Marcus, finds the two 'heroes' of dark-skies using clues/cues to get to the somewhat darkened skies of the Urals mountains of Eastern Europe, which required them to keep their special/authentic/useful vampire-crusader briefcase/kit of tools and defense-items, which they hoped would feel like trophy-sport (hmmm).

When Amlan/Marcus got to the Urals, they'd rightly decided to wander around the rich/storied mountains for simple photo-synthesis 'consciousness' for the Ego and took-stock of the range and environment-atmospherics of what made this Earth-space the right-stuff of terrain and heavens dodecahedrons (for the Ego).

They got to their Urals-castle in question, where the aged vampire-sorceress (Dartmouth) lurked and wanted to engage the dark side immortals-messenger or blood-beings 'messenger' of strange fates; and Amlan decided (rightly?) to snatch out the holy-water from their vampire-briefcase and wandered around this (now-abandoned) Urals-castle in the morning of one glorious Saturday of Earth's incomplete-lines of certain 'sports' leviathan (hmmm).

DARTMOUTH: You've the look of literature-and-text scholarship suit, heroes.

AMLAN/MARCUS: You're the vampire-woman we've sought now (Dartmouth).

DARTMOUTH: Don't be coy about your inquiry for the bread/fruit of Hell, heroes.

AMLAN/MARCUS: Amlan's got the holy-water to splash on your head, vampire!

DARTMOUTH: Do you not doubt I would not shirk; for my wisdom's humbling?

AMLAN/MARCUS: What's any special adjective for warrant of your distance?

DARTMOUTH: Be gone from my sight in these Urals, lest I cast my travels to you.

AMLAN/MARCUS: You'd been a wandering 'specter' of some other castle/tower.

DARTMOUTH: You've guessed with wise-helmet; but this secret's cost; depart.

AMLAN/MARCUS: We depart then from you (Dartmouth) with art's lead.

DARTMOUTH: Keep the bread-leviathan a deep-secret for your Ego.

AMLAN/MARCUS: Farewell...Dartmouth's the rhyme for 'collected' fiction.

Amlan/Marcus departed from the sight of the eerie and pensive aged sorceress-vampire (Dartmouth) lurking in-secret in that abandoned Urals-castle with great consternations. The two vampire-readers didn't wish to keep any disclosure 'agenda' concerning Dartmouth's keep or castle-wandering languages for Hell. They did learn something about themselves; and perchance found great tomato-juice comforts for 'consciousness' pre-trek to their final-destination for their chronicle for blood-dialysis...leading them to a hospitality-readings for sport to a 'defined' area of Vancouver (with a streets-laughter conclusion unknown).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)