The Son of the Devil

"You believe that the Dracula whom Stoker met was this current Dracula's father?" I asked scratching my head.

"Yes," Jon said as he brought over several more journals including Stoker's novel. "Everything in these personal journals was true. Some of what Stoker wrote in his novel was exaggerated, but the majority of it was true."

"Why would he make things up?" I asked as Jon smiled.

"Stoker was a colorful character," he said laughing. "He used very colorful language and he loved to entertain. The false parts of the book was for dramatic purposes; he didn't want his book to be dull and boring."

"These journals are enough to entertain people for days," I mentioned chuckling. Then a thought came to my mind, "If this current guy is Dracula's son, does he have a name and what are these vampires?"

Jon looked through his bookshelf and handed me a much older book; older than the other books he presented me earlier. He had a page already marked off ad as I opened it I looked upon a creature unlike anything I have ever seen before; it looked human, but when presented with blood it turned into a wolf/vampire hybrid that primarily fed off of "Alpha blood?"

Jon nodded his head, "No one knows what these creatures are, but they are genetically designed to feed off of Alpha blood. These vampires aren't made by biting a human; these things are made to kill Alphas only."

"Who is making them?" I asked as he ushered me to turn to another marked page. I turned to look at the face of a very young looking man; since the book was in black ink and the pages were brown in color it was hard to get an idea of what this guy truly looked like. "Who is this?"

"He lived before Dr. Frankstein," Jon mentioned. "The legend says an English man by the name of Woodland Bucks made his millions by constructing an antidote to cure common diseases that people from his time suffered. He was creating another antidote, legend says, and he accidentally spilled some on his skin and his body started reacting at a magnitude that he transformed into a hideous beast. He locked himself in his lab, while still producing these antidotes, and he began to experiment. He would sneak out of the castle, late at night, and hunt wolves; one night he stumbled across a human/wolf hybrid with red eyes. He killed the wolf and drank his blood; he felt energized and rejuvenated. He took the blood back to his lab, mixed his own blood and began to create these creatures. As far as I know, they have no name and we have no idea that they exist; this book is just a legend, but from your vision I can gather that these things do exist and Macai and his pack are in danger."

"Do you believe that this guy who calls himself Dracula is really Bucks?" I asked Jon who seemed to agree with my logical thought pattern.

"No one knew about these beasts except Bucks so he is my only logical guess," Jon said as I nodded my head in agreement.

"In the legend, was Dracula mentioned?" I asked, but Jon shook his head.

"The legend claims he turned into a beast by the chemical reaction he mixed in his lab," he said, "but nothing about Dracula."

"Alright," I said closing the book. "Get the others and tell them what you have found. I am going up to the archives and seeing if I can find any information on this guy or these beasts." Jon nodded his head and headed for the door before I stopped him, "Thank you for apologizing and thank you for sharing this information."

"You're welcome on both accounts," Jon said smiling. He walked out and I could feel my blood pressure rising and my face became flushed; I got hot all over like I wanted to jump on him and just ravish him on my satin bed, but I ignored my strong impulse, put pants on, and headed straight for the archives.

Later, we met in the library and we sat to discuss this problem we had; the main problem was deciding whether this Dracula was really Bucks and how we would kill him. The problem was not if we could kill him, the problem and question was could we kill him?

"If he is the new Dracula, is there a way to kill him?" I asked Jon.

"According to the original Dracula legend there is no mortal weapon that can kill the demon," Jon said as he paced, but I clearly saw that even he was running out of ideas. "If he is Dracula and sold his soul then we have no chance of defeating him."

"Don't be so sure," Harry said smiling as he looked over at Hermione whom was also smiling. He got up, went over to one of the bookshelfs, pulled a book off, and started turning pages rapidly. "There is an ancient weapon that can kill any creature ever created, good or evil; even the original Dracula. Here it is," Harry said throwing down the book on the table, "it's called Chumhacht deiridh."

"That sounds good," Ben said as he rolled his eyes. "So how do we get ahold of this thing?"

"It's not something that you can just conjure up," Harry said pointing to the book as I took it and started to read.

"Chumhacht deiridh, or ultimate power, was created by the One and Only from the flames of Hell and the Blood of the powerful," I read. Was this instrument really made by the original ultimate power? I kept reading, "Legend has it, the sickle was too dangerous to be kept in the open, so the ultimate power hid the sickle in the inner most layer of Hell." I looked at Harry and almost laughed, "Aren't the layers of Hell a myth?"

"They are very much real," Hermione chimed in, "I have friends who have been down there. There are hundreds of layers."

"Dante thought otherwise," I said scoffing.

"Dante didn't know shit," Harry said, "he wrote that story for entertainment purposes. He clearly wasn't informed properly. The sickle is the in the inner most layer."

"That sounds like the center of Hell," Ben said and that got me thinking about who put the sickle there in the first place.

"If the sickle is in the center of Hell, someone must have been very powerful I order to put it there," I mentioned.

"Why do you say that?" Ben asked me.

"The book mentions that each level has its own evil," I said scanning passages in the book, "the deeper you go the more of a risk you have of dying. Each level kills something inside of you until there is nothing left; no mortal has ever survived."

"Ok so with that being said who put the sickle down there?" Jon asked.

"The last ultimate power," Harry said crossing his arms and leaning against a table.

"Mom."