March 5, 2002 (The Telegraph Group Limited) - A teenager accused over the gruesome occult murder of a prominent DNA scientist told police that he is a vampire who was driven into a killing frenzy by the taste of the victim's blood, a court heard.

Kyle Hulbert, 18, is one of four suspects on trial in Leesburg, Virginia, for the murder of Robert Schwartz, who was stabbed 30 times with a two-foot sword in his home in Loudon County just before Christmas. The police found an "X" carved into the back of Mr Schwartz's neck.

One investigator, John Russ, said Hulbert told him he "got blood in his mouth, went into a bloodlust, continued to stab Schwartz and awoke and realised he had stabbed him several times in the back".

Also charged with the murder is Mr Schwartz's daughter Clara, 19, Michael Pfohl, 21, and Katherine Inglis, 19.

They were said by classmates to have been devoted "Goths," members of the death-obsessed teenage subculture of heavy metal rock fans, who dress in black clothing and use occult imagery.

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Posted by Vladimir Sun, 03/25/2007 - 17:57

 

He Was Obsessed With "Things Of The Night"

August 2, 2002 (The Calgary Herald) - Mathew Hardman's preoccupation with vampirism was chillingly foreshadowed in the months before he killed his 90-year-old neighbour. During talks with a German student on an exchange visit to Llanfairpwll, he betrayed his attraction to the "things of the night." He told her he believed the Anglesey village was "a perfect place for vampires" because there were many elderly people there, and if any of them died after being bitten it would be assumed they had suffered a heart attack.

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Transylvanian Prisoners of the Night

There are many strange things in Transylvania;
Like wolves howling in the night,
Listen to them!
Children of the night! What sweet music they make!

Now is the trembling moment of our heart to heart dance between life
And death,
Which looms larger than life.
Together we will cross oceans of time embraced in that immortal kiss.

At dusk we will awake, like a bat together we will fly to quench our
Never ending thirst,
Seeking mortals from the villages and towns closeby,
We will drain the land of it's crimson soul,

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As yet untitled

I look to the sky,
so clear and blue
peaceful,
calm.
The trees,
brown and dead,
yet they still have
some kind of luster.
The fields,
so expansive,
but like everything,
still enclosed by boundaries.
The road,
the smallest wall in height
to ever separate two things.
I see the breeze,
an impossible feat,
but not for this philosopher,
writer,
poet,
lover.
I see homes,
scattered like
raindrops on a windshield.
A tower or two,

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Blood in the Saddle by Dietmar Trommeshauser [M]

(for Heidi, Uwe, Bodo, and Bernd)
The Ojibwa Shaman slit the white man's throat, releasing his last breath as a jet of bright red mist into the cold winter air. Pressing one knee into his victim's back, he grabbed a massive fistfull of the man's long black hair, yanked back the head and ran his blade across the tight forehead. With a sudden, hard wrench, he ripped off the entire scalp as if it were the pelt of a rabbit. Steam rose from the man's naked, blood-slick skull, making it look like it was on fire.

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Love...Hate!

Life, death, love and hate! The stars alone tell the stone cold truth!

We all live a short time here and before you know it it is to late!

Darkness falls and bugs crawl! Soon to have a feast!

Suns up! Skins burning, cover up cover up or you'll be crisp!

Lovers here lovers now sweet hatred it can be!

Is this a world full of people or is all this a sick spoof?

At night you hear the spirits warn you! You hear the world stop and then there before you is the beast.

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