kings of oblivion Once one of the eldest of three siblings born to wealthy Polish nobles, Jacob Thomas Kiszka was considered more than just another wealthy young man with a reputable family in good social standing.

He was, for lack of a better term, his parents' pride and joy. The boy was intelligent, cunning, and observant from an early age, setting him on the right path for politics from the beginning. However, he also quickly learned the ways of the sword and shield, hand to hand combat, with the silver tongue resting in his mouth becoming sharper than the blade on his hip by the day. A warrior, a politician, a gentleman

to be wed to a charming young woman named Amelia, the daughter of another wealthy family. The two would've made a rather respectable family, with his successes on the battlefield and the way he might persuade anyone to bend to his will with a few simple, soft words sending his popularity with the councils sky high.

Jacob was excited, to say the least. To shine honor upon his family name, to protect his homeland, to take a bride, to start a family. His birthright was excellence in the form of a long, happy life with his beloved, future sons, and their wealth. 

into the night However, fate had other plans for him; coming in the form of black hellhounds on the night before his wedding. The beasts had not come for him, although he would've been an easy target, with his back turned to the open stable doors as he secured his steed within one of the stalls. He'd heard the growling, the roars, from where he stood, and his younger brother, Samuel's shrieks soon to follow.

Jacob wasted no time in bolting out into the yard, but he was too late. His brother lay bloody on the ground, surrounded by a sea of gore, some belonging to him, and others to the rest of their family. His parents had been torn to pieces and strewn about like shreds of wasted fabric, their livestock all slaughtered, their home heavily battered from the attack. Jacob could see the wolf retreating in the forest. One lycan, in the blink of an eye, had decimated Jacob's entire life, robbing him of his entire family, and ensuring that he would never be the same again. Not until he had avenged them.

That night, Jacob rode off into the forest alone, with nothing but the blade on his hip. Needless to say, Amelia would never see him again.

paint it, red He'd heard stories, though he hardly believed them, about the devils that lived in the castle through the forest. He'd gone on several trips with his father to pay them tribute for their protection, yet was forbidden to step inside of the walls. Glimpses of them from the gates were all he'd gotten, and they weren't nearly enough to grant any certainty of their demonic nature that so frightened his mother. In all honesty,

he hadn't even come in search of the castle-dwelling strangers, but the wolf who'd killed his family, killed his brother. The woods were plenty dense, fog curling around his horse's feet. He'd been out for days in the weather, the freezing cold nights and the darkened days. No food or drink to keep him hydrated, but he couldn't give up. Not when he was so close to killing the beast.

Exhaustion had set in and he'd found the base of a large tree with thick, twisting roots to be an acceptable place to collapse, however the forest wasn't silent for long after the moon rose. He could hear them all around, snarling with jaws snapping, ferocious and strong enough to shatter any bone in his body. Though he stood, drew his sword, and prepared to take them all on, he didn't have to. A herd of raven horses stampede through the trail, crossbows firing silver-tipped arrows and swords coruscating as they cut the beasts down, one by one. 

It was not an easy victory, still, and Jacob found himself fighting side by side with the helmeted riders, though their armor was more than familiar. The ones who lived in the castle. Their eyes, piercing and sharp from the slits in the metal decorating their faces. One in particular struggles with a large lycan, knocking the weapon from the rider's hands and leaping on to them, but Jacob is quick to react, driving his sword through the back of the beast's neck to sever the head from the body. The final fatality that ends the battle. 

When the rider removes their helmet, Jacob is face to face with the one he saved. Arguably the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on, though there's a haunting glow to her features, a demon lurking in her eyes. Before he can so much as open his mouth to speak, the riders have all mounted their horses and rode away, leaving only the devastation and the fading thunder of hooves behind. 

Jacob ponders their abilities for days after that, while he survives on his own in the wilderness. The visage of those riders tearing down the lycans replaying over and over in his head, right alongside the memory of his family drenched in blood in the dirt. The two mesh together in his grieving, broken mind, repeating over and over, driving him to the very brink of insanity.

He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he only searches. Every day. Hunting. Praying. It occurs to him that the castle-dwellers could teach him how to slay lycans like they do, entire hordes, and he could use that talent to hunt down the beast that destroyed his life. 

He's all but a corpse riding atop his horse when he reaches the castle, his eyes bloodshot from insomnia, pale from the elements. He flings himself to the feet of what seems to be a council of demons, and begs them to train him to kill the wolves.

At first they refuse, some even laugh at his pathetic display of desparity, though one in particular silences the rest. The familiar, haunting female from the forest. When prompted with his reasoning for wanting to be like them, he gives but one simple answer, "I want to slaughter every last wolf." and it seems to be enough for the council. The woman he fought alongside only days ago sinks her fangs into his neck, and everything fades away except for the slowing of his heartbeat.

When Jacob opens his eyes hours later, everything about him has changed. He's a vampire, as is explained to him by his Sire, and an appointed Death Dealer, a warrior whose only objective is to kill lycans.

surrender Hundreds of years have passed since then, and yet Jacob still kills lycans without mercy, having slain thousands already. He has been around long enough to see the birth of the modern world, and adjust to it as much as possible, though his roots still remain intact. 

Though he has always been a model soldier, Jacob has become more and more bitter towards the elder vampires, who treat him and every other Death Dealer like a disposable toy, that if need be, may be discarded without so much as a care in the world. He is becoming restless. His ambition, which has been tucked away for so many years, rising with brand new opportunities. He will play the part of the obedient dog for now, though deception and cruelty are hidden just beyond his stoic expression. He will no longer be their pawn, to do their bidding. He will overcome them all.

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