The common misconception about me is that I am a vampire. I've heard it from many of opponents. I can hear it in their tone of voice when they speak. They think that I am some sort of blood sucking savage who sparkles in the sunlight. But little do they know the error of their thinking. I am far more dangerous. You might call me an ancient; a demon even. Now before you all naysay my claims, and say "but you were a man. You don't just become a demon". Wrong. Lucifer was God's most beautiful angel and he was transformed into a demon. I murdered my own flesh and blood, and I was marked. Over these two thousand years of being a feared hunter, I have transformed. I have become a demon prince.

I do not suck blood. I devour hearts. I do not burst into flames in the sunlight. I don't like it, but it cannot kill me. Now, with that meta-biological lesson out of the way, my current actions are that of a man. From the dawn of time, the cavemen had always sought a social circle. It always seemed that men would want to associate with others who could make them more powerful and the two men I would team with? Golden. Peter Gilmour was once like myself. Pure evil. But somewhere down the line, that changed. Now he looked like a Hollywood pretty boy. Mind you, I aimed to change that. I would lead him back to the darkside. Back home, as it were. Morbid Angel? He was already there. He was the perfect Satanic Hellbeast, and honestly, I could feel a man crush developing. No homo.

So where to find my partners? Where would they hang out?

Questions. Always with the questions. It took me a bit to get my sanity glued together with the visions of gold in my head. But I need Gilmour and Morby to cement that. Then WE need those Trios Titles. And so...

My quest began.

It was a warm, sunny day as I walked the streets of Morbidonia. Yes, Morbidonia. You see, I figured there would be the best place to find "him". Normally, I don't go looking for trouble. And I knew that he was trouble, but in this case, he was an ally. During our match I had developed a healthy respect for the Satatanic Hellbeast. I heard Miako's heels walking besideme, both of us looking at the empty streets.

"Cain....are you sure he's here?"[/color]

As usual, I am always right. I poke my chest out and hold my chin up high.

"Of course, Miako. This is Morbidonia, he owns the place! Why the fuck wouldn't he be here?"

"Ummm...because he's the Universal Champion and probably doesn't spend all day at home? I dunno. Just doesn't seem right. Plus, this place kind of creeps me out! Sure are alot of graveyards!"

Hrmf. The girl was right. I really didn't see any houses. I mean, there were the foundations of dilapidated houses, but where the actual house was supposed to be there were gravestones. Lots of gravestones. With names of people that I obviously had never heard of. But I digress. I sighed and shook my head.

"It's sad, in a way."

Miako looked at me inquisitively.

"How so?"

"All these gravestones..." i hung my head. "...and none of them are anyone that I killed. That's a bummer."

"How is that? That's weird to think like that, ya know."

"I kill. That's my thing, Miako. Duh."

Of course, she loved me for that. Amongst other thing. As I surveyed the landscape of abandoned shops and houses, this place was perfect. Solitude. I could easily understand why a huge star like Morbid would call this place home. Noannoying fans bothering him. Miako and I walked another full block before we saw neon lights. The sign was faded, due to the fact that neon wasn't easy to see in daylight. Duh. I read the sign, squinting.

"The Devil's Tail."

"Dude, what kind of name is that for a business? Sounds like a strip club to me!"

As she and I argued over the virtue of said establishment, we didn't even notice the thunderous roar of a band of motorcycles which had appeared on the horizon. But when I did notice, what I saw was a pack of no less than eleven bikers. Not those casual riders either. These were big, bad mother fuckers in Hell's Angels' regalia, bearded. Pierced. Carrying shot guns. Miako folded her arms over her chest and looked at the men as they parked their bikes. I looked at them for a second, then smirked at her.

"Those look like his kind of people, wouldn't you say?"

She slowly nodded and stepped behind me.

"Uh...yeah Cainie...please don't let them rape me..."

The lead biker noticed me and it was understandable as I must have stood out like a sore thumb in my ten thousand dollar Armani. As the giant man, almost as big as Morbid approached me, I stood my ground. I feared nothing. Whatsoever.

"What in the blue fuck are you starin' at, city boy?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"A bear? With...a sawed off shotgun?"

He eyed me closely, and then smirked.

"You've got balls, dontcha kid? Coming in here, tryna talk shit. Whatsay I take this shotgun and blow yer fuckin' brains all over the wall?"

I looked back at the red brick wall behind me, then back at the large biker. Up at the large biker.

"Do it. Won't do you any good."

Keep in mind, that this whole time,I have a sawed off double barrelled shotgun pointed straight between my eyes. Am I pissing my pants? No. I wait. And wait. The trigger never gets pulled. My lips twist upwards, raven black brows furrowing downward.

"Morbid woulda done it. Because Morbid Angel has balls."

Every single Angel there looked at me, their eyes widening slightly. The big bear shook his head, slowly lowering the shotgun.

"So...you must be fuckin' Cain Arkham, huh?"

"Indeed, you have heard of me."

It was then that the big grizzly laughed and slapped me on the back. You see, around here, respect is earned from reputation. By that, I mean these guys had heard of how tough I was. I reached out and shook the big man's large hand. The two of us shared an especially hearty laugh as we discussed...

"Ya done the angels fuckin' proud ass rapin' that fuckin' mick Wednesday!"

"Fucker had it coming, honestly. What may I call you, sir?"

As calm and as cool as usual. Atrue professional. He introduced himself.

"Muh name's Randy. Don't call me Randall, or I'll kill ya!"

Hah. As if he could. We both had a good laugh at that. I felt Miako's tiny hand tugging at my jacket and I looked back at her through the corner of my eye.

"Ummm...Cain..."

Randall and I continued our coversatiom as Miako continued to tug.

"Caaaaaaaaainnnn..."

Irritated, I spoke to her through the corner of my mouth.

"Miako...I'm talking to Morbid's guy..what is it?"

"Exactly.." She whispered. "...you've been talking about the best brand of cigarette for fifteen minutes now. You need to ask him where Morbid is!"

Well, fuck. She's right. You see, Randy and I had wasted all of that time talking about more than one thing. Believe it or not, we didn't just talk about Marlboro cigarettes. Oh no. We actually talked about Pantera. We discussed the government and how they suck ass. We discussed how cheap and pure methamphetamines used to be. But Miako was right. Morbid and Peter Gilmour, plus Cain. We all needed to get on the same page. And these men, these bikers, I knew would make it easier to find my target. Finally, I stopped babbling, and asked the question.

"So, I'm sure you are familiar with Morbid Angel?"

Randy smirked.

"Of fuckin' course, Arkham! Why else would we be here? The boss needs a fuckin' security force!"

"Now Randy, I doubt that."

"Why so? Da boss can't be stayin' here in Morbidonia all the time. He gotta go do some fuckin' business outside, an' someone's gotta protect his property."

"So, is he here now?"

I frowned as Randall shook his head. I looked at him inquisitively. He sensed this and answered the obvious questions.

"He ain't here, Arkham. He said he had some business ta take care of...somethin' bout a Peter Fuckin' Gilmour."

So. After this conversation with Randy, I gathered that Morbid had already left. He basically had the same idea as me. After gathering a bit more information, I was shown to a nearby garage. I side this garage was a really PRETTY Sixty Seven Chevy Impala. Candy Apple red, with chrome everywhere. It'd belonged to a bunch of smart ass college students, and I was "gifted" with it. Long story short, Miako and I sped off to the next destination. Would we find Morbid? How about Gilmour? It's up to fate, I suppose.

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