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In a room sits a child. He sits in a tomb of perpetual darkness, forever waiting for the day he shall be free to wander the earth with the dead. He sees not. He speaks not. He only hears the sound of his breath against the cold air. His only company is that of his own beating heart. Forever he sits, and forever he waits for the day he shall be free from this flesh, this body.

In the year eleven twenty-three, in the heart of the holy land, a single knight sets a sequence of events in motion that forever altered the fate of both the mortal and immortal worlds. In a small village outside the holy city of Jerusalem a small band of knights were sent to execute the Muslim residents. They set fire to the village and chased down and executed the survivors. In searching the rubble they found a single Muslim family still alive. Saved by an underground bunker underneath a burned house. As they were raised from their bunker two small children climbed up with their mother. They were forced to their knees on the burning rubble of their town. As the knights prepared to execute the family the mother of the children looked up into the eyes of one of the knights. As she stared into his eyes she uttered two English words.

“Satins curse”

As his blade descended upon her head she extended her arm showing a ring shaped like a snake. As he cut into her flesh a single drop of blood found its way down the blade of his sword and onto his hand. It seeped through his chain mail and his gloves underneath. As her blood touched his skin he felt a sudden burst of pain as if he had been stabbed in the chest. He collapsed beside the family of Muslims.
A flash of blue light streaked across the knight’s eyes as he hit the ground. When he opened his eyes he was no longer in Jerusalem. He was in a hellish world filled with lava. As he stood up he saw that he was on an island of rock surrounded by sea of magma. In front of him was a giant burning cross floating in the air above the magma. He felt more fearful than he had ever felt in his life. He wanted to scream out but he found his voice to be gone. As he sat at the foot of the floating cross he suddenly felt a burst of cold shoot through his body. As he stood there shivering despite the burning all around him he saw a figure rise from beneath the magma. As it rose to the surface he saw the shiny black teeth as sharp a razor. Spines protruding from the back of the creature broke the surface. As he stared into the red eyes of the demon he saw the figure of a women crying. He felt as if he had seen this hideous creature before. Perhaps in a nightmare, a child hood fear come to life. Suddenly and unexpectedly the serpent began to speak.
“Hello, I have been watching you” the serpent said with an ominous hiss.

“Who who are you” the knight said with fear, suddenly regaining his speech.

“I am the messenger of the dead,” the serpent answered.

“A a am I… dead?”

“Yess you are, at least for now”.... to be continued