THE COURT OF ARCHON TIBERIUS
Archon Tiberius towers over the Vampyre triumvirate that is requesting his audience, glaring at them. He regards them as pathetic, mentally stunted worker-bees. A servile class. Tedious and execrable in every way. He is not pleased. He instinctively grimaces his distended upper and lower fangs at them. His repellant dentition emerges from behind a facemask mask of wrinkled, sallow flesh cratered by running sores glistening in the feeble light of black candles.
The Archon is annoyed by the very sight of them, observing their stinking lips straining to find words that convey puny justifications for violating his seclusion. His face says it all: Why do they provoke my ire? He sits down in his gigantic ceremonial Onyx throne and scowls. His eyes glow red and his long beard cascades over a combined breastplate and cassock fashioned from prehistoric reptile scales. An obscenely tall, black “Fish hat” or Mitre fashioned from human flesh skinned from newborns is his crown, Mounted in the center of it is a huge, priceless ruby expertly cut into the shape of an “All Seeing Eye”.
These caverns are inside the very bowels of the Earth – cold, damp and vast. Voices echo against rough granite walls that extend for miles in any given direction. The entrance to this place is so unspoken that even Vampyres can’t find it. A select few of the fiends are aware of its existence – but fewer still have actually made the journey to its depths. Vampyres avoid their Archons – they rarely seek them out.
Tiberius always visits consequences on supplicants seeking his attention. They leave his presence – if they leave his presence – chastened. He dramatically contorts his long boney, claw-like hands at whomever he’s addressing, pointing and threatening them with extended, razor-sharp talons. He emphasizes and punctuates his ever- distempered words with these aggressive gestures. Every movement is a display of his power.
Personal appearances before Tiberius always carries with risk of death. His Court is an edifice devoted to subjugation and killing. He is the grand vizir and ultimate arbiter of the fate of all who enter this subterranean realm. The First Ring of Hell belongs to Tiberius.
ARCHON TIBERIUS:
“WHY ARE YOU HERE? ISN’T THERE SUFFICIENT HUMAN CATTLE TO FEED ON IN YOUR REALM? WHY DO YOU VEX ME WITH YOUR WRETCHED FACES?”
VAMPYRE SPOKESMAN:
“We approach with Trepidation and Reluctance, O’ Great One. A development requires your attention.
Harvesting Adrenochrome is becoming exceedingly problematic in our place – human science positions their electronic eyes everywhere. Taking their female young in sufficient numbers is difficult. Precipitating excretion of Adrenochrome from them is time-consuming and fraught with danger. Our business is based on torture – and we are a target.
Our Human pipeline of familiars has been interrupted of late, causing a drop-off of production. Our Satanist allies have gotten old and unreliable. The precious “Juice” is much in demand – but our supplies dwindle.
A cohort of our Pine Barrens Coven has contracted a human disease that we cannot defend against. As human blood degrades, many viral afflictions are finding their way into our brethren as we feed on their blood. The Pine Barrens disease of which we speak causes rapid insanity and death in Vampyres. We have lost twelve of our Coven to it. Three more are suffering symptoms of this virus. Humans have no cure. It is called KURU.
In the meantime, butchered Vampyres are turning up deep inside the Pine Barrens wilderness area. On one such massacre site of Vampyres what I hand you now was found…”
ARCHON TIBERIUS: (Taking the object from his visitor)
“A LEATHER PATCH WITH A CHILDISH SCRIBBLING OF A STAG ON IT? AND WHAT IS THIS – HYNE…A NAME?
HYNE? WHO IS HYNE?”
VAMPYRE SPOKESPERSON:
“We believe this HYNE is a Vampyre Hunter. We have heard from our sources that SIMON MAGUS is dead. This Hyne may be his successor…and he’s baiting us. Challenging us to reveal our Coven and engage him”.
ARCHON TIBERIUS:
“BRING ME THE HEAD OF THIS HYNE! I WANT TO DRINK BLOOD FROM HIS SKULL AND FEAST ON HIS BRAINS!
AND HEAR ME NOW, YOU DOGS! KEEP ADRENOCHROME HARVESTING AT FULL CAPACITY. I ACCEPT NO EXCUSES!
YOU HAVE TWO WEEKS – OR I WILL BESEECH ABADDON – THE ANGEL OF THE ABYSS – TO DISPATCH HIS CURSED CREW OF DEMONIC LOCUSTS IN THE BODIES OF MEN TO VIVISECT THIS HYNE WHILE HE’S STILL ALIVE – AND THEN KILL YOU ALL AS PUNISHMENT FOR FAILING ME.
NOW GET OUT!!!”
CAPTAIN HYNE MEETS THE BOYS IN CYPRUS
Hyne meditates cross-legged on the warm beach sand. His biophysical and genetic transformation has made him crave warm climates. Returning to North America – even for short stretches – requires him to don special tactical mesh fabrics that enhance body heat retention and monitor his warmth.
Lee and their son, Arkan, are romping in the shallow blue Mediterranean water, laughing and pointing at things. They’re speaking through telepathy – their biological link has hardwired them together. Hyne can hear them in his head. He’s still getting used to it – kinda’ like not having to always depress the brake pedal to stop a Tesla car – it’s a counterintuitive exercise for the uninitiated.
By now his calling card must be reverberating throughout the Pine Barrens Vampyre Coven. He’ll return there shortly – once his helpers arrive for duty.
Lee has laid the law down. They’re parents now. Arkan is their future. Hyne must never hunt alone. A unique, highly trained and specially qualified cadre of fighters will accompany him on missions of all kinds, even on casual travel.
When The Old Ones orchestrated and supervised Hyne’s biological transformation, they also assigned to him three “soldiers”. They knew his Mission – the same Mission that Simon Magus devoted himself to – would be a perilous one. The Old Ones revealed to Lee three men that will be Hyne’s soldiers. The three are Human-Reptile hybrids. They have the same enhanced physical strength, boosted intelligence and commitment to their mystical task on Earth.
Their mission?
It is all about Evolution. The Old Ones guide mankind’s evolutionary journey to a higher plane. A righteous plateau on which juvenile human obsessions like warfare and financial empire-building ceases to define existence. Where justice, ethical conduct and abundance are the driving force of men’s innate Godliness. And where toxic, Abrahamic religions that warp and pervert peoples’ minds can finally be consigned to the dust bin of history. And the most toxic of all? The psychotic Old Testament deity, Yahweh.
The Old Ones assist Hyne because mankind’s challenge is existential.
The time has come for humanity must be purged of parasites. Nothing must be allowed to bleed off Humanity’s awesome potentialities for greatness. Vampyres, Priests and Rabbis are vultures dragging the human spirit down, sapping its vitality and poisoning man’s immortal essence. Abrahamic Religions exist only to control mankind. Human beings must be Liberated – unchained from the corrosive hypocrisy of Abrahamic faiths designed to strangle their minds and bodies.
Earth must be cleansed of these Leeches.
Today his soldiers arrive – one by one. Each at an appointed half-hour. The first should arrive at any minute.
DIRK FREMD
Hyne sees Dirk Fremd strolling up the beach from a fair distance away. He’s hooded in a white Egyptian cotton cassock, hooded against the brutal Mediterranean sunlight. He’s of rather unremarkable build and average height. Light-skinned. He walks confidently, effortlessly through the shifting sand under his feet.
By the time Hyne is within hand-shaking distance he can already intuit much about the young man.
He’s of average height and struts a military gait – unafraid, unapologetic. His face is angular – distinctly Northern European. Probably of Viking stock. Although his body is covered by the long, hooded white cassock he wears, Hyne can see the outline of a sinewy, lithe body. He’s well-acquainted with physical workouts and the martial arts. He moves like a jungle cat. And he’s not shy. He offers his hand at the first opportunity.
“Hyne? I’m Dirk Fremd. I’m told you have work for me.”
Hyne shakes his hand, His grip is firm – resolute. He inspires confidence.
He’s young. He’s strong. He’s trained. His face is honest. Hyne digs a little deeper.
“Tell me a few things about yourself, Mr. Fremd.”
“I’m from Amsterdam, Netherlands. I’m former NATO Special Forces. I have a broad-based weapons background – with particular focus on edged weapons, specifically hand-to-hand combat with the US Special Forces Bowie. I did two tours in Afghanistan. I speak Pashto and Urdu – as well as French, German and English. I am unmarried. I have no children.”
Hyne nods approvingly.
“One final question, Mr. Fremd. Are you a Killer?”
Fremd responds without flinching. His face is convincing.
“Yes.”
Hyne has ends their session on a light-hearted note.
“You may address me as Captain. Down the beach a stretch is my wife, Lee. Go and say hello. I’m sure she’ll have a few questions for you. But remember – she’s taken”.
XEN CHEN
Hyne’s next Lieutenant slips and slides up the beach like he’s annoyed. He’s actually talking to himself – probably cursing his progress. He’s short – but stocky. He wears a windbreaker and New York Yankees medallion baseball cap, thoroughly worn out around its edges. He pounds his way through the sand up to Hyne and announces himself.
“Hi. I’m Xen Chen. You the Boss?“
Hyne extends his hand and the young man responds in kind.
“Yes. I’m the Boss. Pleased to meet you. Tell me something about yourself.”
Xen Chen looks into Hyne’s face and studies it. He now knows that Hyne’s handshake is strong – authoritative. He measures his words carefully. Xen Chen is a cautious man.
“I’m from New York. I have a Master’s Sash in Kung Fu and assorted martial arts. I have a Master’s degree from Columbia University in Asian Philosophy and studied at the Shaolin Temple on Mount Song in China. My weapon of choice is the Chinese incarnation of the Katana – the Wodao”. I have no wife or children. I am at your service.”
Hyne concludes his interview with his primary question.
“Mr. Chen – are you a Killer?“
Chen stands erect and answers him. His facial expression is grave.
“Yes.”
Hyne smiles and gestures his hand towards his wife Lee, who has just finished meeting Dirk Fremd.
“You may address me as Captain. Introduce yourself to my wife, Xen Chen.”
Hyne ponders the young man as he plods further down the beach towards Lee.
“Not the warmest personality – but Mr. Chen is nobody’s fool….”
PER L’ENFANT
Hyne can’t help thinking that The Old Ones saved the best for last – and that they have a sense of humor after all.
Here comes Per L’Enfant. Barefoot, holding gleaming dress shoes in his right hand, an open tuxedo jacket and open tuxedo shirt, bowtie – untied – hanging from his collar. And a cummerbund still around his waist. He’s rail thin with jet black hair combed straight back from his forehead and dangling from his lips is a burning cigarette. As he extends his hand to Hyne an authentic Cartier Tank watch pokes out from – obviously – bespoke shirt cuffs.
Hyne recognizes the scent of the cigarette – it’s a French Gaulois. The very symbol of Gallic identity. Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus smoked Gaulois cigarettes. How does Hyne know this? He flirted with becoming a French Philosophy major when he was at Fordham.
“Monsieur Hyne? I am Per L’Enfant. I hear you have work for me.”
Hyne shakes his hand – and immediately feels the softness of his skin. This man is a techie. His face is cerebral – and rakish. He’s irreverent. A raconteur. Unconcerned with making a good impression. His whole manner bespeaks a man-of-the-world vibe. Hyne probes a bit further.
“Tell me something about yourself, Monsieur L’Enfant.”
“I am recently retired from the Surete’ du Quebec in Montreal where I was an Inspecteur in their Digital Criminal Investigations Unit. I have Master’s Degree in Indo-European languages from McGill University. I am a three-times winner of the North American Kick-Boxing Challenge and – under my nom de guerre “Henri 527″ am an internationally known Computer Hacker. For five years I studied the Katana sword in Tokyo, Japan under Sensei Ishu JunDo where my name is carved into his Dojo Wall list of “Senshi” or warriors worthy to be addressed as modern Samurai. There are only three names carved into that wall: Ishu JunDo, his brother and myself. I am not married. I have no children – at least none that I’m aware of.”
Hyne nods his head in the affirmative and asks his most pressing question.
“Monsieur L’Enfant, are you a Killer?”
L’Enfant smiles and shakes his head in the affirmative. In typical Gallic fashion, he seems to enjoy this whole process a bit too much. He flashes his wonderfully gleaming white teeth.
“Why, Yes, Mr. Hyne. I am a Killer. I thought that was established before I came here.”
“You’ll do. You may address me as Captain. Down the beach is my wife, Lee. Introduce yourself – but don’t get too familiar. At the slightest provocation, she’ll kill you. It’s one of the many things I love about her. Her unpredictability.”
Hyne watches Per L’Enfant amble towards Lee, blissfully unconcerned about much of anything. He lights another Gaulois cigarette as he goes. Hyne’s assortment of Lieutenants is an eclectic mix of diverse personalities – but all accomplished in their own way. They’ll be serious adversaries to any wayward Vampyre bloodsuckers that tangle with them, especially with their unique hybrid biogenetic makeup. They’ll have a potent edge in any fight.
Hyne is pleased with his new recruits – and actually mouths the first words that pop into his mind at the moment.
“Winner-winner-chicken-dinner.”
In his head he can already hear Lee chuckling at his jocular comment – the Telepathy thing is really quite amazing. He glances in her direction – and can see her smiling at him, flashing him a “thumbs up”.
*NO PART OF THIS WORK PRODUCT IS AI*
Copyright, 2026 – Jon & Jedediah Croft
www.bogironfoundry.com
Email: vlchek1@gmail.com
