The Writings of Brian C. Alexander

In this world there exists primeval evil. There a darkness to each person, and a desire to commit terrible acts either out of pleasure, or curiosity. Due to the concept of evil we can imagine the extremes of this nature. We can take into account those things which drive people to do them. We can ponder the outcomes such actions leave and imprint on the world and people they are visited upon. But no one can ever estimate the lengths to which some men will go to ensure evil is done, and let chaos and hatred rule the day. These men are always to be feared. My name is Daniel Bucket, and I am thirty eight years old. From the time I was twenty-six, up til’ now, there has been a man trying to kill me. Not just that, but a few times he’s almost succeeded. I don’t know why he hates me. I don’t know why he does what he does. He’s just a force of hate and malice that I know won’t rest until I’m in the ground. I grew up in Starke, Florida, the son of a man who owned a hardware store and ...

Some say he was a king, others tell tales of him coming from Hell. When I knew him he was a priest. Before that, a pirate. I guess it never really mattered where he came from, or what he looked like. In the end he was always there. A new face, a different voice, but the same will. Even if he didn’t know who he was, the eternals of the world did. These incarnations of the man, we believed, started back at the beginning of time. None of us knew how it was going to end, or if it even could. I’m sure he didn’t mind. The year was 1343, and the black plague ravished Europe. Though there existed the spreading influence of the church, the dead and the dying did little to offer their faith to the powers of light and, in their final moments, condemn the evils of their world. Hopelessness ruled the day and as goodness faded from across the globe there rode a man from the east, carrying the devil on his back and promising compromise.  Once a holy man from the shadowed valleys of the ...