Today, I was led into a crypt by the ghost of Sarah Collins, dead for nearly two centuries.

I jot that down with no irony.  Two months ago, I would have said hogwash to the whole thing, but now I feel like the first man who discovered fire.  This changes everything we know, and I can’t even take the time to appreciate it.  I have to get back and use what I’ve learned to save lives and stop Barnabas Collins.

Impossible?  Collins arrives, looks exactly like a portrait of an ancestor, acts like a grade-a weirdo, people die, there are kidnappings and shootings and memory loss.  THEN, everyone sees a ghost of a little girl.  She leads me into a room with a coffin that looks like it’s been chained up, vanishes, and I find out she’s a dead ringer, you should pardon the phrase, for Barney’s dead sister?  Come on.

There’s only one explanation that makes sense.  But cavemen knew gravity stuck things to the floor.  That didn’t mean they could build a jet.

So, if he is a vampire, what the hell do I do then?



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