Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

In a dark room, with a dark purpose, Count Dracula drew the Devil’s sigil. Fire burst as a voice frozen in ash spoke, “a call? I haven’t been called in three million years. How did you get this number? Oh, it’s you…” said the Devil, then he laughed.

“My Lord?” Dracula asked out of confusion.

Satan kept laughing, “hold on, hold on,” he laughed harder.

“I have returned to claim the throne of Heaven,” Dracula began. Satan laughed harder still. “What is so funny?!” Dracula questioned.

“You will never claim the throne of Heaven, and I have already been subdued,” Satan replied. “The Wyyvern Knight of Deceit comes for you.”

“Help me claim the throne, and you will be at full strength again,” Dracula insisted.

“Nope,” Satan replied. “My hands are tied, I’m employed now,” he showed the father of Vampires his Wyyvern weapons. “I’ll be seeing you soon if you’re lucky.” With cackling laughter and an explosive burst of fire, Satan disappeared.

Dracula brushed a flame off his shoulder, “Fine, I will do it myself.”

Count Dracula had become more powerful than he had ever before with Willpower to challenge even the Nekolich. However, Alexandra, the Wyyvern Bastard Sword of Vampirism, could sense a more powerful Vampire. One who was half human, “Could it be? Has the heir to the Queen’s throne returned?”

*          *

Ty held the door open and let Rya enter the Rattler Inn before him. The two walked to the counter slowly, they were not in a hurry. “Is slim in his room?” Rya asked the barkeep.

The Coyote keeping the bar swallowed, “um, yeah.” he walked them to a room on the top floor way in the back corner shaking as he put the key in the lock and turned it.

The door creaked open, and a voice made Rya and Ty’s fur stand on end, “Barkeep, you have parkinson’s? Or are you just trying to get my attention?”

“I’m uh, sorry Kie…” a gunshot interrupted the barkeep, who fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

“Do not call me that,” Slim growled. “Rya, Ty, what can I do for you?” the Western Fennec asked with a voice that froze their spines.

“Skinner requests your assistance,” Ty swallowed.

“Again? haven’t I done enough?” Slim asked.

“We think your father has become involved,” Rya replied.

“Interesting,” Johnny Slim leaned forward, revealing himself from the shadows that hid him. He was six feet tall excluding his fennec ears. A height inherited from his great-great-grandfather, “and where, pray tell, is my father now?” he asked with a sinister grin.

*          *

“Did you have anything to do with this?” Aleister questioned.

“Wow, I am just being blown up today,” Satan replied.

“Why can’t I see the ultimate Fate of the Lands?” Aleister demanded an answer.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Satan replied.

“But you know how did,” Aleister rebutted.

“You can’t see him, can you?” Satan asked. “I wonder, do you even know of his existence?”

“Who?” Aleister was becoming impatient. “Tell me who!”

“Your great-great-grandson was born separated from Fate,” Satan replied. “He is like you in every way. Well, like who you used to be anyway.  Aleister’s eyes widened at the thought of what his offspring could get away with and then he disappeared. Satan slouched upon his throne, “I’m letting the next one go to voicemail.”

“Nice throne,” Edward interrupted.

“Edward Theodore Gein,” Satan replied. “What do you want?”

“Who?” Edward questioned.

“Ed Gein was a human serial killer who made other humans into furniture long before the beginning of this multiverse,” Satan replied. “Now he is my throne.”

“Sounds somewhat familiar,” Edward remembered Sedric Carvor and Skinner from his first job as a Wyyvern Knight.

“He got what he deserved, as did Sedric Theodore Carvor,” Satan brandished his cape, it was made of Carvor’s flesh. “Now what do you want?”

“To leave?” Edward thought it would be obvious.

“You cannot until twenty-four hours have passed?” Satan replied as though it should have been obvious.

“It hasn’t been twenty-four hours since I arrived yet?!” Edward questioned. “How long has it been?”

“Twelve. Time flows differently through every Realm, and your clock is teeth-gnashingly slow,” Satan replied. “I suggest you get comfortable. You are Hell, so Hell belongs to you. Go check out your Iron Ram’s new Hall, or perhaps catch up with your Warpriests.”

“I have more than one?” Edward had not noticed the additional prayers.

“You need to open those giant ears of yours and listen to those who worship you,” Satan suggested. “Now go away, you have begun to irritate me.”

*          *

“Dracula!” Zesrial yelled in righteous anger, her lighting violently striking the battlefield, but there was no answer. Before her was an army of ten thousand Vampires, a mere fraction of their numbers. She got their attention. Her wings folded around her body like robes with her lightning surging within them. She unsheathed her bow and broke it in half holding the two pieces like daggers as chains forged of her lightning connected to them wrapping around her wrists. They all looked at her, then they rushed her. A loud boom as the Vampires broke the sound barrier and she knew it was time. Instantly punching through the light barrier, Zesrial shot forward on a bolt of her lightning. Upon impacting the Vampire army, she split, chaining her lightning into them. Any Vampire touched by her lightning was turned to ash, but not sent to Hell. She tore them from existence in her anger as she shot from Vampire to Vampire across the battlefield in a massive zig-zag pattern. When she finally stopped the Vampires were pulling back, then she felt a rumbling beneath her bare feet.

*          *

In the cold and snow, Edward felt most comfortable, and Hell had become a tundra. As he walked the snow-covered blizzard-ridden frozen wasteland, he came across a small wooden shack. He opened the door and walked in, it was much larger on the inside, “wait a second. Victor?”

“Edward,” Victor shouted from behind a randomly placed bar wiping out a glass. “Come meet your newest Warpriest,” he gestured to the hooded figure of autumn red fur.

Edward walked up and took a seat next to the figure, “why is my once beautiful Hellfire now teal snow?” a familiar voice asked him.

“It’s Hellsnow,” Edward replied.

The figure turned to face Edward, “It’s your snow.”

“Ember Fray,” Edward smiled at the sight of a familiar face. “I am Hell.”

“I know,” Ember replied as she returned to her drink. She took a swig, “otherwise I wouldn’t be here. Now Victor tells me you have a problem I may be able to help you with.”