Now that I have your undivided attention, I will tell a tale so macabre, so bone-chilling, so blood-curdling it can’t be made up.
But totally is.
“I never knew the old Vienna before the war with its Strauss music, its glamour and easy charm. Constantinople suited me better,” said Edgar as he peered into the crashing sea from the ship’s deck. A maniacal smile began to curl under his mustache.
“Dr. Poe!” yelled Constance Titsnass, the ship’s Austrian first mate. “We’re here!”
Edgar flew to the helm of the ship and gazed upon the faint glow coming the castle.
“Romania!” he cried. “The birth place of a thousand Vampyre movies!”
“What’s a ‘movie’?” inquired Constance Titsnass.
“Something they invent in, like, a hundred years to have Robert Pattinson start in. Never mind just steer the fucking ship.”
With that, Constance Titsnass steered the ship onto the shore.
“Steady! Steady, I say! We cannot damage the body!”
August 3, 1789
Dear Dr. Poe,
It is with great sorrow I must inform you of your father’s passing. They needed a bigger boat.
Why – with deep regret – must I write such words when you are across the sea in dreary Transylvania? And what is this nonsense about “experiments” I hear? Surely, you can’t believe it will work?
Will you ever come home to your beautiful, charming fiancee? All she does is speak of you when I see her – which is all the time. Even when she’s wasted and vulnerable, the talk is only of you. It’s disappointing. Very disappointing. And confusing.
PS – Please add me on snapchat.
September 15, 1789
Nunesense Nonsense, you say? Come to the old country of our gypsy ancestors and I’ll prove with my bare heads there’s no nonsense here.
PS – is your username @headlessIke ?
Ichabod stepped out of his carriage onto the cobblestone Paris street. He wiped the sweat from his shining brow and looked up to the heavens. There, looming in front of him was the Palais Garnier (the Opera House of Paris for all you Americans) bustling with patrons awaiting to enter. Ichabod thought he would squeeze a show in before heading to Transylvania, since he got a phenomenal deal on Groupon.
“Ello, Govnah! A flower for your lady?” Screeched a timeless, exotic hag.
“Dear God, wench! You smell of piss! Away, away!” Ichabod declared as he ran past toward the opera’s entrance.
“Hey, that’s Eliza Doolittle to you! I’m not any wench, you sick fuck!”
Ichabod settled into Box 5 just as the house lights dimmed. He felt an uneasiness in the private box, an uneasiness he hadn’t felt since his childhood, when he witnessed the hanging of Winifred Sanderson and her two sisters.
Onstage, Fatine started to dream a dream of time gone by. Ichabod was mesmerized by the song but thought some of her acting choices were trite. Just then a booming voice silenced Fatine’s melody. The orchestra halted.
“I ordered for Box 5 to be kept empty,” said a voice which echoed throughout the opera house.
“Oh boy.” Whispered Ichabod.
“Didn’t a make clear that Box 5 was to be for me and me alone?” The taunting voice added.
The crowd gasped. Could it be?
“The Opera Ghost! It’s him!” Cried a patron.
“It’s the Phantom of the Opera!” shrieked Fatine. “
“If you will not obey my request, then it shall be death to you all!” Echoed the Opera Ghost.
There was another BOOM then a cloud of smoke appeared on stage. There stood the Phantom.
At this point, the audience went bat shit and ran for the doors. The Opera Ghost grabbed Fatine.
“Wait!” cried Ichabod. “It was a Groupon!”
The Phantom turned his head to Box 5.
“What?” He said.
Ichabod replied, “It wasn’t the Opera’s fault. I booked it on Groupon. Groupon obviously overbooked your box.”
“Oh,” said the Opera Ghost. “I’ll have to call them again.”
October 3, 1789
My Dearest Edgar,
I cannot wait any longer. By the time this reaches you I will have sailed to Transylvania, for I am overtaken with worry.
In my dreams, I had a vision of us in a breathtaking, isolated hotel in Colorado. You were the caretaker and we had a son. Oh, darling it was lovely! I want us to go to that empty hotel and be together once again!
Your 13 year-old first cousin and fiancee,
PS – By the time you finish reading this I will be at your door.
There was a rapping at Edgar’s chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” he muttered, “tapping at my chamber door.”
He opened the door, “Lenore! I just finished your letter!”
“I know,” Lenore replied in an old timey voice.
She collapsed into his arms, like ladies did in old timey movies.
“Oh, my Darling, Edgar! Why are you here in this dreadful castle?” Come home so we can be wed.”
Edgar rebuked, “Lenore – listen carefully.”
“What?” She replied.
“You must listen to me!” Edgar screamed.
“Oh, Eddie you frighten me! Please just come home to Colorado!” Lenore begged.
“I mustn’t. I’m on the brink of a new science. What if I told you I could bring life to the dead?” Edgar inquired.
There was a gleam in his eye she had never seen before.
“I’d say, ‘fuck that.’” She replied.
He grabbed her shoulders. “My love, up at the top of this castle tower is my creation, waiting patiently for me to give it life.”
Lenore gasped. “But it’s All Hallows’ Eve. At the stroke of midnight you will turn into a pumpkin!”
“That’s why I have not moment to waste. Come!”
Edgar lead Lenore up the winding tower steps. The light from the full moon guiding their way.
Ichabod flew on his trusty stead.
“With haste, Trusty Stead!”
He peered up at the full moon. He knew what was to come.
October 31, 1789
Alas, you could not stay. Your business in Transylvania I know was of utmost importance, but I do wish we could have shared one last drink before your ride.
I contacted Groupon and sorted the whole mess out.
Upon your return to Paris there will be two tickets waiting for you at the box office.
PS – I hope you score with Lenore.
Thunder rattled the tower walls as lightning flashed. On a platform in the center of the room lay a gargantuan mound of human under a white sheet. Lenore did not like this.
“Doctor, it’s time!” Yelled Titsnass, who had grown a back hump from climbing the tower stairs mixed with years of poor posture.
Titsnass and Edgar flipped random switches and levers, stirred bubbling cauldrons and took a break to read “20 Things Twenty-Somethings Are Bad At Doing” on BuzzFeed. Lenore did not like this either.
“Raise the platform!” Edgar ordered.
Titsnass hopped around then hoisted the platform into the sky. The thunder and lightning splashed every which way. In a tizzy, Lenore tried to cover her eyes but forgot how to use her arms. It was all very dramatic.
“Yes! Live! You will live! I AM GOD!” Cackled Edgar.
Just then, Ichabod burst through the door, with a marble tablet in his arms.
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” Ichabod declared.
“No! You must not read from the book!” Boomed Edgar.
“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?” Ichabod recited from the Book of the Dead once more.
The clock struck midnight.
“NEVERMOOOOOORE!” Edgar screamed in agony as he twisted and contorted into a giant, immovable pumpkin. Which immediately exploded.
The tower walls rattled and began to crumble – because obviously.
“Let get the fuck outta here!” Said everyone.
Titsnass, Ichabod and Lenore fled as the castle caved in on them. They made it to the shore just as the entire fortress turned to rubble – because obviously.
January 5, 1790
Colorado is splendid! Ichabod and I are settling into The Overlook nicely. It’s homey – even in the dead of winter with no one else here. I do wish you will visit soon.
I must confess something. I had another vision last night. I was back at that ghastly castle that now lay in pieces. There was fog, but through the fog I saw a form in the distance. As I got closer and closer I could see it was a not a man, but not an animal. It was some sort of creature with the eyes of Satan!
Then I awoke. Oh, Father, it was dreadful. I only pray that whatever it was Edgar conjured up in his insanity does not walk this earth.
But the creature does walk this earth.
And it’s name is Ted Cruz.