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Part2. Chap. 3 Dead Hook: The Seven SistersPart 2. Chapter 3. The Ties That Bind. Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters, Moses watched his Mistress with eyes the color of jasper stone with interest, almost like a dog that waited for a treat. But when she started to speak to herself and answer herself, his yellow eyes narrowed. She had changed into a simple black dress and had pinned her long hair up in a chignon. She wore a strand of black “River” pearls around her slender neck and long gold earrings with black matching pearls threaded onto the long gold chains. At first, she had been telling him of their trip to Rosa’s later tonight. Talking about the Water Taxi that they would catch at the South Street Seaport docking area and take it to Ikea and Red Hook where they would disembark on the quaint cobblestoned streets of the small area. Moses had merely gazed at her while she walked through the transept and stared up at the small clerestory windows above the altar of St. Edward’s. “I just love this black marble floor and the Roman columns must stay when I have this area renovated.” Jai was never afraid to say anything to her staunch guardian. He allowed her to talk on and on. Something that she could never do with her friends. She once again stood in front of the forlorn Christ and then....something....in the air....shifted. The blustery, rainy night had become dark and electricity seemed to shoot through the cavernous space. Moses stepped quickly toward his charge and when she turned to face him, she had.....changed. Gone were the amethyst eyes. They were now the color of corn flowers. Jai’s face had “changed.” Oh not, the natural visage, that was still the same, but it seemed that it had softened to that of a young teen aged version of the 25 year old walker. She stared up at the giant black man. And tears filled the innocent blue eyes. It seemed that she had never seen the towering Moses before. He was looking into the frightened eyes of a lost soul. The “girl” turned and knelt down in front of the suffering Christ. She folded her hands and began to pray. Moses was alarmed. The guardian in him screamed to be free. Something was wrong. He listened with the ears of an animal and could hear the girl’s words. They were purely in French. But they seemed to be coming from somewhere other than the kneeling figure. “S’il vous plait, aidez-moi Jesus. S’il vous plait le faire sorter. Je veux que, mon corps vers l’arriere! S’il plait a Dieu, aidez-moil. Je veux rentar a la maison! Je m’ennuie de mas famile. Mes amis. Je suis si fatigue de se battre pour ce qui est le mien!” The kneeling woman cried out, but in the voice of a frightened girl. At the moment, there were frantic knocks and rappings at all three of the church entrances. Moses acute hearing picked up the sounds over the thunder, and the blowing wind outside. His mistress was praying to the gods. This much he knew. She kept repeating the prayer and began rocking back and forth in anguish. And, then, the praying woman collapsed in a heap on the cold black marble of the floor. Moses ran to her as the rattlings and the knocks became louder. He bent to pick the prone figure up and when their flesh touched, his was burned. He almost dropped her, but managed to set the unconscious woman back on the floor. Moses was confused, the spirit inside him was angry. Something interfered with his power. Outside the wind laughed and lightning lit the church windows brightly and when it did, Moses looked up and saw distorted black shadows skittering along the stain glassed windows, could hear their scratching as they tried desperately to enter the church. Moses stood up and screamed a primal yell. He thrust his arms out and with all of his strength, brought the guardian to the surface. He could hear the tearing of the suit that his mistress had had made special to fit his massive fr
Part 1, Chap. 3 Dead Hook: The Seven SistersChapter 3: Part 1. Into The Night Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters In Fort Greene, Brooklyn, the wind blows like the exhaled breaths of an exhausted runner and autumn leaves rain down to frolic about the streets. The clouds that have blanketed the city turn darker, and angry now, they are pregnant with new rain. Fort Greene knows its share of trouble and the residents worry that a new storm will ruin their nights plans. They hurry here and there to get to their destinations as the first bolt of lightning slashes through the roiling clouds and thunder grumbles and echoes across the area in irritation. The ground and sidewalks shake in reverberation, while the wind celebrates its power. Fort Greene’s streets are tree-lined and there are rows of breathtaking brownstones and stone slab sidewalks. Gentrification and a new influx of young hipsters have been both a blessing and a curse for the area. Once a place where gang members terrorized the neighborhood, it is now a place where trendy boutiques and quaint coffee houses line the streets. Where high end restaurants draw the more moneyed residents, and movie producers build their sets. It is here that the French walker has decided to make her home while in New York City. On a street that takes you to the “projects” of Fort Greene, there sits a church that has fallen on hard times. It has also been tainted with scandal, much like many of the Catholic churches around the globe. But to Jai, it is the perfect place to dwell. A place where she can be safe from the evil that roams these streets, unseen, to those that dwell here. The church was once known as St. Edward the Confessor. It is a beautiful, gray brick building that resembles a small French castle, with twin spires, both topped by rust-green crosses. It seems out of place here, where the box like, red brick project buildings hem it in. The church is partially hidden by trees and shrubbery, and it is encapsulated behind a wrought iron fence, of which the gate stays locked. A forlorn ceramic statue of the Virgin Mary guards the front entrance. In the summer, flowers grow up around her. But now, she is caught in a tangle of brown, her paint, chipped and cracked, with what was once a beckoning hand that has broken off. A sad remnant of what had once been. The church has a closed off, forbidden look. New glass and steel skyscrapers gleam and shine. Tucked beneath them, the brick walls of the project buildings are deteriorating and sullen. and this causes the church look as though someone has dropped it here from another time. The Walk-In, who calls herself “Jai” has purchased the old church and has made it her home. A group of teens stand just outside the rusted, thick gate and gaze up at the huge arched window, which is made up of many panes of stained glass, and is displayed on the side of the building. The place is spooky on any day, but with the eerie moans of the wind through the dying trees and bushes, it is much more so. The swirling dark clouds seem to hover above the tall gray turrets that flank each side of the front entrance to the church, as the light, dim as it is, begins to turn to night. The boys are curious about the new “occupants” of the church and find it odd that anyone would want to move into a place so forbidding. “What do ya think they’re doing in there, Buddy?” A young African American boy asks his older brother. The new tenants never come out during the day, ever. But the boys have watched them leave the church after sundown and this gives their over active imaginations a run for their money. Buddy, a tall strapping youth, gazes down at the younger boy and whispers: “Vampires always sleep during the day.” His two friends, start to laugh, but never take their eyes off the building. Will, the younger brother’s eyes widen. He watches the leaves raining down onto the small patch of green and brown lawn. Goose bumps pepper his flesh inside his sweatshirt and chills travel up his spine. He gazes at the small beleaguered statue of the virgin and thinks that this is a very scary place. He never wants to go inside. “Just messin’with ya, little bro. Maybe they’re going to renovate it, turn it into a co-op.” Buddy says, then adds, “Come on. you guys, let’s go shoot some hoops before it gets dark.” The boys agree and begin to walk away. Will, can’t seem to take his eyes from the gray, creepy spires. Lightning flashed right above the church causing all the boys to break out in nervous laughter. “I’m outta here!” Buddy says, as thunder rocks the old church and the trees moan and slap up against the old gray brick. The boys disappear down the street leaving the church all alone again. Inside, the occupants are troubled and wandering the cavernous vaulted space where once a thousand people could have sat. High above the altar, small clerestory windows of stained glass show little light. There are many candles lit inside the nave and in the center of the transept, a large ceramic cross that holds a suffering Christ is prominently displayed. Jai is staring at it and feels the sadness that God must have felt after witnessing his Son’s horrible death. She has decided that she will put her giant four poster bed directly in front of the display. She will not have it removed, the Christ will watch over her as she sleeps. She gazes about the dark cavernous space. There are pillars on each side of the room, they are fluted and very tall. They are eight on each side and remind the woman of some Roman temple. These too, will stay. Off to the side, an African American man of intense height and girth, watches the woman in silence. If he were to speak, it would be in an ancient language, long dead and forgotten. This is the way of guardian spirits summoned from ancient times. They have no need of words. Jai calls the man Moses. He is covered from head to foot with what a casual observer would think were tribal tattoos, but are really powerful protection sigils. He is a shifter and can change into something much more daunting and terrifying if the need should arise. As it is, he is an imposing figure and Jai never fears the darkness with him by her side. “This is a good place for us, no?” Jai says, and knows that Moses will not answer. Her voice echoes softly in the cave like space and turns to look at her guardian. He nods his head and says nothing, his massive arms are crossed. His eyes are a strange yellow color that glow eerily in the candlelight. Like amber stones. The eyes of a beast. Outside the wind grows in intensity as the dying trees sing a dirge and caress the church with the fingers of the dead. Jai is tall and willowy, her hair falls to her waste in auburn waves. She is dressed in a black jumpsuit, which does not detract from her beauty. Her eyes are the color of African violets in the sunlight. But once, they had been the deep blue of a clear autumn sky. When she had been called Marie. The church had reminded her of the medieval castles in her native France and of the happy days spent in her isolated mountain top village as a girl. Until the powerful spirit had come to inhabit her body on a pleasant summer day, many years ago. A spirit that had caused the girl many unhappy moments. The years following, “Jai”, the spirit traveler, had been called on to banish and destroy many of the darker and uglier beings that wreaked havoc on unsuspecting human victims. She had been summoned here, to New York City to work with others that had these same gifts, although different in their nature. Bella Benez, an espiritista, was powerful with the help of her saints, she had the gift of speaking to the dead, in fact, could summon them at will for aid and protection and Rosa, her grandmother, had power to use white magic in the fight for the good, to discern future events and to help the lost. Bella had been given a spirit guardian of her own in the form of a huge German Shepherd, the color of onyx. The creature was strong in magic and guardianship. Even to Jai, his ice blue eyes were unsettling. Not like the gentle brown of most canines. The two men in their little group were as different as night and day. First, there was Miguel. The curandero and herbalist. Miguel was a handsome man who was endowed with the knowledge of eternity. He had the keys to the knowledge of both good spirits and the evil. He had once almost been bested by one of the most evil beings from the dark side in his native Mexico. A demon ruled by bloodlust and the need for power here on the earth. Miguel had spent three days being attacked, beaten, and almost killed by the entity, but through intense prayer and faith, he had finally banished the thing back to its abyss. It was then that he had been called to Gotham, by the unseen presence of the mysterious group that had summoned them all. Then, last but not least, was the tall and dark detective. His power was in the perception that these people, meaning Bella, Rosa, Miguel and Jai were special and that such things as devils, evil spirits and black and white magic, did exist. He had witnessed it first hand in one of the unused tunnel spurs under the city in the form of a clan of bloodsuckers that had made their way into New York City, the winter of 2010. He was now a “believer.” Angus O’Brien was his name and he was a dedicated homicide detective. He worked out of the 23rd Precinct House in Spanish Harlem. He helped to keep the NYPD at bay, when the dark things crept into the city and much more was needed than just loaded firearms and pepper spray. He had once been Bella Benez’ lover and now, part of the group, albeit, unwillingly at times. The memories of what he had seen under the city still haunted him, the creatures who preyed on the homeless that had made the tunnels their homes, to escape the arctic wind and deep snows. What he called the “Year of the Red Snow.” Due to the ungodly amounts of blood spilled for two weeks. Yes, they were a motley crew. But a necessary one. As the end times grew ever nearer, the evil beings were becoming restless and much more dangerous. They knew that the God had plans for them, that their destruction was ever closer. And, really, who that has life in them and knowledge, wishes for it to go dark and still into nothingness? Jai’s cell phone begins to sing to her with the moving Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, and when she looks at it’s lit green face, Bella Benez’ number flashes across the small screen. The notes echo hauntingly in the huge space, as Jai answers the call. “Oui?” She says in her lilting French accent. Thunder rumbles and rolls in waves against the gray brick causing the old church to tremble under its voice.. “We have trouble.” Bella says and the worry is evident in her voice. “Trouble? What kind of trouble, Cherie?” Now Jai, too, becomes filled with trepidation. Moses shifts in his sentry stance where he has been standing by the door that leads from the rectory to the transept. Jai can feel his excitement. Trouble is something that Moses was born for. “It’s Rosa. She has had another of her...”dreams.” She has seen something really terrible. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone. But she did say that we are all involved. She wants to see us. Tonight at 9 p.m.” Bella says in a rush. Jai pictures the tiny Puerto Rican espiritista, pictures her frightened and it is a disturbing thought. Glancing at Moses, Jai nods slowly and says, “We’ll be there, Cherie. 9 p.m., sharp.” They say their goodbyes. Jai looks up at Moses and says: “We have work to do, Cherie.” Moses stares at her and Jai can swear his massive face almost breaks into a smile, his strange yellow eyes sparkling in anticipation. (Part 2 of Chapter 3, coming soon.) Sorry about the messed up paragraph indentations. I have a screwed up filing system in Abiword.
5 Pointz: Set to be Bulldozed, DAMN IT!!! 
New York City Subway Musicians. This is awesome!I'll be back.
Cont. New York City Underground
Subwayshttp://youtu.be/NsJhpYUtldo
Ghosts In The Snow A new horror story by Lisa VetroneUntitled. Lisa Vetrone Carlos Alvarez huddled in the shadowy entrance of an abandoned bodega. He took a shaky drag of a butt he had found on the sidewalk, and pretended to admire the graffiti that decorated the seedy buildings that surrounded him; their darkened windows like the infinite black of demon’s eyes watching him. He was jumpy, paranoid even. Traffic had thinned here and he began to feel the loneliness that held him captive most days move over him. How he wished that things could have been different. That he had not traveled down this path that he found himself on. Carlos shuddered, but not from the plummeting temperatures or the sudden icy exhalation of winter’s frigid breath. The arctic wind blew, without mercy down the avenue; it scoured away the trash that lined the curbs and it reached frozen fingers through Carlos’ threadbare coat to caress his sallow skin. He tossed the butt to the ground and sunk deeper into the doorway of the shuttered bodega. A car came slowly down the street and Carlos did his best to stay hidden. He didn’t need the cops discovering him tonight. But it was only a yellow cab and when it passed, Carlos relaxed. “Muerte!” He hissed, pulling the useless garment tighter around his thin body. The familiar, debilitating nausea of withdrawal began creeping through his intestines; His dealer, Manuel, was late again. Puto! Carlos thought desperately. The wind assailed him and whistled eerily through the old buildings and Carlos thought of ghosts and spirits of the night. It seemed as though they were speaking to him through the gusts. He shook his head like a dog after it’s bath, trying to clear his mind. He felt like he would be sick, yet he had not eaten today. It was then that winter opened its arctic maw spewing fat, wet snowflakes the size of quarters. Somewhere a metallic riot-gate clattered to the sidewalk-closing time-causing Carlos to jump. He was familiar with the sound, having been raised here on the streets of New York City, and he chastised himself for his paranoia. Manuel would come and all would be right again. The restless wind wind slapped at the poor man and he turned his back to it and faced the sheet metal covered door of the abandoned building. Suddenly, he could hear an eerie whispering voice in his ear, “Boo!” Carlos jumped and spun around, wild eyed with fear. There stood Manuel, with that cruel smirk of his, that “I dare you to cross me” look in his hateful eyes. Manuel laughed out loud and jumped back in mock fear, “Cheel out, muchacho! You’re savior is here.” How Carlos hated him. Manuel was not a junkie, he smoked a little weed now and then. His motto: “Never use your own product.” Carlos often referred to him as “El Diablo,” behind Manuel’s back. But only to a select few. Manuel took no disrespect from anyone and once had demonstrated this fact to Carlos when two of his posse had beaten Carlos senseless one night for mouthing off. Carlos glared at the younger and much more healthy man. “Give it to me!” He demanded-the desperation clear in his voice. His eyes were bugging out above his sunken cheeks, the sickness now raging through him. Manuel’s smile disappeared. Carlos found himself being dragged forward by the other man’s muscular hands until their noses were touching. The large gold cross the dealer wore was digging into Carlos’ chest and he smelled the rancid scent of chili sauce. “You disrespecting me, pendejo, Me?” Manuel growled, the threat of bodily harm eminent in his voice. Carlos realized his mistake and softened his facial ex
I HATE Animal Abusegs Recovered From Two Homes (UPDATE X 3) by Ned Berke on Feb 16th, 2012  The owner attempts to get the dog back from an Animal Care & Control worker. Authorities raided two Sheepshead Bay homes owned by one couple, leading to the rescue of 23 dogs living in deplorable conditions. Officials from a slew of agencies – including Animal Care & Control, the Brooklyn District Attorney’s office, FDNY, NYPD, Department of Buildings and Department of Health – descended first on 2713 Avenue Y this morning with a warrant, eventually bursting into the house to find clutter, garbage and 10 poorly cared for Shetland Sheepdogs. Afterwards, authorities moved on to the pet owners’ primary residence at 4215 Bedford Avenue, where they pulled out 13 more dogs – mostly Shetlands. According to a volunteer organization involved in the case, the dogs were underfed, anemic and flea-infested. They had also never seen a veterinarian to receive vaccinations or checkups. The owners are being charged with at least 20 counts of cruelty to animals, according to a representative from the DA’s >attorney on the scene. (CORRECTION [2/17/2012]: The DA has not yet filed charges against the couple.) They were also given fines for various violations related to health and safety matters.
Neighbors of the Avenue Y house, which appeared to be in worse condition, told Sheepshead Bites that the couple has been hoarding the canines for approximately 20 years. However, the couple does not actually live in the Avenue Y house; it has been occupied solely by the shelties. “They only ever go in at night,” said a neighbor. “She shows up with a big bag of dog food and feeds them.” The house does not have gas or running water, neighbors alleged. The immediate next door neighbor told Sheepshead Bites that the couple have kept dogs there for as long as she can remember. “I never had any problems with the people here, but it’s horrible they had so many dogs,” said Beana Manashvily, a neighbor. She said she’s grown so used to the barking that she never notices it anymore. The ASPCA and ACC have made multiple visits to the property, neighbors said, sometimes taking some of the dogs away, but more often never gaining >access to the house. Manashvily also noted the unsanitary conditions, adding that the dogs were never allowed to use the large backyard. Occassionally, the wife would allow them run >free in the driveway. Every garbage night, she said, the wife would take out 10 to 15 heavy duty bags full of garbage. Other neighbors complained of rat problems. The filth and clutter at the Avenue Y home caused concern for the city responders. Firefighters took precautionary measures, such as accessing the roof to look down into the home for safety reasons. A Hazardous Materials Unit also responded. “Ever seen the show Hoarders?” asked an on-scene rep for the DA when asked about the condition of the home. “That’s what it’s like. Hoarders.” The city has condemned the home and will be clearing it out over the next few days.
The investigation into the couple’s alleged animal abuse began at the urging of the Tri-State Shetland Sheepdog Rescue organization, a Long Island-ba Makridakis then contacted the couple and befriended the wife. He visited multiple times, taking photos of the dog’s condition and, sometimes, convincing them to allow him to take some of the dogs to his shelter for adoption. “I think they bred them to sell them, but then I think it became a hoarding type thing,” Makridakis said. He added that the dogs were mostly in-bred. “I showed them pictures of the [dogs we took] in their new homes, happy and healthy, but they wouldn’t let us take the rest. In their minds, they loved these dogs.” Makridakis said he believed the dogs would all make quick and complete recoveries, as their neglect wasn’t as bad as he has seen in other cases. “They’ll be in foster care for six months to a year,” he said. “With proper care and conditioning, they’ll be fine for adoption.” The animals have been taken by Animal Care & Control, where they will be observed for a few days. Tri-State Shetland Sheepdog Rescue will then take custody of the dogs and put them in foster homes. Anyone interested in adopting the animals can contact the organization through their website. This is a breaking news story and may contain inaccuracies. We will update it as more information becomes available. If anyone has more information or additional photos, please send them to tips (at) sheepsheadbites (dot) com. This is the third version of this article.
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I HATE Animal Abusegs Recovered From Two Homes (UPDATE X 3) by Ned Berke on Feb 16th, 2012 The owner attempts to get the dog back from an Animal Care & Control worker. Authorities raided two Sheepshead Bay homes owned by one couple, leading to the rescue of 23 dogs living in deplorable conditions. Officials from a slew of agencies – including Animal Care & Control, the Brooklyn District Attorney’s office, FDNY, NYPD, Department of Buildings and Department of Health – descended first on 2713 Avenue Y this morning with a warrant, eventually bursting into the house to find clutter, garbage and 10 poorly cared for Shetland Sheepdogs. Afterwards, authorities moved on to the pet owners’ primary residence at 4215 Bedford Avenue, where they pulled out 13 more dogs – mostly Shetlands. According to a volunteer organization involved in the case, the dogs were underfed, anemic and flea-infested. They had also never seen a veterinarian to receive vaccinations or checkups. The owners are being charged with at least 20 counts of cruelty to animals, according to a representative from the DA’s >attorney on the scene. (CORRECTION [2/17/2012]: The DA has not yet filed charges against the couple.) They were also given fines for various violations related to health and safety matters.
Neighbors of the Avenue Y house, which appeared to be in worse condition, told Sheepshead Bites that the couple has been hoarding the canines for approximately 20 years. However, the couple does not actually live in the Avenue Y house; it has been occupied solely by the shelties. “They only ever go in at night,” said a neighbor. “She shows up with a big bag of dog food and feeds them.” The house does not have gas or running water, neighbors alleged. The immediate next door neighbor told Sheepshead Bites that the couple have kept dogs there for as long as she can remember. “I never had any problems with the people here, but it’s horrible they had so many dogs,” said Beana Manashvily, a neighbor. She said she’s grown so used to the barking that she never notices it anymore. The ASPCA and ACC have made multiple visits to the property, neighbors said, sometimes taking some of the dogs away, but more often never gaining >access to the house. Manashvily also noted the unsanitary conditions, adding that the dogs were never allowed to use the large backyard. Occassionally, the wife would allow them run >free in the driveway. Every garbage night, she said, the wife would take out 10 to 15 heavy duty bags full of garbage. Other neighbors complained of rat problems. The filth and clutter at the Avenue Y home caused concern for the city responders. Firefighters took precautionary measures, such as accessing the roof to look down into the home for safety reasons. A Hazardous Materials Unit also responded. “Ever seen the show Hoarders?” asked an on-scene rep for the DA when asked about the condition of the home. “That’s what it’s like. Hoarders.” The city has condemned the home and will be clearing it out over the next few days.
The investigation into the couple’s alleged animal abuse began at the urging of the Tri-State Shetland Sheepdog Rescue organization, a Long Island-ba Makridakis then contacted the couple and befriended the wife. He visited multiple times, taking photos of the dog’s condition and, sometimes, convincing them to allow him to take some of the dogs to his shelter for adoption. “I think they bred them to sell them, but then I think it became a hoarding type thing,” Makridakis said. He added that the dogs were mostly in-bred. “I showed them pictures of the [dogs we took] in their new homes, happy and healthy, but they wouldn’t let us take the rest. In their minds, they loved these dogs.” Makridakis said he believed the dogs would all make quick and complete recoveries, as their neglect wasn’t as bad as he has seen in other cases. “They’ll be in foster care for six months to a year,” he said. “With proper care and conditioning, they’ll be fine for adoption.” The animals have been taken by Animal Care & Control, where they will be observed for a few days. Tri-State Shetland Sheepdog Rescue will then take custody of the dogs and put them in foster homes. Anyone interested in adopting the animals can contact the organization through their website. This is a breaking news story and may contain inaccuracies. We will update it as more information becomes available. If anyone has more information or additional photos, please send them to tips (at) sheepsheadbites (dot) com. This is the third version of this article.
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Tags: animal care and control, animal rescues, animal shelters, animals, ave y, bedford ave,health, pets, safety, tim makridakis, tri-state shetland sheepdog rescue
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Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Part2, Chapter 2. Ill WillPar.1) The Palero watches the tall, good-looking Detective leave Baked, a popular long-running bakery on Van Brunt Street, the main drag in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Par.2) He had watched as the cop had answered his cell and said a few words into it. The woman had told him that the cop would be meeting at Rosa Estevez's along with the espiritista and the rest of her little group tonight. Par.3) The Palero bristled with nager. How he hated the lily white santera and her whore of a granddaughter! She had been safe for far too long. Perhaps some day soon, he would send to Rosa the severed head of her beloved nieta. The santos could not protect them forever. Par.4) The palero now thought of the espiritistas guardian. He had plans for him too. He knew his true essence. How he would love to boil his bones in the nganga, stripping them of their flesh. But the large black perro was just a vessel, no more. More powerful measures were needed for the powerful guardian who hid inside. Par.5) The Curandero was another story. The Detective climbed into the unmarked and started it up. But before he had, he had broken el cuco's own law by discarding his cigarette butt onto the sidewalk. 'Too bad, pendejo," the Palero thought. He watched as the shiny big black car pulled away from the curb and headed in the direction of the projects. Par.6) When the unmarked was finally out of sight, the Palero hurried over and picked up the butt and stuck it into his coat pocket. He smiled, showing jagged, yellow teeth in a look of smug evil. Par.7) He thought now of the French woman, Jai, the one with the spirit that lived inside of her. "Walk-In,eh?" He snickered out loud. He would feed her soul to the mpungu, (spirits of the dead that lived in the nganga) along with her guardian. With the help of his followers and in appeasing the woman who breathed revenge, he would at, have his own against the hated Santera, her nieta, and the rest of the self-proclaimed hunters of evil. Par.8) The old man shuddered a little when he thought of the "Walk-In's" gargantuan protector. It was not the huge body that he feared, but the powerful spirit inside the body that would be hard to banish. There was a certain blanco, who's subsequent murder and sacrifice would help with the one called Jai's guardian. The man's spirit would enter the nganga with the rest of the spirits of the dead. The woman had led the way to this one, spittle flying from her mouth, her eyes wide in hatred as she had pointed him out in the night. Par.9) The man, another demon that beat his wife. The woman was beyond all reason, Insane. But he would help her when he killed the man and sacrificed him to her goddess. The essence of the man would join the other evil in the pot and then the Palero himself would go after the Santera, the Seeker of the Light. he himself, was the dark one. The polar opposite. White vs. Black. Good vs. Evil. TO BE CONTINUED.
Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Part 1. Chapter 2: WarningsPar.1) El Barrio isn't what it used to be as my dog and I walk up Third Avenue to my Botanica, one of the last of its kind here in Spanish Harlem. Gentrification has crept in and forced some of us out. But in the year 2017, there are million dollar condos and townhouses sitting empty above our streets. Par.2) Developers tried their best in the beginning of the 21st century to turn El Barrio into something else and failed. For awhile many blancos had moved in and there were many white faces among the sea of brown. But when the summer had come, the streets had become noisy and the crime rate went up. Many of the blancos had moved out, going back to the Upper East or West Sides. This caused the rents to fall. I have been seeing more and more Nyoricans coming back to fill the empty spaces. To me, that is a good thing. Par.2) Miguel Torres is manning the scarred wooden counter of "Rosa's Botanica." He is probably swamped with "clients" as our featured money maker. He is a much sought after Curandero, A Yerbera (herbalist) and healer. Many from the Latino communities come to him to be cured. They come to him when they are sick or feel they have been stricken with "susto", loss of soul. They come to him if they feel they have been cursed. Even in this technological 21st Century belief in devils and evil spirits is rife. Par.3) Ramon and i are a mere half-block away from Rosa's and the East Harlem streets are heavy with early morning traffic. The wind seems to have taken up residence in the City and has been blowing steadily for the last three days. There are still clouds blanketing the sky and I hope that it does not rain. Par.3) Jose Mendez is coming up the avenue carrying an old boombox on his shoulder and the sounds of salsa play quietly. Ramon does not wag his tail and Jose gives my large black German Shepherd by my side, a wide berth. Par.4) "Ola, Bella." He says, eyeing Ramon warily. Ramon stares through him with his strange ice blue eyes. Par.5) "Good morning, Jose." I say and smile. I do not apologize for Ramon's stoic indifference or his protective spirit. You see, Ramon is not really a dog, at all. Par.6) The streets are beginning to fill with pedestrians as we finally enter the botanica. The six-foot statue of Oya, goddess of storms, wind and upheaval is in here place in the display window, She is accompanied by a small altar, some assorted candles, oils, prayer cards and other items that you would expect to find in a shop selling syncretic religious artifacts. Par.7) There are a few regulars browsing through the narrow aisles and Miguel is speaking quietly across the counter to a client. She is purchasing some herbs and candles. She has asked Miguel to come to her apartment for a house call to perform a ritual cleansing, not unusual for this part of the City. I hear her tell him that she feels that there is a negative force and bad mal there. Par.8) In the corner of the shop, a tall, grotesque statue of Santa Muerte peers out into the room with eyeless sockets from her cowl covered skull. She is dressed in red, the color symbolizing love in Mexica belief. She carries a globe in one skeletal claw and in the other, a sickle. At her bony feet, are offerings of cigars, flowers and rum. Par.9) hanging from the ceiling are life-sized statues of the santos. Eleggua, "opener of the doorways", Oggun, his warrior brother, Yemaya, "goddess of the sea, lakes and rivers, Olorun, Creator of all things, waiting to be purchased by devout followers. Our little shop smells of incense, coconuts, mangos and all things tropical. When one enters here, the smells of the street disappear. Par.10) As Miguel speaks to the client, I lead ramon behind the wooden counter and unsnap his leash. He is well-trained and lays down close to Miguel. I busy myself by restocking the peg board that is on the wall behind Miguel and the counter. I replace small plastic bags filled with assorted herbs, things like dried possum and snake, bat guano and other items used in curing, causing love or warding off evil in various spells and charms. Par.11) A woman enters the shop and when she does, a little buzzer goes off and we all stop to look up. This woman is Latino and looks as though she has not slept,eaten, or bathed in a week. Miguel and I exchange, "What the hell?" looks and I watch her as she walks straight toward the large hideous statue of the Saint of Death and then she stands before it and begins talking quietly to it. Miguel's client finally says her goodbyes and he is free, We both watch the woman. There is something very off about her. Par.12) Santa Muerte is very popular in her native Mexico. She is an unaccepted Saint and is not recognized as such by the Catholic Diocese. They refuse to acknowledge her, and in fact, shun her instead. She is the Patron Saint of criminals, drug dealers, Prostitutes, Gang members and the very poor. Many have been offered as sacrifices to her through the years. La Santisima has received the severed heads of many, as the bodies of them were burned at her feet. She gives me the creeps and mal seems to ooze from the statue. Miguel, however, insists we added her for the Mexican people who live in the City. It is good for business, as they are devoted to the "Queen of Death." Par.13) Miguel and i watch the woman who is still speaking softly to the "lady." Miguel looks at me and shrugs. He raises his hand to the side of his head and twirls his index finger in a lazy circle. Loco en la cabeza, he indicates at the woman. Than says, "Ramon looks good, chica. He treating you right?" He grins and he is handsome indeed. Also very powerful against the wicked forces of bad spirits. Ramon is wise, he is staring up at Miguel and studies the man through slitted blue eyes. Par.14) "Stop talking about him," I say, "You know he hates it." Par.15) "Ah, El Perro is a good look for your guardian, eh?" Miguel says affectionately and reaches down to stroke Ramon's great black head. The big dog accepts it indifferently. Par.16) "Excuse me, por favor," It is the bedraggled woman. Miguel and I stare at her and she is pointing at the macabre statue of Santa Muerte. She asks, "How much for the Lady?" She comes closer to the counter. Par.17) Miguel is about to tell her kindly, that this statue is not for sale, but Ramon stood up quickly, his hackles raised and began to growl low in his throat. Par.18) Chills travel up my spine and I can understand why my guardian has reacted this way. I can see the woman's aura now. It is dark and smoky, filled with mal, a bad spirit. But I tell Ramon to hush. "Lo siento," I apologize hastily and grab the dog by his collar. Par.19) The woman is staring Ramon in the eyes, and it is almost as though she is challenging him. Ramon stands his ground, growling menacingly. He is now showing his teeth. This could turn ugly. Par.20) Miguel says quickly, "She is not for sale, Senora." Par.21) The woman never takes her eyes from Ramon's, but her face has hardened into an ugly smile. She stares at Ramon and says, "Perhaps, you will wish that she was, Curandero. There are things coming that will test your faith,eh?" And then to me, she said, "You need to teach your perro some manners, Espiritista. But, we three know that he is an impostor. Puto!" Then she reared back and spit at my dog! Par.21) Ramon would have jumped the counter there and then had I not been holding fast to his collar. "Get out! Get out of my shop and don't you ever come back here!" I yelled. The woman sneered and the black smoky aura became thicker. She turned on her heel and stormed from the shop. Ramon began barking fiercely . The other customers were staring at us in shock. I did the best that I could to calm the great beast, but when it is more than beast it is difficult. Miguel looked at me and his dark eyes were worried with the knowledge of what had just transpired. Par,22) After calming both the dog and the two elderly customers and sending them on their way with their purchases, I turned the "Out to Lunch" around in the window and locked the door. I turned to Miguel and asked in a still trembling voice, "What the hell was that?" He shrugged and said, "Bruja, well, maybe just a loca witch with a B, eh?" I couldn't help the nervous laughter that cascaded from my throat. I then remembered that I had to check on my abuela, (grandmother), Rosa.
Part 2. Chapter 1. Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters.Par.1) Rosa Estevez has fallen asleep and found herself trapped in a nightmare. She is a well-respected Santera, a priestess of Santeria and she is highly regarded. Latino people from all over the five boroughs come to her for her ability to heal through the power of the santos. (Saints). She is also able to predict the future, although she does not like this gift. Par.2) That is why, this nightmare is so terrible, it is black and very evil. Rosa tries to wake herself, but it is as though strong hands hold her down and others force open spiritual eyelids. Par.3) Outside, the wind blows and the leaves that have fallen are skittering along the cobble-stoned streets clacking like the bones of dead men as Rosa falls deeper into the black. Par.4) The old woman can see herself and she is dressed all in white and on her head, a turban, white as snow. A mal viento (evil wind) is blowing and Rosa feels the chills travel up her spine. At first, all she sees is her dream self, but soon, it's as though the credits begin to roll to a bad horror movie and an unbelievable vista opens to her. Par.5) Shadow beings are her guides as she passes over a body of water as though flying. Then a force surrounded her, something bad. The old woman realized that she had now entered the Lugares Malignos, a place so heavy with evil that she became short of breath and filled with terror. Par.6) The scene changes and Rosa now finds herself walking through an old abandoned building where spirits cry plaintively. They reached out to her, but she ignores them. Something bad waits for her at the end of a long, dark hallway. Par.7) Doors to rooms, long forgotten, stand open. Paint peelings and chips are piled up on the floor and the smell here is dank and moldy from disuse. The shadow beings race along the walls where, for them, there is no escape. They whisper to Rosa as she walks: "Where are your gods, priestess? Who will protect you here?" Rose tries to shut them out, but is powerless. She stays in the center of the endless hallway, careful not to brush the walls. She whispers a prayer, first, to Olorum, creator of all things, then crosses herself and believes strongly that the blessed Christos will watch over her. Par.8) The shadows laugh and it is though madness has taken them over. High pitched cackling echos in the hallway > Rosa can now see the end of the passageway and it is lit with a thousand candles. Par.9) She wants to turn and run, but she is held fast by the relentless force in her traverse through the evil place. When she reaches the end, her eyes widen in horror. Par.10) A woman stands with her back to the doorway of a large room. There are windows, but no glass. It lays sparkling in a millions pieces on the floor. Trees have sent their branches through empty window fr
Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Chap.1 The Beginning, 2017Par.1) St. Michael's Cemetery in Astoria, Queens is one of the oldest in all of New York City. In the graveyard, there is a hill that faces East and the tombstones located there are ancient and crumbling. Here it is dense with trees and they are whispering to one another as an autumn wind rustles their branches and dying leaves. Par.2) A shadowy figure stands outside the rusting wrought-iron gates and listens closely for the voices of the dead. The Guardian of the burial ground watches lazily from his sentinel post. It knows that if the living enter here, they must pay a price. The Guardian awaits eager to offer his outstretched hand. Par.3) The living being takes in the weathered headstones as the sun slides ever downward. She is ever mindful of the trees as the wind builds and restless spirits roam the grounds. There is a new kid in town, they hiss. She is there, they point. Par.4) The figure, dresses all in black has come prepared for what must be done. In a small leather satchel there are 9 coins, an empty "spirit bottle", a small trowel, a small bottle of Florida Water, protection amulets and crystals. The latter kept in a small leather drawstring pouch. Last, but not least, a set of old skeleton keys gotten with a bribe from the caretaker, who hides behind tightly shuttered windows. he has a friend to keep him company and Jack Daniels is his name. El Cuco is no where around. She cannot take any chances tonight and end up in a jail cell. She has already given her money to the caretaker for this late night excursion into the practice of the dark arts. Par.5) The Guardian rouses itself and becomes ever more alert and forms an opening, a path to the dead as the figure pulls out the familiar ring of keys to his home, Without preamble the figure inserts the correct one into the keyhole in the old wrought-iron gate. The Guardian smiles in its ghastly fashion as the living person enters quickly, the high winds masking the squeaking of the gate. If not for the Guardian's destiny as sentinel, it would be more than happy to draw the life force, the energy from this being. But it can only except payment for entrance here. It knows that is the way of things. Par.6) The figure carefully pushed the heavy gate closed and replaced the key ring into the satchel. Then the nine coins were withdrawn. The wind is blowing harder now and the whispers become moans as the trees are bent this way and that at the wind's urgings. Dark clouds scuttle across the now visible Moon and the sun disappears into the horizon. Multicolored autumn leaves fall to cover the graves of the restless dead. A storm menaces and threatens as it comes from the east as lightning flashes in the distance. Par.7) The figure then takes three of the coins and mentally makes a connection with the Guardian by giving an introduction. She thinks she hears him rumble his approval in the form of the distant thunder beyond the steep hill. She then, turned around to face the gate with her back to the cemetery and knocked three times on the bars of the entrance. The Guardian is very pleased. The figure then states the reasons for her visit here while the Guardian nods and allows for her to enter. Par.8) Dropping the three selected coins, the figure crosses the threshhold, walking backwards, a sure sign that the reasons she is here is for something sinister and dark. Lightning flashes closer now which causes her to speed up the proceedings. There must be little to no record of her having been there or what she is about to do. Having acknowledged, honored, and paid all dues to the Guardian she proceeds to the next step. Par.9) Removing the amulet form the satchel, the figure then set the bag down to fasten the chain around her neck. She has rubbed cascarillo into her skin to protect her from the evil spirits here. They creep and hide among the trees and she does not want them to steal the warmth and energy from her living flesh. The figure has also tied a red string around her waist also anointed with oil. Par.10) She then utters a silent prayer to Santa Muerte, the Mexican goddess of death for protection, even though she is Brazilian by birth. This goddess does not discriminate, and besides it was she that had visited that night, in dreams of death and horrible visions. The woman was just merely following the instructions given with the stench of death, in the horrible rasping voice of the "Lady". Par.11) Climbing the steep hill that faces the east, the woman knows right where to go. The storm is much closer now and further up the hill a screaming tree offers up a branch to Oya, goddess of storms and cemeteries as it snaps loudly and falls to lay on the beleaguered headstones. Grateful for the covering sounds of wind and it's destruction and the the whistling vegetation, she then stops. Par.12) Walking to the right, she finds what she has come visit. A fresh mound of a recent burial, She kneels on the grave itself and knocks three times on the mound. Then she whispered the purpose of her visit here. She removed the empty spirit bottle and the trowel from the satchel and set the bag aside. She slowly and methodically uncapped the bottle and then began scooping small amounts of the grave dirt into the bottle. After this was accomplished and the bottle was full, she recapped it and replaced both the bottle and the trowel back into the satchel. Three more coins were snatched up and with a trembling hand pulled from the satchel and placed into the hole where the dirt had been dug out. She then covered the coins with the excess dirt as fat raindrops began to fall. Grabbing fallen leaves , she raked them hastily over the evidence of her digging. Par.13) Then out came the Florida Water offered to the spirit of the murder victim. She imagined that she could hear the other woman's voice crying up out of the ground. "I didn't want to die. Why did I have to die like that?" The woman heard the pleas and tears fell to to the grave where they joined with the raindrops. Par.14) The woman then stood and said another prayer, this time to the Son of God to protect the soul of the deceased. Unbeknownst to the thief of the graveyard dirt, the attention of spirits much less benign had been awakened. Nonetheless, the woman stood, took off the long thin jacket of black and turned it inside out and then slipped it back on. Par.15) Leaving the grave and walking back to the path and then down the hill, the rain began to fall in earnest as the wind tormented the trees . Soon she was soaked. She reached the Guardians post, although she couldn't see him and dropped the three remaining coins. Saying a last thank you to the Guardian, she slipped back out the gate and locking it tight, she disappeared into the rainy night. Part 2 of Chapter one tomorrow.
A Story By Me Lisa V. Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters ProloguePrologue: Par.1) Tieta Madeira had locked herself into her small, one bedroom apartment in the Red hook houses. She was grieving and could not bear to talk to anyone. She had lost one of her charges to the senseless violence of domestic abuse. Tieta had had enough. Her thoughts were of Dominique. Par.2) Tieta had helped to found a non-profit abuse center known as "The Seven Sisters" and had helped many victims of domestic abuse to escape their husbands and boyfriends and to stand on their own. Many of them had worked through the fear and the damage done to become strong and self-reliant. The shelter mostly catered to women of Hispanic descent, although all women were welcome regardless of race or status. Dominique had been one such woman. She had come to the shelter after being helped by her wealthy family back in Brazil. They had spirited her away under the cloak of secrecy to New York City where an aunt had met her at the Port authority Bus Station. And it was not a moment too soon. Her husband had almost killed her, not once, but three times in their five year union. The Seven Sisters had taken Dominique in. At the behest of the girl's terrified aunt. Par.3) Tieta herself had fled from Ricardo, her husband of eight years. He had beaten her so bad that she had remained in a coma for two months, This is why the center had meant so much. This was why she had worked so hard to make it the success it had become. Tieta had lived in constant fear, but by some miracle, Ricardo's drinking and violence had caught up with him. One night, after Tieta had left him and was hiding at her mother's tiny house, Ricardo had been killed in a fiery car crash as the rain came down in torrents. He had been drunk and angry and out for his puta's blood. He had slid off the road and over a cliff, where his pick up truck had fallen several hundred yards straight down onto sharp rockfaces and burst into flame as it came to a crashing stop at the bottom of a ravine. Tieta had thanked her guardian angel that night. he had been coming to kill her. It was soon after that "The Seven Sisters" was born. Par.4) This night Tieta had cried until there were no more tears left to cry. The newspaper was crumpled at her feet and stained with coffee and tears. She was hollow-eyed with shock as she glanced down at the headline still plainly in view: "Woman's Severed head Found In Sheepshead Bay." Above the article a photo of Dominique, beautiful, smiling and free, It was all too much. Dominique had made great strides in her more than five months at the Center. She had gone from a quivering and very terrified young wife and victim, to a strong and confident young woman. Tieta shook her head in hopelessness and disbelief. How could this have happened? How had he been able to track her down? Par.5) The phone rang again and it sounded disembodied and corporeal like the sound was coming from a bottomless well. But Tieta did not answer it. Grief and shock had swallowed her whole. She had hardly eaten a thing since she had first found out about Dominique's murder. She could not. To face the women at the shelter who depended on her was unthinkable. Her partner and co-founder of the Seven Sisters would have to go it alone now. Tieta had failed when all she had wanted was to help, to be a positive influence and save. But she had failed and miserably. Par.6) On the fourth morning of her forced solitude, madness had made its way into the tortured woman's mind. After what seemed like a thousand calls and several knocks on her apartment door, Tieta opened her puffy eyes. The look in them were those of a trapped wild beast, some would say, the eyes of one insane. Par.7) Sometime later, after the sun had gone down, Tieta stood upright and her eyes were wide. Something terrible had entered into her home. Something dark. Someone had been listening to her prayers for revenge. Then a voice so terrible that it caused Tieta to begin shaking began speaking to her. " I have heard your supplications. I will help you achieve that which you seek." The voice was like the rasping of death rattles and the howls of wolves as they called to the full moon. Tieta shook and trembled on the floor. The rustling of fabric whispered into her ears as the helper walked by and the smell of death accompanied her. The clacking of dried bones clicked and clacked to the other side of the dark room. Tieta was too terrified to open her eyes that were clenched shut. She did not want to see who had answered her pleas. "Your requests will be granted. There will be blood in the streets of your great city. Many men will die here. Retribution will be yours, Ni'na." The odor of death was stronger now and Tieta could sense that the thing had come back towards her. It was then that Tieta fainted dead away as taxis honked in the night and a siren began to ululate somewhere over the Brooklyn Bridge. To Be Continued.
Love You Rob!!!!!
1-17 of 17 Blogs Previous Posts  Bring Me To Life Evanescence, posted April 28th, 2012 Part2. Chap. 3 Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters, posted April 9th, 2012 Part 1, Chap. 3 Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters, posted April 9th, 2012 5 Pointz: Set to be Bulldozed, DAMN IT!!!, posted March 16th, 2012 New York City Subway Musicians. This is awesome!, posted February 26th, 2012 Snow in Brooklyn, posted February 26th, 2012, 2 comments Cont. New York City Underground, posted February 25th, 2012 Subways, posted February 25th, 2012 Ghosts In The Snow A new horror story by Lisa Vetrone, posted February 20th, 2012 I HATE Animal Abuse, posted February 17th, 2012 I HATE Animal Abuse, posted February 17th, 2012 Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Part2, Chapter 2. Ill Will, posted January 4th, 2012 Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Part 1. Chapter 2: Warnings, posted January 4th, 2012 Part 2. Chapter 1. Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters., posted January 4th, 2012, 3 comments Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Chap.1 The Beginning, 2017, posted January 3rd, 2012, 4 comments A Story By Me Lisa V. Dead Hook: The Seven Sisters Prologue, posted January 3rd, 2012 Love You Rob!!!!!, posted December 18th, 2011Blogroll Here are some friends' blogs...
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