Unca Cheeks the Toy Wonder's Silver Age Comics Web Site!
. . . or: Why THE TOMB OF DRACULA Was the Greatest Horror Comic Ever. (Part Three)
Before the birthing of Dracula's son, however... another prodigal (with
the blood of a vampire coursing through his veins, as well) was undergoing
his own trials and tribulations, in turn.
The stoic Blade -- whose entire existence often seemed predicated upon
the
notion: "there's killing vampires... and then there's everything else
in life" -- had long since discovered that he was immune to the transforming
bite of the undead, due to his mother having been assaulted by a night-flier
mere moments prior to his own delivery .
Utilizing this unique "gift" in the service of his self-appointed life's work (i.e., locating and liquidating the undead fiend who'd slain his mother), Blade eventually managed to track down the vampire in question... only to find himself confronted by an extremely startled Hannibal King!
It seemed that "the stinkin', white-haired vamp" whose bite had alchemized King into one of the night's legion was precisely the same one responsible for the ghoulish murder of Blade's own mater.
This, naturally enough, lent itself to a certain amount of territorial pushing-and-shoving betwixt the two men, as each one felt that his claim was the stronger, and that he should be the one toend the wretched creature's existence.
Eventually, the enormity of the threat posed by Deacon Frost -- the vampire in question, who'd been quietly amassing a personal "power base" for himself amongst the undead rank and file, in an attempt to challenge the dominion and authority of Dracula, himself -- necessitated that the pair throw their lots in with one another, or risk being slain separately, as a result.
As always: careful, literate scripting on the part of Marv Wolfman (ably
aided and abetted by the Colan/Palmer art team) served to render the story arc
the equal of the issues preceding it in the canon. Readers were, by now,
simply expecting the lauded (and multiple award-winning) TOMB to be the
best comic on the stands. It was a "given," in comic book circles: an element of the fannish rosary of the day, on a par with the bedrock beliefs
that "Hulk Is The Strongest One There Is," and "Marvel
Comics Will Always Outsell DC Comics." 
However: with the introduction of the "Domini" and "Janus" story arcs... Wolfman managed to surpass the comfortable, baseline assumptions of even the most devout TOMB partisans. Quite simply: with the possible exception of the Len Wein/Berni Wrightson SWAMP THING series, over at DC... it was the closest the comics medium had yet ventured (however haltingly) towards the rarefied climes of Honest, No Foolin' Art.
The woman known throughout the series' run only as "Domini" [see pictures, above] was a serene, classically featured "madonna/whore": a woman who -- for reasons of her own -- had sworn undyinglove and allegiance to Dracula, shortly after encountering him during one of his ravening nocturnal prowls. He, in turn -- so taken was he by her unearthly beauty -- took the placid, seemingly imperturbable woman as his wife and consort, refusing to "sully" her by gifting her with the transforming Kiss of the Undying.
When their unsanctified union eventually bore monstrous fruit [see pictures, accompanying], Dracula and mate gifted their half-human, half-inhuman issue with the name "Janus." The vampire lord entertained grand aspirations for his only son: a figure capable (or so he believed) of straddling both the worlds of the living and the dead, and -- ultimately -- holding unquestioned dominion over both.
However: Fate (or something greater than fate) had already charted a different path for the young Janus. His growth quickly (and unnaturally) accelerated by an unknown agency, the changeling "grew" into the role of a luminescent, unselfish avatar of good... and -- after finding himself in bloody conflict with Dracula's dark machinations -- was, ultimately, slain by his own sire ...
... but not before a grief-ravaged Dracula discovered, at last, the ultimate author of his miseries... and, with that knowledge, the sickening, soul-deadening certainty that his own hour of Judgment Final and Sure was -- now and forever -- pre-ordained...
... and: that in having stolen the life of his own progeny... It. Was. All. His. Fault.
Like I said: anything but your standard "BOO! Scared
ya, didn't I?" horror comic. )
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