Till We Meet Again
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
PROLOG:
THE PRINCE OF THE NORTH - SILVER TONGUE DEVIL
(Graveyard at Midnight)
As the giant church bell sounded its 12th 'dong!', a misty shadow hovered over the large field of new and old tombs. Hidden from mortal eyes, deaf to human ears, a meeting was taking place- the meeting of some of the most evil creatures ever haunted the face of Earth. A four-sided table, not made of wood, but coffin-lids, was set in the very center of the field. Four figures occupied the table, and they seemed to be having a serious conversation. The graveyard it self and its occupants however, were as quiet as death would allow. It was as if even the ghosts were holding their breath, afraid to disturb the four strangers. On the right hand side of the table, sat a tall, authoritative figure. From his long cape and expensive clothing, it wasn't hard to say that he was some kind of royal blood. He was dealing a set of cards, with a somber look upon his face. He looked as if he was either under a lot of stress, or having a hangover. "I beg your pardon, my noble fellows. It is not that I do not enjoy this meeting and a little game of death, but may the truth be known, I'm suffering from the worst of all cases of broken ego." He trailed off, looking sadder than ever.
"Just what's the matter, my dear Count? May sweet Megonna rise your heart?" The young woman who was sitting on the nearside of the table said seductively. This woman was a beauty among the bests in the world. Dressed in a loose pale robe, with equally pale cloak around her shoulders, her robe shielded not the luscious curves that her body presented. Her long, golden hair was pulled back in a long braid, which seemed to move in the wind like a golden, deadly serpent. Barely 5-4 feet tall, with a very trimmed figure, she was easily the smallest among the rest of them around the table. Her beauty and size, however, couldn't hide the deadly strength of her being, since when she flushed the count that charming smile, one could see the razor-like fangs behind her soft, pink lips. Megonna drew a card, looked at it, and said proudly: "Ah, I think I must apologize to you poor creatures, a queen of skull!"
"Again?!" The dark figure on the left side of the table said, or hissed. It was hard to tell its gender by the voice, since the being sounded more like a hissing cobra then a talking demon. A closer look however, would bring a conclusion to his gender. There was, nothing in anyway, feminine about this gruesome figure. Abnormally tall and thin, he was cloaked in a bloodstained black material, his face was hidden behind a hood, but one could still see the filthy, long dark hair protruding from beneath the hood. His hair was a mess of gore and greenish goo, and on his belt, he carried a sickle the size of an executioner's axe. The blade of the sickle gleamed like a half moon, evil and deadly, and its silver grip was polished and adorned with a skull-symbol. "The best I've got so far was just a king of Blood!" The tall figure hissed, sounding mighty pissed off.
"Come now Tomb! It's just a game, and we're not taking your trusty toy away after all." The man on the far side of the table said cheerfully and drew his own card. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess Megonna, I've got here, the King of Abyss!" He stood up, clapped his hands with the King of Abyss between them, and in that instant, all the cards on the table, including the one he held, turned into blades of ice. On his feet, the man appeared to be about 5-11 feet tall, and powerfully built like a Viking warrior. Long, silvery hair cast down his back, he wore silver cape and breastplate, completed with metallic pants and boots. His arms were bare, and lined with solid muscles, and his fingertips were the claws of an eagle. Although he spoke in a friendly, tenor voice, he could easily be the most deadly among the four.
"Oh dear," Megonna said playfully and flushed another of her (I want you) smile, "Is there any other way I can pay back the debt, my dear Prince Josefiend? Hummm?"
"I think," Josefiend said thoughtfully, "We can arrange that another time, your highness. Right now I think it's best if we hear what Dracula has on his mind."
"Oh yes," Megonna said and turned her gaze towards the count. "What's new, my sweet count? Last we've heard, you were aftering that English detective. Now, tell us what's haunting your grave."
"Wooooo," Dracula stood up and let out a sigh which sounded more like a waling dog. He pulled open the front of his robe, and the other three could see the two bullets that buried deep in the flesh of his chest. The bullets however, were not big problems by the look of them, since they all knew that Dracula was not to be harmed by such simple mortal toys. The real wound lied right below his left nipple, a bloody mark that left no doubt that Dracula, the forever vampire nightmare, had been staked again.
"Dear fellow!" Josefiend exclaimed, "The detective shot ya? Did you at least drain him of his blood?"
A long pause, then, "He had exposed my identity to the whole population of England, and that idiot of a professor was still on my tail, to answer your question, no! I didn't even get to sleep peacefully in my coffin for one night, and I had to run."
"Who staked you?" Megonna asked, trying hard not to laugh.
"That little slut of a bitch, Buffy! I, I, I." Dracula trailed off, looking embarrassed.
"A woman?" Josefiend asked, obviously amused.
"That no good slayer for nothing?" Megonna covered her mouth with a delicate hand, hiding a smile. Laughing at Dracula now would mean to make him so ashamed that he might just stake him self.
"Buffffffy?" Tomb the Reaper hissed the name, dragging the tone.
"My dear fellow! Tell me how did a mortal female achieve such a maricle!" The Man in Silver said.
"Oh, you do not understand me. When you've gone to sleep for hundreds of years, a mortal female can seem very tempting." Shockingly, they saw that Dracula's dead face actually blushed.
"Ahaaa!" Josefiend nodded his head.
"So, my dear count, you've trade your prick to get pricked hu?" Megonna mocked, now laughing openly.
"What's the matter?! Can't an old vampire think with another head for awhile?!" Dracula said angrily, his face turning redder.
A long pause followed, no one said a word. Only the wind howled around them, and each one was thinking his/her own thoughts. "Buffy eh?" Josefiend said softly, "I want to see her!" His voice all of a sudden took on a dangerous edge. He closed his eyes and raised one hand into the air, chanting "Icima!" The table all of a sudden turned into a huge piece of ice, as clear as mirror. From the center of the ice, a blonde woman, wearing next to nothing was smiling up at the four evils around the table. Even his three evil friends were somehow taken aback by this performance of magic. Buffy, not knowing that she was being watched, flipped her hair and walked right on. On this side of the ice, the night was dark and cold, but on the other side, Buffy was walking down a busy street, the sun shined warmly on her bared shoulders. It seemed to the audience that the two worlds were just separated by the block of ice in front of them.
"That's most extraordinary magic!" Dracula clapped his hands.
"So, this is Buffy." Josefiend whispered.
"Yes, that's her, the bitch, the." Dracula cursed, but no one was listening to him.
"Would you say that she's prettier than me?" Megonna question doubtfully.
"No one is." Josefiend said, his eyes still fixed upon Buffy. "But all the same, I got to meet this mortal female. I'd like to see if her blood's as sweet as the rest of her."
"When will you find out about me?" Megonna whispered, moving closer to the powerfully built Josefiend.
"I'll claim that as an award if I conquer Buffy." He said, "Now, so long my dark friends! There is matter at hand, and I shall depart. Until next time." A blinding light radiated from his body, and Josefiend turned into a dragon-like creature with icy wings and talons. Though not the tallest in his human form, Josefiend's real shape was more than huge. A silvery metallic monster covered in plate-sized scales, easily 20 feet long from head to tail. He cried a shrill scream, and a silvery lance-like thing shot from his jaws. Wherever the silver tongue touched, the grounds and tombstones just split as if carved by lazer.
"So that's the legendary silver tongue." Dracula said in awe as the silvery beast disappeared in the night sky.
"Wow, he's cute as a man, and just pure beautiful as his real self. Oh my evilness, I think I'm in love!" Megonna exclaimed.
"Well, I think that I shall return to my hide-out for now." Dracula waved and with a flip of his cape, he transformed into a large bat and flied away.
"I think I'll go back to my coffin and dream of my silver prince!" Megonna said in a dreamy voice. "Good walk home Reaper." She blew Tomb a kiss, and turned into a tiny, pale bat. She was gone too.
"Shhhhit," Tomb hissed, "Bunch of show offs." He said as he walked slowly away. "Maybe it's time to buy a car."
Tuesday, January 21, 2003
PROLOG:
THE PRINCE OF THE NORTH - SILVER TONGUE DEVIL
(Graveyard at Midnight)
As the giant church bell sounded its 12th 'dong!', a misty shadow hovered over the large field of new and old tombs. Hidden from mortal eyes, deaf to human ears, a meeting was taking place- the meeting of some of the most evil creatures ever haunted the face of Earth. A four-sided table, not made of wood, but coffin-lids, was set in the very center of the field. Four figures occupied the table, and they seemed to be having a serious conversation. The graveyard it self and its occupants however, were as quiet as death would allow. It was as if even the ghosts were holding their breath, afraid to disturb the four strangers. On the right hand side of the table, sat a tall, authoritative figure. From his long cape and expensive clothing, it wasn't hard to say that he was some kind of royal blood. He was dealing a set of cards, with a somber look upon his face. He looked as if he was either under a lot of stress, or having a hangover. "I beg your pardon, my noble fellows. It is not that I do not enjoy this meeting and a little game of death, but may the truth be known, I'm suffering from the worst of all cases of broken ego." He trailed off, looking sadder than ever.
"Just what's the matter, my dear Count? May sweet Megonna rise your heart?" The young woman who was sitting on the nearside of the table said seductively. This woman was a beauty among the bests in the world. Dressed in a loose pale robe, with equally pale cloak around her shoulders, her robe shielded not the luscious curves that her body presented. Her long, golden hair was pulled back in a long braid, which seemed to move in the wind like a golden, deadly serpent. Barely 5-4 feet tall, with a very trimmed figure, she was easily the smallest among the rest of them around the table. Her beauty and size, however, couldn't hide the deadly strength of her being, since when she flushed the count that charming smile, one could see the razor-like fangs behind her soft, pink lips. Megonna drew a card, looked at it, and said proudly: "Ah, I think I must apologize to you poor creatures, a queen of skull!"
"Again?!" The dark figure on the left side of the table said, or hissed. It was hard to tell its gender by the voice, since the being sounded more like a hissing cobra then a talking demon. A closer look however, would bring a conclusion to his gender. There was, nothing in anyway, feminine about this gruesome figure. Abnormally tall and thin, he was cloaked in a bloodstained black material, his face was hidden behind a hood, but one could still see the filthy, long dark hair protruding from beneath the hood. His hair was a mess of gore and greenish goo, and on his belt, he carried a sickle the size of an executioner's axe. The blade of the sickle gleamed like a half moon, evil and deadly, and its silver grip was polished and adorned with a skull-symbol. "The best I've got so far was just a king of Blood!" The tall figure hissed, sounding mighty pissed off.
"Come now Tomb! It's just a game, and we're not taking your trusty toy away after all." The man on the far side of the table said cheerfully and drew his own card. "Sorry to burst your bubble, Princess Megonna, I've got here, the King of Abyss!" He stood up, clapped his hands with the King of Abyss between them, and in that instant, all the cards on the table, including the one he held, turned into blades of ice. On his feet, the man appeared to be about 5-11 feet tall, and powerfully built like a Viking warrior. Long, silvery hair cast down his back, he wore silver cape and breastplate, completed with metallic pants and boots. His arms were bare, and lined with solid muscles, and his fingertips were the claws of an eagle. Although he spoke in a friendly, tenor voice, he could easily be the most deadly among the four.
"Oh dear," Megonna said playfully and flushed another of her (I want you) smile, "Is there any other way I can pay back the debt, my dear Prince Josefiend? Hummm?"
"I think," Josefiend said thoughtfully, "We can arrange that another time, your highness. Right now I think it's best if we hear what Dracula has on his mind."
"Oh yes," Megonna said and turned her gaze towards the count. "What's new, my sweet count? Last we've heard, you were aftering that English detective. Now, tell us what's haunting your grave."
"Wooooo," Dracula stood up and let out a sigh which sounded more like a waling dog. He pulled open the front of his robe, and the other three could see the two bullets that buried deep in the flesh of his chest. The bullets however, were not big problems by the look of them, since they all knew that Dracula was not to be harmed by such simple mortal toys. The real wound lied right below his left nipple, a bloody mark that left no doubt that Dracula, the forever vampire nightmare, had been staked again.
"Dear fellow!" Josefiend exclaimed, "The detective shot ya? Did you at least drain him of his blood?"
A long pause, then, "He had exposed my identity to the whole population of England, and that idiot of a professor was still on my tail, to answer your question, no! I didn't even get to sleep peacefully in my coffin for one night, and I had to run."
"Who staked you?" Megonna asked, trying hard not to laugh.
"That little slut of a bitch, Buffy! I, I, I." Dracula trailed off, looking embarrassed.
"A woman?" Josefiend asked, obviously amused.
"That no good slayer for nothing?" Megonna covered her mouth with a delicate hand, hiding a smile. Laughing at Dracula now would mean to make him so ashamed that he might just stake him self.
"Buffffffy?" Tomb the Reaper hissed the name, dragging the tone.
"My dear fellow! Tell me how did a mortal female achieve such a maricle!" The Man in Silver said.
"Oh, you do not understand me. When you've gone to sleep for hundreds of years, a mortal female can seem very tempting." Shockingly, they saw that Dracula's dead face actually blushed.
"Ahaaa!" Josefiend nodded his head.
"So, my dear count, you've trade your prick to get pricked hu?" Megonna mocked, now laughing openly.
"What's the matter?! Can't an old vampire think with another head for awhile?!" Dracula said angrily, his face turning redder.
A long pause followed, no one said a word. Only the wind howled around them, and each one was thinking his/her own thoughts. "Buffy eh?" Josefiend said softly, "I want to see her!" His voice all of a sudden took on a dangerous edge. He closed his eyes and raised one hand into the air, chanting "Icima!" The table all of a sudden turned into a huge piece of ice, as clear as mirror. From the center of the ice, a blonde woman, wearing next to nothing was smiling up at the four evils around the table. Even his three evil friends were somehow taken aback by this performance of magic. Buffy, not knowing that she was being watched, flipped her hair and walked right on. On this side of the ice, the night was dark and cold, but on the other side, Buffy was walking down a busy street, the sun shined warmly on her bared shoulders. It seemed to the audience that the two worlds were just separated by the block of ice in front of them.
"That's most extraordinary magic!" Dracula clapped his hands.
"So, this is Buffy." Josefiend whispered.
"Yes, that's her, the bitch, the." Dracula cursed, but no one was listening to him.
"Would you say that she's prettier than me?" Megonna question doubtfully.
"No one is." Josefiend said, his eyes still fixed upon Buffy. "But all the same, I got to meet this mortal female. I'd like to see if her blood's as sweet as the rest of her."
"When will you find out about me?" Megonna whispered, moving closer to the powerfully built Josefiend.
"I'll claim that as an award if I conquer Buffy." He said, "Now, so long my dark friends! There is matter at hand, and I shall depart. Until next time." A blinding light radiated from his body, and Josefiend turned into a dragon-like creature with icy wings and talons. Though not the tallest in his human form, Josefiend's real shape was more than huge. A silvery metallic monster covered in plate-sized scales, easily 20 feet long from head to tail. He cried a shrill scream, and a silvery lance-like thing shot from his jaws. Wherever the silver tongue touched, the grounds and tombstones just split as if carved by lazer.
"So that's the legendary silver tongue." Dracula said in awe as the silvery beast disappeared in the night sky.
"Wow, he's cute as a man, and just pure beautiful as his real self. Oh my evilness, I think I'm in love!" Megonna exclaimed.
"Well, I think that I shall return to my hide-out for now." Dracula waved and with a flip of his cape, he transformed into a large bat and flied away.
"I think I'll go back to my coffin and dream of my silver prince!" Megonna said in a dreamy voice. "Good walk home Reaper." She blew Tomb a kiss, and turned into a tiny, pale bat. She was gone too.
"Shhhhit," Tomb hissed, "Bunch of show offs." He said as he walked slowly away. "Maybe it's time to buy a car."