Vampires of Mississippi
His long blond hair unkempt, the bottle of murky spirits clutched in his hands, the sad blues guitar which echoes in his mind echoing rather than soothing his profound and justified misery, the weeping man by the rough-crafted coffin, sized for a child, knows he has done wrong, knows that he made terrible mistakes, lost everything he had, but challenges anyone who witnesses his story to have done different.
His wife Anna first to succumb to the Spanish Flu, the curse brought back from the Great War, the blackness crawling across her face in less than a day, now Joseph and Maggie have begun to display symptoms, their grieving father seeking an unholy remedy in the stories told about that which was buried on Tomb Island which cannot cross the fast running water of the deep Mississippi, a life beyond death which might save his children.
A dark and dramatic monologue of the bitterness of the grave written and performed by Corin Rhys Jones and directed by Ashley Barlow, Vampires of Mississippi is set in the bleak poverty of Leake County, the nearest town Carthage only six hundred people and the darkness of the night complete in the forest, the man only daring to cross to Tomb Island when sweltering sun offers him protection even as he offers bloody tribute.
The emaciated inhabitants of the cracked tomb never seen, only described as seen in deep shadow, living skeletons who shift and whisper, to carry an hour with only voice and the minimal lighting and sound to enhance the setting is an impressive feat, Jones’ conveying the despair and horror of a man who, despite the clear night and the full Moon above, has no clear path.
Vampires of Mississippi continues at the Banshee Labyrinth on Niddry Street until Sunday 30th August
