Chapter One

             The wind hit his face with such force his skin was numb from pain. He blinked but it tore into him, an agony he could only escape by closing his eyes. And the heat, roasting him alive as blue flames danced along his flesh. It seemed like he had been falling forever, a living meteor making its way to the earth under him. He opened his eyes to see ships and satellites above him and the clouds below rush towards him, closing in on him like a tidal wave of the purest white.

            In a futile gesture, he put his hands in front of his face, anticipating the contact with the clouds. But when the night sky was blotted out by white, the ethereal touch was a twisted joy, as if he knew the fall would end but his heart raced at the clouds’ gentle embrace.

            As suddenly as he entered the cloud layer, he was out, staring wide-eyed at the ground below him. Massive cities lit up the earth with their steel majesty, almost like living creatures themselves, and choked up the few remaining woods and plains with their highways and buildings. Small ships flew around like ants above an anthill, and the roads were veins for the traffic of the city’s heart. And in the city directly underneath him was a building that dwarfed everything else like a mountain of steel, shining with a sick green glow that bled onto the city around it.

            The wonders he saw overpowered the pain, and he couldn’t close his eyes. Everywhere he looked were marvels, inanimate metal brought to life. But like any good trip it always comes to an end, and his end was impending doom.

            Oh God, he thought, what have I done to deserve this? His last thought, this flaming shooting star, was a prayer that he could just do something right for once. Just do—

            Darkness.

            His consciousness slowly came to him, rising to the top of the dark waters of his subconscious. He was cold, and convulsions shook him like an earthquake. He opened bright green eyes to see the last of the faint blue fire sputter out after dancing along his fingers. Dew clung to him and the grass that was inches from his face; I must have been out a long time, he thought. A single white feather rested in the grass, but it trembled as if trying to fly away in the cold wind. As his eyes focused, the sky was a sick green from the smog, just like the glowing building.

            He sat up to see headstones surrounding him; he was laying in a graveyard. And in the center he saw a small chapel, a man among giants when compared to the titanic buildings all around it. It was a lifeless gray, with the paint chipped and falling off the sides. The ancient wood underneath was rotten, and the only thing keeping this church standing was the faith that hid within. Sitting atop the roof was a tiny cross with the moon behind it, perverted when one looked at the green of the sky.

            At this he looked at himself and noticed that he had a cross also, a simple gold crucifix that dangled from a golden chain. His pale skin was bare except for a white silk loincloth and cross-garter sandals on his feet, and he had a plain golden ring on his right hand with no markings on it at all.

            What now, he thought. Figuring the church was the only logical choice, he brought himself to his feet and brushed his long blonde hair from his face. The windows had been knocked out long ago, and the door was worse than the sides, rotten wood that barely clung to the hinges as he pushed his way into the little chapel.

            In the darkness he saw a dozen rows of pews that were torn apart by time, and carpet that had sucked up all the rain that made it through the windows, a strong smell of mildew permeating the building. Books littered the ground, bibles ripped and their pages thrown everywhere. The only thing in good condition was the crucifix hanging behind the altar. A wooden Jesus wearing the crown of thorns hung from an old wooden cross. At least these people respected something, he thought. He was drawn to it, and he walked the last couple yards to it and fell to his knees in prayer.

            “Get up, I thought you had more respect for yourself than that,” a voice behind him said. He whirled around to find an old man wearing a priest’s suit standing before him. He was rather tall and thin, and his hair and beard had turned gray, but his original black still shone through. He stood straight, like a military officer, and his eyes were the most startling green he had ever seen. He had an odd confidence to himself; like in his years he had learned something the young man had not.

            “That’s better. I hate when people actually do that, it’s so demeaning,” he said with an odd smile. “Welcome to the Metropolis of Babylon son. This is the largest city in the world, and my little church was abandoned long ago for bigger and better things.”

            “Who are you?” the younger man replied.

            “My name is Father Asmodeus, and I have been at this church for longer than you could imagine.” Once again his face was split by that odd smile. “And considering how you got here you’re probably wondering who you are yourself.”

            A sick feeling spread in the man’s stomach as he realized he didn’t know who he was, where he was, or how he had even got here. He had reacted on impulse to a situation he didn’t realize. His memory was just one huge white fog that he could not pierce no matter how hard he tried.

            “Yes, I figured as much. Can’t even remember how you got here? Well I know both, but you only need to hear one of the answers. You are a Paladin, a warrior of the faith. Welcome to the Jihad son,” said Asmodeus.

            “A what? Welcome to the what?” the paladin replied.

            “A Paladin, a holy warrior. You have been brought here to help resurrect what has died on its own, bring back what is rightfully dead. And the Jihad is the war you will have to wage to do such a grand thing as revive an ancient religion like this,” Asmodeus said with an odd grin. “You are on a mission, a quest if you will, and your opposition is stronger than you will ever be. Forces of darkness have already prepared for your arrival, and survival should become your first priority.”

            “What are you saying? I have some holy quest? Who the hell are you?” the paladin said, not believing a word this old psycho said.

            “That really doesn’t matter. Soon you will know I speak the truth when trouble is beset on you, and you don’t have much time, so listen well. Welcome to Babylon, like I said before, the City of Sins. This is the capital of the new world, and the seat of the Emperor’s power. It is the only place that the Emperor rules himself, and not one of his ten kings that control the separate regions. This is an age of pure darkness, and there is nothing the Emperor cannot do, nothing.” The last he said with a note of finality that left no question to Paladin. “His armies are huge, and the people are forced to worship him as a god, or die a traitor’s death. All of the ancient religions have been outlawed, and by some miracle I have survived when my peers have not,” Asmodeus said with that same odd smile.

            “You will have to decide what your quest is for yourself, because not even I know that. You are more prepared than you think, and you must be prepared to take the path that is your legacy.”

            “So you’re saying I have some mystical quest that you don’t know, and I have to fight the forces of evil and then have a happy ending? You know what man? Fuck you psycho. I’m out of here,” the paladin said, fed up with the crazed old man. Right as he turned to leave, Asmodeus reached out and touched the paladin’s forehead with the tips of his fingers.

            “I bless you my son. I’ll see you again, and I leave you with this; don’t trust anyone,” Asmodeus said right as the paladin slammed the door shut behind him. And then as if to himself he muttered, “Psycho? You have no idea, child. No idea at all.”

            A light drizzle fell on the paladin as he stormed through the graveyard, shivering in his loincloth. What the hell does that senile old man know, he thought to himself. My legacy, my ass. I do need some clothes though; Babylon is one dismal and cold place.

            Gravestones surrounded him like a crowd of silent onlookers as he made his way to nowhere. He couldn’t shake his anger, no matter how hard he clutched his hands in fists. But those words followed him with each step; Forces of darkness have already prepared for your arrival, and survival should become your first priority.  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said through shivering lips.

            And just as his confidence in himself was satisfied by his thoughts, he looked up to see a dark figure leaning against a gravestone. Dark hair and dark eyes were framed by pale skin, and the young man wore a torn black duster over his black shirt and pants. He wasn’t nearly as tall as the paladin, but standing atop that little rise surrounded by the reek of death he was an extremely imposing figure.

            Letting go of the stone, he stood and took a few steps in the paladin’s direction. “A little cold, eh?” the young man said. “Seems you’re almost naked, lost, and all alone here in this hell hole of a city. Need some help friend?”

            “Of course, you know where I could find some clothes?” the paladin replied.

            “Sure, and we can go grab something to eat. A meal isn’t all that hard to find in this town, but I just can’t shake my hunger you know?” the man said. “My name is Jabal.”

            Not knowing what else to say, the paladin replied, “I can’t really remember much but you can call me Paladin. I don’t know where I am or who…” I am, he thought, and then correcting himself, I was. “It’s all hazy, and I can’t seem to remember any of it. It’s like a fog I just can’t see all the way through. I just don’t know.”

            “Yea, I’ve been there before. You should really stay away from those chemical drugs they sell on the streets, those will really fuck you over,” Jabal said with a knowing smile. “This neighborhood is the worst. Occasionally they will send in a Legion or an A.R.E.S., but it’s obvious the Emperor and his men couldn’t care less about the Poor Quarter. Hell, if this building is still standing, that should be proof enough. The Emperor has already tried to rid himself of the past by destroying it brick by brick.” At this Jabal’s face clouded over and with what seemed like absolute loathing and he said, “But the past will live forever, because a few of us are unable to forget.”

            “The past?” Paladin said as if testing out the word for the first time. “Sure would be nice to be able to remember it,” Paladin said with a weak attempt to change Jabal’s mood. “So what does he want everyone to forget so much that he would destroy whatever is left of it?”

            Jabal’s hate was swept away in a second. “The idea of something different. Since the first Emperor over three hundred years ago, we have had our freedoms taken away just slowly enough that we didn’t even miss them. And now we are all sheep.” His hatred returned as he raised his hand and showed Paladin a mark, almost like a barcode tattooed to the webbing between his thumb and index finger. “Everyone is required to have this at birth, a number is all we are to them anymore. This way the Legion can locate us anywhere at anytime by punching in that little number. Hell, if they even cared they could stop all the criminals here in the Poor Quarter. But still I’ve seen people beat to death in the streets and all our money going straight to the upper city,” he said as he pointed overhead. Paladin looked up to see skyscrapers rise up into the clouds with walkways connecting them all, almost like branches of trees wrapping together to form a canopy. Small vehicles darted back and forth through the walkways, and he noticed the huge gap where the church still stood was one of the only spaces in the nest of roads.

            “Nice place to wake up in,” Paladin replied, struck by Jabal’s straight-forwardness about his ruler. “So, where is this food and clothes you promised me?”

            “Oh, sorry man. Follow me, I know exactly where we could grab a bite to eat,” Jabal said, and his hate was replaced with such an odd look that Paladin wondered what was worse.

Chapter 2

             After leaving the small patch of withered grass that surrounded the church, they entered a concrete jungle, but only at the forest floor. The lowest level of human life lived in this world of refuse, most with horrible diseases or mutations that distorted their bodies. He saw that drugs were more common than food, and that these people built their homes from whatever scraps they could find and crushed them together between the massive buildings. But what surprised him most was that there were absolutely no pests, no mutts, cats, or mice crawling around in the trash that surrounded him. Must make a good meal, he thought to himself.

            Jabal led him through without a single glance back at Paladin. Occasionally he would yell at someone he knew, but few answered him back. These people were scared and frightened by everything in their horrible lives. Paladin’s heart felt for them, but he also knew that unless he could remember who he was he might soon be one of them.

            Constant twists and turns through the crowded streets confused Paladin. Already he was totally lost and had no clue where the church was. What the hell is going on, he thought to himself. I don’t know where I am, I’m cold and half-naked, and I don’t even have a fucking clue who I am. Could this day get any worse?

            Then suddenly Jabal stopped dead in his tracks. Around him were hastily constructed shacks, built together and sharing walls. People crowded the shops, most of them beggars or drug dealers trying to trade for food. He turned to Paladin and said, “Here ya go man, the Market. About half a dozen shops selling everything from mutated fruit to dog meat. Not the same as a sirloin, but there is nothing better than fresh meat.” Paladin felt sick to his stomach as Jabal’s eyes once again got that odd look, almost like a junkie staring at a needle. “C’mon, follow close behind me.”

            Jabal made his way through the crowd with ease. Paladin’s eyes were just barely quick enough to notice that every time Jabal bumped another person in the crowd, his hand brushed against the person long enough to get in and out of their pocket. He also accidentally collided with a merchant’s table, letting his coat fall over some clothes. When he turned and apologized to the old crone, the clothes disappeared as his coat fell back into place.

            He kept his quick pace until they were alone in an alley about a block from the Market. “I just love shopping, don’t you?” Jabal said with an evil smile. “Here, take these.”

            Paladin took the clothes, a simple white t-shirt, a worn black duster, and a pair of faded jeans with enough stains to make them look like camouflage pants. He dressed quickly, grateful for the little warmth the clothes provided. “Did you grab anything to eat off all those people? I’m starting to feel sick, I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten.”

            I know exactly what that look is but I can’t remember, Paladin thought as Jabal’s eyes glazed over at the mention of food. Hell, all I know is that I sure don’t like that look.

            “Oh man, don’t worry about that sick feeling. That’s just the drugs wearing off, you must have taken one hell of a lot to lose your memory like that.” Jabal took a couple steps closer to Paladin, his dark eyes staring up at him so intensely that Paladin felt himself back up to get away. “Now about the food, sorry man, I didn’t grab anything. But I do know how long it’s been since I’ve eaten, and I know I won’t go much longer without a bite.”

            Suddenly Jabal’s arm shot out so swiftly all Paladin saw was a blur and a brilliant white light take over his vision. His world erupted as he was sent flying through the air straight into the brick wall of the alley, all the air in his lungs gone and his consciousness following close after. The force of the blow knocked bricks loose, which fell onto Paladin, sending him farther into the fog that he called his mind.

            Jabal strode forward with deadly purpose, a fiendish grin on his face to match the look in his eyes. “You know cats are interesting creatures,” Jabal said as he closed in on Paladin. “One of the deadliest creatures God created, designed for one sole purpose; to kill.”

            “Cats…what…” Paladin mumbled as he slowly pulled backward, trying to hide in the pile of bricks.

            “When a cat attacks a mouse, first it disables its prey so it cannot escape.” And with that he stomped down on Paladin’s shin with the force of a sledgehammer, cracking the bones and producing a horrible scream from Paladin.

“Then the cat will play with its prey for the pure amusement and pleasure power provides.” Jabal reached down and grabbed Paladin by the throat. He then picked up Paladin’s crippled body with one hand and flung him against the opposite wall, sending shattered bricks flying through the air, and Paladin almost into a coma.

            “And then, when the cat is completely bored with its prey, it finishes the job and enjoys the meal it has worked so hard for.” Jabal jammed his knee into Paladin’s chest and grabbed his throat in a vice grip that pinned Paladin to the ground. Jabal’s grin grew wild; a look of pure madness, and his teeth glinted in the pale light of the alley. Paladin finally began to make his way back to consciousness when he saw Jabal’s two long canine teeth, pointed at the tip and as sharp as daggers.

            “Beginning to remember Paladin?” Jabal said calmly while crushing the life out of the man underneath him. “I have seen your kind come and go. You are no more than the others I have sent back to The Gates. Gutless and weak, no paladin can stand against me, let alone now. You have no power anymore. He is dead, and I am still here! Do you hear me? I am still here!”

            Thoughts and images flashed behind Paladin’s eyes; fire, death, and souls consumed by flames, but not one person had a face. Get up, he thought to himself. Get up, you can’t lose this easily, the game hasn’t even begun! Not sure about anything anymore, Paladin began to fight back. His mind reeled against the images, the hallucinations, the overwhelming pain, and the vampire in flesh and blood that was slowly killing him.

            “I watched the Tower fall. I watched the Flood kill millions of people. I stood back and watched as His best creation raped the world he created for them. And to think He cast me out, and Cain before me? He is weak!”

            Paladin felt something surge inside of him, and the images vanished. The power sped along his veins, forcing its way to every fiber of his being. It flowed down into his leg, the fiery pain mending the torn flesh and broken bones. Every muscle clenched as he was burnt inside out by flames he couldn’t see.

            “And now you try to fight back, it’s almost noble of you. Never give up. What a waste of creation, a being so determined that it forgets what it is, but wont stop fighting. But I shouldn’t play with my food. It ends now.”

            Even though his eyes were closed he could see everything clearer than he had before. He watched Jabal’s last twisted grin before he closed in for Paladin’s neck. Almost as if the world slowed to a crawl, he saw the fire inside of him, yearning to break free of its cage. He saw the teeth get closer and closer, and his chances drift away. He only had one thing left, the one thing that is always there, his instinct.

            Right before Jabal’s teeth punctured his flesh, Paladin let himself be taken over by instinct and was swept away like a grain of sand against a tidal wave. The fire surged out of him, engulfing his flesh in white-blue explosion of flames that blackened the vampire’s pale skin. A guttural scream erupted from Jabal’s throat as he threw himself from Paladin, spinning in the air, and landing as lightly as a feather, or just maybe a cat, a dozen yards from Paladin’s burning body.

            “You remember one of your tricks I guess. Maybe it really was more than just drugs that left you feeling like that,” Jabal said with his evil grin as Paladin slowly got to his feet. “But I do know that you remember nothing of what you are, or what you will be.”

            Paladin was dazed and he barely knew he was standing instead of laying six feet underground. The fire still danced along his skin, the strange glow was warm, but not burning. Paladin slowly looked up at Jabal and his bright green irises faded into the whites of his eyes. The blue-white fire rushed from his pupils, sending flames drifting up over his brow to join the rest of the blaze that surrounded him. Paladin felt a calm finally rest on his soul; the cold, calculating precision was the first familiar thing he had felt all day.

            “I may not remember much, but I do know what you are. I thought vampires were just a story to scare little kids. And now I know there is a reason you only scare kids. ‘He’ may be weak, but definitely not as weak as you,” Paladin said with confidence, as a few things began to emerge out of the fog he called his memory.

            “Me weak? Ha, we’ll see how weak I am.” Jabal leapt into the air, the dark alley swallowing him like just another shadow. Paladin was left scanning the walls around him; however, Jabal was nowhere to be seen. Then from behind him Jabal lunged straight into Paladin’s back, taking him to the ground with enough force to plow through a brick wall. Another blinding white flash erupted in Paladin’s vision as his forehead connected with the concrete. Jabal planted his foot firmly on the back of Paladin’s skull, leapt into the air once more, and vanished.

            “That weak enough for you? But you are right, you are more than the others. The others were a disgrace to the weakest one of all,” Jabal said as Paladin once again pulled himself up onto weak knees. “But I doubt you are more than me,” he said, and then appeared as a blur that shot forward and took Paladin in the chest.

            He began to fall, but anticipating Jabal’s retreat, Paladin gripped his foot and threw him to the ground before he could disappear again. The fire took over once more, and he felt the calm completely overtake him. Paladin erupted into a burning meteor and dropkicked Jabal as he tried to get up, sending him right back down and shattering at least one rib.

            Paladin stood up and gripped Jabal’s throat firmly, burning imprints of his fingers into Jabal’s flesh. He lifted the vampire up off his feet with just his left hand, and for some reason wasn’t surprised at his strength. He punched Jabal in the face so hard that Jabal flew straight through the wall a half a dozen paces behind him. Paladin glanced behind him and saw just a couple bricks loose compared to the gaping hole left by Jabal.

            He strode up to the wall and heard a muffled groan from under the pile of bricks. Paladin reached into the bricks and pulled a crushed mass of flesh and bones out of the pile. Several of Jabal’s bones were broken and his flesh was cut, but none of the cuts bled, and he had no bruises whatsoever. Jabal’s dark eyes were slow to look up, but when they did there was a look of desperation and defeat in them.

“So maybe you are more than even I. But I can help you. I can tell you things you must know, if you can help me.”

            “For one thing, why the fuck am I supposed to trust you?” Paladin said, and a burst of the fire erupted from his eyes. “And why should I help you if you try to kill me not even an hour after I meet you?”

            “You cannot trust me. But you cannot trust anyone else either. You are at war, and you don’t know who your enemies are, let alone who you are. You just stepped into a battle that has lasted since the Creation, and no matter what you think, no side is stronger than the other.”

            “What do you mean?” Paladin said, never letting his fiery eyes leave Jabal’s obsidian pair.

            “The war between heaven and hell, the war between God and Satan, between true good and true evil, not just another war between the factions of men. And I am not just a vampire, not a fantasy of men. I am Jabal, descendant of Cain himself, the son of Adam. I watched when the lizards grew like titans, watched as the sky broke and the rain swept away the earth, watched when that fool sent His only son to die. I have lived, or rather existed, for almost 7,000 years.”

            Paladin immediately saw why Asmodeus tried to impress on him not to trust anyone. “So you are trying to tell me you saw dinosaurs only 7,000 years ago? This world is billions of years old, and dinosaurs aren’t even lizards. You are a fucking idiot if you are going to give me this story,” and again a burst of flame shot out of Paladin’s eyes.

            “I expected more from you,” Jabal said. He gave Paladin another odd look, but thought better than to try for dinner again. “I was alive when the world was new. Your ‘dinosaurs’ are only lizards, just like those of today. But as I said, I watched the sky break.”

            With a totally lost look on his face, Paladin said, “Since when does air break? What the hell is your problem Jabal?”

            “Okay, I obviously have to explain this slowly and from the beginning. There is no doubt in my mind that God created this planet, and he did almost 7,000 years ago. This world is young. In the beginning there were no buildings, no men anywhere, no ‘civilization’. Then God created Adam, the first man.”

            “Yea, I know that, this isn’t Sunday school. What about the sky breaking?” Paladin asked.

            “Before the Flood, the planet had a firmament, a layer of water suspended in the atmosphere. The water kept oxygen closer to the earth’s surface, and increased the amount of oxygen in the air. More oxygen will make animals grow larger and healthier, and make them live much longer, and lizards never stop growing through their entire life. Are you following me?” Jabal said with a look of disdain.

            “Well sort of. But science proved that this earth is billions of years old, there are bones in the earth that they can tell are millions of years old.”

            “Well I see you are a true Paladin, your former self remembers a lot of what it was taught. The human scientists tell the age of a fossil by how far down in the ground it is. But they tell which years a rock layer represents by what fossils are found in it. You see, humans are so desperate for a meaning to everything that they fall victim to circular reasoning, and in close to a millennium have not even noticed. That is how Satan first took hold of man’s beliefs, by giving him an option other than creation.”

            “Well what about you? Don’t you follow the devil? Isn’t that what vampires do?” Paladin asked.

            “Ha, follow him? Vampires are not evil, we are just like men, evil by our actions. We choose for ourselves which path to follow. Even though if we do not drink the fresh blood of a human once a night, we suffer tremendous pain, several of my brothers and sisters abstain from drinking altogether. We are cursed in that we will never die, but we can still be hurt, and the only way to heal ourselves is to drink. Personally, I drink every night.”

            “So do I have to watch you? Are you going to try and bite me again?” Paladin growled as another burst shot out of his eyes.

            “Oh no, I can’t drink your blood. I only drink the blood of my brothers, and you are something different.” Jabal gave Paladin that odd look. “Now, if you help me, I will tell you about your part in all this.”

            “What do you want me to do?” Paladin asked.

 Chapters 3 & 4