Alucard

1

         There’s just no way I can figure where our movie and television industries are coming from. But without hesitation I’ll tell ya’ where I believe they’re going…out of business!

         They pride themselves as “entertainment mediums,” but show-biz today sure ain’t livin’ up to that billing. This trash they’re grinding out today is anything but entertainment. I mean really now, what we’re seeing is the product of  New York and Hollywood sickos.

         This junky stuff has been forced on the movie-going public for 31 years.  You may wonder how I came up with that odd-sounding number. Well now, it was 1955 when “Shane” rode our way, and that western classic was the last good cinema production by any company.

         Everyone connected with the industry, from Board-Chairman to broom-totin’ janitors are attending too many parties…that’s the problem! You know the kind, “snow parties.” The star of these shindigs is a powdery white substance that looks very much like Goody’s headache remedy.

         Brains have become sick and addled…suffered irreparable damage. Proof of this is in the package seen right up there on the silver-screen for all the world to see (screeching tires and revved-up engines. Plots that give us only highway chase scenes and never-ending demolition derbys. Ugghh! Listen podnuh, it takes vivid imaginations to come up with 31 years of that tripe ).

         But Hollywood wasn’t always hampered thusly. Once upon a time, believe it or not, the movie industry enjoyed it'’ heydey and experienced it’s own “golden era.”

         Searchlights traversed Southern California skies. Gorgeous movie stars rode to glittering world-premiers in chauffeur-driven limousines. Doormen scampered to open rear doors. The stunning actress stepped down gingerly onto a red carpet, a wrap-around fur draped over her creamy shoulders. With one hand she held 4 poodles on a leash, in the other was nestled the top 7 favorites of her 35 cats. Now Mister, those were movie stars!!

         That era was, of course, the 1930’s and 40’s. Those were the years when truly great “movin’ pitchers” were made. Humphrey  Bogart, James Cagney, Jean Harlow, Betty Grable…all gone. As of this moment suitable replacements haven’t come along ( a suitable replacement for The Three Stooges will never ever come along ).

         However, there was another Hollywood great of that day and age. Mostly forgotten, he should be ranked right up there with the legendary stars.

         His name was Lon Chaney Jr., and this is the story of a movie he once starred in. It was 1943 when this classic thriller appeared in theaters all over the country.

         Slightly before the atomic-age was ushered in, considerably before computers and Ivy-League Whiz-Kids began tinkering with everything on God’s green earth and getting it all outta’ whack.

         Which explains why this Lon Chaney Jr. movie, filmed in a long-ago past, knew great success…

2

         Men were fightin’ like cats and dogs in 1943. Around the globe folks had “choosed up” sides, were killing each other by the millions, having themselves a real donnybrook and, in a word, were enjoying their lives to the fullest.

         A lotta’ real-estate was torn up, 45 million died. A damned good illustration of how smart the human race is. Places like Guadacanal, Midway, Stalingrad and El Alamein  were making headlines. On the homefront “Rosie the Riveter” was urging on the civilian work-force to even greater production.

         Hollywood did it’s part by churning out hundreds of war movies, each stirring up the patriotic fervor. Spy thrillers too…it seemed our country had

Been infiltrated by millions of Nazi saboteurs.

         Americans were depicted as Supermen! Why hells bells, John Wayne could rout 3 enemy divisions without suffering a scratch! But then, he had a tremendous advantage. German and Japanese soldiers had to reload their weapons. The “Duke” didn’t…his smokin’ guns never ran outta’ ammo!

         Not all movies of those days had a war theme. Universal Studios gave us many to divert our attention from all the gore and upheaval occurring around the world. And pal, Universal could entertain like no one else. All the great horror flicks in Hollywood history were made by these people ( the management at Universal must be doin’ somethin’ right. They’ve been around more than 50 years and still going strong ).

         This studio offered the movie-going public a dandy in 1943 ( here we’ll play a little game for the purpose of testing your memory. The title of that “blockbuster” won’t be made known until the final chapter of this, this…whatever you may wish to call it ).

         A great plot that movie had, geared to keep one on the edge of his seat, well calculated to hold movie-buffs in suspense. The location scenery (graveyards, foggy swamps, dilapidated houses )  made flesh crawl, caused hair to stand on end.

         That masterful cinema production had Lon Chaney Jr. in the lead role, with an all-star supporting cast headed by Robert Paige, Louise Albritton, Evelyn Ankers and Frank Craven. Miss Ankers, a green-eyed blond, was most pleasant to look at.

         Evelyn had more narrow escapes and close brushes with death ( the most horrible kind imaginable ) in her movies than Old Man Carter had little liver pills. Miss Ankers lived with constant peril hanging over her head, a fair damsel in eternal distress.

         Dialogue is important to a movie. The spoken words in this one made for some of the most memorable lines ever put on a soundtrack ( Lon, smitten with Evelyn’s beautiful features, gazes into her green eyes to say: “Come spend eternity with me.” Miss Anker’s thinks that is not a good idea and replies: “Don’t believe I’d like that.” ) As you can later determine, a wise choice on her part.

         Lon played his role with flair and great enthusiasm. He was cast as Count Alucard (pronounced AL- YOU- CARD ), a member of European Royalty.

         Take my word for it. Alucard was a blueblood unlike any you’ve ever heard about. And I seriously doubt you’d want to meet him…

3

         It was a cold wintry night in 1943. A lad of 13 was seated in Mr. Jack Reel’s theater in downtown Narrows, watching as one of the scariest movies ever filmed flashed across the big screen.

Let’s clarify a mite…mostly he watched. More than a few times, however, I sat with head in lap, eyes closed tightly when Count Alucard, protrayed brilliantly by Chaney, really got into doing his THING.

         Some sights in life are just too horrible for human eyes to behold. I

 had a 2 mile walk to my home after that movie ended…alone! And Lon Chaney Jr. had an uncanny knack for causing the night to become filled with “high strangeness.”

         Count Alucard reached our shores sometime during the latter part of the nineteenth century. He arrived here from the deep forests of Transylvania, a Balkan geography that’s now a part of Rumania ( for many moons weird tales have been told about those woodlands. It seems that an “un-naturalness”, an air filled with dread and menace have always been a part of the environs there ). If ever I can afford a tour of the continent, I’m gonna’ skip Transylvania and all it offers.

         The good Count was just one of millions of immigrants who sailed into New York, but he didn’t tarry there long. Being accustomed to wide-open spaces in the Old Country, the Big Apple wasn’t to his liking. Alucard high-tailed it south intothe heart of Dixie, finally settling down in a dilapidated house on the edge of a Georgia swamp.

         It wasn’t clear, at least in the beginning, just why that scallowag would leave his castle with it’s full complement of servants to take up residence in a framehouse near a boggy, mosquito-infested morass. I’m no expert in real-estate values, but the wisdom of such a swap seemed questionable…plum eluded me ( has the reader noted anything unusual about the single-word title of this story? What…you haven’t?! Let me tell ya’ friend, there’s something extraordinarily unusual therein! ).

         The mystery about the move from Transylvania  to Georgia was solved in due time. Though Alucard was well-schooled in tact and manners, movie-goers soon realized many of his habits were less than desirable. Downright repugnant, that’s what they were!

         This was especially true of his ravenous appetite. I’m telling ya,’the Count’s meal selection was peculiar, and that’s stating it mildly. His food preference wouldn’t be recommended by a modern-day dietician, of that I’m quite certain.

         Looks can often belie the reality of a situation; things are seldom what they seem. Many times one can scratch away a glossy surface and be totally surprised at what he finds beneath.

         That scamp from Transylvania was an imposing figure, the “spittin’ image” of health. He looked youthful, walked with a springy bounce, seemed full of vim and vigor.

         However, firsthand observations are many times deceiving. You see, Count Alucard was more than 700 years old!!…

4

         The immigrant from Transylvania was mystifying, very much a paradox. A forlorn figure, he rarely if ever smiled (and for a very good reason, as will soon become apparent ).But at the same time he was a swashbuckler who could, with a measure of ease, cut a wide swath thru the womenfolk.

         If there was a flaw in Alucard’s personal appearance it was the hair. Black and shiny, his hair had that “plastered down” look. No doubt about it, the Count used way yonder too much of that greasy kid stuff.

         But alas, at that point in our history so did every other male. That messy stuff was very much a fashionable vogue in 1943. My preference…half a bottle of brilliantine mixed with 8 ounces of that gooey stuff made for crew-cuts. Damned oily mess, but one didn’t hafta’ worry about the wind creating a brushpile up there on top.

         Alucard was immensely proud of the power he held over the fair sex. The ladies took one look at this tall one wearing a black cape, swooned and fell at his feet in a trance-like state. It was essential he never lose that strange hypnotic force…it provided the means for his livelehood!

         Those damsels had no way of knowing (until too late ) but that weakness would prove detrimental to their health and well-being. They should’ve been lavishing more attention on the drab boy next door.

         About three minutes into that movie it became crystal clear why that rascal had emigrated to the New World. He hadn’t been hitting it off with the neighbors back there in Transylvania. As a matter of fact, Alucard had been the instigator of neighborhood altercations for seven long centuries!

         A descendant from the finest of bloodlines, that scoundrel was guilty of despicable deeds against innocent people who lived nearby. Dastardly, despicable acts they were, with the Count being always at someone’s throat

( a statement meant quite literally. Even the most inept detective among the readers shouldn’t miss the meaning of this glaring clue, for it affords a clear picture of Alucard’s true nature ).

         Yeah, it was extremely difficult for folks living on his block to accept the lifestyle of this weird recluse who was never seen during the hours of daylight.

         Alucard’s  insatiable appetite caused lots of sorrow, many a woe. But then, just as Transylvanians were losing all hope, one among them did a bit of experimenting  and made a truly remarkable discovery. He was a scientist, and promptly announced his “finding” to a grateful Balkan people.

         Mighty welcome news, and those peace-loving citizens could rfinally breathe a sigh of relief. It had been a long ( 700 years ) uphill struggle, but for them the tide of battle was now turning in a favorable direction.

         You see, that “finding” ranks second in importance to the discovery of the wheel. And it caused a curious relic to become a part of every Transylvania household…

5

The wheel. No doubt about it, the single most beneficial discovery in all of human history. Rounded objects are just a helluva’ lot easier to move than cumbersome blocks and other irregular shaped gadgets. Can you imagine the bumpy ride that would result from motoring down the highway on square tires?

But then along came another invention which native Transylvanians rank a mighty close second to circular objects. When one considers the trying ordeals those Balkan folks endured for a prolonged period of time…well, such reasoning isn’t too surprising.

During the latter part of the nineteenth century that scamp Alucard was making a complete nuisance of himself way off over yonder in Eastern Europe. The sonofagun created constant turmoil, caused many problems …forever more disturbing the peace in otherwise serene  surroundings.                                                                                                     

The noble Count was guilty of heinous crimes against humanity, commited acts of depravity that a normal person, even in the wildest nightmares, would  never dream of.

Each and every night he sneaked away from his castle to “go out on the town.” Actually, the scoundrel preferred meandering about thru the woodlands, and woe be unto the unlucky hiker who happened along.

One day a group of young Balkan scientists were whiling away some leisure hours in that same forest (no one dared go there alone ). Conversation centered on the strange events that had been badgering their neighborhood. Far too many of their friends were being “bumped off” for no apparent reason. Furthermore , a whole raft of “missing persons” reports were on the local Constable’s desk. Unfortunately those poor souls were never again seen or heard from.

         Le4t’s listen in on the discussion as those scientists sit on tree stumps in a woodland clearing. One of them (our hero Von Helsig , played by Frank Craven ) is saying to his compatriots: “We need a more adequate defense against the Count. I’m headin’ into yonder lab and see what I can come up with. And away he went.

         Five minutes later he returned, holding a sharply pointed slat of wood in his hand.

         His colleagues were a curious lot and one of the nuts asked: “What’s that?”

         “This here,” said Von Helsig to his buddy, “is my latest startling discovery. It’s called a wooden stake, just what’s needed to rid our world of Alucard and his kind ( the reader who hasn’t yet figured where this story is headed will never, but never, make a Sherlock Holmes ).

         Quite naturally the Count learned of this, and realized his forays against innocent victims wouldn’t be nearly so easy now. The jig was maybe up… his playhouse was now threatened.

         Booking passage on the next boat sailing for New York, he vamoosed outta’ the Old Country. And that’s why all hell was bustin’loose in those foggy Georgia swamps just 400 miles to the south of us…

6

         It was the final quarter of a turbulent nineteenth-century and pioneering America was having major problems. Brother had just finished fighting brother ( mostly in Virginia ), but troubles didn’t cease when Lee surrendered to Grant at Appomattox. Not by a longshot.

         Now the Plains Indians were all stirred up, mad as a nest of hornets. But let’s be perfectly clear here…those tribes weren’t to blame for the rising animosity between paleface and Redskins.

         The Injuns had lived a peaceful existence out there among the buffalo for thousands of years, and now white men were ransacking their teepees and chasin’ ‘em off sacred hunting grounds. The Chief was left with absolutely no choice…he sponsored huge war-dance, picked up heap big tomahawk, and promptly went into the barbering business…scalps!!

         Meanwhile that doggone Alucard “setting up shop” way down yonder in the Peach State. Be assured it was no mere coincidence that a flood of mayhem and blood-letting began immediately.

         In just a short while a deluge of news bulletins coming outta’ Georgia made those fights out on the western prairies pale to insignificance, made ‘em seem like a minor irritation.

         Georgians, mostly beautiful southern Belles, were dropping like swatted flies. Medical experts couldn’t determine a logical cause for the mysterious epidemic ( no fault of the American Medical Association training courses. The books at med-school didn’t cover what was happening ).

         Each morning cadavers were found strewn all over the landscape. Swamps quickly became polluted with bloated corpses ( gators quit stalking their natural prey. No need tiring themselves out. Everywhere in their watery habitat gourmet meals were in abundance ).

         A full-scale police investigation was launched, but tough frontier lawmen were left scratchin’ their heads…here was a puzzler that offered no clues.

         There were some who thought a savage beast, of a species as yet unknown to man, might be the culprit causin’ all the ruckus. This idea was quickly discarded however; there was no visible evidence to support such a notion.

         No outward signs of violence were detected on the unfortunate victims, no mutilation whatsoever. Well, hold on a second. Maybe two tiny puncture marks on creamy throat. But hellsfire man, surely a wound so slight couldn’t bring about instant death!  ( there’s no hope for the reader who hasn’t  yet figured what this story is about. By now you should know not only WHO the featured character is, but far more importantly, WHAT he is. Study carefully the name, Alucard. The secret is found therein ).

         It was a disturbing time in Georgia, despair filled the air, But then an alert young southern doctor started adding two and two. In just 3 days he had the answer,,,four!

         A total absence of blood in the bodies…those tell-tale marks on soft, fleshy necks…all the horror beginning with the sudden appearance of Alucard in Georgia. How could anyone be so stupid? Why hadn’t they figured this out?

         Just a few months ago the citizens of Transylvania had experienced a similar plague, and this southern doctor had kept abreast of that terrible situation on a faraway continent.

         A shiver ran along his spine as he scurried to the nearest phone booth. Placing a Transatlantic call, Von Helsig answered on the second ring. Doc quickly explained the dilemma in Dixie.

         Von Helsig was equally quick with a reply, a not altogether reassuring one: “You Johnny Rebs have had it!”…

7

         There was this pair of professional chaps you see, one a world-renowned scientist from Transylvania, the other a rising young star of the medical field with a shingle hanging outside a modest bungalow somewhere in Georgia. A common bond, thanks to Count Alucard, had been forged between them.

         They were on the phone, engaged in lengthy discussion about problems that might arise from the Count’s presence in a Georgia still torn asunder by the Civil War. It was mutually agreed that all peach-pickers were in imminent danger.

         Their business chat finally ended, each learned the spouse and offspring of the other were doing just fine and even managed a tad of small talk about the weather ( a blizzard swirled down on Narrows that long-ago night.Every cloud over North America floated over our town to dump their fluffy white contents. It’s a matter of record that Hitler’s armywas bogged down in snow on the Russian front, thus for 44 years I’ve been wondering…did it snow likewise in Transylvania and Georgia?

         Enough was enough; transatlantic phone calls don’t come cheap.                                                                                      Someone would get billed an astronomical fee for this long-distance gabfest. Deciding to knock it off, they did so in the following manner.

         Young doctor: “Von, we desperately need your help here.”

         Von Helsig couldn’t say no. Though he stalked no animals, he’d nonetheless earned a world-wide reputation as a “hunter.” His was a unique service, in constant demand around the globe. This man offered a ray of hope when despairing people faced overwhelming odds. Never once did he turn a deaf ear to their pitiful pleas for help.

         Von Helsig, you see, was a “hunter of abominations”, those legions of evil who have, since the dawning of time, been locked in a never-ending struggle against mankind. One such evil was running loose now, on a rampage in Georgia.

         Von Helsig: “Our fastest clipper ship sails tomorrow morning. I should be there no later than 7 weeks from now. Until then, y’all be careful.”

         The Georgia doctor, aware of that dreadful situation in Eastern Europe just a few short months ago, fully understood that bit of advice.

         The warning to steer clear of Alucard wasn’t needed. By now every man woman and child in Georgia realized the threat posed by this newcomer who was active only during the hours of darkness. They were “ skeered” to death of Count Alucard…he was one dangerous dude!

         “And Doctor, “ Von Helsig added as an afterthought. “I’ll be needing two cords of wooden slats and a good sharp hatchet.”

         The doctor understood that request too. And it made him shudder…

8

                                                                                                                     You could set yer watch with Von Helsig. Ever the punctual one , he arrived in Dixieland right on schedule. There were numerous handshakes all around, then he settled into the serious business that had brought him halfway around the world.

         Von Helsig knew, far more than any southerner, about those awful powers possessed by Alucard. Time was of essence, thus two vitally important matters were quickly attended to.

         First, dozens of wooden slats were sharpened into handsomely designed stakes. Secondly, he handpicked a band of brave Georgians to assist in the deadly confrontation that was surely just ahead.

         And then neighbor, that there angry group went huntin’! Tracking Alucard to his lair , their timing was absolutely perfect. It was exactly high-noon ( the hour when their quarry was most vulnerable ) when they found the evil Count in his favorite resting place. There he lay, snoozin’ away in a crude wooden coffin, the bottom of which was amply sprinkled with 4 inches of Transylvanian soil. Invincible when night settled in on a frightened world, the monstrosity was now helpless as a sleeping babe.

         Emotions ran wild, enraged Georgians vented their pent-up fury on the loathsome figure stretched out in that peculiar bed. When the frenzied blood-letting had subsided  Count Alucard had enough stakes protruding from his body to erect a picket fence around a 40 acre palatial mansion. His reign of terror, beginning two centuries before Columbus discovered America, had finally ended. And, with the exception of a short epilogue, so too has this story…

   The  End

                                             M. L. Wilkinson

                                                                                                                                                         September, 1987        

Epilogue

        People who read this newspaper are smart, sensible and have an acute “awareness” level. A dummy such as myself couldn’t hoodwink ‘em in a million years. Most have had this story (a true one) figured from it’s inception…they’ve known all along  WHAT  Alucard was!
         But there’s always a few  blockheads who never catch on. Ya’ gotta’ draw pictures fer these dolts.

        That name…Alucard. Take a long hard look. It’s truly unbelievable you haven’t caught on yet. Pal, you better get them there peepers checked.

        Try spelling it backwards. Yeah old boy…the dreaded Dracula!! That blood-thirsty VAMPIRE who glides thru the night on leathery wings! He and his kindred have sought their victims from a besieged mankind since the dawning of time.

        Really though, I wouldn’t wager we’ve heard the last of Count Dracula. CREATURES  have a disturbing habit of staging dramatic comebacks. When least expected!

        The most unfair thing in our world are those annual selections made by the Academy Awards panel out yonder in Hollywood. I’ve never agreed with any of their picks.

        Not one Saturday matinee cowboy was ever given recognition ( imagine overlooking The Durango Kid, Johnny Mack Brown, Sunset Carson,etc. ) This omission ranks right up there with the greatest injustices of all time.

        How in hell did they overlook Johnny Weissmueller, the incomparable “King of the Jungle” who traveled thru his matted domain via grapevines?

        But the greatest blooper of all came in 1943. The panel presented the “Best Actor” award to Paul Lukas for his work in “Watch On The Rhine.”

        Any movie-goer with one bit of gumption knows that gold statuette rightfully should’ve been handed to Lon Chaney Jr. for his outstanding performance in  “Son of Dracula,”  the movie you’ve just finished reading about.