The Legend of
Count Gnawlins
by
Patricia McQueary
Count Gnawlins
by
Patricia McQueary
CONTEST
e-mail your comments,
please reference the title of
the article in your e-mail.
please reference the title of
the article in your e-mail.
Read comments on The Vault
Seeking refuge from persecution in Europe, the notorious vampire count St. Germaine flees to
the New World and the city of New Orleans. The picturesque streets and quaint buildings of
the French Quarter seemed to welcome him and he felt at ease in the cosmopolitan city.
St. Germaine's wealth and charm soon brought him into the charmed circle of upper class
Creole society. He entertained often from his lavishly furnished home. Invitations to the
Count's dinner parties and elaborate balls were sought after prizes for the elite of New Orleans.
For a while the novelty of starting over in a new country kept the driving force of his primitive
need in check.
As the newness began to pale, the Count once more became aware of the hunger that lurked
just beneath the surface of his soul. At last he could no longer deny that which he was. The
next full moon found him restlessly prowling the streets of the Vieux Carre in search of victims
to sooth his blood lust. Servants traveling home alone after dark prostitutes plying their wares
from darkened doorways, these were easy prey for the ancient vampire. Each new sunrise
found another victim as they lay drained of their life's blood.
Panic ensured and the citizens demanded protection from this nameless predator, this phantom,
this vampire! Not even the bravest females dared to venture out alone after darkness fell.
Desperate for the blood he craved, St. Germaine stalked the abandoned streets in search of new
victims. Just as the first blush of dawn touched the banks of the swirling Mississippi River, he
spotted a lone female as she hurried about her business. Reaching out from the shadows, he
grabbed the young girl and sinking his fangs into her neck he drank until his needs were met.
It was not until the beautiful young quadroon lay lifeless on the bricks, he noticed the many
voodoo symbols she wore like a talisman. Too late he recognized the daughter of the great
Voodoo priestess, Marie Laveau.
As though summoned by the very spirit of the girl, Marie appeared. Her anger and pain seemed
to become a living thing as her wild eyes held the Count prisoner. Calling down the wrath of
her ancestors, Marie cursed the vampire. "I condemn you to a body as monstrous as your
soul, to dwell among those whose life force runs as cold as your heart and to forever crave but
never again to know the exquisite warmth of human blood!" From deep within the mysterious
swamp there came a most fearful roar, two red eyes slowly opened and the legend of Count
Gnawlins was born.
(441 words)
the New World and the city of New Orleans. The picturesque streets and quaint buildings of
the French Quarter seemed to welcome him and he felt at ease in the cosmopolitan city.
St. Germaine's wealth and charm soon brought him into the charmed circle of upper class
Creole society. He entertained often from his lavishly furnished home. Invitations to the
Count's dinner parties and elaborate balls were sought after prizes for the elite of New Orleans.
For a while the novelty of starting over in a new country kept the driving force of his primitive
need in check.
As the newness began to pale, the Count once more became aware of the hunger that lurked
just beneath the surface of his soul. At last he could no longer deny that which he was. The
next full moon found him restlessly prowling the streets of the Vieux Carre in search of victims
to sooth his blood lust. Servants traveling home alone after dark prostitutes plying their wares
from darkened doorways, these were easy prey for the ancient vampire. Each new sunrise
found another victim as they lay drained of their life's blood.
Panic ensured and the citizens demanded protection from this nameless predator, this phantom,
this vampire! Not even the bravest females dared to venture out alone after darkness fell.
Desperate for the blood he craved, St. Germaine stalked the abandoned streets in search of new
victims. Just as the first blush of dawn touched the banks of the swirling Mississippi River, he
spotted a lone female as she hurried about her business. Reaching out from the shadows, he
grabbed the young girl and sinking his fangs into her neck he drank until his needs were met.
It was not until the beautiful young quadroon lay lifeless on the bricks, he noticed the many
voodoo symbols she wore like a talisman. Too late he recognized the daughter of the great
Voodoo priestess, Marie Laveau.
As though summoned by the very spirit of the girl, Marie appeared. Her anger and pain seemed
to become a living thing as her wild eyes held the Count prisoner. Calling down the wrath of
her ancestors, Marie cursed the vampire. "I condemn you to a body as monstrous as your
soul, to dwell among those whose life force runs as cold as your heart and to forever crave but
never again to know the exquisite warmth of human blood!" From deep within the mysterious
swamp there came a most fearful roar, two red eyes slowly opened and the legend of Count
Gnawlins was born.
(441 words)