My name is John Cook, and my life began the day my heart stopped beating.

You meet the most interesting men in medieval prisons. This one time, I met a guy who offered me immortality for the low, low price of changing my diet. I didn’t read the fine print. Because, he wasn’t talking about a gluten-free diet. More like hemoglobin-full.

And now, I’m a friggin’ vampire with five centuries of pop culture references.

Granted, at the time, I was listening to the dying screams of my mother and father being burned and eviscerated alive just outside the rusty bars of the prison cell, and my new best friend was offering me my only real chance at saving my own life and avenging my parents’ murderers - some day.

Except, my first chance at vengeance took about 500 years, and I had to wade through oceans of sin and violence, blackening my soul - and my already dark sense of humor - beyond redemption until I met Father Thomes, a Roman Catholic priest, in present-day Houston.

Papa Thomes taught me how to use my dark curse to fight for the good guys. Like Alfred and Robin did for Batman - except we straight up murder Jokers and Two-Faces.

Biteman and Pope’n.

We stand up for the downtrodden, the forgotten, and the neglected.

By ex-sanguinating the wicked in horrific, truly imaginative ways and having a grand ol’ time doing it. You know what they say about doing what you love...

But our party is soon cut short when we learn the End of Days is just around the corner, and that the fine print of my contract might have hidden a few other tidbits. Like the fact that I was central to kicking off the apocalypse and that the archdemons will stop at nothing to make sure the dude abides by the terms of his contract.

I guess I need a lawyer.

Get ready to laugh at extreme violence. I know I will. If you’re not laughing, you’re learning.