Author's Note: I just want to thank everyone who has written a review. So far they have all been pretty positive, and I hope that those of you who are reading this autobiography of Adrian will feel the same with every new chapter. Until next time, happy reading!

Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised,
as they start to cry. Hands held to the sky.
In the night, the fires burning bright,
the ritual has begun, Satan's work is done.
666, the number of the beast,
sacrifice is going on tonight-

"The Number of the Beast"-Iron Maiden

Number of the Beast

There is an old saying that if you believe in one you have to believe in the other. Christians often use this rhetoric to prove the existence of God, but I seem to notice that this statement is used more to comfort those who have experienced some sort of tragedy. The philosophy behind it seems to be that there is evil in this world, but there is also good. I have never questioned that there are forces of good and evil in this world, because they have been around me ever since birth, but I never thought that I would see the source of evil.

One year after my father's defeat Maria and I (along with Lysander) were enjoying dinner at the Belmont home when Father Miceadu started pounding on the front door. When we let him inside he was out of breath. All of us rose to meet him, while Lysander tugged at his pant leg.

"What is it Father?" Richter asked, deeply concerned.

"Richter, it's my church," he said, after catching his breath.

"What about it?" I asked.

"The church is on fire!"

I gasped, and I probably gasped more than anybody in the room did; but my gasp was not because the church was on fire. Obviously I did not want the church to burn down, but I was more worried about the houses around the church—including my own! If that fire was to spread the entire town could have been engulfed in the flames. It would have been a lot easier to rebuild the church over rebuilding the town.

"How did this happen?" Maria asked.

"I don't know, Maria. It's possible that someone came inside to light a prayer candle and the flame caught something flammable."

"There was no one inside the church, right?" asked Annette.

"No, some of the villagers smashed the windows and called inside the church. There was no response. Right now the villagers are trying to save the church, but I came here looking for help."

"Help with what?" I asked him.

"I need someone to go inside and rescue the Eucharist."

I gave Miceadu a look of shock. I could not believe that he was worried about the Eucharist.

"Why are you worried, Father?" asked Richter. "You know the teaching, as do I, that Christ cannot be destroyed."

"I know that Belmont, but I still believe that the Eucharist must be rescued."

To this day, I still have no idea why Miceadu was so concerned over rescuing the Eucharist from that burning building. And to this day, I still have no idea why I agreed to rescue it for him.

When Richter, Miceadu, and I arrived at the church I knew that it was not going to be saved. Flames had engulfed the church, but fortunately the bucket brigade of villagers were able to keep the flames from spreading to other buildings. As far as I am concerned those villagers who assisted with the bucket brigade were more of a hero than I ever was on that day. I risked my life when I went inside that church. For all I knew, at any moment the roof could have collapsed on me making Maria and widow with two babies to eventually raise alone. Not only was the thought of the roof collapsing a problem, so was the heat. The heat that came from the burning pews was tremendous, and sweat dripped into my eyes, affecting my vision. Not that it really mattered, because the white smoke that filled the church made it nearly impossible for me to see anyway. But I was familiar with the church's layout, because I had attended Mass a few times here with Maria; and the tabernacle that held the Eucharist was positioned right behind the altar.

I walked through the church at a fast, but steady pace. I knew that this building was going to crumble, and I did not want to trip over a piece of broken wood and be trapped inside when it finally did.

I approached the tabernacle and quickly removed its contents, but it was in that moment that I heard a voice. The voice was one of power yet of love.

"Adrian," it called.

I quickly turned around. I tried to find out where the voice was coming from, and for a moment I forgot that I was the only one inside the church. No one was there. It was me and only me inside this burning building. But when I started to exit the church the voice called to me again.

"Who's there?!" I shouted.

This time the voice responded. "I am who am."

I may not be an expert on the Bible or Christian theology, but I knew exactly whom that statement referred to. "God?"

"Yes, Adrian, and I've much more that I want to tell you, but now's not the time. Don't worry though, you'll see me again soon."

I do not know if I was in a trance or what, because the next thing I remembered was Father Miceadu screaming at me to get out of the building before it collapses. And I did escape the church, holding the Eucharistic container only moments before it did.

That night I had a dream, or at least I thought it was a dream. In my 'dream' was a man, a man with wounds in His hands, feet, and side. There is only one man in history that I know would fit such a description, and for some reason I found humor in meeting Him. "I always figured that I would be the last person you would want to visit."

"He who is last is first."

"Wouldn't you rather talk with Richter or Miceadu? They're priests who actually serve you. I'm just someone who's here."

"You're wrong Adrian. You're the person I need right now."

"Me? For what?!"

"To be my servant."

"I think you've chosen the wrong man."

"I never choose the wrong man! God doesn't make mistakes! Besides, I've chosen you before as an instrument to defeat your father, and now I need you to defeat an even more powerful enemy."

Now I was slightly interested in what God had to say. "What do you mean?"

"The church that was destroyed tonight was by the direct power of the Devil."

The world 'direct' took my by surprise. "What?!"

"Yes, you heard me correctly."

"But how can you expect me to defeat the Devil?"

"With my help."

Then I started chuckling. "Richter and Miceadu'll never believe me."

"They will very soon." After His closing statement the vision faded.

The next night, at Father Miceadu's request, Richter, Annette, Maria, and I all gathered at his rectory. Miceadu held an icon of the Holy Trinity. At first I did not understand why, but soon I would understand.

"I'm glad that all of you could come," he told us. "Richter and I did some investigative work today into my church's fire. Scattered among the rubble was an oily rag. I've no idea how that rag got there, but two hours later I would know."

"Where did the rag come from Father?" asked Richter.

"Belmont, that rag was placed inside the church by a possessed man."

"What?!" all of us exclaimed.

"How do you know that?!" added Richter.

"Father Belmont, after we parted company I took a nap. I woke up when I heard someone knocking on my door. It was a man dressed all in black. He wore a hood over his face, so I couldn't tell what he looked like. I asked him what he wanted, and he told me that he wanted me to hear his confession. I invited him into the home and into the living room where we currently stand. Normally I'll not break the seal of the confession, but because this man was a demon I feel that I can do so in good conscious."

"A demon?" I replied, stunned by Father Miceadu's choice of words.

"Yes, Adrian you heard me correctly, a cold-hearted demon."

I did not know what to think about Miceadu's description of the man who came to him for confession. But then again, I supposedly saw Jesus Christ.

"Please go on Father," added Richter.

"Well, I asked him to tell me what offenses had he committed against God, and he told me that he was a murder. I was stunned, but it's my job to help sinners. I asked him how did he become a murder, and he told me that it was last night when he possessed a man to burn a church to the ground.

I asked him if the church he was referring to was mine and he said, 'yes'. Then I asked him what did he mean by possessed, and he told me that under his master's orders he possessed the soul of a weak minded man and forced him to commit this act.

Next I asked him who his master was, and he told me that his master was the Devil.

Finally, I offered him the grace of Jesus Christ, but he blasphemed the name of Jesus; and told me that he was sorry that he did not decapitate the man he possessed to burn the church."

All of us were absolutely silent. It was so quiet in that room that we could have heard a pin drop. I watched Maria and Annette rub their pregnant bellies. They were obviously frightened, and rubbing their pregnant bellies was, I guess, a way to help them cope with that fear. When Miceadu continued, Maria moved closer to me and Annette moved closer to Richter.

"The man added that he and his master will do what Vlad Tepes couldn't.

When I finally asked him why was he telling me all of this he told me that he always likes to tell people his plots just before he kills them; and after that he lunged at me, but I was able to push him away.

Finally he revealed his face to me—a horrible wretched face. This man looked like a corpse—flesh was rotting off his face. There was no light in his eyes. The look he gave to me was of a man without a soul, or if he had a soul it was already burning in Hell.

He lunged at me again, but I sidestepped him, and grabbed my icon of the Holy Trinity—this same icon that I now hold before all of you—from the wall and held it before him. He recoiled and snarled at the image, just like I would expect a demon to do. The icon kept him at bay, long enough for me to grab a bottle of holy water and sprinkle it on him. The blessed water burned his skin as though it had been acid. He departed from the rectory, and I haven't seen him since; but I've still been holding this icon of the Trinity close to me and asking for God's protection."

Nobody said a word. We were all silent, until an outside voice pierced that silence.

"So He's onto me!" it declared.

All of us tried to find the source of the voice, and when it was revealed it was nothing more than a black shadow-less figure.

"Who're you?" I declared.

"'The Accuser' is what I'm referred to as in Hebrew."

I am not an expert on Hebrew, but I knew what 'The Accuser' means.

"Satan?"

"Good guess, Adrian. I don't suppose that I need to explain anymore, because I'm sure He has already explained enough."

"He?" I asked.

"You know who the 'He' is I'm referring to Adrian Tepes."

"I'm afraid that I don't."

The Devil appeared to sigh. "You saw Him last night."

"Who did you see, Adrian?" asked Richter.

"I saw…or at least I thought I saw Jesus Christ."

"There is no thinking Adrian. You saw Him. And if you wish to face me come to your boyhood home…"

"Depart!" shouted a voice, cutting the Devil off. I am not sure if the voice was God or an angel, but whoever it was, it repelled the Devil away and erased the fears of Maria and Annette. Maria and Annette were cowering behind Richter and I until whoever it was erased their fears. I do not know if it was God or an angel, but whoever it was, it made Maria and Annette no longer remembered our confrontation with the Devil.

When Richter, Miceadu, and I were able to get away from Maria and Annette, Miceadu asked me, "Adrian, what did the Lord tell you?"

"He told me that He needed me as His instrument to fight the Devil."

"Then let us fulfill the Lord's request," replied Richter.

The reference to my 'boyhood home' was obvious. Satan was referring to the Castle, and when we looked outside we saw the Castle gleaming through the moonlight. This is probably the only time that Castle Dracula lived while its master was dead.

The next day Richter, Miceadu, and I set out for the Castle. Unlike my last visit to the Castle we decided to try and remain on the main road, although we did occasionally take an alternative root off the main path.

When we finally reached the Castle we expected the final battle to take place in the throne room, and we were not disappointed. The Devil waited for us, with his black shadow hovering over my father's throne. "So you've come to challenge me?" he declared.

"We'll send you back to Hell!" declared Father Miceadu.

"Hmm, that's easier said than done, priest."

"God has sent us on this mission," added Richter.

"Similar to 'onward Christian soldiers.' That brings back a lot of memories of the many crusaders doing plenty of UN-Christian acts."

Then the Devil seemed to turn to me. "You seem to know things like that don't you, Adrian?"

"What're you getting at?"

"You know, your mother."

"He's trying to tempt you Adrian, don't listen!" responded Richter.

"Tempt you with what? Am I, or am I not telling you the truth?"

I nodded and said, "You're telling the truth, but if you're trying to make me hate humans over what happened to my mother forget it. None of the humans living today are responsible for what happened, and to hate humans would be going against with my mother taught me a long time ago."

"Miceadu's a descendent of one of the men that killed your mother."

I looked at Miceadu and he looked back at me. Miceadu appeared shocked at what the Devil revealed to us.

"Adrian," Miceadu began, "forgive me for any of the sins of my ancestors."

"Your ancestors were forgiven a long time ago. Furthermore, if people were to be held accountable for the sins of their ancestors I would be in a lot more trouble than anybody else in this room." Then I turned and looked at the Devil. "Your temptations aren't working."

"Hmm," he replied, dejected; "it makes no difference, Baatezu!"

The Devil waved his shadow-like arm to reveal a man dressed all in black with a hideous face.

"That's him!" shouted Miceadu. "That's the man who attacked me in the rectory."

Baatezu laughed. "Yes, it's me priest. And if it wasn't for that damned icon I could've eliminated you right there and then!"

"You'll harm no one," I replied, as I unsheathed my sword. Richter cracked his whip, and Miceadu raised his crucifix, which brought a snarl to the mouth of Baatezu.

The crucifix appeared to keep Baatezu at bay, and I thought that perhaps we could make short work of this Baatezu, but while we paid too much attention to him the Devil cast a fire spell that struck the crucifix and forced Miceadu to drop it.

"Are you sure God's with you, priest?" the Devil asked in an attempt to discourage us.

Miceadu nodded firmly. "Yes."

But during the dialog exchange between the priest and the Devil, Richter cracked his whip into Baatezu's chest. The monster fell to the Castle's wall. Richter tried to follow the attack with another, but Baatezu dodged.

"Fucking bastard!" the monster shouted, before attempting a charge. Richter merely sidestepped Baatezu and I slashed him with my sword. At first I thought this battle might be relatively simple, because in all honesty Lysander—who at the time was not even two—could have fought me better than this.

But Baatezu had some untapped power. He raised his arms and levitated into the air. Then his entire body became engulfed in flames. Finally he attacked us as though he was a bat; the only difference was that he flew at us with the speed of a bullet from a gun.

The three of us did our best to dodge him, but almost every time we dodged him we had no time to counterattack. Richter and I could handle this, but Miceadu could not. He did his best to dodge all the attacks he could, but finally his body gave in to fatigue. He was struck down by Baatezu's flame along his side. He fell to the ground, but did not die.

Instead he kept his wits. While on his back, Miceadu raised a piece of the Host. The power of Christ stopped the monster dead in its tracks. Baatezu's face was absolutely terrified, and that fear made him look even more ugly!

He never took another step, which was all the time I needed to run my sword through his back. Baatezu crumbled into a pile of sulfurous ash, back to Hell where he belongs. I quickly removed my blade from the ashes, and searched for Baatezu's master.

I found his shadow-figure staring at the Eucharist, Miceadu was still holding. The Devil snarled at the Host, signifying his defeat, and disappeared under a cloud of flames.

Richter and I immediately charged over to Miceadu. I asked him if he was all right, but then I examined his wound. It was disgusting, almost as bad as Baatezu's face, and I feared that it probably had become infected.

Richter did his best to clean and bandage the wound while I talked to Miceadu. Surprisingly, he still remained positive. "This is a great day, Adrian," he said to me with a smile.

I was confused. How could he think it was a great day after being wounded like that? Still, I did not want to express any negativity, so I tried to smile. "Yes, we won."

"Yes, we did, but that's not what I meant."

"It's not?"

"No. It's a great day because I took a wound in the service of Christ. It's just like St. Paul said, 'I am crucified with Christ yet I live'." Miceadu was such a devoted priest. I always admired that quality about him.

"Well, Father," Richter responded, after he did his best to clean and bandage his wound; "it'll be an even better day once we get you out of here."

Almost at the moment Richter finished his sentence the Castle began to rumble. I was worried. I did not want us to make haste in how we carried Miceadu to the point that we would hurt him, but how could Richter and I not make haste when the Castle was beginning to crumble?

"Here Father, let me carry you," I told Miceadu as I quickly—but gently—lifted him onto my shoulder.

"Don't worry about me," he told us. "You've got to worry more about yourselves right now. The two of you're about to celebrate the births of two knew children!"

"Yes, we are, Father," I told him. "And I want you to be the one who baptizes my new baby."

"Same here," added Richter.

The three of us escaped the Castle just before it crumbled, but I could tell on our journey home that Miceadu was becoming weaker and weaker everyday. Richter and I asked a nun in the convent near our village to look after him.

Shortly after Richter and I returned home our wives gave birth. For Richter it was a baby girl, Sidra. Sidra reminds me so much of her mother in terms of appearance, with her brown eyes and brown hair. But in terms of how she acts when Maria and I see her, she somehow reminds me of her father.

Maria and I had another baby boy, Alcander Renard Tepes. Alcander certainly inherited his blonde hair from both of us, but his green eyes distinctly belong to his mother. Maria always tells me that Alcander has my chin and smile, but his cheeks look almost exactly like his mother.

Richter and I were both happy that approximately one week after Maria and Annette gave birth (Alcander and Sidra were born just a day apart) Miceadu was well enough to baptize our children. The happiness that he showed on his face made me think that for a moment he was going to survive that wound, but it was not to be. Less that one day after the baptisms, Father Miceadu went to be with his Jesus.