Hire Jim Essian

There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part.

-Bram Stoker, Dracula

Readers, what I am about to reveal my alarm you and offend your sense. It may chill your heart and shock you to your very core. But it is a tale that must be told. A tale of unspeakable horror. A tale that’s been cut really short, because novels are hard to write and you guys won’t read it, anyhow. Of dark things that live at the edge of shadows. Of one man’s struggle against pure evil. You know this evil as the Impaler. As Nosferatu. As Count Dracula. And so, our story begins. Well, ends. The story of Sam Helsing.

Our story begins, as stories like this are wont to do, on a dark and stormy night. Sam Helsing approaches a dark castle. He has been on the hunt for his nemesis, Dracula, for, lo, these many years. His eyes are weathered with age. His body is scarred from his past encounters with the Dark Prince. His resolve and courage are as strong as ever, though, as he ascends the steps to the castle.





Sam Helsing has tracked this monster all his life. The unholy beast took his son, his wife, everything that mattered in Sam Helsing’s life. Now, Sam Helsing has but one thing left.

“Vengeance,” he mutters under his breath.

Sam Helsing’s steps echo through the great castle as he makes his way toward the steps leading down. Down into the crypt. Down where Dracula sleeps. He carries with him a bat. A bat filled with garlic, poison to the creature. The memories of his fallen comrades haunt him as he enters the crypt.





Sam Helsing brandishes his bat in front of him as he approaches Dracula’s coffin. Suddenly, the coffin flies open, and Dracula springs forth at Sam Helsing’s throat. But Sam Helsing’s reflexes are still sharp. He blocks Dracula’s attack with his forearm. The creature’s teeth sink deep into Sam Helsing’s muscle. The pain explodes through Sam Helsing’s arm. His blood, warm and sticky, pours out from the wound.

Summoning the last of his fading strength, Sam Helsing swings with all his might at the creature. His bat breaks in mid-swing and sends a wooden stake directly at Dracula. The stake pierces the creature’s skin, the garlic inside soaking into Dracula’s blood.





Dracula shrieks, a sound so terrible that Sam Helsing fears he might go mad. Then, suddenly, it is over. Dracula dries up before Sam Helsing’s eyes and crumbles into ash.

Sam Helsing looks at the pile. For Dracula, it is over. For Sam Helsing, it has only begun. He looks at the bite on his forearm. Maybe. Just maybe the creature’s poison will not affect him as it affected so many others.

Maybe…





THE END???