In the dark country of Transylvania, there were many strange things that could chill one's soul. Many of the stories that mankind tended to dismiss as legend were part of the historical tapestry of this land. Tales of ghosts, werewolves, and monsters had been played out in reality here. The wise (though outsiders would call them 'the fools') knew the tales. They knew these tales to be true, and they feared the forces that were featured in those tales. However, there was one thing that they feared above all else. High above the countryside rose a castle defiantly in the sky. However, it was not the stone and mortar that instilled the fear within the populace. It was the master of that castle, a tyrant who had ruled from there for centuries. Once he was Vlad Tepes, Voivode of Wallachia. Now and forevermore, he was Dracula.

From his position inside one of the castle's turrets, Dracula surveyed the countryside below. Since re-establishing himself in his ancestral home, the locals had come to know that the night was once again unsafe. Dracula had begun to prey on those who were unwise to venture out after the sun sank below the horizon. Tonight he would not need to leave the confines of the castle. He had fed well the previous night. A headstrong young maiden had provided an excellent meal. Tonight was a night for contemplation and strategy.

Word had arrived from his minions in England regarding recent events there. The destruction of Deacon Frost at the hands of the cursed Blade had been reported. While Dracula begrudged the vampire-slayer any success in his foolish crusade, he was actually rather pleased to learn of the death of the insipid German.

"That's two Teutonic thorns removed in recent days," the vampire mused. "Which reminds me, I should inscribe my dealings with that aged Nazi in my diary, while the memories are still fresh."

Dracula turned and descended from the turret down to the main level of the castle. While the walls were adorned with many fineries, he paid them little mind. There was only one piece of handicraft within these walls that brought him pleasure. He threw open the large doors and entered his bedroom. While he had not slept there in centuries, it still was the most important room in the castle, since it contained the only object that touched his undead heart. Hanging above the canopied master bed was the masterful painting of his beloved wife Maria.

"My love," he pondered wistfully. "The thought of rejoining you is the only thing that tempts me from unlife. Still, even if I were to be destroyed, your purity has undoubtedly taken you to a better place than I could ever attain." He turned from the painting and headed for the desk, upon which rested his bound diary. "I forsake God, I forsake Satan. I shall rule this world. Then perhaps I shall storm the afterlife with an army of the undead and bring you back to me." He paused as he recalled that such a day would be a long time in coming to pass. He had as yet not regained his throne as Lord of the Vampires, but events were in motion already that would bring him his crown.

He sat down on the plush chair and then undid the bindings to the diary. It was not the first volume of his memoirs. That volume had been stolen from his castle a century ago. "And it landed in the hands of that fool Stoker. He used it as the background for his novel, that and the accounts of Van Helsing and the Harkers." He allowed himself a slight laugh. "They all paid for their folly. The novel might have painted them as the victors, but it is ever Dracula who triumphs."

{The theft of Dracula's diary was detailed in Dracula Lives #12}

Dracula lifted the feathered pen from the table and dipped it into the inkpot. As he put pen to paper, one could see that the receptacle contained not ink but rather blood. His words played across the page in bright red.

{Dracula joined forces with Nick Fury and the Howling Commandos in Marvel Comics Presents #77-79}

An ornate villa stood atop a cliff, overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. While the villa had stood there for many years, those who walked inside of it had seen millennia more. While most of them could only claim a few hundred years of undead existence, the one who stood before them measured his life in countless more centuries. He was Darkholder, he was First, he was Lord. He had always been Varnae.

Moonlight streaming in from the open windows provided the only illumination inside. THat was more than sufficient for the undead eyes of those gathered here. Varnae sat at the head of the table, atop of macabre throne constructed of human bones. As he took a draught from his blood-filled cup, he looked around at those arrayed around the table. There were Ruthven and Varney, both of whom who had answered his call during the Bloodrise. There was also a new recruit to his cause, the Hungarian Lajos Czucron. A few seats remained open. Carmilla and Liith had refused to attend. The Wallachian, of course, was not present; he was the reason for the gathering. However, it was the empty site at his right side that almost made his undead heart feel dismay.

Varnae pointed with a grotesque finger at the empty seat beside him. "This seat is to be for she who would be my High Priestess. Lamia is destroyed, at the hands of the hunter Blade. Even the power at my disposal could not bring her back. Those who might have taken her position, Lilith and Carmilla, have refused to join my council, though Lilith is driven to the one of our goals - the destruction of the pretender."

"Death to Dracula!" Lajos shouted as lifted his glass. He had his own reasons for enmity at the Impaler. The conflicts of ages past between Wallachia and Hungary had brought them into conflict as well. In those days, Dracula had been Lord of Vampires, and Lajos was inevitably forced to submit. Now, siding with Varnae, Lajos hoped for a new resolution to their centuries-old rivalry.

"Hear, here!" Ruthven echoed. He took a sip and then smiled at Varnae. "I am most honored that you chose my villa to serve as the home of your throne, Lord Varnae."

"The location is most useful," the ancient vampire responded. "It keeps us within striking distance of the Impaler."

"May we not strike now?" Varney said slyly. While he himself was not in favor of confronting Dracula directly, with the arrayed power of those here, in addition to the legions that each commanded, he thought that it might prove useful to answer Varnae's call. "From all reports, Dracula seldom ventures out of his castle. When he does, he never goes far. We can overwhelm him, with your fearsome power leading us."

"Your insincere flattery is decicidely obvious," Varnae sneered. "Still, you have the gift of many years of undeath. There are not many who can make that claim. With the destruction of Lamia, I am the only one of the first breed left. My second, Verdelet, apparently fell to the Sorcerer Supereme not long ago."

{Verdelet was destroyed by Dr. Strange in Midnight Sons Unlimited}

"I'm surprised he lasted that long," Ruthven whispered to Varney. "When we fought beside him in ancient Atlantis, he seemed rather weak-willed, even weaker than you."

"Watch your tongue!" Varney hissed.

"Silence!" Varnae commanded. "I will not suffer your petty squabbling. I summoned you to be my council of war. The day of confrontation with Dracula draws near. Only he has the power to thwart me from resuming my throne as Lord of Vampires. With his destruction at my hands, all will vow their fealty. Because you have answered my invitation, you shall share in my battle, and you shall share in the rewards of supreme power."

"The destruction of the Wallachian will be reward enough for me," Lajos declared.

"Perhaps," Varnae replied soflty. "However, your view might change when I begin to parcel out the world."

"When can we strike? Let it be soon," Varney implored.

"We shall strike when ready." Varnae put the cup to his lips and finished the last bloody drop. "Dracula is a canny foe, especially when he fights upon his own ancient lands. He will likely prove my most dangerous opponent. Neither the Thunder God nor the unending line of Montesis were as dangerous to me as the one-time Voivode. As it should be, since I chose him to be my successor. He knows all that I passed on to him, but I did not pass all my knowledge to him. That will be his downfall." He raised his glass, and the young maid who was waiting on the table rushed to refill his cup. As she tried to pour, Varnae slapped the blood-filled pitcher away and took her instead.

Ruthven sighed. "And it's so difficult to find good help these days."

Paris has long been called the City of Lights. When the sun has dropped below the horizon, the magnificenece that is the French capital can be seen in an entirely different manner. The city takes on a new persona as artificial illumination shines forth. People come from miles around to enjoy the nightlife Parisian clubs and cafes. The darkness also brings forth those who have no illusions of enjoying the elegance of Paris. They are simply here to enjoy the Parisians. While the night may pose many dangers, few are as potent as the vampiresses Lilith and Carmilla.

Wearing goth clothing to better fit in with the populace and tourists, Lilith and Carmilla strolled through the crowded city streets in search of this night's prey. They had been enjoying night after night of feasting here in Paris, and they expected no different from today's hunt.

"What are you in the mood for tonight, my dear?" Carmilla said coyly. "I'm getting rather tired of the local cuisine."

Lilith's eyes scanned the streets, looking for likely prey. "I don't know. Perhaps something German tonight. Their blood tends to run thick."

Carmilla smiled. "German it is then. I hope I can find a good blonde-haired Fraulein."

Lilith nodded. Sometimes her comrade's predilection for female blood disturbed her, but who was she too judge to what another vampire's taste ran. She was simply content to have someone to serve as companion and comrade. Ever since the end of the Bloodrise, the two had become inseparable. Lilith often felt it was because of Carmilla's preferences, but there was no danger in that. One vampire's blood could not feed another. In Carmilla, she had at last found an ally in her quest to destroy her father Dracula. Carmilla had pledged her loyalty, and Lilith trusted her. She was fellow nobility, after all.

"Dracula may have cast me and my mother out." Lilith gristled at the memory. "But I am nonetheless Wallachian nobility. I will claim his castle as my own, once his destruction has been brought about."

"What about those university students over there?" Carmilla pointed out.

"I suppose they'll do," Lilith answered. "How should we go about snaring them? Ply them with drinks?"

"Nothing so droll as that," Carmilla answered. "The alcohol impairs the taste of the blood. I want them fresh and sober." She tugged on Lilith's arms. "Come on. Our skills of persuasion should allow us to put them in a vulnerable situation."

The duo made their way through the crowd until they reached the small group of students. Lilith could not tell from a distance that they were German, but Carmilla had picked them out correcfly. Carmilla addressed them in fluent German, playing the role as fellow German students looking to have fun with some of their own countrywomen.

Lilith chimed into the conversation, and soon the group was headed towards the Latin Quarter, where Carmilla claimed to know of the most entertaining nightclub. The girls were already in their thrall. They would not reach the nightclub. They would not live to see the dawn.

Licking the last of the blood from her lips thirty minutes later, Carmilla sighed. "A very good meal. A very good meal indeed."

"Agreed. But now we must put our attention to the greater enterprise." Lilith looked around, making sure that no one saw them exit from the alleyway, now strewn with the corpses of the German students. "Dracula must be destroyed. Then I can ascend to the vampire throne."

"Mine will be the hand that slays him," Carmilla said proudly. "Would that you could do it yourself."

"Yes," Lilith grumbled. "But the dark magic that infused the world after the destruction fo the Book of Erebus has reinstated the spell that Gretchin used to create me. I am once again the unique vampire that she had magically produced. However, the limitation of her spell is once again in place. I must hound Dracula to his doom, but I cannot be the instrument of his doom."

"I shall slay him for you, and then give his head to you, to cast to the dogs," Carmilla snarled.

"That day will soon arrive." Lilith shifted to bat-form and took to the sky. "Come. We must gather our forces. There are many among the undead who suffered under Dracula's rule, and there are many that have never known Varnae except in legend. They will rally to my side in the confrontation to come."

Carmilla assumed the same form and lifted into the sky. At the side of Lilith, her life was proving to more exciting than it had for many a decade.

It had been a few days since Blade returned to New York from his exploits in London. He had spent the past few days providing Bible John with all of the details, while the nights were spent in the unending hunt for the undead. Now on this morning, Blade was finished doing the talking. He was ready to do some listening.

"Was it something I did?" Bible John asked as he handed Blade a cup of coffee. "I hope I didn't offend you in some way. I truly was very interested in everything that transpired in London." He sat down in the meager kitchen, one of the few normal rooms within the vast Chiaroscuro, hidden within a dilapidated city block.

"Naw, it ain't that," Blade replied. "I'm just tired of doing all of the yakking." He took a sip of the coffee. "I got nothing much to tell about last night anyway. I came, I saw, I slayed. Now howsabout you do the talking for once?"

"Really?" Bible John answered. "I spend most of my time here in the Chiaroscuro. What would I have to tell that would interest you?"

"You could tell me more about the Cathari. You're always very cryptic about it. How'd you get involved in it in the first place, and what are they all about?"

"The first question is easy, the second is a little more difficult," Bible John said. "How about we just go with the first one today?"

"Fine." Blade put down his cup. "Only I expect a full answer to the second someday."

"Fair enough." Bible John took a deep breath to compose himself. "Well, when we first met, I told you that I was a professor of antiquities at the Kronenberg Institute. My specialty was in the area of the Knights Templar. They were an religious order during the Crusades, but instead of praying in a monastery, they fought in the deserts of the Holy Land. They were a very mysterious organization. It played into their eventual downfall. They were much feared for their power - both temporal and possibly mystical.

"Anyway, as I had mentioned to you before, my research had taken me to the tomb of a particular notorious Knight Templar. I was overjoyed when my work had led me to discover the tomb in the ruins of the castle in East Africa, near the ancient Templar fortress in Acre. We worked slowly at performing the excavation. Finally we came upon the doors of the tomb. They were made of bright smooth metal. They were flawless, untouched by the ages. When I touched them, I felt something like a trickle of electricity flow through me. It took some effort, but I finally pried the doors open.

"When I opened the doors, I saw the Knight himself. He was decked out in his armor, his arms folded across his chest, and he lay on a slab of solid marble. His armor was untarnished, his body showed no signs of decay. As the last of the party entered the tomb, the waning daylight was extinguished as the sun went down.

"We all had felt a sense of dread as we entered the tomb, somewhat similar to that which pervades everything these days. As we looked upon the corpse, we saw that our dread was well-placed. The Knight's eyes opened, and they glowed with an infernal crimson color. He rose to his feet, showing his prodigious size and strength. Some of my colleagues had advanced past me. They were the first to receive the Knight's malicious welcome. He did not draw his sword, but he sliced their throats just the same. The nails on his exposed hands were razor sharp.

"We panicked and sought to flee. However, darkness had fallen and the Knight had summoned fog with his vampiric power. When he smiled at his first kills, he displayed the unmistakable canines of the undead. We had beeen a scientific lot, but we recognized that we were facing consummate evil. In the haze that had enveloped the tomb, we could not fight the entrance.

"The tomb had been located in dangerous territory so we had been armed, with both pistols and knives. As the Knight began the bloodshed, he had divested himself of the armor. Not that it made any difference to our weapons. We fought and hid for what seemed hours within that deathtrap. One by one the Knight whittled down our numbers. Eventually, I was the only one left. I held my pistol at him, ready to empty the few bullets I had left, when they arrived.

"Who?" Blade demanded.

"The Cathari. A number of their agents had responded to the breaking of the mystic seals. They had instituted them centuries before in order to hold Knight, Azzo Von Klatka, by name. With their mystic weapons, they were able to secure my escape, but they were not able to reseal Von Klatka in the tomb." Bible John shrugged. "He must be out there somewhere, still."

"The Cathari took me back to the original Chiaroscuro, and nursed me back to health. My mind had been shattered by the experience. Employing their mysticism, they were able to bring me back to sanity. As a result of the mental journey, my psychic powers were uncovered. They've been a blessing and a curse ever since."

"Hmm." Blade muttered. "That answers some questions, but not all of them. I still don't know what the Cathari is all about. And I thought you said the original Chiaroscuro was destroyed back in the 30's?"

"It was a long time ago."

Blade eyed Bible John suspiciously. "That a fact? That makes you a lot older than you look."

"Another story for another time," Bible John replied. "I think I've told enough for one night. Recalling Von Klatka still affects me."

"Fine, for now." Blade was not completely satisfied by the story, but he learned more about Bible John tonight than he ever had before.

The local news broadcast had just finished, and the members of the Drake household were getting ready for bed. While Marlene went to check on their infant son Adam, Frank went to check on all of the protective measures he had installed in their Long Island house. While he had decided to leave the world of the undead behind, he was not convinced that the vampires were willing to do the same.

There were crosses and crucifixes to be found in every room. Ever since he had returned to the real world after being trapped within the essence of Dracula along with Hannibal King, he had found more religious conviction within himself than he had thought possible. If he wielded a cross, he had no doubt that he could turn a vampire away.

He checked the windows to make sure that the garlic extract linings were still in place. There was plenty of glassware arrayed around the house, all full with holy water. Under the couch and his bed he had pistols armed with silver bullets. Marlene did not like having guns in the house. She worried what they would do when Adam got older, when the firearms could pose a danger to their child as well. Frank said that they would cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, he wanted to make sure that his family was safe.

Satisfied that everything was in place, Frank went to Adam's crib. The baby slept with a content smile on his face. He reached out and slightly touched the child's cheek.

"Come to bed, Frank," Marlene called out softly.

"All right, honey." He walked over to Marlene, who was now in her nightgown, and embraced her tightly.

"Everything's fine," Marlene whispered. "You've got the place vampire-proof. Plus, they can't get in unless they're invited, and Lord knows I don't let anybody in."

"I know," Frank responded. "But we can't be too safe. Things have changed out there, for the worse. I don't know if all the old rules hold true, but I'll be damned if I let anything happen to my family."

Marlene began to drag Frank towards the bed. "I know you will."

A knock at the door made Frank let go of Marlene. "Who could that be? At this hour?" he muttered. He reached under the bed and pulled out the pistol.

"Frank?" Marlene said, concern evident in her voice.

"I'll take care of it." He crept towards the front door, gun in hand. He stood at the bay window and pulled the shade aside. He was expecting something sinister, but the presence that stood in the doorway was anything but that. He put the gun down and opened the door.

"Janus," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello, kinsman," the son of Dracula replied. Janus was once again in his angelic warrior form. A slight golden glow surrounded his blue and white outfit. His features showed his bloodline, but they were so serence, in stark contrast to his father, who was also Frank's ancestor.

"You scared me, you scared all of us," Frank muttered.

"Such was not my intention," Janus admitted. "I only wanted to set your mind at ease about matters."

"Such as what? Is Dracula finally destroyed?"

"No," Janus shrugged, "That day has not come to pass yet. However, there are brewing developments within the ranks of the undead, developments that could have dire consequences."

Frank shook his head. "If you're trying to convince me to get back into the fight, it's not going to happen. I saw more than enough action during the Bloodrise. I'm out of the fight. If the vampires come at my family, I'll take them on, but I'm not looking for trouble."

"I had expected your reluctance to become involved," Janus stated coolly. "However, I know now that your place is here with your family. As for the developments, they will ensure that there will be no movements against the Drakes, at least for the time being. If matters change, then I shall inform you with all due haste."

"What developments?"

"You need not worry about them, at least not for now, perhaps not ever."

Frank could see that Janus spoke pure truth. If the angelic warrior said there was nothing to worry about, then there was nothing to worry about. "OK. I believe you."

"I shall watch over you and yours as best I can, Frank Drake," Janus declared. "You are the best that our family has produced. You are the future." The glow around him intensified, and he shifted into the form of a golden eagle. He took off into the night, offering a parting greeting. "Peace be with you."

"Frank?" Marlene called out. "Who was it?"

"It was Janus," Frank closed the door and smiled. "Everything's going to be all right."

NEXT ISSUE :

The schemes of the various vampire factions move forward.

BITING REMARKS

Lajos Czucron is another literary vampire, joining Varney, Ruthven, and Carmilla in the Vampire Tales cast. Lajos first appeared in the 1927 short story "The Man Who Cast No Shadow" by Seabury Quinn.

Azzo Von Klatka was the featured vampire in the anonymously-written "The Mysterious Stranger". I meshed him in with the few details about Bible John's past given in Blade: Vampire Hunter #2.

Bob Gansler
07-September-00