Thanks for being my guest, Tony-Paul de Vissage. Please tell your readers why you wrote Dark God Descending
It’s a staple of the SyFy Channel and late night horror movies dating back decades…the lost city in the jungle, stumbled upon by a safari of scientists…they take away an object sacred to the inhabitants. In doing so, they bring a curse upon themselves in particular and Mankind in general as the embodiment of the sacred object brings the wrath of the gods upon the wrongdoers…the hero struggles to save his friends, perhaps return the sacred object to its home…various minor characters are killed before the inevitable happy ending flashes upon the screen.
I wanted my story to be something more, and something different. I made two heroes, one mortal, one not. Tucker, the mortal one, is a graduate student wanting nothing more than to graduate and marry his girl. Semris, the immortal one, is a curious demon who wants to know what exists outside his jungle kingdom. One gets his wish, the other doesn’t, but both will begin a relationship that will last through many years to come. For the stolen sacred object, I substituted Semris himself. What thing could be more sacred to a people than the object of their worship, their emperor?
Dark God Descending is a vampire story but it’s one, I hope, with an enjoyable twist. It’s also a story of friendship.
The twist? Having Semris not be a creature of terror and fear to those he meets but having them see him as a person, someone they like and want to help. At this point, Semris has no desire to punish anyone or bring down the Mayan gods’ wrath on anybody. He simply wants to go home. It’s the assistance he receives from humans on that journey home that makes him see how good people can be, while his captors also show him Mankind’s dark side. In our world, Semris learns of love and loss, and his arrival back in his jungle kingdom brings about the punishment of those who kidnapped him, a retribution that is both just and at the same time horribly ironic.
Dark God Descending is the story of two men, separated by thousands of years, thrown together by unbelievable circumstance; it is the story of their friendship and what is involved in accepting what Fate has dealt them.
About the Author:
A writer of French Huguenot extraction, one of Tony-Paul de Vissage’s first movie memories were of being six years old, viewing the old Universal horror flick, Dracula’s Daughter on television, and being scared sleepless–and that may explain a lifelong interest in vampires.
He now pays back his very permissive parents by writing about vampires.
All grad student James Tucker Upchurch wanted was to earn summer credit on an archaeological dig to Central America…and to marry his fiancée. All Semris wanted was to escape the monotony of a millennia-old life, and the burdens the son of the Mayan God of Death, have placed upon him.
For five thousand years, the misplaced Dark Lords of Hell have been trapped in ourworld, ruling the Mayan city of Nikte-Uaxac. While civilizations rise and fall, they and their subjects remain unchanged, until Twenty-first Century intruders appear, stealing from them their most precious possession, the Emperor himself…
Tuck never expected to lose his girl to a demon nor to be given immortality, and Semris never thought he’d experience mortal love, but when the current world meets a more ancient one, everything and everyone they know will be changed.
Tuck walked over to the cage. As far as he could tell, Semris hadn’t moved.
Oh, God, did that last shot kill him?
When he saw the slow rise and fall of the bare chest, he felt abrupt relief. He also saw the golden amulet, recognizing it as the twin of the one that had started all this unpleasantness in the first place.
The fruit hadn’t been touched, was rapidly darkening, the sweet, overripe smell permeating the cellar, attracting flies. How the Hell had they gotten in here, anyway? Several big bluebottles were buzzing around inside the cell, hovering over the peaches, a couple crawling along the edges of the plate. One was floating in the water glass, wings fluttering and making little splashes.
Tuck knelt and opened the little flap, reaching inside to remove the glass. It happened. so fast he didn’t even realize Semris had moved until he felt the iron grip upon his wrist, saw the fangs drop and the dark head covering his hand.
He screamed as twin razor slashes struck through his wrist…knowing no one could hear, struggled desperately to get away. Frantic, disbelieving thoughts whirling through his mind.
Oh, God, this is why he didn’t eat the fruit. He’s a vampire! Sweet Jesus, he’s going to kill me! Help someone, help me! Why should they? I didn’t help him.
The pain went away, his arm numb from wrist to fingertips. He knelt on the floor, watching the pale body crouched so near he could have reached out and touched his shoulder…his bare, wingless shoulder. Where did his wings go? What happened to them? All he could do was watch those shoulders heave with the strength of each deep swallow, feeling his life ebb away, and a vague surprise that it didn’t hurt at all.
Eyes rolling up, Tuck gave a little sigh and collapsed against the bars. He was barely conscious as he saw Semris raise his head and release his arm. In spite of being only slightly aware, he felt a stab of surprise as the quiet voice whispered, “Gracias. Gracias por su sangre.”
He’s thanking me? Thanking me for letting him kill me?
With an effort, he made himself withdraw his wounded arm, cradling it against his chest with his other hand. Forcing his eyes open, he stared at his wrist, fighting the wave of blackness floating before his eyes. There was no bloody ripped-away flesh as he’d imagined, only four deep punctures. Two of the five little veins had been pierced, but the wounds were clean and already clotting. Tuck forced himself to take a deep breath, then let it out, and repeated the procedure.
Keep breathing! Don’t pass out. He might decide to have a second helping.
“I took too much. I am sorry. I was too hungry.”
There was such concern in Semris’ voice that Tuck found himself replying, “That’s all right. I-if I’d known, I… Oh, God, what am I saying?” He fell silent, feeling a bout of hysteria galloping toward him.
Something was thrust into his hand. One of the peaches. Semris’ hand, between the bars, holding it out to him.
“Aqui. Come. Pronto.”
So he took the peach and bit into it, choking slightly as the rich, sweet juice slid down his throat, but forced himself to keep chewing and swallowing. As the fruit sugar hit his stomach, he began to feel better.
“That was good.” With a sigh, he tossed the peach pit aside.
Through the bars, hands helped him to his feet. He leaned against the door, hanging onto it to keep his balance as dizziness flooded back. He looked up, meeting Semris’ green eyes, startled at the concern in them.
“Again, I am sorry. It has been so long since I have had the living wine.”
Living wine…what a beautiful way to describe it. Tuck still felt a little groggy, wondered if he was now under the vampire thrall. He decided to find out.
“Am I your minion now?”
“Why would you think that?” Semris sounded genuinely puzzled.
“Well, you’ve taken my blood. Generally, when a vampire—”
“Vampiro! Donde?” Semris looked around quickly, arms crossing over his throat in a protective gesture.
“You.” Tuck answered, feeling he’d made a mistake. “Aren’t you a vampire?”
“Of course not!” The answer was disdainful that Tuck might mistake him for such a vile creature. “I am a Dark Lord. Un demonio.” The pale chin lifted proudly. “Los vampiros are creatures accursed.”
Tuck thought that over. “And you’re not?”
“No.” Semris shook his head, the dark hair swinging. “I am not.”
Tuck realized he must be feeling better, to be able to marvel at the absurdity of this conversation.
Dark God Descending is published by Class Act Books and is available from: