Mistress of the Scarlet Fang

Introduction

The late American author Anatole Baskin only ever published one book under his own name: a how-to manual for the installation of automatic dishwashers, which went out of print in 1964. But, under a plethora of pen names, Mr. Baskin, one of the 20th century's busiest pulp writers, produced several hundred works, many of which remain the objects fervent popular affection. For example, Baskin's The Loneliest Poodle, presented as the creation of a fictional retired nurse named Daniella Purifoy, has sold twenty million copies, has been translated into thirty-seven languages, was the source material for an animated film and a stage musical, and was the inspiration for a ride at the Happywood Acres amusement park. Meanwhile, writing under the nom-de-plume Dexter Morrow, Baskin put out a series of detective novels featuring the one-eyed private eye Roscoe Chilton, a character that will of course be familiar to anyone who saw the Seventies TV series Here Comes Chilt!. And, those of us who read Rocket Story magazine as a kid can easily recall the thrilling space adventures of Rex Carson and Belinda Milestone as penned by one "Franklyn Senter", who was in truth none other than Anatole Baskin in yet another guise.

No one is certain why Baskin chose to hide his identity behind all these masks. His biographer, Uta Langella, suggests various psychological causes, some of which relate to an unhappy childhood and several unhappy marriages. But, it is equally possible that Baskin was simply trying to avoid his creditors, of whom, due to an expensive lifestyle and a lifelong addiction to rare liqueurs, he had many. It is known, for instance, that he attempted to hide his substantial Poodle royalties in a phony bank account under the Purifoy pseudonym. Unfortunately for Baskin, his creditors hired a detective who had long studied the detection methods of Roscoe Chilton, and the Poodle money scheme was discovered. Still, Langella believes that the ultra-prolific author managed to squirrel away about ten million dollars in various secret accounts over the span of his lengthy career. Money, by the way, which has since become the subject of several lawsuits among Baskin's numerous and contentious heirs.

In any case, scholars have yet to unearth all the work Baskin produced in the course of his eighty-seven years. So far, we know of about 400 books, 800 short stories, 17 volumes of party jokes and toasts, and the scripts for about 1300 television shows. Among the most famous revelations: Baskin wrote 97 Harlequin romances, including Passionate Moisture, which was made into the Broadway play Oh, Toronto!; Baskin, and not Vurl Vurlesson, is the actual author of Trousers of Sod, an epic poem about Viking life in Greenland; Baskin also found time to pen the underground sci-fi classic Pussykat X-1, the basis of the infamous unfinished Elvis movie (this was the film which was shut down by the studio when they saw that Elvis's spaceship strongly resembled a gigantic dildo).

Meanwhile, an English professor at Dewlap College has recently claimed to have established that Baskin was the real author of the S&M novels of "Charlotte Dormabella", a pseudonym which had long been attributed to the "Queen of Gothic Horror", Anya Basmati. (The reader will no doubt recall that Basmati's novels in the "Viscount Diabolus" cycle reinvigorated vampire literature, inaugurating a new "Crimson Age", much to the delight of booksellers everywhere.) Of course, this claim implies that Basmati herself was yet another of Baskin's inventions. In this respect, it is interesting to note that, last year, it was revealed that the woman who presented herself as Basmati on book tours and at conventions was actually a female impersonator named Clint Bradshaw. Mr. Bradshaw, it turns out, was hired by a literary agent to fill in for the "real Basmati", who allegedly suffered from extreme shyness.

Although the jury is still out on the Baskin/Basmati question, Uta Langella presents some tantalizing evidence of a connection in her recent article in X-Press magazine. Following the death of Baskin's widow (his sixth wife, Lornette), Ms. Langella gained access to a hitherto unknown cache of Baskin's papers and memorabilia. Among a large collection of manuscripts, she discovered the draft for the fourth chapter of a novel entitled "Mistress of the Scarlet Fang". Ms. Langella could find no other chapters of this work, though she did locate a sheet of paper headed "For Red Tooth", which was covered over with scribbled notes about characters and possible plot developments. What's interesting is, the character names closely parallel those found in Basmati's fiction, and are in some cases exactly the same (for example, "Madelyn Lilywhite", "Ondine Chalfont" and "Ivor Bogeymann"). Also, it is worth mentioning that, as Basmati fans know, her first vampire story, published in Heebie Jeebie Monthly (1967), was entitled "Doktor Bloodfang's Lover".

Now that a "Viscount Diabolus" movie, starring Charlize Anniston and Dermot McDermott, is about to open in theaters nationwide, we thought it might be an opportune moment to print the full text of Chapter 4 of "Mistress of the Scarlet Fang", to provide the curious public with some insight into the latest Baskin controversy. However, it will certainly be many years before this matter is put to rest, if ever. After all, theories in academic circles have a tendency to behave much as vampires do, by outliving their natural span, and by being almost impossible to destroy, save by the light of day, which they are rarely allowed to see. -L.G. Puller, Fiction Editor, Gasoline Magazine

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Mistress of the Scarlet Fang

Editor's Note: The manuscript is presented "as is", with no changes to correct grammar, spelling or other inconsistencies. Also, the narrative is told in a somewhat esoteric manner, using only dialogue, and no effort has been made to reshape Baskin's prose. The Reader should also be aware that the manuscript in its present form is presumed to be incomplete. As far as the story is concerned, the notes associated with the manuscript explain that Madelyn Lilywhite's mother and older sister have been drafted to fight in the Turko-Phoenician War. With the breadwinners of the family gone to the front, the remaining Lilywhites have fallen on hard times, and cannot afford to keep the nubile young Madelyn at their ruined estate in "Zeletsgornyo", a region in the fictional country of Crovania. Thus they send Madelyn to stay at the home of a family friend, Count Maximillian Demonicus, whom they hope will find among his acquaintances a suitable husband for the girl. But, as we will see, they were grievously mistaken in placing their trust in the Count...

Chapter 4

"Miss Lilywhite, mayhaps shall I enter thy room?"

"Oh, good evening, Count! And, yes, you may enter my room, for is it not also your room, being as it is a room inside of your house? Besides, I am, in fact, filled with gladness to have you visit, for I am somewhat not myself this evening...."

"Yes, my dear Miss Lilywhite, thus the occasion of my visit. My butler informs me your bosoms have been seen to heave somewhat, now and then, all the evening long. I am not a small amount worried, and wonder if perhaps something is wrong with you?"

"Oh, my dear Count, do you not know what is wrong with me? Can you not perceive my distress with your eyes, your nose, your ears? Did you not study Feminine Anatomy at the University of Transcarpathia?"

"No, I did not. You are thinking I think of my late brother, the Duke, also known as Gary, who was applauded far and wide for his Anatomical expertise. Meanwhile, I studied Wiggery at Vladimir Poly in Poznogreb. A dubious and wasteful pursuit, my father said, yet profitable...yes, profitable, indeed! Oh, but, nevertheless, if I may assist you in some wise, I would do it if I could. Although I fear I must inform you, I am not so adept at perceiving as once I was. Perhaps you should step closer toward where I am standing, for then I may perhaps gaze at you better, if there be less distance betwixt us."

"Well, I suppose there would be no harm in moving myself until I am nearer to where you are at in the room, which is over near the fireplace, the one with the mantlepiece which holds upon it so many cameos of your late wife, the Countess, whose passing has long been blamed on some mysterious ailment. But, my dear Count, if I do step closer, I pray and beg of you, I would wish it not that you attempt any familiarity or manly amusement. Say that you will keep unto yourself your hands and other appendages."

"On that score, my dear girl, you may be unafraid and also not fearful. For I am an eldersome gentleman, and have no designs upon your innocence. Furthermore, I did already in former days indulge in all manner of passionate couplings with all manner of beasts and harlots and wine barrels, and am now well and truly spent. Indeed, my apparatus of manliness is but a shadow of its younger self, a mere twig, a macaroni, a nubbin. So, in thuswise fashion, you are doubly safe in my vicinity, if indeed into my vicinity you shall presently come."

"Then I will bid myself to stand and advance. Make ready your faculties, my dear Count, so you may train them upon my bosom, to investigate the causes of its heaving."

"Just so, my dear. I take note of your walking and see that it is indeed directed in my direction."

"Yes. Even as I speak, I am coming abreast of the dressing table whereupon sits the locked diary of your late wife, the Countess, the very diary which is rumored to contain the record of many mischiefs and ill deeds."

"Be that as it may, your progress is most excellent, for already you are close enough for me to observe better what perchance may afflict thy bosom. But, perhaps you should step closer still."

"Oh, my dear Count, I should wish to advance further, yet I find myself grievously challenged in the matter of approaching any nearer to thy personage."

"And what, pray tell, may the nature of the aforesaid challenge be?"

"It beseems unto me that I am hindered by a presentiment of things to come, a precognition, if you will; a mental message from the future, bearing tidings of woe."

"Woe, you say? I am curious, for 'woe' is not a word I know."

"Indeed? It is verily the word I must choose, eschewing all others as less appropriate to my meaning. For, you see, 'woe' is derived from the Middle German wochel, which was in turn derived from the Visigoth vokische, which meant 'to be beset upon by feelings of a most unhappy nature, such as the feeling that overcomes one whilst one is being eaten by a wolf or a crocodile'."

"Ah, thank you, my dear, for now I believe I somewhat understand this 'woe' of which you spoke in your penultimate utterance."

"Yes, I am afraid the woe is quite strong now. I find that I may not be able to persist in the forward motions which we discussed at an earlier time this evening."

"Perhaps I may suggest a solution to your predicament?"

"Oh, my dear Count, you may suggest away to your heart's content, for I am all ears and my ears are wide open. Indeed, I will now finish my sentence to allow you a silence in which to speak aloud your suggestion."

"My suggestion is this: if I take several steps in your direction, it is my belief that I would presently come into range of your heaving bosom, and then, being closer to you, as per the plan we had originally agreed upon, I would be able to inspect your bosoms for defects or ailments."

"Oh, my dear Count! You are truly sagacious and also wise. I must insist you embark at once on this course of action, for it has recently come to my attention that my feminine glands are truly ready to burst forth from my flimsy and also transparent bodice."

"Then I shall indeed endeavor to speedily pursue my perambulation."

"Yes, please do. I shall await your arrival with various anticipatory feelings."

"Ah, I find that I am now within visualization range of your bodily form."

"Oh, but, Count, if I may ask of you a question?"

"Yes, my dear? You may inquire whatsoever you desire to inquire."

"Well, I was curious about a curious new development in our relations. Now that you are a mere arm's length away, it beseemeth to me I do espy a certain odd jewel in your hand, and it further beseemeth this jewel is somehow or other making me woozy and dizzy and also slowish of wit, although I know not how such a thing could be."

"Yes, Miss Lilywhite, I must admit, I have removed a magical device from my watchpocket, a gem known to some as the Red Emerald of Grosnorsk, and known to others as the Dire Orb of Novgorod, or the Accursed Doomstone, or the Bedazzler, a talisman created by the great wizard Theremin, and imbued by him with various enchantments and virtues, chief among these being the power of Mesmeric Influence, which influence is even now radiating out from this most comely of jewels, to bathe your mental areas with soothing rays of submission."

"That is most interesting, Count! I never knew of such a thing in all my living days. And yet, also am I bewildered, for I cannot fathom your purpose, and I fear my premonition might perhaps be coming true. Were you not approaching closer to examine my poor afflicted teats?"

"In that regard, I am afraid I must also further admit that I have always known the cause of your breastly convulsions, for I had my chef prepare for you a custard seasoned with ichor of hellberry, which ichor has the effect of inducing febrility and various unnameable passions in beautiful young women. This custard I speak of was of course the very custard which you consumed with such relish after dinner this evening."

"Oh, in that case, would that I had not tasted of that most devious of puddings, for I would not now be suffering such bouts of vibrational disturbance! But, I beg of you, whatever did you intend, to so impregnate me with such a wicked poultice?"

"My dear, do you not realize? I long ago determined I must somewise or another find a way to discombobulate you, thus to work my magicks upon your mind and body. For you see, I am called Vampyr! Otherwise I am known as the Bloodsucker, the Nibbler of Necks, the Untanned Man Who Is Not Alive Exactly But Walks About As If He Were. And as such I am Master and Commander of this darkling realm which lies about my many-windowed manor house."

"Oh, my dear Count, I am trembling with fear as you speak such fearsome words into the hole of my ear. And yet, never would I have taken thee for a vampire, never ever in my most wild of imaginings."

"Is it indeed so, Miss Lilywhite? Have you not noticed I never sleep else I sleep in a box of soil from the country of my birth? Have you not noticed I have a marked aversion to the emanations of that foul star you know as 'The Sun'? Has it not occurred to you that it is somewhat strange for a man to sometimes transform himself into a member of the Chiroptera family and flit about the rafters of the manse? Oh, well, perhaps you are too innocent to take much stock of such bizarre doings. Or, perhaps you suffer from a morbid thickening of the headbone. But, fear you not, my child. For I mean you naught harm. Indeed, I have it in mind to make of you a Mistress, who shall rule this country by my side as Countess Demonicus Two, the first Countess being no longer among us, but instead being encrypted in the catacombs that lie 'neath this very room."

"Well, now that I am somewhat befuddled and also relaxed of cogitation, I find that I cannot utter an untruth. For, indeed, I should ever so much like to be Countess Number Two...but yet I am trepidatious lest the manner of my deflowering be painful or frightening."

"Oh, come now, Miss Lilywhite, surely you think not I intend merely to rob you of your innocence? Although, yes, that is in fact an important feature of my Scheme, as I like to call it. But, first, I must make you like unto my own self, which is to say, I must needs changest thou from maiden to vampiress."

"And howsoever shall this work, my Count? For I must inform you, I suddenly discover myself to be somewhat less disinclined than I formerly was. Even my precognitions seem premature and hasty now, the vapors of but a moment's doubt."

"That is most pleasing to hear, Miss Lilywhite. And now I shall explain my method: firstly, I must causeth my fangs to descend from their hiding places...in thus-like manner. Then, I must request that you tilt your head just so...yes, exactly perfect. And now I must suck somewhat of thy vital humors, following which sucking I shall plant upon thy ruby lips the kiss I like to call 'The Vampire's Kiss', a kiss which will have the happy effect of making you a Lady fit to wear the title of Countess Demonicus Two."

"And, as you approach to ply your suck upon my tender neck, I find myself somewhat surprised by the bumpiness betwixt thy loins. What is this, then, my Count? For I do seem to recall your protestations of poverty, wherein your organs of amorousness were concerned."

"Ah, yes, my dear. I must confess, I am indeed not shrunken and withered and diminished in that area, though I might possibly have misled you at an earlier point in our conversation. Indeed, I find that I am now in fact completely the opposite of a nubbin, and wonder if you would be so kind as to liberate my manly accoutrements from their entrapments of gabardine and silk, whilst I sup at the banquet that floweth from thy alabaster neckbone."

"Oh my! But, Count, I must say, this appendage I hold in my hand, it truly doth throb and also seemeth somewhat feverish. Is this not a sign of unhealth? Perhaps we should send for the Apothecary...."

"No, my dear, there is no need for Apothecaries or Surgeons or Sorcerers of any kind. Simply grasp tight upon my rigidness to steady yourself as I suck, and I will presently show you various enjoyable methods for making use of my turgidity."

"Perhaps I have fallen yet more deep beneath the power of your Persuasive Jewel, but all you say makes the highest sense to me. So I shall do as you instruct, and hold fast upon thy middle leg. Ah, but, how I swoon as you drain me of my essences, my dear sweet Count Demonicus...."

Editor's note: Baskin's manuscript ends here. The only other text on the last page is a partial grocery list and a note about a rescheduled toupee fitting. Uta Langella is still searching for the remaining chapters of "Mistress", assuming they exist at all. If they are found, we will of course publish them in full.