Deadman Apocalypse Page #3

- What has she been doing here?

All by herself.

- Does my son know?

- He knows nothing!

- You better pray

he knows nothing!

And you better hope the Jackal

doesn't find out either!

- Jack isn't dumb like

you, he'll figure it out.

I'll make sure he knows.

- And I'll make sure he's

dead within the hour!

And forget about Toga,

from now on he stays

with his father!

- It's Tegu, sire.

- I know the name of my own son,

you terminal, f***ing disease!

- Leave my son alone, Ramses!

He's all I live for.

- Brogdale, get

this woman a mint,

a very strong mint.

- Up!

Get up!

Get up!

Get up!

- No!

- Obey your father!

Do not let yourself fool!

This is not about your ability

to stop yourself falling!

It's about your

ability to get back up!

Most of my education, I

learned from my grandfather,

he raised me when my

parents no longer could.

Very wise man, never

liked me even as a boy.

He used to tell me the story,

that deep in the mines where

it was unsafe to venture,

there rested a banshee.

Her screams could be heard

before a tragedy would strike.

As it often did.

He said, those that

encountered the banshee

learned of a mystical

power of which you posess,

anything a person wanted to be,

a miner, a soldier,

a great king,

this banshee could

make you become.

The tale was, of course,

just a big time story

they told to stop

the children playing

in the dangerous mines at most,

but I was fascinated

by the idea of this

fictional power, I

never wanted to be

someone's slave,

hammering tunnels

for the rich and desperate.

I wanted to be better

than all of them,

and though I never

met the banshee,

and most likely never existed

outside that hateful

bastards deluded mind,

I became emperor.

You see, boy, there

is no mystical power

to help you succeed.

I watched as this

world fell to its knees

and begged me to help,

those that didn't join

me turned to ashes.

The entire human race swept away

like tiny grains of sand,

lost in the desert storm.

Silence!

Fools!

Everyone of us, for

fearing this palace insect

strung up before us.

The Jackal is nothing but a

remnant from the old race,

my trophy for the battle I won!

It was his people that forced

us down into the earth,

who made us work day

and night like slaves,

digging, crafting these tunnels,

I saw men drop dead

with exhaustion,

heard the screams of hundreds

as tunnels collapsed.

Cave crashed!

- Stop it!

- I saw their skin

turn hard as stone,

blood to sand and eyes to dust

as the dehydration grew,

as that blazing red star

grew ever closer.

Burnt!

Would they spare us so

much as one sip of water?

Not a single drop!

I drank the blood of

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