Kindred Voodoo
Lore and Legend
Saint Germaine
A certain mysterious man walked the streets of New Orleans a few decades ago. But for the subject matter at hand, our story stretches further back to France in the illustrious 1700's for there was also a certain, mysterious man who charmed the courts of Europe. His name was the Comte Saint Germaine. -A very strange, extraordinary, enigmatical character. He was a master of the piano and the violin. He could converse in 6 different languages. His skills as a conversationalist were unrivaled. (a skill that is nowadays a lost art.) His wealth unfathomable; He carried gems around in his clothing. And no one knew how he came into such wealth. No one knew anything about his family, where he came from and who he was. One of his greatest passions was alchemy. And he was believed to have an extraordinary talent for not aging. Maybe it was his vast knowledge of cosmetics and herbs. The philosopher Voltaire called him, "the man who knows everything and who never dies." No one really knows his age. He looked about 40 and continued to do so for over half a century. As charming and engaging as he was, and how he graced the dinner table of many dukes and kings even, no one had ever saw him eat anything. Only sip his wine, exquisitely, and ramble on about everything from history to chemistry. To this day, this mysterious figure has his own occult following from theosophists to complete way-out-there mystics. He was purported to die in the year 1784, though no one ever really saw his death. And some claim to have seen him many years after this date. But nevertheless, he disappeared from court life (I would too if I knew that the French Revolution was coming; which some people claim he did have knowledge of).
Fast forward to the 1920's in the jazz-raving city called New Orleans and there appears a man by the name of Jacques Saint Germaine. And in almost every caliber of description this same character matches that of the Comte above. Around 40 years of age, with heavy, heavy money bags, and the most fascinating of dinner guests. And still a complete mystery as to who he was and where he came from. He would throw lavish parties and invite all the proper and elite. Everyone would sit there divulged in the conversation and the food, and curiously enough, this Jacques would never eat a morsel, only sip his wine.
But one night he had a lady stay a bit late and out on his balcony this Saint Germaine grabbed her and tried to bite her neck. She escaped by falling from the balcony and then ran and reported the incident to the police. When the police actually decided to do something about it, Jacques Saint Germaine had entirely vanished. They searched his apartment and they found certain tablecloths and each of them laid out with large splotches of blood on them. They searched the kitchen. No sign of food or that food had ever been there. All they found were bottles of wine. And after pouring themselves a glass, drinking it, and then spitting it out, the authorities, vouched that this was not only wine in these bottles, but wine mixed with human blood.
Brothers in Blood
New Orleans leads our nation's murder rate. Not only that, but it has always been a notorious place for missing persons. -That is, people just disappearing and no one really knowing what has happened to them. It has been the influx of all the diverse culture that makes New Orleans what it is, that has enabled, perhaps some of the unlucky to be overlooked between the intermingling of the cultures. The blood of the French, the Spanish, the Indian, the African, the Creole, the English, all mixed together here where the mosquito is not so picky. -Nor perhaps, other creatures.
John and Wayne Carter were brothers. He seemed to be normal in every aspect. Had normal labor jobs down by the river and lived on a street in the French Quarter. It was the 1930's and times were hard. So a man worked all he could and rested when he could. One day, a girl was reported to have escaped from the Carter brothers' apartment, and ran to the authorities. Her wrists were cut. Not enough to cause immediate death, but more so, to drain slowly of that red source of life, over the course of several days. The policemen ran to this 3rd story apartment and found 4 others tied to chairs with their wrists sliced in the same fashion also. Some had been there for many days. The story was that both of these brothers had abducted each of them and would drink their blood at the end of every day when they came home from work. They also found about 14 other dead bodies. The cops waited that night for the return of the brothers and when they did, it took 7 to 8 of them to hold down these two averaged size men who had been doing manual labor all day. A few years later when they were finally executed, the bodies were placed in a New Orleans vault. Cemeteries in New Orleans are fanciful in their own making. Not only are they more ornate than the rest of our nation's, but they recycle them using the same vault over and over again. The remains sift down into the back, bottom of the vault, when it is all rubble, and the new body is slid inside. After many years, they were placing some other Carter in this grave and what they found in the vault was nothing. No John or Wayne. They were gone. To this day, many sightings have occurred in the French Quarter that matches the descriptions of these two brothers almost exactly. Years later, an owner of their apartment, saw two figures that resembled them outside on their balcony one night whispering to each other. Both figures jumped off the top of the 3rd story balcony and took off running.
(the following stories were found here: http://brianharrison.hubpages.com/hub/The-Vampire-Legends-of-New-Orleans)