Collaboration Story by Sean M. Adams and Fran Marie
You know of my shaman ways hypnotizing the audience with my lyrical journey through love,death and pain… as I watched over them with my lizard king eyes.
How I once sang about The End after trying to Break On Through To The Other Side.
Darkness would Light My Fire as I waited for my Crystal Ship to take me away
Becoming A Rider Of The Storm
People Are Strange after seeing the world through my drug enhanced dreams.
The alcoholic messiah will soon rise again!
The story that remains untold and unwritten is what really happened to me
That night as I laid back in a trance against the bath tub walls
Some say I really died that night and was buried in one my own shaman dreams
What you never heard in music legend history is I did return from the grave
As a lost soul of eternal darkness, blood thirsty for the women I once desired.
Now wake up into this dark lyrical journey and let the lizard king’s tale begin!
As I laid inside my own watery tomb feeling the last beats of my heart fading away
I felt the deadly presence of two darken souls leaning over me
A third mysterious shadow stood in the corner but quickly disappeared in a fog
One of the cold pale figures asked me as a Raven perched on his shoulder
How would I like to become one with the night?
He told me he was Edgar Allan Poe, resurrected from a drunken life becoming a blood sucker of the dark.His deadly friend introduced himself the first master of horror and the blackened savior of the full moon light
Before he baptized me through the fire and poisoned tainted my blood with his own
Poe explained how the Bard of tragedy, love and death William Shakespeare now the lord of the underground had given him a choice of death or eternal darkness.
Later on Shakespeare had told Poe of another damned soul William Blake that he had transformed before him.
The three of them ruled the earth until 1937 when Shakespeare and Blake decided to let me reign and they would go underground for centuries to rest.
Poe told me alone he searched the endless nights till he found the dying spirit of H.P Lovecraft and transformed him into his blood sucking apprentice.
As years went by Poe and Lovecraft drained the life and feasted upon many worthless prey adding Lovecraft’s own touches of horror to corrupt the helpless minds and release out his own rage.
Soon the streets were covered with blood and my own tell-tale heart gave no mercy and respect to the petrified gazes that now haunted the night.Poe soon grew tired and kept a close eye on my career looking for a young wild soul to enchant the earth.
My stage closed and the doors would finally open into a new darkened world
In 1971 in Paris I will soon taste my own transformation into the blood of fire.
I pledge my life to the craving of the flesh and become a worshiper of the moon.
Poe soon went underground to join Shakespeare and Blake handing over the reigns to Lovecraft and I become his new apprentice.
Together we would own the night with Lovecraft’s way of controlling the dark and my mystical ways of putting females into my helpless shaman induced trance.
A mysterious presence always lurked in the corners behind us slowly fading into the night.
It was the same shadow I saw before my transformation into darkness.
Somehow I felt Poe left a sinister secret untold
Soon the truth would be revealed upon our midnight eyes when within a welkin sphere ofrevealations unknown sprung forth,erasing eons of time and space as a blood red moon sighed and yawned in sullen refrain alone waiting for me to reign as only the lizard-eyed king can. New Doors now are now open to my eyes which have wept and whose soul has slept in sad illusions of a mortal earth.I had eaten of red forbidden fruit in a underworld of moral decay seeking the mysteries of a higher realm which I now possess,having dominion over dark forces that rule the wicked night winds.
My night prowling began and I had a vague idea of whom I wished to resurrect that cold rainy night in 1979. it was Sid Vicious who would receive my gift, but once I opened the tomb I found Nancy's body, Sid's quite dead girlfriend. I had no choice.
As much as I hated this sick chick she was my only connection to Sid.I would revive her long enough to get the information I needed.I reached inside my MoJo bag of charms. I had to inject this one with diluted weak blood,the stench of decay was hard even for me to digest.Slowly the b***h rose up cussing and ranting as if she was in charge of life itself!
"I need Sid where is he?", I asked,
"That crazy SOB killed me! slashed me like yesterday's trash" she said,
"You are trash, Nancy" I said
"Anyway he got what was coming to him.He died too, crazy old Sid shot up with a herion, over dose, yeah, serves him right too!
" "Never mind all that, How do you know? you been dead a year"
"Oh I know alright because his spirit is on top of me and we're going back to hell for all eternity so you can't have him.You see old Sid was cremated and his ashes dumped on my trashy gggravvv ohhh
With that news I threw her back into her grave and covered her up,what a b***h! no wonder Sid killed her!
I then knew Sid Vicious wasn't going to be one to hunt the haunting night runs with me.
My search for a new soul begins.
Another year and as dark December draws nigh, the long sinister shadows point me in
a new direction down Penny Lane and across Strawberry Fields. I roamed past dead weeds leading a path to a newly dug grave,of course I knew it had to be John, who better than John would fill the billI. I was thrilled with the thought of raising Lennon from the dead.I still felt the presence of Lovecraft, he had taught me well, I didn't want him to think he had made the wrong choice in selecting me as the chosen one to take control.NO! I did not want to let him down.
I reached inside my mojo once again and withdrew a vial of my red liquid blood and dropped some LSD into it. Bending over John I pryed his thin white lips open and pour the vile tainted solution into his mouth.
John sprang to life fast; happy as hell and trippin' singing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds.
Oh yeah, I thought, John's the one! then just like a corpse he fell over
Man,people are strange especially the dead ones.
"John, wake up! John!
His eyes had a green eerie glow and a peaceful smile came over his face as he sat up.
"What's with you John, you're acting so weird"
He said "Imagine"
Imagine what John?"What are you talking about?
"Imagine peace for all the people"he answered.
Had he lost his freaking mind? He walked away in a trance mumbling something about flowers and peace.It was obvious his idea of redemption wasn't at all like mine.
He was on a crusade to save souls,I was on a midnight quest to own them.
It was then I knew John was not the partner to rule the dark realms of the underworld
with me.Time and space didn't matter anymore at this point. I needed to find someone
who was more like me and give them the strongest force of dark life, making them unto my image.
The bloodline must continue as it has for centuries to roam this god-forsaken world
putting the vampire mark upon the souls of mankind.
I am the power; the walking curse of darkness,I will seek a partner as evil and rotten to the core as myself,I will find him count on it!
Another fourteen years roaming this earth taking every soul I can find tonight.
I look to the moon as a sleek dark fog drifts across it's pale blue face, I see the signs,I hear the moon sigh once again, a distant shadow draws nearer,I feel it watching in the evening mist of an april night, it `smells like teen spirit` and so I look toward the moon for guidence and follow its darken path.
I was led to a room where I saw a young man lying dead, his name was Kurt Cobain and he had been shot in the head. I needed this soul, he reminded me of myself, and he looked to be around the same age as I was when I died. His body was still warm, he hadn't been dead very long. I had to get to this one fast before anything else could go wrong.
Just outside the bathroom door in the room was a young guy lying on the carpet. I felt his wrist and found a very faint pulse that 's when I knew what had to be done~ My mojo had ran dry over these years and I needed a fresh full supply of blood. After draining his blood, I picked up the shotgun not lying by Kurt or his look-a-like double. I picked up the gun and blew an identical hole in his head. I then switched the bodies and transformed Kurt, as I did so a darken shadow passed over me as I was turning Kurt to be a new force, one with the night. I knew this third time was a charm and although I didn't know it at the time Cobain was destined to fly the dark winds with me as it had been written in the book of the dead long ago.
Soon I and my new apprentice would add our fangs to the rock and roll lifestyle sex, blood and anything we could inject into our hungry veins.
I was teaching Kurt the dark ways of the night when I felt the mysterious shadow watching again. A darken shiver transcending down my pale white spine. Kurt watching in horror as a dog- like creature transformed into the legend Bram Stoker the man and myth behind Dracula.
Bram began to explain that Poe had made his soul immortal in 1912 making him part of the destiny that he once created, but this was not fiction he told me with a fanged shaped grin. This is the real thing my bloody friend. He said, I love breathing in the innocence of the night and mixing it with his touch of evil and madness.
Bram went on to explain that Poe had made him a soul sucker in secret. Shakespeare and Blake felt threatened by his darkness and feared he would take them out eventually for complete control over the vampire race. Poe fascinated by the knowledge of Bram’s view point of the vampire lifestyle went behind Shakespeare’s back and learned the power of mind control to hide his deadly secret from him.
He told me how he and Poe had made a pact in blood and how he would guard Poe always hiding in the shadows till Poe went underground. Then Bram told me how he became a watcher of the bleeding night. Feeding to grow more stronger and powerful overtime and was told around 1994 to step out of the shadows and give Lord Mojo a firm warning.
He said,Lizard King my deadly friend as long as you don’t f**k up the vampire legacy I will stay out of sight! Waiting in the shadows for me to make a fatal mistake, with a powerful laugh that put a crack in the moon Bram then vanished out of sight. Confused and hurt by the trust of my head master Poe I decided I must prepare and transform more dying souls and gain more force and power to stay in control of the earth till my time of rest.
I must prepare Kurt or someone more powerful to soon take my throne. I will now search the night to find the darkest and deadliest soul alive to transform and have my own secret plan. Let’s see which forsaken soul will get the last laugh!!!
But that story is left waiting in fresh blood ……
As my true epic tale is finally being told of how Poe resurrected James Douglas Morrison…..
Sean, Thanks so much for touching pens with me on this collaboration write, it was a true pleasure
blending the dark inks on this one~ Sean and I hope you all enjoy " Resurrecting Morrison"
My Review
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A true "trip" through literature into the world of the rock and roll hall of fame! How well Poe could have written many of the rock songs! Sounds of Silence, Last Dance with Mary Jane and with a little of his warped sense of humor, Penicillin Penny. The icon of rock transformed to a vampire. Kind of supports the rumor that he never died and his quest for someone to carry, so truly fits the nature of each deceased person. Really kind of glad that Lennon did not take the "bite." Shows that since his death, one lens in his rose colored glasses may have cracked, but he holds true to his song belief. Hey! Why did you not offer Janis Joplin a taste, they could have all rode around in her mercedes benz. While you have Kurt up, ask if his death was an assisted one. Hmmmm, he may just pay someone a visit. Loved this writing! Cannot say enough about this imaginative work, except that it brought many thoughts through my mind and that means it was beyond genius! Kudos to the collabrative effort of Sean and the goddess of poetry Fran.
Well done. I love the imagery and the feeling you showed through this piece. I am glad to see you entered it in my contest. :) You are a talented writer and I can't wait to see how you place in my contest!
Posted 5 Years Ago
5 Years Ago
Thanks Josalynn..so vey much appreciate your kind words
well done both of u well written intresting creativ and to be honest one of the only storys of its length i have seen on this site i actwally read all of the begining pulled me in but unlike inmost cases which i loos intrest sevral peragrafs in maintained its fierce grip on my imagination until the verry last word. it seems as though its writen for me for a to have been subject to drug enhanced dreams though better described for me as nightmears. my favorit poet growing up was allways poe his raven espeshaly . i find it amazing how uv taken details about past genioses and twisted them intoo this amasingly amagend and worded writing. well done both of you and sarry for spelling im geting a dictonary soon
and it was very well enjoyed...james has haunted my nightmares like the rhetorical animal spirit...guiding me through dream states....this was killer, i've always wanted to write something like this...bra-farking-vo
they were all poets...tortured...dark and spectacular...maybe we need a bit of madness to get our souls to bleed onto the page...I loved the story...I wish you'd break it up into sections so we don't lose out way reading it...but that is just so we can keep reading to the end...
Great job...
To an extent, this reads like a synopsis of a greater story to be told. It is a premise reminiscent of the Harvard Lampoon's Bored of the Rings. It has a dark edge to it though, and not the comical nature that is so present in many spoofs or alternate telling of a story. One is left with the desire to read more, to get lost in the details of the story. With elements of conflict, the flow of a plot, this could easily (well, relatively easily) become a novel or a series of novels/novellas detailing this alternate world. The audience for such would include many literary rebels, cultural left overs, and a society that trades in blood the cost of that which we consider hip. Thank you for sharing this with us.
What a fun romp! it is always interesting to imagine what happens "behind the scenes" with the souls of those whose words and lives seem eerily bound to places beyond human comprehension. I think Lovecraft himself documented it best, when he wrote about the artist whose paintings of demons were strikingly haunting because they were so realistic. The artist was tortured in his life, and was semi-mad. Upon his death, a friend discovered, in the artist's coat pocket, a photograph from Hell. The artist's work was so amazingly good, because he was drawing from real life. It's interesting to speculate on where these people get inspiration from, and if they do reach out to each other from beyond the grave for their inspiration and legacy.