It’s been 2 years since my life stopped being normal. It has been two years since I last saw Donovan, a truly amazing man. He was, in the short time I knew him, a most remarkable person, or whatever he was. Donovan was not like you or me. You see, Donovan was born in Atlantis. I know what your saying. I said it, too. There was nothing you could have told me, to make me believe that Atlantis existed. Or so I thought. Donovan had revealed my past, to me. He showed me who I was. And it’s not who I thought I was. I am not your average person. I thought I was, until I met Donovan, the first Sovereign of House Mallantine.
My name is Mason Vanger. I am a police detective in New York City. I was a foster child. So, I didn’t know my mom or dad. I grew up in the “system”. You know which system. The one that bounce you from foster family to foster family, when you have a few problems that no one could, or would, deal with. It wasn’t all bad. I didn’t’ get abused. I didn’t get neglected. It was just no one stopped to love me, I guess. When I turned fourteen, I finally found a home, when Adaline Vanger took me in. I figured it wouldn’t last long. I figured I would scare her off like all the others. I didn’t. Getting kicked out of two high schools didn’t do it. Not even getting in trouble with the cops. She told me she knew I needed a mother, and I could stop her. She proved it to me, when she adopted at seventeen. After that, I was problem-free. I didn’t get in trouble with cops. I didn’t disobey her anymore. I even graduated from high school on time, and with honors. It was all because of her. She was the best. Once I hit eighteen, it was time for me to leave. I then joined the Navy. She died while I was in Boot Camp. It was almost as if she was just living to make sure that I became a good man. You did a great job, mom.
I did my four years in the Navy, and got to see the world. Big whoop. Jumped back into the civilian world, and became a cop, a husband, and a father. None of that would ever prepare me for what would happen next in my life. Well, for those who remember, from the local news of about two years ago, I was chasing Jarek D. Feratu, the boss of the Mortodo crime family. If that wasn’t hard enough on me, my past, the little I knew, was beginning to unravel. Everything was hitting me at once. Jarek was found not guilty, then a bounty was placed on my head, and I was within reach of learning about my past. It was becoming a hell of a year.
Then Donovan burst into my life. He changed my life and saved it, too. We became allies, because we had to. It wasn’t long before we became friends. Donovan gave of himself, without asking for anything in return. He gave his life to save people he didn’t even know. No one will ever really know this man. No one will ever know that Donovan saved them. I could not let this be. So I got an idea. I get those from time to time. A few years back, I read a book about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In this book, Doyle stumbles into the world of John Sparks, the “James Bond” of the nineteenth century. After watching Sparks risk his life, time after time, and no one knowing of his existence, Doyle felt something should be done. That is when Sir Arthur Conan Doyle introduced John Sparks to the world, as Sherlock Holmes. It was his way of letting the world know that, there are heroes, who save our lives everyday, and we don’t even know they exist. It was his way of letting us know that the safety of our lives hangs in the balance a lot more times then we can even imagine. That there are men and women who save our asses, by risking their lives, and they don’t even get a thank you.
I felt I could do no less. Donovan gave his life to save a world that doesn’t believe in his kind, even his home. Is anyone going to believe any of this, or will the world just label me “crazy”? Some already do believe. Remember those movie quotes? Do you really think that Hollywood was smart enough to come with any concept of vampires, on their own? That a nineteenth century, overworked theatre manager, Bram Stoker, stumbled upon the story of Vlad Dracula, the Prince of Wallachia, while he was working on his supposed fictional vampire story? Or are stories of bodies drained of their blood all around New York, just based on a few legends about the Undead? There are people out there who know the truth. But who would believe them? Would you? Until two years ago, I would have laughed in their faces. Remember folks, our very own government continues to insist that extra terrestrials don’t exist. That Area 51 doesn’t exist. That these stories are made up by anti-government groups, or fame seeking country folk.
Veckuj do exist. They have been with us since the dawn. I know that some people, maybe even you, will think I am out of my mind. So be it. But if I can open the eyes of one person, to what is going on all around us. If I can convince one person that one man, or Veckuj, did save us all, then his sacrifice was not in vein.
The book I write, The Children of the Dawn, is dedicated to Donovan, Sovereign, Veckuj, and my friend. I am letting the world know, Donovan, just like I promised.
Mason Vanger