Idk if anyone’s noticed this but he mentions in the Brandon Buckingham video he tells a story of how he got injured in 7th grade (so roughly 12-13) and wasn’t able to go to the AC/DC black ice tour which was in Missouri in 2009 so he’s probably 29-31. He learned to control fire around roughly 15.
The church bells rang out a solemn tone as they lowered his body into the grave, returning him to mother earth's cold dark womb. The day of his funeral was a harsh cold day as rain fell from the skies with onto the few in attendance. It had been three weeks before the count Hunter M. Canyon had been found dead on his estate near my house. When they found his corpse it had excreted the blood and rotted the floor boards under him ruining the body as it was already mostly consumed by the rot, because of this it was a closed casket funeral. I had known the man only a little and came to the funeral out of an obligation. The morning before an invitation arrived stating the time of his burial.The castle the man resided in went to his next of kin, his estranged daughter Jakobi, we had met at his funeral service. She was a tall slender woman with pitch black hair, like her father, and paper white skin with eyes a deep ashy gray. She'd informed me on her suspicions relating to fathers death, said she had inherited his castle and seemed uncomfortable talking about that place she described as “dreadful and dark”. The woman had a weird mystique to her, she dressed in black and her deep soulless gray eyes seemed as though they could see your soul through your body. It was a dark rainy day of the funeral and because of that few came out to the mysterious counts funeral and even less to the graveyard that day, but I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
Later that night in my estate as I was getting ready to read before bed I looked over at that lonely castle and saw a faint shimmer of light pass through by its window, I assured myself that it was may eyes playing a trick on me and five minutes later after I had settled a knock comes on my door. I open the door to see Jakobe standing there in the pouring rain “hello again Isaiah. I apologize for disturbing you this late at night but I simply cannot bear exploring that wretched castle by myself.” I hesitated remembering the light I had seen by the castle windows but her persistence and my curiosity had overtaken me eating at my like flies eat at the dead and grabbed my lantern lighting its wick to illuminate the night. The road to the castle is slick with mud and barely any moonlight slips through the tree cover overhead. Upon approaching the castle I can't help but notice her giant oak doors with cold metal handles. More so the ginormous metal dog head knockers in the center of either side of the door. The gigantic stone pillars holding up the overhang had chips in them being weathered by years and years of history. Jakobe approached the doors “shall we” she said beckoning me forward, I couldn't help but follow her siren song.
Inside the castle smelled awful, like death and sewage, The giant front room stretched out to two staircases turning inward to the second floor section of the castle. Above the door stood a giant painting of the counts grandfather who had built the castle as a young man. His long brown hair and seemed to the eyes a deep green felt as though they followed my every move. We ventured further through the dusty old castle, “The last time I saw my father was 15 years ago when I had been but barely a woman. He had been going mad speaking of hideous, disgusting things. He would stalk the halls talking constantly how he needed a successor, a true heir and I couldn't take it anymore, so I fled and started a new life. When I received word of his death I traveled back to see if the horrid creature once my father had truly perished, however it being a closed casket funeral I never got to see what became of the man I once held so high in my mind.” Jakobe said as we walked the halls lined with various pictures of the family through the years, though one would struggle to tell as they all look so different.
We came upon where the old count's body had fallen through the floor, the oak still stained with blood and rot. Flies swarmed the area and a wretched stench filled our noses, the stench of death, but as we stood stunned by the stench and the stains we heard a loud crashing thump down the hall. I went down the hall and turned the corner, seeing a picture of the count lying on the floor next to a dead rat, barely smelling death. It must have been recent. The wall has a slight hole. I trace my hands around the outline of the hole but before I can really investigate I hear a scream behind me from Jakobe and I rush down the hall only to find no one there.
Hours that seemed like days past as I went through the castle searching for Jakobe till I found a spiral staircase inside a tower attached to the main building both completely windowless and covered. The tower seemed much thinner on the inside then it seemed on the outside. As I ascended the staircase I heard a voice upstairs, it instantly sent chills down my spine and I went faster up the stairs. “Soon he shall return” the weak shrill voice said in a breathless voice. I shouted to Jakobe and heard the voice disappear and a scuttling all around me. As I made it up the stairs I found Jakobe unconscious on the floor and I shook her awake. She let out a spine-chilling scream and shot up then gripped me tight and started to sob. After a minute I asked her what had happened, “He was horrid an ugly wretched thing with a hunched back and disgustingly dirty dark hair. He grabbed me and knocked me unconscious, dragged me up here, he even knew my name!” She mentioned how this dark monster had dragged her through the hallways and she almost woke up for a minute and described a portrait sitting to the side as they slipped through a crack into tunnels she'd never seen. “Minutes before you fetched me from my house I thought I saw a candle light walk through the halls of this castle, perhaps your capture was the light I had seen.
After an hour or so we left the tower and went to investigate the pictures. I picked up a giant body sized painting of a young Count Canyon. A wall of moisture and stench hit us like a wall as a hallway about three feet wide revealed itself behind the painting. “This must be the passage I was taken through” Jakobe had said. We slipped sideways into the tight hallway and it let us into a slightly bigger one where we could stand single file. She insisted on going first but I wouldn't have it. We moved through the corridors till we heard a voice near the entrance to a big room, I could see what looked like old stone benches with a goat's head carved into the side. “Soon father, soon you shall return. I've found a perfect vessel.” I looked over to Jakobe. She looked horrified at the voice and she rushed in the room I followed after her to a repulsive scene. The count's rotting body sat on an altar with red candles lit glowing a bright green flame on the floor and corners of the altar across from it sat a matching altar only this one empty and barren. The benches lined the room like pews in a church facing towards the twin altars each with candles on them. The stone altars were stained dark with blood in between them stood a man thing, pitch black sparse greasy hair and a hunched back so bad you could see the man's spine through his paper thin skin. He had a crazy look in his ash gray eyes as he darted to Jakobe, his skinny legs getting him to her and grabbing her before I could. He held a gilded jeweled knife with a curving blade at her neck. “I'm so happy you could come Isaiah” he said with a insane look
“Who are you, how do you know me, let her go” rage swelled in my voice, barely triumphing the crippling fear.
“It's really quite clear, don't you see the family resemblance” he says as his eyes move to Jakobe, the sweat building on her brow and tears falling down her face. They were siblings. “He kept me locked in that tower, ashamed of me and how disgusting I was called me a disgrace, but he was wrong. I will be his true heir and I will carry on his life. You will carry on his life”
“Just let her go she didn't hurt you he did” I said inching closer
“ stop right there and we can make a trade, her life for yours, you'd make a better vessel anyway”
“ vessel, what the hell are you talking about"vessel "!"
“His soul will transfer into you. He will see what a good son I have been and grant me to join him in eternal life just as he has had.”
“Nick please let me go I'm sorry he did this too you” Jakobe shouted as he gripped her closer
“Eternal life? You're insane, what are you talking about?”
“My father has been around since a time before, going from body to body, age to age, I am but a fly too my lord serving him, proving myself as a worthy son to my lord of the flies.”
“Just please let her go. I'll give you my body just please let her go.” He releases her from his grasp and she slips the knife out of his hand sliding back next to me. But he doesn't try to get it back from her. Before I know what's going on I feel a sharp pain in my back as she slips the knife in me. I am unable to move yet I can still see. He congratulates her on her help and they put me on the empty altar. He mentions how much he missed being out and how hard it was to find the knife needed. They cut into his rotting flesh, it is tough and the blood comes out in clots spilling onto the floor. They do the same to my forearm. It's one of the worst pains I’ve ever felt but I cannot scream or shout for help. They hold our forearm cuts, cut too cut and I feel my body start to change. I feel myself lose control of the body as I slip from conscience. As I slip into the never ending sleep in the land of the flies I know this body is not mine and it never shall be again.