Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

Entry 2
A church is simple. Some brick, some mortar, some wood. All you have to do is put it together, and God will listen to you. It has been a few days since I have written anything. The things that have happened to me have happened so fast I can hardly remember the details. I should be dead now, I only recently awoke, bandaged and stitched, with the memory of a thousand wolves rushing me with eyes glowing red. The same red that hues within the eyes of a hungry Vampire. Then a bolt of purple lightning, too brilliant to be anything evil, struck me, I thought God had finally called me home. I hope to find out the truth of what is going on here, and I pray that God will help us.
Vladamir closed his journal, got himself dressed, and made his bed. He left the room he awoke in, there were paintings of God along the walls of the hallway leading to the next door. The last supper, the crucifixion of Jesus, other miracles, and images of the golden city itself. He opened the door at the end of the hall and entered to the right of the altar of the church he was in. Many people sat in the pews, some injured and some dying. Those who were still unharmed aided the wounded and those who could hold a weapon guarded the entrances and watched the stain-glass windows. To the left of the altar sat a man wearing a hood and a cloak made of grey feathers. He was talking with another man who wore a large hat and armored trenchcoat. The man in the hood, ever so slightly, pulled the point of his hood down as Vladamir took notice of him, the man with the hat did the same. Vladamir ignored this but kept an eye on the men. A preacher performed the sacrament saying, “Take and eat, This Is my body, given freely for the forgiveness of your sins,” purple lightning began to surge outside as the preacher continued. “Take and drink, This Is my blood, freely poured out for the forgiveness of your sins.” A bolt of purple lightning evaporated all the sacramental wine and turned all the unleavened bread into dust. Zesrial stood in the center of the people pushed back and knocked down by her entry. It was no longer real. God had gone long before the creation of the Realm that now holds this World. She never wanted to tell anyone the God they worship does not exist. Those words simply leave wounds that do not heal, but they deserved to know.
Before anyone could react, “Zesrial!” shouted the hooded man with the grey feathered cloak, “the name means, thy kingdom come.” He stood up but kept his hood over his face. He seemed drunk. “Behold, there she is,” he gestured to her as he walked closer, “the golden city with an empty throne.”
Zesrial did not think she would ever hear that voice again, “Michael?”
“Heaven,” Michael replied as though he were disappointed in her.
The people looked to Zesrial, and Michael made it so they could see her for what she really was, “Thy Kingdom has come,” the people began to say to one another as they saw what Michael made possible for them to see. “God has heard our prayers…”
“No!” Zesrial’s pain could be heard in her voice and seen in her tears, “God is no more and has not been since before the creation of your world. She looked at Michael, “how do they know of him?”
Michael tried to take a swig from a sacramental wine bottle, but found it dried out like the rest, “fuck you.” The words cut through Zesrial like a knife. “You don’t listen. You never fucking listen, do you? When you enter that throne room, and we both know you do, you hear echoes, don’t you? Those echoes all come from here. Every last fucking one. Who else would hear their prayers now, but you?”
“Those prayers are to be answered by the one who sits on the Throne!” Zesrial argued.
“He gave you the throne!” Michael shouted. “When he gave you that form. You are Heaven, and the Throne of Heaven belongs to Heaven. It has always been yours.”
“How do they know of him?” Zesrial asked having noticed the fear and concern of the Humans around her.
“This world needed something to believe in, it had nothing,” Michael began. “Human’s and Vampires were at war when I came here. It was I who found Zurina, and it was we who begged the Nekolich to make her into a Wyyvern Knight. Despite his obvious hatred toward Vampirism, he agreed. Zurina and I spread the old doctrine of our long lost Lord across the world. Zurina, using Alexandra, the Wyyvern Bastard Sword of Vampirism, took all thoughts of evil from the Vampires creating peace. When Dracula murdered her the evil poured back to the Vampires. Soon after, all of them were under his influence again.”
Zesrial glared at Michael, “that hood. It was never like you to cover your head. Why now?”
Michael unfurled his wings which had been his feathered cloak, “I will always be yours, my Kingdom. Until I am no more.”
Michael flew out the hole in the damaged ceiling, leaving Zesrial alone with the humans. “So there is no God?” one of the children asked her with wide and frightened eyes. She did not know how to answer.
“For you, there never was one. The God you believe in has been gone longer than your world has existed,” the man with the hat and the coat replied for her. “If you are looking for someone to believe in then believe in her,” he pointed to Zesrial. “She is the Kingdom of Heaven, and she has come to fight for you.”
“Who are you?” Zesrial asked the man.
“My name is Van Helsing, and this is the Wyyvern of the cursed,” a creature like a viper on feathered wings made of silver perched on his shoulder with its tail wrapped around his neck like a scarf, “Gabriel. I named him after the one who gave his life for me years ago.” Then he put a hand on Zesrial’s shoulder and smiled, “He told me that silver, Blessed water, and other Holy relics still work and only still work because of you” he said to her, “You are stronger than you know, all you need to do is start listening.”
Vladamir sat in the back corner taking all of this in, “No God?” he thought to himself, “then in whose image are we made?” He watched Zesrial, other than her wings, now furled into robes, and her lightning she seemed as human as he was.
* *
“My Lord,” a dark-haired and armored Vampire kneeled before his father. “This new Archangel is far too powerful. She is removing our people from existence with every lightning bolt. The creatures of this world have proven useful in stopping her advance, but we cannot take control of the skies while she remains.”
Dracula sat upon the late Vampire queen’s throne and said nothing. Running his long slender fingers threw an enthralled wolf’s fur he dug his nails through its flesh. The wolf sat there and took it, unable to resist Dracula’s hold. With the blood held in his nails, Dracula tasted it. “This is what my children have been forced to drink?” He spat the blood out and waved his hand. A Human, scared and crying, involuntarily walked towards him. “Oh, it is all right, my dear. Come closer,” the Human girl involuntarily did as she was told. “Now show me your neck,” the girl struggled to resist the sudden overwhelming urge to tilt her head and move her dress collar away from her neck. She could not. What was worse was he forced her to watch him as he allowed his Venom to cause her blood to bubble out. He savored every last drop as the Human girl slowly became a dried husk. “Now that is good virgin blood,” dropping the girl to the floor he stood up and examined Alexandra closely.
“My Lord, what are your orders?” the kneeling Vampire asked.
Dracula did not answer, instead, he plunged the Wyyvern Bastard Sword of Vampirism into the Kneeling Vampire’s chest. The blade absorbed the slain Vampire until there was nothing left. “You are relieved, my son. I will deal with this new Archangel myself.” He turned his attention to a Vampiric guard posted before his throne, “You,” he walked over to him and looked into his eyes. “Let me see your wings.” The guard unfurled the black and red cape on his back which was his wings and spread them. “Magnificent, my son. The sun will set soon, but we will give the Humans one night of peace. Go now and blot out the moon, we cannot have those Werebeasts getting involved.” The Guard nodded in acknowledgment of his father’s orders and took to the skies as the sun set bringing the darkness of night. A small army of one hundred Vampires followed him, blotting out the moons glow. Dracula fixed the collar of his cape, “I think it is time I meet this new Archangel of black wings and purple lightning.
* *
Mordecai aimed his revolver and pulled back the hammer, but could not bring himself to pull the trigger. “Come now, father, kill your only son and put an end to my evil schemes once and for all,” Slim taunted. “I will not give you another chance,” he waited for the gunshot, but it never came. “Pathetic, live your life knowing you could have stopped me here and now,” with that Slim started walking South.
Mordecai threw his gun and yelled to his boy, “Kieth Jonathan Dimir!” Slim’s ear twitched at the sound of the name. How he hated it. Mordecai walked towards his son arms open. Slim turned around and drew his revolver, pulling the hammer back and aiming it at his father. Mordecai just stared back at him.
“I will kill you last,” said Slim before holstering his gun and continuing to walk South.
Mordecai fell to his knees and looked up, “I know there is still good in him, please save him from himself,” he prayed, not knowing if anyone was listening.
* *
Katherine awoke to a nightmare to find herself lying next to a smoldering fire with a Sergal she did not recognize lying across from her. Then she saw the cup made of ice and remembered everything. Then Dolan awoke to a hug and tears, “Uncle Dolan,” Katherine was so happy to see him again. “Where is mother and father?” she asked him.
“On their way, little one,” he replied. “Now come on, we have far to travel and time is of the essence.” The two put out what was left of the fire, rolled up the blankets Dolan had set out for them to sleep on and headed South.
“Where are we going?” Katherine asked. Before Dolan could answer, “am I to learn your magic?” she asked.
Dolan laughed, “yes, child. Now come on, we need to move.” Dolan had no idea where the other three elder Sergals were or how far behind them their enemies might be. He only knew where to go and what to do.
“Who’s your friend,” Katherine had become captivated by the beauty of the dove-like creature made of purest light flying around Dolan.
“I am blind now, I needed someone to be my eyes,” Dolan replied.
Katherine had not noticed, “What happened?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Dolan replied.
“What’s its name?” she asked.
“I haven’t given it one yet,” Dolan replied.
Then Katherine heard a voice in her head speaking the Wyyvern’s true name to her. She started to laugh, “I don’t think I can pronounce that.”
“Pronounce what?” Dolan asked.
“He just said his name, didn’t you hear him?” Katherine replied.
“No,” Dolan replied. “It’s a he?”
“Yup,” Katherine started to laughed, “and his name is really long and weird.”
The Wyyvern flew down and perched on Katherine’s shoulder, “I think he likes you,” Dolan smiled. Anything illuminated by the Wyyvern’s light was visible to him and seeing Katherine’s smiling face warmed his heart with new hope for the future.
* *
Vladamir stood up and approached Zesrial. When Zesrial recognized him for what he was, she rushed him, grabbed him by the throat, and flew up to the top of the crucifix behind the altar. Holding him up she looked into his eyes, “why did you pray to me?”
“My people are in danger,” Vlad replied. “I prayed for help.”
“I wonder which people you mean, hybrid,” Zesrial replied.
Vladamir’s eyes grew wide with confusion and fear, “What did you call me?”
“Put him down, My Lady,” interrupted a familiar voice. “A half Vampire could be a useful ally.”
Zesrial dropped Vlad and turned to the one who spoke to her, “Pip?”
“I bring news from your Wall,” Pip continued. “Everything has been set, you need only summon him.”
“How do I summon him,” Zesrial asked.
“The old-fashioned way,” Pip replied.
“Wait!” Vlad shouted. He had seen something through the hole in the ceiling and ran outside to confirm it. “They are blotting out the moon,” remembering his friends among the Werewolves of the North he grabbed his sword and strapped his crossbow to his arm and started to run North.
“Wait!” Pips shouted. “We’ve already sent someone to your Werewolves. She will make sure they survive the attack.”
“Besides,” Van Helsing interrupted, “We need you here.”
“You need me?” Vlad asked. “I’m nobody. I did not even know I was a Vampire until a few moments ago.”
“Do you know where your blood came from?” Van asked him. Vlad gave Van a look of, it should have been obvious that he did not. “Your mother, Vladamir. Son of Zurina and heir to the Vampiric throne.” Vlad became woozy, this was too much for him to comprehend. “You are this World’s only hope.” Vlad fainted. “Are you sure your friend can take on that many Vampires and save the Werewolves by herself?” Van asked Pip as he tended to the now unconscious Vladamir Korvachoff.
“Clearly you have never met a Fennec Fox of the Northlands,” Pip replied.
“Who did you send?” Zesrial asked.
“Go clear the skies and see for yourself,” Pip suggested. “They will need the moon’s light.”
* *
“Everyone behind me!” Greyhiem Stonebreaker shouted to his people as the Vampires closed in. Without the light of the moon, they were helpless against the Vampires. Like shadows quick as lightning, the Vampires came from every direction. The red hue of a hungry Vampires eyes glowed over Greyhiem’s shoulder, but before he could react, it exploded in a mist of blood.
The Vampires stopped attacking and the guard Dracula had chosen approached. “Who did that?” he asked. “Who among you is capable of killing my kin in a single blow?”
A paw-like hand of thick beige fur with six-inch claws tore through his body from behind and held his heart in front of him. “Me,” said a woman’s voice as she ripped her hand out from the Vampires back and crushed its still beating heart. Keeping the claws on her right hand out she unsheathed her short-sword, Blessed by Edward’s snow, with her left and, “Iron Ram,”ed a Vampire rushing at her from the side. It exploded instantly in a mist of blood and the force of the attack left a smoldering path through the woods in that direction. Then she stabbed her short-sword into another Vampire and it turned to ice, shattering as she ripped her blade from it. “Who’s next,” she said as a bolt of purple lightning shattered the shroud of Vampiric darkness that hid the moon’s light. Immediately, Greyhiem jumped into the fight taking his monstrous Werewolf form. his people followed him. Zesrial looked down and saw her, Edwards idol. A legend from before his time. She knew she must have done to her what she did to Snow and brought her back. Sarah looked up and smiled, “do not worry, My lady. This war has only just begun.”