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And The Devil Makes Three

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Henry regularly prays that the Lord forgive him his sins. He’d tried doing His work by slaying vampires whenever he encountered them, fashioning silver daggers between orders in his smithy. But, the Lord abandoned him on that chilly spring day when Henry encountered Him, the man who took his life and Edeva’s but spitefully left him alive to grieve her. Still, Henry continued to pray for many years, continued to ask for guidance, for relief from his misery, for a way to sooth the growing monster inside him, but none was forthcoming. Finally, Henry stopped praying, and when he stopped, He returned.

“Pathetic,” He’d snickered at Henry’s tears when he first tasted human blood, when he first touched Him way he used to touch Edeva, and Henry swore never to utter another prayer.

Until the day he met Abraham Lincoln and Henry knew that God had not abandoned him after all.

No matter how many times Henry broke from His clutches, no matter how many times he swore he would never allow Adam to seduce him again, he wound up back under his influence, in his arms, in his bed. Henry knew himself weak, and no matter how hard he swam, the current always carried him back to Adam.

“I know you hate me,” Adam would croon as he kissed Henry’s neck, as he penetrated him. When they fucked, He’d whisper to Henry about their coming dominion over man, about their need for their own country, and sometimes, Lord help him, Henry thought they could live out eternity as companions. Sometimes it all sounded so logical. Then, he’d remember how Edeva screamed as He drank her life’s blood and dropped her into the dirt like rubbish, and Henry hated Him all over again, hated his touch, his manipulations, how easily He owned Henry.

Henry swore that if it took an eternity he should see Him killed. It was an idle dream, something to cling to as they broke apart and crashed together again in magnificent spectacles of murder and blood and violence. As the years, decades, and centuries waned, Henry less and less fought his destiny beside Adam until he chanced upon the young man in the bar, stupid, rash, too idealistic, and Henry’s dream stood idle no more. Abraham, Henry, and Adam all crashed together one more time, and this time He, Adam, didn’t get up.