It was the worst of times...

As you may recall, Drake Kampmann was defeated by his own father as told earlier in the blog. His Spirit form was pushed from his body, which was taken over by the entity known as Dracaar, and pushed forced into a ring that he had carried.

That ring rolled over to me, so I became the lucky owner of a ring bearing the less-than-pleased Spirit form of my so-called creator. I cannot fully express the irony of that situation in a few simple sentences, but suffice it to say that I found more than a little joy in carrying around a Chakra-like device containing Drake’s soul.

However, the down side of becoming Drake’s keeper, so-to-speak, was that I had to carry him with me. I couldn’t destroy the thing, much as I might have wanted to, because of the possibility that his Spirit form would then be free to seek a new host body. I couldn’t lock the thing away, because I didn’t want to take the chance that Drake might be able to communicate with El Diablito, or the Little Devil would find a way to locate the ring himself, and then I would be back to square one with him again.

So, that left me carrying Drake around with me.

And that gave Drake a chance to talk to me.

For any of you who already know me, you’ll appreciate the next statement:

About the last damn thing in the world I needed was another damn nut job voice speaking in my head.

I already have to contend with the constant cacade of dark whispers that are left over remnants of my time with Ma Grendel and all of the poor bastards she consumed over time.

To compound things even further, I have the entire adult memory set of Dr. Daniel Bernstein, otherwise known as Dr. Geek, locked away in my head. That batch of oh-so-joyful experiences includes such fond memories as seeing my own eviscerated body in lab and the brutal rape and kidnapping of Zenny Al Farhan.

And now, I had the joy of nearly constant communication with the sarcastic, know-it-all, son of a bitch who created my zombie ass.

I’m sorry. I see that I am beginning to slip into old habits again. You see, having Drake around all of the time does stuff like that. Sigh. I’ll try to watch my language a little bit better. I’m certainly not a language prude, but I have been trying to cut down on the profan ity a little bit.

So, let me get back to where I was before I resorted back to Angry Rusty.

Now having Drake as a perpetual prisoner under my control, where I could yank his chain (literally--since I put the ring on a chain and wear it around my neck) whenever I chose to certainly has its advantages. But things are a little more complicated in that the bastard (oops-sorry), er rather, Drake keeps telling me things about what he did in the past that I don’t how much I can trust the truth of.

If even half of what he has been telling me is true, Dracaar is far too dangerous to leave to his own devices, not only because he possesses the powers of a virtual demi-god, but because Drake claims to have trapped over a dozen others such entities over the milennia of his existence. AND, Drake keeps pointing out, Dracaar is likely going to set about freeing the rest of his kindred souls from their various prisons.

Of course, Drake never offers up information for free. Even as he does his level best to convince me that Drakaar is a first class threat to all of humanity, he refuses to give me the solid information that would allow me to verify even a single one of his claims of gloom and doom unless I do certain things for him.

So, what does Drake want me to do?

Stay tuned...