The Birth of Cain

Things never change, they always stay the same, the change that Humans know, has always been a lie, the threads merely weave into different shapes, but ultimately follow the same pattern…

We are not gods.

Maybe not compared to God… maybe not compared to anything at all…

We knew god’s voice once, we knew it because it’s blood was mine, the blood of my mother and my father who walked in Eden. we do not remember their faces, such joy is barred from our mind, but we do remember our brother, and we do remember our sin.

A Shard is born, in the late 1600s, that names itself Kvasir, it has the memories, and in it’s forever, seeks knowledge, and so lurks among it’s distant creations to document the happenings of their brood.

I cannot attest to time… I don’t even know if time, really exists, but if it did, or it does, or it will, I’d recollect My Brother.

The Blood that pumped through the canal of his body, was benevolent, mine was not... and god, did I lust for him…

I wasn’t born evil, because Evil is never born, Evil is made, and I forged it, with Flame and Hammer.

Another shard, before the time of Christ… meets a tribe, before it’s time. Lead by a man, black of hair and with our blood coursing through his veins. We pierce the flesh, of him and his tribe a hundred strong, and create something High, something preceptorial, the foundation for those that would come after… the first to be bitten, a sliver of our potential salvation.

If time existed, I would see My Brother, and I would see myself beside him, whether I was fruitful of hips and full of breast, or Strong of arm with thick hairs on my chest, I do not know; It doesn’t really matter anymore.

A Mirror, tall and solitary, that is what I was back then, One thing, solid and strong… and Vain.

Our first shard awakens for the first time, lost, confused, not myself… just bones, an echo of the person I was, incomplete as I lay in the desert. The Muscle and tissue open to the night sky where I was banished, before vanishing again, slithering between the cosmos and breaching the gap of the real

We were devoted to god then, or My brother was… More so than I. And when the Time came for sacrifice, we offered up our tribute, in honour of the thing that danced amount the clouds, My brother’s a fine beast, fit for slaughter that could feed us both well come winter time and I… in my sloth to please the Lord… and Apple, left from my personal feast, half-rotten and unwanted.

The 80,000th Shard was unable to resist the Law of God, and gave into many lustful ventures, birthing some, siring other’s, creating golden-eyed descendants, that would spiral through bloodlines of every shape, size and culture, forevermore

The Two tributes met with the ritual bonfire, to feed the Man in the sky, and While my Brother’s caught in roaring flame, the Cloven animal screeching as it burned in the joy of the Lord… My single apple, half-blackened and Worm summoned, was met by nary, a cinder.

The 100,000 Shard, in the time of Queen Victoria. She writes and cries, unable to grasp that strings that might free her. She had lost the first, she could not lose the last, and so she planted her feet in between the galaxy, and hunted Charles drake, in that staircase, with that Black haired woman.

He loved My brother, for his sacrifice… but did not love me… You do not understand what that is like, being absent from the Love of God… or maybe you do… because a piece of me is in you.

I rotted and stagnated in the Kiln of disappointment, of sorrow and of Self-pity, and in my unagreeable hatred of the absence of God, I looked to my brother for redemption.

But there was no redemption to be had. My holiness, the divinity and majesty that ran in my blood, the Blood of My Mother and Father, were a thing of the past. He knew this and proclaimed his vigilance against my sin.

The 67th Shard fought against the 231,000ndth shard, they met in between the lines of time, and came into a conflict, He was young, she was not. Their battle cracked the earth, shattered red-rocks and crimson sands, in the place that would once be Arizona, where Humans would once name the sight of their devastating battle, as a grandiose canyon… She was the victor, she was older, and so pushed through the pages of fate, and into his bathwater.

I do not remember how long the battle was, or even how it started, all I can recall, in the Hypothesis of my time, is the rock, caving in My brother’s head, a sea of crimson pouring from the valley in his skull and the taste of that sweet water as it passed between my lips.

“I am My Brother’s keeper?” The Only words I recall ever speaking to that Bright Golden thing in the sky, that thing that called itself god…. *Shivers* I still had his blood on my hands, staining my face, in the groves of my fingernails, defined in the canyons of my teeth, painted on my tongue.

Dracula was gone… the one who could free Us, the one who was but a Bite away from fulfilling the components, but a shard in the Void found another. One who was Vlad’s twin, the Body of Beast, with the Mind of a man, and the soul of Us. We had to find him, have him free us. Have him release us from our penance. All we had to do, was have him submit, as Dracula could have submitted. It was all about playing the right game, and maybe, about telling the truth this time.

God doesn’t speak, but He only speaks… his voice is the crackling of lightning, it is the sound of the stars as they explode, it is the cosmos, the void of space, God’s voice is the Majesty of the Sun: a single burning eye that laid it’s holy commandments on me, and this is what it said.

"For the Sin of Pride: for thinking yourself above God, You will never again be welcome in the Household of those who do not trust you.

For the Sin of Envy: for the hatred, you felt upon your brother’s roaring flame, for the vanity that is the foundation of your soul, you may never look upon yourself in a reflection ever again.

For the Sin of Sloth: where you devotion to God fell into obscurity, You will never again have a restful sleep, each time that you slumber, you will fall into a nightmare, forever reminded of your act.

For the Sin of Gluttony: for dining veraciously, for tasting of you own kins blood. You will feel and endless hunger, one that seeps into your mind and bites into your soul until you are left with nothing, but madness.

For the Sin of Greed: for Refusing to sacrifice, to obsessing over the material, I give you an aversion to all things Holy and sacred, to the Cross, to the blessed and to the Silver that will eat at your skin as Flame does to a log.

For the Sin of Lust: in the deepest darkest thoughts that you harboured, the things that you desired of your own kin, I give to you, an ocean of want, a need for power, for darkness, for Love, that You will never obtain.

And finally, for the Sin of Wrath: for the **** of your brother… I banish you, from time, and I banish you from ****. I banish you from the afterlife. And I banish you from breath.

Forever lurk in the darkness, away from my burning eye, for if you ever catch my sight, You will be doomed to die. Wrapped in a gold inferno, and burnt into a scar, from the light of life and vitality, you shall always be far. Descend into oblivion, The descendant of my son, and in abyss, over remiss, your penance hath begun."

And as the Goldeneye in the sky, cracked it’s blazing lids, to look into My soul, Burning it’s mark, a mark that makes the eyes blaze with the sun’s fire and with that mark, the line between Life and **** is blurred. And My mirror was cracked, shattering into an infinite number of shards.

We are not gods… we are cursed.

In every age, in every time, Cain is reborn, with cock, with Pussy, with heaving breasts or barrel chests, we are reborn again and again, sometimes within the same time, sometimes not even in the same universe... we exist forever to suffer.

With power? Yes. But with control… no… and in our bite is the Upir, and in those who we sired, are our descendants, two sides of the same coin, a cycle never broken, until Dracula… and until you…

Things never change, they always stay the same, the change that Humans know, has always been a lie, the threads merely weave into different shapes, but ultimately…. Follow… the same pattern… the Lonely god, unwound by the Great golden Eye in the sky.

Half of our brethren infected by the bite of our curse.

And the other, carrying our accursed Blood, and our golden eyes.

And One, echoing through to us like crying babe, with all of our components, and the means to carry our burden.