I don’t really have the drive, desire, or spoons available to write anything at night normally. I always just want to lie down and let my throbbing head throb in the cold and dark of my bedroom. However, a thought occurred to me tonight.

I was watching John Oliver, a episode he did a few weeks back about police reform, and it occurred to me that I used to live in Los Angeles, California. Now when I say I lived in Los Angeles, I don’t mean that I lived in the suburbs, we lived downtown for a couple of years.

I remember the LAPD driving around, handing all of us baseball cards. I’m assuming it was some community outreach thing, or maybe it was just a really nice cop that I just don’t happen to remember seeing constantly. What I do remember, is what was on the back of the baseball cards instead of the statistics that I loved, and still do love, to look at.

What I saw there, was a random police officer, it would give his likes, dislikes, a little like a basic interview format. Nothing important, nothing big.

Except, it kind of was.

Now I’ll be the first one to admit that I could be misremembering this entire thing, but when you are, as I was at the time, five to eight years old, you are highly susceptible to education and propaganda. Your brain is a motherfucking sponge that absorbs information more than life itself. It’s why you start school at that age, it’s why a lot of development happens all at once around that age.

So, I’m sitting here 35 years later realizing that they were handing us baseball cards with the baseball player that we all idolized on one side and an LAPD officer on the other. Now, call me a little jaded my old age, but I have a feeling that we were supposed to associate one with the other.

I may be talking out of my ass here, I understand that, I recognize that.

I remember my favorite baseball player when I was a kid was Eddie Murray. Eddie Murray played first base for the Dodgers and he was my fucking hero. We used to chant his name when we went up to Chavez Ravine to watch the Dodgers play live,and when he did anything, every kid in the goddamn stadium would go insane.

I’m not going to say that I remember the name of the police officer that was on the back of his card, but I remember it was a very tall white guy, and the reason I remember he was very tall, was because he was standing next to his police car, and the roof of it had to have hit him just about at the waist, again childhood embellishment notwithstanding.

So, were the children of the Los Angeles Police Department’s area of influence brainwashed to believe that the hero’s they saw in baseball players should be associated with those who protect and serve?

I am not smart enough to answer this question, I am just the old guy laying in bed with a migraine who had an idea and likes to write in a little blog.

Question everything Gentle Readers, nothing is for free, not even a baseball card.

Venenum’s Crusade

Each face in the room took on a snarling countenance as they saw and immediately recognized the filth in the picture Delilah showed them.

Desdemona spoke first, all hints of her happiness erased in an instant with two simple words. “Moon Beasts.”

Now, Moon Beasts was a name their father used, hence they did, but the rest of the world, human and otherwise, called them the ever-popular moniker of Werewolves. Cursed and broken things that were once men of shamanic power that gave away their humanity for the ability to shape themselves into the feral dogs they worshiped. Most humans knew that par, and if you got attacked you joined their ranks, but unlike the Vampires, the Moon Beasts were sadistic in their hunting tactics. In medieval Europe, it was an easy enough thing to deal with if a Saxon village disappeared, but the money The Authority had to spend when they had eaten, literally eaten, the entire population of Fresno, California had been immense. They had moved tens of thousands of people over the course of a few days. Money had been paid to everyone, everywhere. It had taken hundreds of millions of dollars and thousands of hours to make it right.

That was just a single pack of these monstrous fiends.

Delilah took a deep breath and began her report, she had not been looking forward to this since she received the news this morning. It wasn’t a question of “winning” or “losing”, there was no way for them to lose this, it was the cost, in money and political favor, to clean up whatever disaster these mindless savages made.

“This picture was taken by one of the scouts we assigned to Southern California after the disaster in Fresno. Obviously, there is only one in this photo, but if it is the same pack, there will be forty to fifty normal beasts and at least three to five alphas. It is the full moon too so while the humans may believe what they will about when the things come out, we all know all the full moon does is make them a dozen times stronger than they usually are…”

“Sister Stop.” The voice was full of the power it had always had the potential to have, but never shown. Venenum stood up and walked into the room proper, his features shown for the first time to all of them in countless hundreds of years, his taking refuge in the darkness accepted by all of them as wanting to hide his visage as a matter of personal honor. The candle flames all turned a violent green and cast the room in a hideous light, the shadows showing more than what was there.

Venenum stood in front of them now next to Delilah. He towered over her by nearly two feet yet the hunch in his back and the ravage scars of the Church made him seen almost her height. He had lost one eye long ago in Sheba fighting for the people who would eventually betray him. His feet had been misshapen and broken in the Inquisition, his right arm withered and rotting due to a curse from a Witch in Medieval France. he could have looked like a sculpted Greek god if he chose to, no damage to them was permanent, but he allowed his wounds to stay, to remember the failures and not repeat them. He was and had always been, the chief of the forces that went to war for their kind in times of need.

“We will not buy people. We will not move people. We will not make calls to the damn men in suits. No. Not this time.” His voice was full of hatred and bile. His first wife having been taken by the beasts in Rome and eaten slowly over months, which she was still alive and in agony.

“I will go to California immediately, you will make the usual accommodations for me Delilah. I will take Drysun with me and we will take care of the Moon Beasts.” Delilah began to speak and Venenum raised his good hand and shook his head. “I did not ask this Delilah, I am the Marshall of the Forces as our Father made me, I will take the fight to the enemy. This conversation is over.” The flames on the candle exploded all at once and the room was bathed in the darkness of their brothers’ mood.

The Authority – The Table Is Set

There are so very few people who know the story. They pretend they do, or they make up their versions. truly, only her father knows all of the tales and she has not asked him for why would she want to bring up pain unbearable in the man she loves the most in all of the world.

Delilah was cursed, or blessed if you want to see it as such, with an eidetic memory. She remembered everything she had ever seen. It was not a part of Cain, it was hers alone in his lineage that she was aware of. Imagine the burden of being able to recall everything you have ever seen for more centuries than people even knew time was kept by man. She remembered jealously looking at the children of Seth play with one another, the Nephilim dying in the Deluge as she simply floated, knowing she would never die under the water if she were to go under it.

She was in Jerusalem that afternoon, standing on the Via Dolorosa as He walked by to His death, even His father not caring for Him. She had seen centuries of history and she was damned, literally and figuratively, if she would have the mistakes of the past repeated in the world that she and The Authority were building. She and her fellow members did not see the humans as cattle as some of their kind did, nor did they idolize them and envy their mortality. She saw them as they were, equal save for a single twisted part of their core. She was not better than them, she simply lived when they died. She would go and watch the movies they made and see her kind dying in sunlight and with crucifixes, garlic and running water and she would laugh. Immortality meant that. Death was not ever a thing that could happen. All wounds would heal. Cut off their head, it simply grew a new body. Burn them and spread the ashes? The wind brought all things together in time.

A few clever mortals over the centuries had collected the ashes and kept them in jars so they could not recombine. Delaying the inevitable is not preventing it. All things degrade, decay, break down and turn into nothingness.

All save them.

They got a few things right. There were clans of them, although it was more branches of the same family tree. They did truly despise one another sometimes. However, again, they kept thinking even we could kill one another, but no, they had all tried to die a thousand times in a thousand ways and nothing had ever worked. They had magic and powers, they were super strong and super fast, they drank blood and could indeed inject what was now known as a DNA altering virus into the bloodstream and cause them to be as them.

But, no, not really.

Only descendants of Cain lived forever. Those made did indeed have a vast span of years, but they could be killed in all the ways that they could not. It was a way to maintain a population standard if nothing else.


Delilah walked into the room and it grew silent. She always wondered what they remembered when they saw her. What century, what millennium? She shook the thought away and carefully set down her laptop on the great marble table where the rest of The Authority was sitting, save for one who sat in a dark corner.

“We will have the names called, we will speak their names and give them the ruling power they deserve by their name being said aloud by those touched by God’s Wrath and Disfavor.” Her father had told her to say those words before every meeting and so she had, every single time, for century after century.

She stood up, a black dress hugging her figure, her white-blonde hair standing in contrast to the rest of the ensemble. A few inches above five feet she was by far the shortest in the room, but what she lacked in vertical magnificence she made up for in the sheer power that being the first of them granted her. Her voice was deep and resonant as she said her name. “Delilah.” It flowed over the table and lit one of seven candles standing over the middle of the table and a purple and black flame burning on the wick. As the candle lit, Delilah sat down, her respect for the rest of her Family and Authority much higher than some would think.

From the back corner, hidden in shadow came voice filled with anger and pain both. “Venenum.” The table shook a moment before stopping, his power was visible as it moved across the room, a green and white pestilence that threatened to cover everything it came near. The candle more exploded in flame then lit. There was so much anger and pain in him, even the name he had chosen all those years ago meant poison.

Laughter next, not at his brother in the darkness, but the farce of this whole thing. No one cared about the fucking candles and they were all just afraid of hurting Daddy’s feelings or some shit. “Risus.” It wasn’t his real name, none of them save Delilah used theirs, but it was his voice, which was enough to light the candle with a pale pink flame.

Tears followed, a soft weeping that had never truly stopped in all the years he had been alive. Of all of them, he despised what he was more than any of them. “Solustri.” A barely audible voice through the genuine pain made each one of them feel for him in a way only family could, his candle lit with a low blue flame that tipped with yellow drops, like tears he shed eternally.

The next voice was sultry, dripping sex and power and unabashed joy. “Desdemona”. The candle exploded into a neon red flame almost instantly, her laughter following it as it had forever. While her brother wept eternal at his damning, Desdemona reveled in having immortality to taste every single decadence and excess she could. She even invented a few along the way.

“Dinah.” The voice was short, curt, even bored. She buried her head back into her phone and would not be bothered again save for something pressing, which is what she was in charge of, oddly enough. Her world was the computer and the phone, as it had been the salon before that, the bathhouses before that and the village squares since time immemorial. Her flame lit with a snap and an oaken colored flame burned.

Lastly, and so very much not least, the youngest and largest of them spoke. His voice deep and bestial, he despised speaking for that reason and he roared his name into the room. “Drysun.” When the echo had died, his flame lit the centermost candle, pulsing colors of the rainbow entire.

Satisfied the traditions had been met, Delilah opened her laptop and turned the screen so all could see the picture. A large…thing…of black and grey fur, covered blood and gore and surrounded by the same.

“We have a problem.”

Delilah – Quasi-Introduction

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?