"For you, my friend, they are the angels of death."
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-
EPISODE TEN: THE WAY OF THE MONK
In a small shack deep in the woodland mountains sat a lone figure. Exiled from his last home by the atrocious racism of men, he now called the land his home. His days were long with meditation on what might have been and what was to come. The martial arts master and werewolf Jon Talbain had hit an all-time low in his life.
That morning the sunrise was golden, but it only raised red in his bleeding heart. Every day was a trial just to live with himself and what had happened. Birds sung what he believed to be a prelude to his funeral dirge. He had come to nature to die.
His grim meditation was interrupted by the sound of a large metallic traveling hat crashing to the ground, followed by the crashing of a sword stabbing into that ground. Talbain looked up to see a well-muscled silhouette leaning on the sword, his braided brown hair blowing in the wind.
Talbain looked fierce, "What do you want of me?"
The man leered down at him, "What do -you- want of you?"
Talbain looked away. He couldn't answer that. "You are a hunter", he acknowledged, "If you've come to kill me go ahead. It would be a favor."
Talbain felt a sharp elbow to his chin, sending him crashing onto his back. The man stood over him, "I did not come to kill you. I came to teach you how to live."
The next morning, Jon was lying around the house, half-drunk from the night before. The humbling experience from the morning before had led to an even more humbling day. The hunter had explained that he was a monk and that he only hunted down those who could not coexist peacefully with the world around them.
He remembered clearly what the man had said, "I give you two options, Jon Talbain: live a hero or die a coward. I will not watch you waste away any longer." Talbain realized then and there he could not die yet: he had to live for Felicia.
The monk's 'training' was brutal. Talbain had never trained this rigorously in his life, not even for his strong body. There was the usual weight training, kung fu sparring matches (although the monk often injected eastern Indian techniques), and the balance tests like before, but these were in addition to the meditation: the hardest part.
Jon had often meditated on his own, but the way this monk did it was completely alien to the ponderous thinking sessions he was used to. In these meditations, the monk would play a game with him called You Tell, I Tell. In this game, he would tell the monk something about himself, and in return the monk would reveal something about himself. It was meant to build trust between the two as well as respect and understanding.
Talbain had learned this much over the course of three days: the monk's name was Donovan Baine, he was a Damphir which is a half-breed cross between a vampire and a gypsy magician, and he hunted the dark to justify his own existence.
In addition, Talbain had told the monk that his real last name was Kreutz, that he was born a werewolf because via his father's blood, and that he had trained his entire life to be able to control his shape but the beast often took him over anyway.
The harshest part of the training was the revealing, because Talbain had always been one to stand alone. The only one he had ever told his intimate secrets to was Felicia, and only her because he wanted to be with her forever. He could still remember that night after he woke up from the coma:
Aulbath was sleeping on the couch and Officer Makabaya had long since gone home for the evening: she had work tomorrow. The house was quiet and dark.
Alone in her room, Felicia sat beside a very special friend: the indispensable Jon Talbain, who only hours ago had admitted he loved her as much as she did him.
They had talked for most of that time, telling each other everything. Felicia talked about being raised an orphan among several other catgirls who became her 'sisters'. Talbain talked about growing up alone in the woods, training day after day so that one day he could be free of his curse. Felicia had told him it wasn't a curse, but a wonderful opportunity for him to do good in the world.
Talk seemed so cheap, and finally it just wasn't enough anymore. They looked into each other's eyes for the longest time before Talbain finally reached up, cupped her face gently in his hands, and whispered, "I don't know how long it will take, but I will be the hero you see in me. Will you wait for me?" She slowly nodded, her eyes wet.
They had lost all sense of space and drifted together, their faces inches from one another. Finally, Talbain made the first move, and they shared a kiss for the books.
"This woman, Felicia, do you love her?"
Talbain looked up, "Of course I do."
Donovan looked at him with the eyes of an ancient, "They why do you wait."
"I don't understand what you mean", Talbain admitted quietly.
Donovan was calm as usual, "You cannot know what it is like to truly be unloved. Yes, you are of cursed blood, but you have been supported for most of your life: by your students, by your friends, and now by the woman you would call your lover. If you love her, by God, go to her and never look back at this horrible place or time."
Talbain winced, "I can't go back. My purpose will be lost if I'm dead."
Donovan slammed a fist beside Talbain's head on the wall before the werewolf could think to react and stared deep into his eyes, "Hear this my young friend. The true measure of a hero's courage is not whether he is afraid, but whether or not he can face his destiny in spite of that fear. If your fate is to die, you will die. However, if your fate is to live, then look at all you have been missing in life."
Talbain's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed, "You speak the truth."
Donovan stood up, "Then have you made your decision?"
Talbain nodded, "I'm going back, but it won't be easy."
Donovan turned to leave the shack, "Most worthwhile things never are."
That evening, at the city limit sign to Pasadena, a lone figure stood ready. Ready for the laughter. Ready for the tears. Ready, at last, to live the way a hero lives.
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM
-Man against monster. Monster against self. The story is as old as time. Living above us, below us, and among us, they assimilate themselves into our culture, and us into theirs. To the common man, they are simply known as night terrors, but to the initiated, they are the Darkstalkers-
EPISODE TEN: THE WAY OF THE MONK
In a small shack deep in the woodland mountains sat a lone figure. Exiled from his last home by the atrocious racism of men, he now called the land his home. His days were long with meditation on what might have been and what was to come. The martial arts master and werewolf Jon Talbain had hit an all-time low in his life.
That morning the sunrise was golden, but it only raised red in his bleeding heart. Every day was a trial just to live with himself and what had happened. Birds sung what he believed to be a prelude to his funeral dirge. He had come to nature to die.
His grim meditation was interrupted by the sound of a large metallic traveling hat crashing to the ground, followed by the crashing of a sword stabbing into that ground. Talbain looked up to see a well-muscled silhouette leaning on the sword, his braided brown hair blowing in the wind.
Talbain looked fierce, "What do you want of me?"
The man leered down at him, "What do -you- want of you?"
Talbain looked away. He couldn't answer that. "You are a hunter", he acknowledged, "If you've come to kill me go ahead. It would be a favor."
Talbain felt a sharp elbow to his chin, sending him crashing onto his back. The man stood over him, "I did not come to kill you. I came to teach you how to live."
The next morning, Jon was lying around the house, half-drunk from the night before. The humbling experience from the morning before had led to an even more humbling day. The hunter had explained that he was a monk and that he only hunted down those who could not coexist peacefully with the world around them.
He remembered clearly what the man had said, "I give you two options, Jon Talbain: live a hero or die a coward. I will not watch you waste away any longer." Talbain realized then and there he could not die yet: he had to live for Felicia.
The monk's 'training' was brutal. Talbain had never trained this rigorously in his life, not even for his strong body. There was the usual weight training, kung fu sparring matches (although the monk often injected eastern Indian techniques), and the balance tests like before, but these were in addition to the meditation: the hardest part.
Jon had often meditated on his own, but the way this monk did it was completely alien to the ponderous thinking sessions he was used to. In these meditations, the monk would play a game with him called You Tell, I Tell. In this game, he would tell the monk something about himself, and in return the monk would reveal something about himself. It was meant to build trust between the two as well as respect and understanding.
Talbain had learned this much over the course of three days: the monk's name was Donovan Baine, he was a Damphir which is a half-breed cross between a vampire and a gypsy magician, and he hunted the dark to justify his own existence.
In addition, Talbain had told the monk that his real last name was Kreutz, that he was born a werewolf because via his father's blood, and that he had trained his entire life to be able to control his shape but the beast often took him over anyway.
The harshest part of the training was the revealing, because Talbain had always been one to stand alone. The only one he had ever told his intimate secrets to was Felicia, and only her because he wanted to be with her forever. He could still remember that night after he woke up from the coma:
Aulbath was sleeping on the couch and Officer Makabaya had long since gone home for the evening: she had work tomorrow. The house was quiet and dark.
Alone in her room, Felicia sat beside a very special friend: the indispensable Jon Talbain, who only hours ago had admitted he loved her as much as she did him.
They had talked for most of that time, telling each other everything. Felicia talked about being raised an orphan among several other catgirls who became her 'sisters'. Talbain talked about growing up alone in the woods, training day after day so that one day he could be free of his curse. Felicia had told him it wasn't a curse, but a wonderful opportunity for him to do good in the world.
Talk seemed so cheap, and finally it just wasn't enough anymore. They looked into each other's eyes for the longest time before Talbain finally reached up, cupped her face gently in his hands, and whispered, "I don't know how long it will take, but I will be the hero you see in me. Will you wait for me?" She slowly nodded, her eyes wet.
They had lost all sense of space and drifted together, their faces inches from one another. Finally, Talbain made the first move, and they shared a kiss for the books.
"This woman, Felicia, do you love her?"
Talbain looked up, "Of course I do."
Donovan looked at him with the eyes of an ancient, "They why do you wait."
"I don't understand what you mean", Talbain admitted quietly.
Donovan was calm as usual, "You cannot know what it is like to truly be unloved. Yes, you are of cursed blood, but you have been supported for most of your life: by your students, by your friends, and now by the woman you would call your lover. If you love her, by God, go to her and never look back at this horrible place or time."
Talbain winced, "I can't go back. My purpose will be lost if I'm dead."
Donovan slammed a fist beside Talbain's head on the wall before the werewolf could think to react and stared deep into his eyes, "Hear this my young friend. The true measure of a hero's courage is not whether he is afraid, but whether or not he can face his destiny in spite of that fear. If your fate is to die, you will die. However, if your fate is to live, then look at all you have been missing in life."
Talbain's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed, "You speak the truth."
Donovan stood up, "Then have you made your decision?"
Talbain nodded, "I'm going back, but it won't be easy."
Donovan turned to leave the shack, "Most worthwhile things never are."
That evening, at the city limit sign to Pasadena, a lone figure stood ready. Ready for the laughter. Ready for the tears. Ready, at last, to live the way a hero lives.
DARKSTALKERS: THE SERIES WRITTEN BY REGIS A WELCH DARKSTALKERS © 2004 CAPCOM