STRANGE STAGE STUDIOS

What you’re about to see isn’t real.

How could it be? Vampires don’t exist.

And yet, one hundred years ago, you could have paid a dime at a traveling carnival to be told otherwise. Barkers and showmen of the 1920s and ’30s would lure the curious with promises of a ‘genuine vampire hunting kit’. The centrepiece was always the same: a genuine vampire heart. Billed as the still-beating organ of a creature that refused to die. People swore you could see it twitch if you stared long enough. It was theatre, of course. A trick for the midway. But sometime before that, decades earlier, the kits were made for reasons far more sinister. 

In the decades following the Crimean War, Europe was awash in fractured men. Soldiers returned home not to parades, but to silence and uncertainty. Their skills were no longer needed. Their loyalty, however, still had value.

Behind closed doors, powerful men conspired, generals seeking influence, ministers with secrets to bury, and aristocrats eager to shape the world to their design. Together they devised a scheme to put these restless veterans to use. A covert initiative was born: Operation Sangruinum. The premise was as theatrical as it was effective, convince these men that the impossible was real. That vampires walked among them.

Forged journals, staged rescue reports, fabricated medical evidence, even entire vampire hunting kits were created to complete the illusion. Every detail was crafted to convince these soldiers that their cause was righteous. They were told they fought not for coin, but for God and mankind. In truth, they were no more than instruments, unleashed against political foes and inconvenient rivals, believing themselves saviours while serving the designs of men far more monstrous than any vampire.

William Hargreaves was one of them. A former military surgeon: precise, efficient, detached. Into his hands was placed such a kit, stake, mallet, vials marked as blood, holy water, grave soil. What in another age might be dismissed as a carnival trick was here employed as a weapon of illusion. And William believed.

The turning point came when he met her, the love of his life. Clever, curious, and, if the stories are true, quietly suspicious of his work. They married in June of 1865. By late summer, William was ready to abandon his service and its grim assignments. But the establishment would not release one of their finest instruments, not for something as trivial as love. Months later, he found her murdered. The scene had been staged to resemble a vampire attack.

His diary recounts his apparent descent into madness, how he lingered over her body in mourning, how grief hollowed him day by day. But then comes the question that chills the reader: why does he write of hearing her moving through the house at night? Why does he confess to the unspeakable act of driving a stake through her heart, and to keeping that heart within this very kit, clinging to the hope that one day he might bring her back after vengeance was served?

Was William merely a broken man chasing shadows, or was there truly something darker at work? And this kit before us…a harmless curiosity of the carnival? Or the last remnant of a far more terrible truth? 

Perhaps, before the evening is over, you will find out for yourself.

Strange Stage Magic Presents – Spookshow: Operation Sanguinum

The Spookshow range are a whole, ready to perform show!

I have always wanted to perform with a vampire hunting kit. The problem was I never had a story that grounded the kit in believability, until now. This year, I am giving you my full Halloween act. I play this as a skeptic. After all, it’s an old carnie trick. Sure, the artefacts are old; they even smell old. But this kit was once used to manipulate vulnerable soldiers suffering from trauma. And tonight, we’re going to explore the very techniques that made men believe in the existence of vampires.

The diary is read aloud, its opening pages depicting William Hargreaves, his years of service, and his longing to leave it all behind for the love of his life.

The show routines:

Carte-de-visite cards are introduced. A participant is drawn to one. Just as William was steered towards a choice, so too is the spectator. On the back, a prayer-like verse contains many names. They convinced men like William that they could divine truth from objects. Perhaps there is psychometry at play… or perhaps the choice was never theirs to begin with. When the diary pages are examined, it is revealed that William never once wrote his beloved’s name, save for one entry. And that name is the very one thought of by the participant.

They began with small tests, names, objects, details William could later confirm. But once his trust was won, they planted something far darker. They told him the enemy, rival nations, spies, were using vampires. Not to kill, but to extract. Vampires, they said, could reach into a man’s mind and steal his secrets. No interrogation. No threats. Just the truth, pulled out whole. They claimed such techniques had already been used against soldiers in the Crimea. And then they proved it to him, showing him something from his own mind, something they had no right to know. To recreate this, the performer asks a participant to name a memorable date. It may be joyous, it may be solemn, only they know. The diary is opened to that very date. The participant reads an entry in silence, merging their own memory with William’s words. Yet somehow, the performer divines details from both memories.

The next part of the story takes us deeper into the lie. The aristocrats told their soldiers that the enemy’s ‘vampires’ could sense the touch of graveyard dirt. If a man handled it, he was marked, and the creatures would come for him. To prove this, they devised a ritual: men would take vessels at random, and yet, without fail, the one holding the grave dirt would be revealed. The mark, they said, clung like a scent only the damned could smell.  A kurotsuke type demonstration is used using an old velvet bag and 3 bottles. One containing holy water, vampire blood and our target, the graveyard dirt. You will always know where it is.

But that was not the only test. Once he was convinced that invisible marks could be detected, they pressed further. A second trial was used, this time with the same bottles from the kit, passed between hands, exchanged with one another and hidden from sight. And yet, impossibly, the outcome could always be foretold. For this we employ Michael Murray’s ingenious RPS system, which allows the performer to divine the result no matter how the choices are made.

In the early 20th century, carnivals drew crowds by promising a sight of a ‘real beating’ vampire heart. A volunteer would place their hand over a box lid and swear they felt something moving inside. What few realise is that this sideshow did not begin in the carnival at all. Its roots reach back decades earlier, when damaged soldiers were subjected to the very same illusion. They were told to place their hands on the lids of coffins to detect which of the dead had turned. The pulse they felt beneath their hands was all they needed to convince them. In our demonstration, participants place a hand over the crucifix on the lid of the box. And as much as you reassure them it’s only an old carnie trick, that they aren’t feeling anything, the more they will swear they did.

The finale unfolds as a participant is guided into a trance-like state, allowing them to connect with William’s final recorded memory. In their hands, they hold the stake and mallet, the instruments through which William’s presence can be channeled. The performer poses a series of questions, and when the participant emerges from the trance, a letter found inside the kit is opened, revealing that they have discerned the details of that fateful night with alarming accuracy.

This final routine employs, with very kind permission, an adapted version of Michael Murray’s Between the Lines. It remains one of my all-time favourite effects, perfectly suited to bring the evening to an eerie close, leaving your guests questioning whether it was merely a sideshow ruse, or if something far darker was at play.

What’s included:

• A meticulously aged and detailed wooden box with crucifix detail on the lid.
• A mummified heart, complete with stake hole, wrapped in linen.
• A hand-bound diary that allows for numerous routines.
• Four carte de visite photograph prayer cards depicting Whitby, Highgate Cemetery, New Orleans, and Romania.
• A wooden stake, wrapped in twine with a crucifix etched into the handle.
• A wooden mallet, wrapped in twine with a crucifix held on either side by period-accurate screws.
• Three bottles containing holy water, vampire blood, and graveyard dirt.
• An aged velvet drawstring bag.
• An aged letter
• A toe/fob combo switch and full video instructions outlining each routine and additional ideas.

I should also say during the ageing process the artefact has been treated with scents to ensure it has the right balance of decay and old antique shop!

You will have full performance rights as an owner of this Spookshow.

Due to the nature of the props, and the time that goes into these, only 13 kits will be made available.

Shipping Included Worldwide!