Juggernaut Costume Project

I have always been a fan of homemade costumes.  Though I have never been to a comic con to see the fandom in person I have always appreciated the love and care that you see in many of their costumes.

So in the spirit of comic fandom I started gathering all the pieces i would need to make my Juggernaut costume.


The fists were originally hulk hands.  I used some flesh tone paint on them and used vinyl.

 

I used foam and cut out the pieces that make up the helmet.  I did have to sew it together along the sides and top.  I then painted it red and attached some more vinyl.  I then secured upholstery tacks along the base and smaller ones at points around the eye holes and mouth.

The rest was simple. Just sewing the top together.  The pants were a little tricky it did have to add a piece of painted foam to make the top of the boots.

The arms were done in three stages.  The innermost layer of the arms are made of white long sleeve T-shirts.  I attached the foam muscles, painted with the same flesh tone paint as the fists, to the outside of that and then covered that with nylon stockings.  And as for the boots I simply painted some old shoes with acrylic paint.

Project for my brothers b-day

Some time back, my brother, his husband, my wife, and I went camping in Daniel Boone national forest.

My brother brought along his newly acquired walking stick with the intention of going hiking while we were there.  This, of course, never happened.  As a result the walking stick was abandoned on my back porch.

He had plans of carving finger notches in it as well as designs...this never came to pass.

As his birthday approached I thought it might be nice to finish his work.

First I stripped the bark off of it.  Then drew a nice little dragon on it in ink.  This was after I had his husband do a little recon to find out what he would like.  

Next came the carving.  About half way through I wished that I had chosen a simpler design.  Thanks to my trusty dremel I was able to get the details right.

I also decided to fancy it up a bit with leather and rivets.

Next came paint.  Easy enough.

Last was the task of staining the wood.  After all the carving this seemed like child's play.

Happy birthday Chris!  I had better get some pictures of you actually going for a hike...lol!

Nomadrel's Journey part 2

Nomadrel's Journey

II

When he arrived it was night. He wondered what he had missed in his absence. He was surprised to find that he was standing near the docks. At his feet lay a box with his name written on it. Nomadrel knew it was from the man in the hood. He didn’t know how, but it was.

The box contained a red hooded shirt. ‘Lee said something about this.’ he thought as his mind wandered to his memory of all that Lee had said.

Almost on cue, Lee appeared ahead. Nomadrel knew that he was being watched. Someone knew where he was going to be. Lee was there watching the docks and it wasn’t long before Nomadrel spotted Beliso and his past self, arriving to make an exchange. ‘To help find me on the docks’ Lee’s words echoed in his mind.

It was the first conversation he had with Lee. ‘At the Mjolnir Tavern.’ He reminded himself and there was only one of the Vekinos that wouldn’t kill him on sight…Ephinox.

He had his message, he had his meeting place, and, strangely enough, had a the time…Sort of. With the flick of his new tail he was off.

***

The Mjolnir Tavern was just as he had imagined. His father, Ragnarok, had never allowed him to travel to this part of Dahamadra. Then again, Ragnarok never really let him go anywhere there would be humans. That is, of course, unless it served his own means.

He knew better than to be seen here; his father had few friends. With the hood in place he entered quietly and found a nice shady corner table. Unfortunately it was occupied, so standing at the end of the bar would have to do.

Other than a funny first look from the bartender he sat unnoticed. He thought about what he’d heard from people in his father’s employ.

The first described an epic bar room brawl. Nomadrel was eager to see this.

It wasn’t long before he heard Lee’s familiar voice. “I’m looking for…” was all Lee could manage before he had to dodge a barrage of flying drinks. To his surprise Lee lept into action, seemingly without his permission.

The first of them to step up was a six foot beast of a man with a shaved head and plenty of tattoos. The one most noticeable was the one on his forehead that read “DIE”. A quick thrust to the throat and a sharp kick to the stomach and he was done. The next five each received a broken limb. Nomadrel realized that he’d have to be quick on his feet if he was going to avoid joining them.

After the last goon had been handled Lee asked again. “I said I’m looking for the Vekinos,” Nomadrel was amazed at the devastation that Lee had caused. “I need to speak to them. I have a business proposition for them.”

“What business do you have with them?” Nomadrel answered from his poorly lit corner.

Lee turned to see an empty table. “Wha?...”

“You don’t belong here stranger. You and I both know it.” The voice came again from just behind Lee.

‘How is he that fast?’ Lee thought as he turned around carefully. A young man in a red hooded shirt stood hiding his face within the shade of the hood.

“Speak with Ephinox at the Happy Cloud Inn.” and in a flash he was gone.

***

Nomadrel was in a panic. He hadn’t used his power to move through time. Something was pulling and pulling hard.

After a moment the pulling ceased and Nomadrel was flung violently to the roof of a building. It didn’t take long for him to realize where he was.

Below him was the alley where Lee had caught him. It was here that a paradox of himself had been made. This was just a theory, of course.

Off to his right he could hear the angry screams of Lee as he sprinted from the delivery bay of the hospital. ‘Those vials could have been used to treat the sick.’ Nomadrel thought to himself.

Below him was a much more naive version of himself. His younger self quickly replicated as he quickly folded time. In an instant Lee rounded the corner.

The pain, from Lee’s attack, was still fresh in his mind. Though this hurt, Nomadrel was still impressed with Lee's combat skills.

The paradox vanished just in time for his already unconscious self to be restrained by Constable Jgorn. Though the constables had a bad reputation, they really were keepers of the peace in Dahamadra. Nomadrel could see why Jgorn was a leader among them.

Something else caught Nomadrel’s eye; His hooded friend. The man in the hood stood a few blocks away on a rooftop as well. Staying a fair way back Nomadrel made his careful way across the rooftops. One bad decision here would not only kill him, but could do horrible damage to time.

The man in the hood finally descended from his rooftop. Nomadrel could see that he had cornered someone. That someone was his paradox twin.

He was no match for the man in the hood. Nomadrel recognized the building. It was a safe house for Ragnarok. He had considered fleeing there once he had the serum. The old warehouse door rose suddenly bathing the hooded man in light.

The hood was hit by a bolt of electricity and in a flash the man in the hood was gone.

A flood of thoughts washed over Nomadrel. Was it these events that pulled him here? Was it a result of the events yet to transpire that had done this? And what was the hooded man’s connection to it all? He knew he’d need to ask the Mardrine he had seen from Dahamadra’s future to know for sure.

***

As quickly as he had left her he returned. His arrival startled the people who now lived in these tunnels. Though they had been surprised by his arrival there was something else in each of their faces.

Nomadrel pushed through the crowd to the area Mardrine had led him before. People now appeared to be living closer to the room that she had shown him. The smell of unwashed, huddled masses saddened him. ‘This is what it all came to,’ he thought, ‘one man’s quest for power has brought this once glorious city to ruin.’

A teenager came running toward him from the room ahead. “She knew it would be the last time, didn’t she?” the undernourished girl asked. Nomadrel could see the tears forming in her soft blue eyes.

“Yes,” he started, “I take it she went peacefully?” The girl nodded in confirmation. Still it brought no solace. He had hoped that he would have had time to get to know her. Even though he knew that with the ongoing war there was no real chance.

“You had just gone when she slipped away.” the little girl sobbed. Still she took him by the hand and led him forward.

The room was now aglow with lights. Mardrine lay on a bed of worn and tattered sheets. It was what lay on the wall just beyond her that caught his attention next.

It looked to be a message scrawled on the brick in blood:

A villain will have it when his time approaches

Now knowing the grim fate to come

to deliver himself a message

he returns to a powerful song

only he can understand

next to have his heart tested

yet only in time

While his new allies fall the

is he to see

nexus opens for a moment

the right time is a square 2529

enlightening the world

reality shall bend into the correct path

soon.

Vision is blocked as the book moves

in time

shadows hide the book

gathering in the dark places

ominous foes prepare

to overrun the world with monstrous creations

humanum novus and tantibus filii

One will lay down his life to the man of principle. Seek the cards. For without them the song shall not play and the hand of death shall see a new day. These things must come to pass or death herself shall move into the throne of power.

Nomadrel stood there taking it all in. This was the work of the seers. His father had often complained of their meddling in his affairs. Now he came to them with a question only to be met with riddles. This could not be his only answer. He would need to learn so much more.

Now with the children in mind Nomadrel departed. Moving though time like a shadow he watched history unfold. If they were to survive they would need a chunk of time safe from world devastation.

After many years of searching he finally settled on two points of time; near enough for plenty of overlap while not putting all his eggs in one basket.

Nearly one hundred and eighty years had passed for him while he traveled along the ebb and flow of time. With the locations selected it was time to return to Lee. Nomadrel concentrated and then he was on his way.

Nomadrel's Journey part I

Nomadrel’s Journey

I

Dahamadra was a beautiful city. It’s splendor and technology rivaled legend. One family rose above all in the cities creation; The family of Drovelin and Mardrine. Nomadrel knew the story from his childhood. He also knew that a new chapter was about to begin.

Lee had just left him to his training. Nomadrel found himself born anew with the recent acceptance of his Grandfather, Drovelin. For so long as he had lived it had been under the oppressive thumb of his father, Ragnarok.

His father and mother had always had been very cold to him in his early childhood. He could even remember the day their coldness became more. It had always troubled him about what he had happened that day. Still he knew he could not dwell on it now.

Nomadrel directed his focus. He knew he could manipulate time, but it was difficult. Even creating the illusion of multiple versions of himself by jumping had its risks. A second Nomadrel now existed because this.

‘One hundred years into the future should be fine.’ He thought. In the span of a hundred years he wouldn’t risk running into anyone he knew or that knew him.

In a flash he vanished and when the light had gone Nomadrel found himself in a wasteland. The city that he had once admired now lay in ruin; Overrun by the ravages of the wild reclaiming the land. Debris and ruin littered the once beautiful streets. Beyond the crumbling city buildings smoke rose to meet the clouds.

‘Have people survived?’ it was the only thought he could manage before he was thrown to the ground. An explosion ripped through a nearby building, or what remained of it, sending shards everywhere.

When the dust settled Nomadrel was staring into the face of two rough looking kids. Clearly there was a war going on. Their war torn faces were all the evidence he needed to confirm. Behind the two children stood a man in a hooded jacket, his face hidden in its shadow.

“Who are you?” Nomadrel asked, writing off the presence of the others.

“That’s not important. What is important is that you finish your training.” The hooded figure replied.

Nomadrel was thrown for a loop, “How did you know about that?”

“Because the survivors have been waiting for you to arrive.”

Nomadrel could feel the hooded man’s smile, even with his face hidden. The figure began to walk away. Nomadrel followed. Clearly word had been sent ahead from the day he left for training. 'But who sent word?' Nomadrel wondered

The man in the hood led him to a small hidden entrance off the beaten trail from the street. From the lay of the land and remains of buildings Nomadrel knew where they were headed. Valion’s workshop and ground zero for the battle that came; would come.

Beyond the door was a multitude of people huddling together. Each face told the same story; Loved ones lost, starvation, and destruction waiting at every turn. He had lost sight of the man in the hood somewhere in the crowd. As he scanned the gathering he spotted someone else he recognized among them.

It was his Grandmother, Mardrine. Her smile seemed to lighten the dark miasma that engulfed the group. She was much older than he remembered, but then he'd traveled a hundred years into the future.

She took him aside to a more private area in the complex. “Much lay ahead of you my Grandchild. Though this is that last time I shall see you , you will see me again.”

Her words troubled him greatly. “So I come here again in the…my future?”

“You must be careful of all that you are to learn.” She answered with a smile.

Deeper and deeper into the complex he followed Mardrine. It struck Nomadrel as odd that he could still feel the presence of the translation machine. He wondered how it had survived so long after the fall of Dahamadra.

The path they were on lead them to a large open area. There was little sign of life in the room. It had been purposefully kept clear. Dimly lit, Nomadrel began to see why it had been restricted. “What is this place?”

Mardrine sighed deeply, “These are all that remain of the once great city of Dahamadra. These tunnels were built before your birth and even Ragnarok’s. They are the only thing keeping us safe from him.”

“You mean we didn’t lock him away? What about Valion’s….?”

“No, we did, but there were many followers. His generals and lieutenants rose to free their lord. Luckily the machine was destroyed in the initial bombardment.” Her word hung heavy on her lips.

“So his followers…Where are they now?”

“Trying to perfect Drovelin’s work…They got a sample.” Mardrine looked away.

Nomadrel could almost see what she was thinking. “From where?” he inquired, knowing the answer wouldn’t come. “The last of it is going to be used on the children so they would have a fighting chance in the times to come.”

“Yes, but many of those injected were adults…Valion and others. Luckily the Tarot…wait…You told me I should stop talking about them.” She replied. Nomadrel was beginning to not like his future self. Apparently, Mardrine had more to say. “Take your next trip and you’ll find your path…you promised me that you would. Now go.”

Confused, Nomadrel thought it would be best if he returned now. Clearly this time in history was not safe. He had the children to consider and he was only here because of his training.

Creede Part IV

Part IV

            The glorious glow of the city in the dawn sky brought new life to Jeremy’s eyes.  He had always lived in the little town of Richmond and he had truly loved its ambiance.  But this was a big city.  For that matter, he was the first member of his family to set foot outside of the state since they came across the Atlantic ocean and settled.

            His heart swelled with anticipation.  He was rising above all expectations.  He could feel his heart sink as his mind quickly returned to Tiffany.  Her expectations could never be met.  The Gargantuan made sure of that.

            “Wanna grab a bite to eat?” Lawrence asked.  He could tell that Jeremy was still hurt by the loss of his love.  Jeremy nodded as Lawrence pulled in and parked at a restaurant called ‘Bruno Burger’.

            Many of the RBP ate there.  Some ate there so much they named burgers after them.  The two ordered and took a seat by the window.  The food went quickly as Jeremy was more interested in the view than the local cuisine.

            Once Jeremy stopped gazing mindlessly, he noticed that Lawrence seemed uneasy.  “Jitters?” He finally asked as he sipped as his soda.

            “You could say that,”  Lawrence said as he shifted his eyes to the streets, “There’s a lot of…stuff going on with my team right now.”
            Jeremy could sense that there was more to his anxiety than his team on a mission.  “You think that the Gargantuan is gonna take another swing at me?” he asked casually.

            “No, he’s delivered his message.  He expects us to come to him.”  Lawrence replied. 

            “Then what has you so nervous?”

            “It’s just something a friend told me just before I started with the RBP.”

            “What did your friend have to say?”

            Lawrence sighed as he steadied himself.  “He said many things, but mostly he spoke of the days to come when one of us would have to lay down his life for the man of principle.”

            “And you think that’s me?”

            “There is a definite possibility.”

            “But you are acting as though it’s fact.”

            “Well it is…Creede.”

            It suddenly dawned on Jeremy what Lawrence’s friend had meant by ‘the man of principle. “Well who is going to lay down their life for me? And why would they?”

            “My friend, Nomadrel, seems to think that it’s me,”  The table fell silent as Jeremy digested both food and information.  “So how does Nomadrel know all this?”

            “If you get the chance to meet him don’t be fooled.  He’s older than he looks.  It’s a time traveler thing…”

            “Time Travel?  So where is he now? I’d love to meet him.”

            “Dead, but don’t be surprised if he turns up here or there.”

            With breakfast out of the way they made their way to Headquarters.  Jeremy was impressed by the splendor that the building offered.

            The top three floors required retinal scans for access.  The elevator came to a halt on the top floor labeled RBP offices.  Jeremy wondered what marvels lay on the floors labeled ‘other’ and ‘Training’.

            Most of the offices looked like nothing more than glorified barracks and bachelor pads.  “Everyone’s out on assignment right now so it’s just you, me, and CEBUS.” Lawrence chuckled.

            Jeremy recognized that name right away.  “You mean Timothy Cebus is here?  I’ve read all about his work with Cybertronics.  Could I meet him?”

            “Yeas sure, well sort of,” Lawrence responded as he escorted Jeremy to the war room.

            As they entered the monitors sprang to life.  “Greetings Agent Grey.  May I inquire as to the gentleman accompanying you?”  The computer asked.

            “As detailed in ‘Project: Quintessence’, here is Jeremy Creede,” Lawrence looked over at a very confused Jeremy, “Jeremy, this is CEBUS.”

            “But that’s just a computer…”
            “It’s a long story…”

            Lawrence hurried Jeremy back down the hall and into an empty room.  They only items in the room were a bed and a desk with a large book resting on it.  At first Jeremy mistook it for a New York City phone book.  “Tonight,” Lawrence started, “You study…and tomorrow we start the hard stuff.  If you need anything just ask CEBUS and he’ll get you there.”  Then Jeremy was alone.

            Hours passed and he thumbed mindlessly at the book.  Jeremy felt his mind returning to Richmond.  To her.  It was at that moment that he had an idea.

            “CEBUS, are you there?”

            “Yes Mr. Creede, how may I assist you?”

            “You can tell me everything you know about the Ministry of Carpatha and the Gargantuan.”

            “That information is classified.  Only agents have access to our database.” Cebus replied.

            “Is there any way I can get access?”

            “Read your training manual…”

            Jeremy slammed the manual on the desk. “I don’t have time for this,”  Jeremy argued, “The Gargantuan is out there and I owe it to her.”

            “I am aware of the incident in Kentucky, “CEBUS replied, “The Ministry would love to have a go at you.  Maybe they’d manage to capture you, brainwash you, or torture…doesn’t that sound fun.”

            “OK, OK! I get it.  I’m not going to get my chance at the Gargantuan until I prove myself here.”  Jeremy knew that arguing with a computer was getting him nowhere.  It was time for a stroll.

            The midday sun beat down on his face as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.  Florence New York was unlike any place he had ever seen before.  And though it was awe inspiring he felt a crushing weight on his heart.  It didn’t take him long to come to a decision. ‘Time to go huntin.’

            He knew Lawrence was probably right, but he couldn’t just sit there while the Gargantuan went free.  ‘What if he goes after someone else?’ he thought to himself, ‘He has to answer for his crimes.’  His pace quickened as he rounded the corner and hailed a cab.

            A short drive later, Jeremy arrived in the south end of town.  He got a good look at it on his way in.  ‘If there’s a criminal element to be found in Florence, its roots start here.’ He thought to himself.

            His first stop was at a dive called The Rusty Musket.  One look at this place and you knew exactly what you were in for.

            The place didn’t look too bad if you ignored the years of dirt and grime on the windows.  Clearly it had been left to keep the light out.  And the smell wasn’t much better.  Jeremy equated it to standing in an overused porto-potty in the peak of the summer heat.  His nostrils filled his eyes with water.  He wasn’t even sure he’d be able to keep his breakfast down, but he continued anyway.

            He stepped up to the bar and casually ordered a beer.  He was banking on the fact that this wasn’t the sort of place that bothered with checking I.D.’s.  And he was right.

            With a big swig of beer Jeremy approached the meanest looking brute in the bar.  It wasn’t hard to find him as he was also the most malodorous.

            His shaved head and leather jacket were the only the first signs of the exchange to come.  Upon closer inspection ‘short’ and ‘stocky’ were added to the list of ‘Things that have shaped a bad attitude’.

            “Name’s Jeremy.” He said as he sat down across from the bald man.

            “And?...” the man answered without showing the slightest bit of interest in anything but his drink.

            “I was hoping you had some information I’m looking for.”

            “That depends.”

            “How much do you want?” Jeremy said as he reached for his pocket.

            “Money? No,” the bald man said finally looking up from his drink, “I need a favor.”

            “I need to know everything about where to find the Ministry of Carpatha and the whereabouts of the Gargantuan.”

            “The Ministry…” the man replied as his eyes became as cold as steel, “Who do you work for?”

            “No one,” Jeremy answered trying to remain cool, “I’ve got a score to settle.”

            “Well, My name’s Paul,” the man said as his demeanor seemed to relax, “I might as well tell you my name since you’ve got a death wish.  I think it’s only polite.”

            “So what do I have to do for this information, Paul?”

            Paul leaned back arrogantly in his seat.  It was clear to Jeremy that Paul held all the cards. “Ok,” he started with a smile, “I need you to visit an old friend of mine and pick up a book for me.”

            “That’s it? Go get a book?”

            “In a manner of speaking.”

            Jeremy knew where this was going.  Every instinct in his body told him to  get up and walk out. “So by ‘get’ you mean steal.”

            Paul nodded, “You up for it?”

            “Where do I go?”

            Paul reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and tossed a slip of paper to him.  Jeremy started blankly at the address, date, and time.  He had seen the address before, but couldn’t remember where he’d seen it.

            When he looked up again Paul was gone.  Jeremy wasn’t sure what to do next.  For the first time since meeting Lawrence, Jeremy agreed with him.  Training would have been best.  His only option now was to return to RBP headquarters or take a chance on a tip by stealing a book.

            Jeremy knew that his actions would most likely put more blood on his hands.  Clearly Lawrence’s friend, Nomadrel, had concerns about the immediate future.  But what bothered Jeremy was the way in with his information was delivered.  It sounded more like a riddle than fact:

‘One will lay down his life for the man of principle.’ 

            It was his decision to make.  It was his future.  It was his vengeance.  Jeremy rose from his seat and headed back out into the street.

To be continued…

Birth in Blood

Birth in Blood

by Lloyd D. Kelsey III

            Not many vampires can say that they have met the infamous Dracula, the infamous Vlad the impaler.  Even fewer can say they witnessed his rule.  Though you will never find my name in the history books, I was there.

            My name is Victor DeSallus, son of Hugo DeSallus.  My father served his lordship until the fall of the empire.  Having known the true nature of his lordship my family was bound to secrecy in his service.  It was this knowledge that set me on my dark path.  This is my story as it truly began in the spring of 1462.

            The bitter winds blew across the kingdom of Wallachia chilling ever thing to its core.  Spring time was no friend to my country.  Even the trees seemed to huddle together for warmth.  His lordship’s last order was for me to escape the Ottoman forces and he would send for me when the time was right. 

I lost my family in the first siege of the empire.  They suffered in the way that Vlad  had brought suffering upon his people, despite the fact they were mere servants in his court.  In true Vlad the impaler style all of those who served him directly were decapitated, heads placed on spikes along the castle walls.   Though Vlad was a cruel man he had been nothing but kind to my family.

As a boy of fourteen I was no match for the invading forces of the Ottoman Empire.  In my panic to escape I had become separated from the few other servants who managed to escape.  I fled to the west hoping to find a safe river passage though Hungary.  The real problem was Matthias Corvinus.

Matthias was no friend of Wallachia and his armies had battled Vlad many times.  It knew that it was unlikely that I would be recognized in my travels.  After all, who’s face could out shine Vlad?

No sooner had I crossed the border than I was dodging Matthias’ brute squads.  With the inevitable fall of the Wallachia ruler Matthias had ordered that all those who had served Vlad were to be executed on sight.  He had anticipated the migration of those trying to escape death from the Ottoman Empire.  The brute squads’ task was made even easier by the distinct brand that all servants received on the back of their hands.  It was only when being hunted that I saw the truth of it.  To Vlad, all people were nothing but cattle.

The brand on my left hand was purple from the cold.  I knew that I’d need a good pair of gloves if I was to stand any chance of survival.  Yet gloves were no solid answer to my troubles.  The brutes made regular habits of harassing anyone who even looked like they were hiding a brand.  On many occasions I watched helplessly as women were stripped bare and ravaged for falling suspect in the eyes of the brute squads.  Men were luckier, they would just be beaten to near death.

In my travels I found the worst in mankind.  Those who managed to catch a glimpse of my brand either ran in terror or ran to the brute squad in hopes of receiving a reward.  It didn’t take long for me to lose faith in my fellow man.

Food was nowhere near as difficult to find.  Most inns and taverns were accustomed to beggars and some were even hospitable enough to provide a meager meal.

It wasn’t until I neared the border of Austria that I became alarmed.  It was in a small village a few days travel from the border when a brute squad, that had been following me, finally caught up with me.  As I was coming into the village I spotted them coming up on my flank.  I quickly hid in the rotted out of a nearby tree.  It was only a matter of moments until screams erupted from the village.  Using all the stealth and cunning a fourteen year old had I approached.  I was horrified by what I saw.

The brute squad was forcing families out of their homes and was now threatening the lives of their children.  They knew I was in the area and only assumed that the village was harboring me.  They demanded that I be turned over to their custody. 

Men and women pleaded with them that there had been no travelers matching my description.  From all of their accounts their last visitor had been an old man filled with lunacy and stories of the ‘Children of the Night’.  The brutes took no sympathy on them as they began to slaughter each child one by one. 

Other children were gutted alive.  Then there were those whose deaths were so horrible to this day I dare not think on them.  There is much weakness in the past.

I knew that I would find no sanctuary in this place.  The brute squad had made sure of that.  This also meant that I had no chance of securing food.  This was going to be a problem.  I had been traveling for some time.  Two days ago I had ran out of food. 

I pulled my coat in tight and prepared for the long night ahead.

Morning came with the strange smell of something burning.  As I came to my feet I could already see a large fire that resided in the middle of the village.  Though I could not see clearly for the brilliance of the morning sun I could see that the villagers were working quickly to add something to the fire.  You could imagine my shock when I discovered they were tossing the lifeless bodies of the brute squad on the fire.  I felt the need to wander into the village.

I made my way around to the west side of the village and headed in thinking that they would be more receptive to a traveler if he wasn’t the reason their children were slaughtered.  As I passed the first humble dwelling I noticed one thing.  They were all staring at me as if I were a ghost.  Pathways cleared as I made my way to the stink of the human bon fire.

Standing alone by the fire was a lone priest.  His grizzly features were chilled by the morning air and the stink of burning flesh.  His ghost white hair stood as a reminder of all the untold stories of his life.

After a short time the priest came over to me “Where are you headed, my child?”  Clearly the priest was suspicious, despite his alternate route into the village. 

“Home, if this is sign of the plague.”  I replied making a quick gesture to the west.

“Worse, I fear,” the priest said as he lowered his head, “I have seen many miracles and much darkness in my life, but never the work of a demon such as this.”  I wondered what he meant by this, but I was not willing to push the subject.

The priest was quick to surrender this information given the severity of the situation.  “These men we burn today were responsible for the deaths of many children in this village.  They made bed in the temple as ordered by King Matthias Corvinus.  Yet during the night each were taken and there blood drained from their bodies.  The only injuries they sustained were two puncture wounds on their necks.”  The priest was obviously shaken as he took a small flask from his robes and took a drink of its contents.  “I’ve heard stories of things like this…the monsters in the night.  As they stories go there are men who have become the devil’s cohorts and drink the blood of mortals that they may live forever.”

These sorts of stories were no stranger to my ears.  As I child I too had heard these.  Mostly I attributed these stories as a means to keep children from wandering off in the woods late at night.  These creatures were called strigoi.

“There’s some ting else,” the priest continued, “the creature left a note for someone.”

“Who?” I asked without hesitation.

“It says it’s for a Victor DeSallus.”  The priest paused as he looked at the shock and realization spreading across my face. “You’re him, aren’t you? DeSallus, the boy the brute squad was here for, aren’t you?”

It was too late for denial.  I was only shocked by the priest reaction. “I will tell no one, but in return I ask you to leave and take this cursed note with you.”  The priest forced the letter into my hand and ushered me away from the villagers as they threw the few remaining bodies on the fire.  “I do not know what it says, but if last night is a sign of how this creature regards you…I dare not cross you.”

We made our way into a small wooden building that clearly served as the village’s place of worship.  The priest took me to a small room in the back and began filling a sack with loaves of bread, cheese, a bottle of fine wine, jug of water, and many other useful items for travel.

I left the village with my letter in hand and fear in my heart.  There had been no so signs through the night of a fight or even so much as a sound.  It was terrifying to imagine that a creature such as this existed and even more so that it was interested in me.

The seal on the letter also added to my unease.  As a servant to Vlad I had seen many royal seals, but nothing like this.  It depicted two faces.  One face bore a sinister smile, while the other was tormented and screaming.  Even the paper itself seemed to bare strange qualities.  It was of a much higher quality than anything I had ever seen.  A large part of me prayed that it was from Vlad, though I knew better.

I waited until I was well away from the village before I opened the letter, settling down for lunch at a small babbling brook.  The smell of bread and cheese filled my nostrils with joy.  I hadn’t eaten in three days and my hunger pains overwhelmed me.  So I ate and enjoyed the peaceful play of the water of the brook.

After my belly was full of food and good wine I opened the letter.  It read:

‘Dear Mister DeSallus,

What a beautiful creature you are.  Never in all my years have I encountered one with your determination and loyalty.

I will be assisting you in your travels.  I would suggest France.  It is lovely this time of year.

You will see me soon and provided you cooperate, I will be giving you a gift.

Should you pass through that village again please thank them for their silence on the matter of the brute squad.  I will spare their lives as they not be spoiling my little game.

M. P.’

It sent chills down my spine.  This was not a message from Vlad, but a message from a creature who shouldn’t exist.  Yet there he was leaving messages for me.  Had word been sent by Vlad, I would have been given orders on where to return to his service.

I stood on one decision.  I could take the stranger’s advice and visit France or I could do my best to avoid him.  I was unsure if it could even be done.  After all he had tracked me this far with seemingly no effort.  So I decided and France became my destination.

I went as far as I could before night fall.  Avoiding encounters in villages, I stuck to the wilderness.  I hoped that France offered warmer climates than the cold I had experienced thus far.  Luckily the priest had the foresight to throw a warm blanket in the bag he had prepared.  For that I am eternally grateful.

There were no stars in the sky that night.  The clouds hung in the sky as if to drown out the heavens.  I did my best to sleep.  When I did sleep the nightmares came.  From the dark recesses of nothingness came the tormented faces of the brute squad.  I watched as hands, that weren’t mine, slaughtered them one by one. 

I awoke in a cold sweat and my heart racing.  The small fire I had started was now blazing with warmth.  In fact, someone had thrown more wood on the fire and he was sitting directly opposite of me.

His clothes were tattered and worn.  His mangy black hair hid cold lifeless eyes that refused to reflect the light of the fire.

“Who are…” were the only words I managed before he spoke.

“My name is of no consequence at the moment, but you may call me Hailig.”

I recognized it for its roots what is to you known as Germany.  A gruesome smirk emerged on his face revealing his elongated teeth.

“What you should be wondering is why I’m helping you.  You mortals and your need for unimportant knowledge.” He continued.

“Why then? Has my Lord Vlad sent you?”

“Boy, I assure you I do not work for Vlad.” He said as he sat across from me motionless except when his lips moved to speak. “Are you ready for your gift?” Hailig rose to his feet as I hesitantly nodded yes.

Without warning he moved towards me.  His movement was so fast he looked like nothing but a blur.  He wrapped his arms around me restraining my arms.  Within seconds I could feel those elongated teeth pierce my neck.  It was terrifying as remembered the bodies of the brute squad as they were being tossed on a fire.  Now the Strigoi had his teeth in me.  I wondered if I would see the light of another day.  This thought, however, was surpassed by the maddening ecstasy of his bite, but soon the ecstasy passed.  Only the madness remained.

As he continued to drain me the nightmares came.  I collapsed and spun full circle into the abyss of the visions.  It was pure insanity.  I watched iron beasts dominate kingdoms.  I watched fire reign down from the skies as it tore countless people apart.  Yet beyond it all I saw a face.  It was a face that I was not supposed to see.

“You have seen what should have not.  The master’s eyes are now upon you and his madness shall be your blessing.”  Came the ominous voice of Hailig.

I came to in a nice warm bed.  In a nearby fireplace a fire crackled filling the room with dancing light.  On the bed stand lay a small pouch of medicine and a bottle of wine.  I immediately moved to the only window in the room. 

France was truly beautiful in the spring.  It was a dismal start for spring as many of the trees were just showing signs of new life.

“Are you pleased with your room?” a familiar voice asked.  I nodded as I turned to observe the room.  Hailig sat in an elegant armchair by the fire.  I swore he hadn’t been there a moment ago.  “Do you know what I am?” he asked.  I truly had no idea except for the stories I had heard.

“I know what you are.”

“Do not tempt me, boy! Say what you are thinking or I shall pluck your tongue from your head.”  His movement quickened as he became a blur in the room.  Shadows now covered his face leaving only his eyes, now glowing bright red.  I tripped and fell to the floor where I quickly curled into a ball screaming, “Strigoi!”

I felt him hovering over my quivering body.  I was still very weak from his earlier attack.  I could feel his teeth as they slid down into the meat of my neck again.  And again I found myself confronting the darkness of nightmarish visions.  As I slipped away I could hear him say, “Strigoi is but one of our many names.”

Strangely enough this is where the tale of my birth ends.  There are many who think they know how to destroy us.  Many have tried and they have paid a dear price for their efforts.  This was my birth in blood.