There is a gradient of life and death in the world. Not all that breathes is alive, not all whose hearts are cold and still are dead. It had always been such. Civilizations had been aware of it for the entirety of their existence. Vampires and Werewolves, Witches and Goblins, Faeries and Demons. All of it is true, all of it is real, and all of it truly is out to get you if you are not careful where you step in the middle of the night.
Now, while they are real, not all of the things that go bump in the night need to make their presence known at every available opportunity. They hide as they are wont to do and those that discover them are often never seen or heard from again. So, believe nothing you read, or even everything you happen to see.
The world is a dark and strange place.
It is well known where the first of the vampires came from. Everyone learns the origin stories just as they learn that 1492 is when Columbus set out on his voyage of genocide in the New World and that the Second World War had a deeper, darker and much more occult reason for ever occurring. The Mark of Cain, it is called. The biblical tale of Adam and Eve’s son, after having murdered his brother Abel, God punished Cain by saying that the foods of the earth would no longer be sustenance to him, that he would be forced to kill others as he had his brother Abel, and then drink the very source of their life. He was cast out of Paradise and into the Land of Nod where the others dwelt.
Others. A shameful title for the greatness that wandered in the darkness of ignorance of the “Loving God”. However, that is a tale for another time.
Very little is known of his time in the Land of Nod, save for those who are afflicted with his mark. It is lore they do not share with almost anyone and jealously guard it against all others with their considerable power, influence, and wealth. So, mankind simply ignores the fact that the lore exits at all, they make up their truths and tales about what happened outside of Paradise and they cling to them because sometimes the pretty lie is what they need and not the ugly truth. Names are often thrown about. Lilith is a popular name, and although she is real enough and incredible in her splendor and power, she is not the character that people make her be in this particular tale.
The name no one associates with them is Delilah. No, not that one, she came much later and played a much different, and far more simple part in the story of the world. No, this Delilah shaped, and still shapes, the world as if it were clay under her immortal fingertips. She was the first child and daughter of Cain. Yes, he has had many children, uncountable in truth. Each of them bears his mark, cursed by God to never enjoy the sustenance that the earth produced, but to drink the living essence of those that walked among them, just as he does. Yes, he lives among us still. Cain is still very much despised by God and when he was told he would not die, it was not an idle threat in the slightest.
His first seven children became what would become known as The Authority. To this day those seven are the only ones in Creation save the Vengeful God who knows where their father is. They have killed people for even remotely inquiring as to his location, so most people yet again make up their truths and accept them because it is easier than believing the third human being ever still walks the earth.
Delilah sits with them. She is the titular leader as the eldest of all of them, but they shared power in a sense. Each of them was very selfish and greedily hoarded the power that their father had imbued them with. Each of them with different gifts, different skills, but not the way one would think. There was magic in them, but there was always the reminder that they were damned. They were the hated of God, unforgivable and unacceptable for all of time. They did not hide behind things, they reveled in the darkness that was in them. Demons they have been called. Monsters and destroyers of flesh and soul.
Why would they not be when they were the absolute epitome of corruption?
© 2019, TheJameyBear. All rights reserved.
I am JameyBear. Liberal. Hippie. Dad. Widower. Poet. Author. Sarcastic Ass. Friend. Lover. Hater.
I have lied and cheated, stolen and done violence in word and deed.
I have given the shirt off my back and they wanted the skin underneath instead.
I am a notorious soft touch, wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to make everyone happy.
I tip too much, too often, too many places, and it is has burned me even as recent as this week.
I love everyone I have ever hated still. I will always love the memory of being in love with them.
I want to be your friend. No. I want you to want me to be your friend.
I am clingy and needy, dependent and hopelessly lost in times that I will never live in.
I use language that was archaic when archaic was a new word in the early 19th century.
I want to record myself reading everything so people won’t forget me when I disappear.
I talk too much, listen too deeply, process too quickly and infer way too much.
My beard is also better than yours