Flash back 10 years ago.

A man wearing a long tan trench coat which was covered in blood was walking down a dark ally somewhere in Spain. He cursed his friends impatience as he quickly headed to a train that would take him to Italy and to Iscariot head quarters. The man ignored the strange stairs he received from street peddlers and the homeless who saw his coat covered in brown splotches and wondered who he was and what had happened to him. The man stood a little straighter and stuck his neck out more so that those who dared to look saw the white collar around his neck. He was no mere man nor did he have to answer to anyone in regards to the blood stains they saw. Father Alexander Anderson was a man of the cloth and of god he answered only to the pope himself and to the arch bishop's. He was a renegade priest who when not presiding over a small orphanage in the country of Ireland was doing the Vatican's bidding.

Alex had just managed to literally cut up no less than six high order vampires. A job like that would have usually taken 3 good priests from the order of Iscariot. But for Alex it was child's play as he had dealt with much worse in his time. Father Anderson prided himself in being the most well endowed most capable man to ever don the robes of a priest. He was the cherished angel of death for the Vatican and it's secret organization Iscariot. When he arrived to the train station he quickly took his coat off to draw away any attention to himself. He bought a ticket in the dead of night and picked a seat that was furthest away from any other passengers. He liked traveling on the night trains it was much more quieter and much more empty. Father Anderson had a deep dislike for most humans they were mostly monsters in side committing nameless sins for their own sick and twisted pleasures. He was well aware of the fact that his own sins had damned him to hell but at least he was taking out the trash with him. Father Anderson opened his most prized possession; the bible he had been given when had been a boy left at a catholic orphanage so many years ago and began to read. The next thing Father Anderson knew was the train was coming to a halt and the whistle was blowing loudly to indicate that they had reached their destination. He must have fallen asleep while reading. The man stood up and quickly vacated the train and began his walk to one of the oldest churches in Rome. Out of all the places he had visited in his long life no place felt quite like home like Vatican city. This was where he was truly amongst his brothers and sisters all of whom served the same purpose he did the will of God. He wondered why his old friend the Bishop Maxwell wanted him so badly. He knew Alex was out on assignment yet he demanded Alex's presence immediately.

Alex hated being rushed in his job he took great pleasure in his work and wanted to take his time when he was out hunting. "It must be good." Alex thought to himself but no matter how badly Maxwell needed him first he would return to his small room in the basement of the church and shower and change. He smelled of blood and it made him sick to his stomach. Alex nodded to the other priests and nuns who greeted him when he walked through the doors. They knew him well even though he was rarely there and he only staid no more than a day or two at a time. Feeling refreshed and donning new priest robes he grabbed another trench coat one that wasn't covered in blood and put his bayonets and bible in the inside. Maxwell had indicated there would be a meeting going on in the rectory of this church at precisely 12:00 and it was already 12:15 which meant he would be late. Alex walked up to the main part of the church and walked through a number of priest preying with a group of alter boys. They nodded to him and said "peace be with you." "and also with you." His gruff voice responded and walked through a number of doors to the rectory.