The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

“You what!” The other man blustered, as Bertram walked onto the stage and, the curtains began to rise…



Chapter Ten – It’s all there, in Black ‘n White



Laura Mae watched from the wings, aware that she was hardly part of the act any longer. She did not need to feed Bertram, nor distract the audience, as he sought an answer: ‘No,’ she mused, ‘I’m not needed now, but I will be… he’ll need me.”



Much as she wanted to be right, as she watched him work the audience, she realized that what she wanted and what was, might not be compatible.



Bertram seemed to be in his element and the crowd loved him… even when they were frightened by the display he put on – it was all so incredible…



“Yessir,” he told a balding fellow sitting next to a pretty young woman, with a bow and a sweep of his right arm, “your daughter will meet a fine fellow…”



“Unlike the young woman sitting next to you… your secretary…” he added, much to the fellow’s chagrin.



And, as his cheeks reddened and he blustered out his response, his words were lost in the ribald laughter of the audience… again, it’d been a packed house.



Laura Mae found it hard to credit the confident fellow on the stage, with the little fellow she had been able to manage all these months. But now, she wondered…



Then as the act progressed and his headache diminished, Bertram found the same clarity of thought he’d had moments before his last prediction and, passing out.



He stared into the footlights, to eradicate the sea of faces before him, with their incandescent yellowish light



And, knowing what to expect this time, Bertram held onto his consciousness… He still fell to his knees though…



But this time he was able to hold onto his sense of self and, accept what would happen next…



His headache faded and, Bertram heard the sounds of moving mechanical parts, above the noise of the assembled crowd before him.



The sounds were followed by images --- rolling presses, printing out articles that would shock those before him.



Bertram saw the headlines, feeling the emotion of those who read them; feeling their revulsion and horror, at what they had read.



With wide-eyes, he felt the emotion of those who read the articles – feeling the same bitter taste in his own mouth.



Then, Bertram tore his gaze from the footlights and he turned his head to the left, to look at the audience, with a fixed steely glare.



Moments later he slowly tuned his head from left to right, then back to the middle, with the same fixed steely look to his face, as he did so.



Still staring straight ahead, he spoke slowly and, made his second prediction:

“Although the facts will not attest to what finds print – a star of the silver screen will be accused of rape…”



He suddenly paled, his eyes closed and Bertram crumpled to the stage, in the manner of a puppets having its strings cut…



The curtain fell, with him on the wrong side and, as the audience erupted into a minor riot, the manager sent two stagehands to bring him off…



“And, be careful with ‘im,” he instructed, “That fella’s gonna help me rake it in!”