Mrs. Thornwit put her eyes forward and kept them forward; she could ill afford to let them fall upon little Bethany, whose moist and plump hand she clutched firmly in her own.  She kept a brisk pace - at times almost dragging the girl.  Beth giggled and chattered merrily away to an unseen companion and several small animals on the path.

“Mama, dress!  Mama, dress dirty!” she squealed and pointed to the border of her walking skirt and to that of her mother’s.  They were near the swamp now, the mud and decaying mulch kicked up into rough smears on the light woolen panels.  “Mama, DRESS!”

“It’s all right, Bethany; it’s all right” Alice said, squeezing her eyes shut for but a second against her perspiration and tears.  “It will be all right.”  “Mama …. dress!” Bethany cooed in a gleeful half-whisper, as if they were co-conspirators in a summer picnic game.  They were near the edge of the water and dusk had turned to night.

They stopped and Beth followed her mother’s gaze out into the water, where a dark shape was rising from the murk.  Loosely the shape of a man but twice the size, it oozed across the stagnant surface towards them.  When it stopped, towering over them, Alice thought she could see two darker pits that might be its eyes.  She bowed her head quickly.

“S-say hello to the swamp man, Bethany” she said tensely, before her voice caught in her throat.  Gazing up - shy but curious,  Beth gave the thing a tiny smile and said sweetly “Hello, man.”

Alice Thornwit stumbled back to the main road alone, struggling to retain her composure.  She clutched a lock of brown hair in her right hand, holding it away from her filthy skirt to keep it clean and safe.  She would burn the clothes, immediately after she told Willem.  And, if the harvest did not come in as he promised, she would kill him in his sleep.

The cook pressed Mrs. Undercrypt gently about the guest list with a soft question: “Madam, who shall we have at All Hallows this year?” Gazing out of  the window into the pressing dark, the lady of the house distractedly replied “I have no idea, really.  Someone plump and delicious.”  The cook waited for dry, teasing laughter that never came.

Gothic bellydancer extraordinaire Tempest and internationally acclaimed  musician Tim Rayborn bring The Durga Tour to Minneapolis for an evening of opulent and mysterious delights.  Blood & Steam is a glimpse into a dark and breathtaking future through the eyes of the past.

• Thursday, June 4th, 2009
• Intermedia Arts - 2822 Lyndale Ave So in Minneapolis
• Doors open at 7pm; the show begins at 7:30pm
• Tickets are $15.00 at the door

From a notice tacked to the door of the post office in Hallowyck:

“… you’re sure to lose your mind over The Straitjacket Sisters - those asylum angels - new to our sinful circus this very year!”

From the diary of Herrick Grimmer, Head Butler to the Redde-Chapel sisters:

I will ever defend the right of the Sisters to go as they will and do as they please, although some would fault me for not enforcing the presence of the chaperone.  These widows are world travelers and more intrepid in their everyday habits than any man at the very height of his courage.  It is as if they have no fear of any environment - nor of any creature on God’s green earth.

So it was that I was not alarmed when Mrs. Dreadpenny failed to attend evening tea at sunset on the 3rd … and did not attend upon any sunset thereafter.  I cannot deny that I found it strange she had left without packing her clothing and toiletries, but these are women of wealth and privilege and it is not for them to lug common items hither and yon.  Surely, new items can be purchased anywhere.

But there was a certain aspect of melancholy in the house - a sense of loss and loneliness that emanated from Mrs. Undercrypt in unguarded moments.  I did attempt to broach the subject gently, but was stopped from a deeper inquiry by the touch of her cool, dry hand upon mine.  She only smiled tenderly, sadly … and instructed me to tell the staff not to go into the woods after dark - not even to draw water from the well.  Additionally, I was to post signs around the perimeter of all her forest lands that no hunting was allowed and trespassers would be dealt with most harshly.

I am comforted in my duties, for I know these cautions are reasonable and protective - Madam thinks of us with regard even as more weighty matters demand her attention.  And I know at once that she, too, has heard the howling in the deep woods and can sense danger.

From scraps of paper found in the room of Mrs. Philip (Temperance) Castmarble, St. Armengard’s Respite House:

” … they pity me here, sympathetic whisperings that I have no visitors … I ask you, can a person easily lend themselves to the care of those so utterly daft? … ridiculous … Mrs. Undercrypt has come regularly …”

“I cannot help the tears as they tumble … she comforts me … sits next to me at the window and takes my hand in hers … ‘You must try to forget’ she entreats me softly and soothes my brow … I am nervous meeting her gaze, but her grip upon my hand is firm … so firm …”

“… proof of my madness … her eyes glowing like embers, so terrifying and yet warm … safe … voice is low and her words relax me … cannot recall how I came to lie in my bed with tossed sheets like a child … daybreak … upon my pillow, a drop of blood … upon my nightgown, two more … ”

“I am the most unfortunate of women, but I am not without my friends.”

Here ends Part the Second of Two, if it please the Examiner

From scraps of paper found in the room of Mrs. Philip (Temperance) Castmarble, St. Armengard’s Respite House:

” … the full moon’s light streaming in through the painted glass … Mrs. Dreadpenny at the harpsichord, so pale but sternly focused … fingers flying from the keys like birds fleeing their cages … am spellbound … she, only a beginner, but sounds so powerful and rich in their melancholy filled the parlor without effort and without end … it could not be!”

“The servants moved quickly from the back of the house to the upper rooms with purpose but not running … remember thinking they cannot be cleaning at this hour of night … horrible, heart-breaking music resonating in the chamber and I cried out “This will put me in the ground!” … silence … Her beautiful, haunting face before mine whispering “… not to bury, but to unearth, madam” … a creak at the back door …”

“Something dragging itself through the hunt door, breathing heavily and unevenly … my arms a mass of gooseflesh … no one uses that door save the master of the house home from gaming … the master of this house is long since vanished … the light relentless upon her as she sits motionless against the instrument with her eyes locked on the darkness in the hallway … what happens next … I am feverish … “Arabella”, says the voice … “Arabella, my love” … it is a rich baritone, scratched and gutteral with lack of use … a voice from a throat filled with dirt …”

Here ends Part the First.

Please join us at Patrick’s Cabaret on Friday evening, July 18th, 2008, for the next installment of our Raqs NOX (”night dances”) series:  “Raqs NOX: B Movie”!

A hair-raising, gravity-defying, madcap dance variety show that plunges you into the dark and twisted world of classic movies, cult films, and unforgettable television.  This is yesteryear a-go-go and in Panavision!  You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll shamelessly sing along - and then throw caution to the wind for an hour of open dance following the performances.

Tickets are $10 per person at the door
Show starts at 7pm
Open dance from 9-10pm

This show is rated DC/HK (Drive-in Chic + High Kitsch) and is open to all ages.

Join us at Patrick’s Cabaret in Minneapolis for an evening of gothic bellydance and other performances - mixing the savage and the sweet. Flying in the face of candy hearts and flowers, treat yourself to something equally delicious, but darker and decidedly more dangerous.

Saturday, February 9th, at 8:00pm; $8 at the door/$5 for zombies.

This promises to be an evening you’ll want to come back from the dead (of winter) for.

Men found Arabella irresistible; she drew them to her in breathless swarms. As it only takes one suitor to win a heart, however, many others broke theirs trying to draw her attention and gain her favor. Sir Devian Adderbrooke once remarked that Arabella “had a graveyard for a heart”. We laughed and laughed - and giggle still, from time to time.