Zeuberg

"My legal name where I currently reside in the city of Liege, Belgium, is Gaspar Valessi. But that is not my real name. The name I was given some 30,000 years ago, when I was born in a Paleolithic settlement in the region that is now called Germany - the name my father gave me shortly after I was voided, bloody and howling, from my mother's womb - is Gon."

So begins the saga of the immortal Gon, a 30,000 year-old vampire. He recounts his mortal life in prehistoric Germany alongside his male companion, Brulde, and his two wives, the Neanderthal Eyya and his Cro-Magnon mate, Nyala. It details the fearsome events that lead to his transformation from man to undying monster.

Chronicles Of An Ancient Vampire

How many mortal men have been suckered by that bait? It is a big, juicy worm dangling in the murky waters of our mortal existence. Who can resist it? Not the miserable. More than anything else, the miserable desire an escape from their suffering. Not the pious, either, for faith is but a promise where our permanence is a demonstrable fact. What of the happy, the joyous, those lucky, prosperous few? As for those men, I can assure you, even the happiest men fear death. Sometimes the happiest men fear death most of all!

I often wonder if I could have resisted such an offer myself. I like to think I could have, if my life had been different, if I had been given the choice, but that presupposes some understanding of immortality's true cost, and that only comes with time and experience.

Perhaps, out of love for my mortal family, I might have declined Bhorg's offer, but I can never be quite certain of that. Even I, happy as I was, feared death when I was a living man. The truth of the matter is, I probably would have convinced myself that I could protect my loved ones better, look after them more capably, if I had an immortal's strength.

Hammon and his small band of hunters were not happy men. In fact, they were worse than unhappy. They were starved, lonely, miserable, and Bhorg's offer, war or no war, must have seemed like a prayer answered.

Hammon had not survived so long by acting without thought. He conferred with his companions again, then returned to Bhorg. Grinning up at the giant, one eye squinted, he said, "We would hear more of your offer before we give you our decision."

"What more would you have me tell you?" Bhorg demanded. He sighed, "A small band of my fellow blood gods are encamped on the other side of those mountains. Perhaps you would like to meet them. They can tell you more of this war we wage on Khronos."

"How far away is this camp? How many days journey from here?"

Bhorg shrugged. "For me, less than half a night. For you, several days."

"And how do we know you are truly a god? Big teeth do not a god make."

Bhorg moved to the rear of the group faster than their mortal eyes could follow. To them, it was as if he had melted into thin air. They cried out, shouting the names of whatever deities they revered. Before they turned around and realized he had merely moved very quickly, he returned to his original position, taking up the same pose that he had momentarily vacated.

"What more evidence would you have?" Bhorg asked.

Chapter 261 - Blood Gods in Exile part 6