Name: Aleksandr Pitor Valkov
Player: Edwin Holmes-Lauder
>Born
|>Place: Moncton, New Brunswick
|>Date: Thursday, October 19, 1882
>Family
|> Father: Pitor Mickael Valkov (D.O.B. September 8, 1847)
|> Mother: Marie Claudette (Lapierre) Valkov (D.O.B. February 17, 1853)
History
Part 1
In the summer of 1879 a man calling himself Pitor Valkov arrived in Canada on a boat from Europe. Knowing very little English, and only a little more French, he settled in Moncton, N.B. For the first six months, life was harsh. Lack of work, language barriers, and general bigotry got in the way of almost everything.
This started to change one night in the late winter of 1880. A man broke into Pitor’s home shortly before dawn, waking up the large Ukrainian. Upon seeing him, the man leapt at Pitor… or at least tried to. One punch sent him back across the room and into a hanging mirror, laying him out like a sack of grain. Pitor approached the man and realized something was wrong. Two more steps and he realized that the man wasn’t breathing. The first thing to strike Pitor when he checked the man was that the body was as cold as a corpse. The second thing to strike him was that the corpse had no pulse. The third thing to strike him was that the corpse was not reflected in the mirror shards. The fourth thing to strike him was a solid right hook from the enraged cadaver.
When he regained consciousness, Pitor noticed that it was almost dusk. His first thought was that he had missed a full day of work. Then he remembered the corpse that had knocked him across the room and into unconsciousness. He then noticed a throbbing pain on the side of his neck. He quickly sat up. A little too quickly.
He regained consciousness again to the taste of liquid fire pouring down his throat. Whatever it was, was stronger than any vodka he had ever tasted, and infinitely better. After a few mouthfuls, he noticed that he was sucking on something cold and malleable. It was then pulled away from him, and he opened his mouth to see the corpse standing over his own seated form, red-stained wrist swiftly disappearing into a dark cloak.
“I thought that you would bring you around,” the dead man stated in a thick Spanish accent and a condescending tone. “You are not one of my first choices in this land, but you shall suffice. It is incredibly fortunate for the both of us that your blood is much more nourishing than any I have previously encountered.”
Pitor tried to question the Spaniard, but couldn’t bring himself to do so; such matters were far beneath this man’s obvious superiority.
* * *
Over the next year and a half, Pitor became the fully bound and loyal ghoul of Ramon Parente of clan Lasombra. At first, Ramon lived in Pitor’s house (a hovel according to the well-bred kindred), but soon managed to secure himself first one, then an increasing number of havens suited to his tastes. In the fall of 1881, Ramon decided that his first New-World ghoul needed a hobby, so he would be less likely to develop an unhealthy obsession.
After some thought, he chose Marie Lapierre, the only daughter of his richest ghoul, to be Pitor’s wife. The details were worked out between the domitor and his two ghouls, the date was set, and then Marie was informed of the event. Surprisingly (to the three men, at least), she hit the roof. She was eventually calmed down and convinced that this was the best (only) option for her. She soon resigned herself to the fate of a wife and eventual mother.
* * *
Summer of 1882 brought many things, both good and bad. Pitor was not very happy with his wife, often complaining about the “frigid little bitch” to his regnant. On the other hand, she was pregnant with his child. Also, Ramon received a visit from an associate he hadn’t seen in decades. Unfortunately, his associate was Andrej Valkov of clan Tzimisce, and was more than a little irritated that Ramon had ghouled its great grandson without permission. Andrej was, however, a reasonable Tzimisce. It allowed Ramon to keep Pitor in exchange for his cooperation and Pitor’s firstborn son. Fearing the much more experienced Tzimisce Necronomist, the Lasombra agreed.
* * * * *
Part 2: Excerpts from the files of Andrej Valkov
Date: October 20, 1884
I attended the subject’s second birthday party this evening under the guise of a ghouled doctor, with Ramon portraying my domitor. The subject was in good health, save for a malformed leg, which I promptly corrected. The subject’s mind was sharp for one of his age, leading me to believe that he, unlike his father, has the family genius and may make enough of himself one day to merit the Embrace.
His father, currently a ghoul of Ramon, is an ill-tempered brute. I fail to see how such an ogre could have arisen out of the Valkov family line. However, his physical prowess is noteworthy, and will most likely add to the subject’s chance of survival.
The subject’s mother is another story altogether. She is intelligent and perceptive, though she shows an undesirable streak of independence. Perhaps the independence will be passed on to the subject however. On a final note about this woman, I have noticed a number of quirks about her that portray her true nature; I wonder how long it will be before her brutish husband realizes why she is not attracted to him…
Date: April 6, 1885
Ramon has decided to mover the subject’s parents to a small city in Québec named Saint Jaques, following the sudden violent death of both the subject’s maternal grandparents. (I still suspect that Ramon had a hand in that, though he flatly denies it.) As they will be living in the Lapierre family mansion, I have arranged a residence nearby from which to continue my experiment.
Date: March 18, 1886
Acting upon a theory, I have increased the social pressures of the subject’s father to cause him to act in a more hostile manner. If my theory proves correct, this will cause the subject to become more emotionally detached. This, combined with the subject’s isolation from any peers and ever-present parental hostility, will inevitably drive the subject towards more intellectual pursuits.
Date: May 31, 1887
To further the subject’s education, I have arranged for one of my retainers, Vitali Obertus, to become a tutor. The schools of this area are unsuitable; they teach children what to think rather than how to think. That is what happens when those monotheist zealots are given free rein to spread their filth.
Date: November 19, 1887
The subject’s mother is starting to become problematic. She has started to turn her attention away from her… female friends, and begun to teach the subject about what she terms “the important human virtues.” I cannot allow this. I must remove her from the subject’s life soon, though I am loath to kill her as it may cause the subject to take her teachings to heart.
Date: November 27, 1887
Pure genius! Posing as a young, rich, beauteous woman, I have met the subject’s mother in social circles and indicated… a common interest. Before the closing of the next month, I should have Marie infatuated with “Charlotte,” and ready to leave her husband (easy) and child (difficult).
Date: November 23, 1887
Success! “Charlotte” is now the main focus of Marie’s life. She ceased her attentions on the subject save for what is normally expected in this Yule season. How the traditions have changed over the centuries… but I digress. Shortly after the New Year, “Charlotte” will meet with an unfortunate and tragic accident, using her last breath to make Marie promise to hide her true self no more. Shortly after, another woman of similar leanings will enter her life and take her away to a location more accepting of such women.
Date: January 31, 1888
Marie left the city yesterday evening in the company of one Emorisa Diakos of Kallimasia, Greece. Pitor is now in the custody of his domitor to keep the subject safe. As an additional note, it has become obvious to me over the past three weeks that Marie is pregnant with a second child. My lout of a great grandson has refused to accept it as his since his wife’s departure; he is still in denial about his wife’s orientation, and so believes that she was committing adultery with a man.
Date: March 11, 1888
Things are going well, save for the subject’s father. He is attempting to fashion the subject into a brute such as himself, most likely to reassure himself of his own “manhood.” What fools these mortals be. I will instruct Ramon to distract the lout with some ladies of the night; hopefully, that will be diversion enough.
Date: January 17, 1890
The subject has started to display bigoted behaviour. Upon reflection, I realized that even at the age of seven years the subject can still understand non-vocal clues from the lout. While interesting, this prejudice must be eliminated. No true scientist can be truly objective while remaining bigoted. I shall instruct Vitali to teach the subject tolerance for difference to counteract the lout’s influence.
Date: April 4, 1891
I have decided to occasionally interact with the subject, posing as a very old and quite decrepit “Great Uncle Andrej.” In this way, I will not need to rely on sifting through my retainer’s memories to gauge the subject’s status and progress.
Date: October 14, 1897
Excellent. The first phase of the current experiment is now complete. The subject has now attained the education and skill necessary to enter any medical university on this continent or any other. Before I can allow this however, I must work on the subject’s interpersonal skills. I will “suggest” to Ramon that the subject be introduced into high society until the necessary social skills of manipulation and observation have been sufficiently acquired.
Date: December 31, 1899
As I write this, mortals all over both the Old Country and the Colonies are ushering out a thousand years, and ushering in another thousand. I, too, feel some pride on this night. My first experiment with this subject has been successful completed. The subject, Aleksandr Valkov, my great, great grandson, has announced to his father that he will be attending the Dalhousie University in order to become a Doctor of Medicine. There, the clock strikes midnight. It is now the year one thousand and nine hundred according to the monotheists’ calendar. Strange; though as a rule, I despise the monotheists and their trappings, I find myself moved by this temporal metamorphosis. I must study this emotional phenomenon… but not now. Tonight, I take a respite from my studies, take on once more the decrepit form of “Great Uncle Andrej,” and visit my great, great grandson and possible future childe. I will continue to watch him, but I shall no longer influence him as heavily as I have done in the past. With that, I now end this experiment with the two hundred and seventy third entry.
Andrej Kristof Valkov, Clan Tzimisce
* * * * *
Part 3: Excerpts from the personal journal of Aleksandr Valkov
Saint Jaques, Québec
Monday, 01/01/1900
Well, I was given this book by Mr. Obertus, so I guess now would be a good time to start using it. Speaking of him, I’ve never seen a man that… clean. It’s almost as if dirt flees from his presence. In any case, last night I told father that I have been accepted into the Dalhousie University. The tuition will not be a problem as Father’s investments gain him hundreds of thousands of dollars each year. Father was not thrilled upon hearing of my plans to become a Doctor of Medicine, but he wouldn’t tell me why. Uncle Andrej, on the other hand, was ecstatic, or at least as “ecstatic” as I have ever seen him; he smiled. In any case, that is all for now.
Saint Jaques, Québec
Wednesday, 15/08/1900
I received a letter from Mother today. Technically, I only received part of one. I foolishly waited until I arrived home from the post office, and I made the mistake of showing the unopened envelope to Father. Upon seeing it, he immediately snatched it away and threw it in the fire. I managed to retrieve part of it and run up to my room. Father may be strong, but he is not swift, in either sense of the word. From the scorched fragment I retrieved, I was able to find out that she now calls herself Marie Diakos and lived on an island off the coast of Greece.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Sunday, 02/09/1900
Well, tomorrow I start university. Father still wishes that I would stay home and apprentice myself to a “respectable tradesman,” however “uncle” Ramon has brought him to an understanding. I have yet to discover what hold Ramon has over Father. My current hypothesis is that it has to do with Uncle Andrej, though I will need more information to form a full theory on the matter. I wonder if he’s a lawyer or alienist? A matter for later study…
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Wednesday, 15/05/1901
Well, the first year of university is over. Quite boring actually; I learned more about anatomy from Uncle Andrej’s stories than I ever did from that doctrinaire professor, and Mr. Obertus covered more material than any of the mindless authoritarian lemmings!
It is fortunate for me that the university actually has a semi-respectable library with one or two actual scientific texts, as opposed to the self-congratulatory drivel that most so-called “scientists” indulge in. In any case, I will be looking into ways of acquiring some of those ancient Arabian manuscripts Uncle Andrej has talked about. Maybe then I can learn some actual medicine…
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Thursday, 23/05/1901
This is a surprise. Uncle Andrej is in the Old Country and has invited me to spend a year with him there, starting in midsummer of next year. I believe I will accept his offer; it will give me more insight into human nature in different situations. Along with the invitation came a book; an autographed copy of the now-famous horror novel “Dracula.” Perhaps we shall visit this place. It should be a good lark to visit the home of an actual vampire. «smudges on page» Oh dear, I’ve laughed so hard, I’ve spilt the ink. Well, perhaps I can get Uncle to actually laugh for once.
Sussex, New Brunswick
Tuesday, 02/07/1901
I have just rented a cottage in this small town. It seems a nice and quiet place, away from authoritative simpletons like those at the university. Though there are few of the comforts of the city, there is more space and therefore les people. This should be conductive to study. In addition, Uncle has agreed to send over He arranged to have one of his associates translate some of his Arabic medical texts, and send them over.
Sussex, New Brunswick
Sunday, 20/07/1901
I begin to see what Uncle has against Christianity. “Monotheists,” he calls them. Upon receiving at the local post office the texts he sent, I was casually asked what it was. I replied truthfully. That was my first mistake. The second mistake was not taking the threats from the irate Latin-spewing farmer seriously. My third mistake was believing that the local constabulary would not believe the young fanatical cleric’s outrageous claims. As I now lie in bed recovering from my injuries, I can only guess what books and papers they burned last night. Undoubtedly, I will be shunned as a Satanist and witch if this continues. Ignorant peasants, every one of them.
Sussex, New Brunswick
Saturday, 26/07/1901
As I write this, I am waiting for the train. Soon I will be out of this accursed place. I can only buy the food I need by paying five times the price; this ticket is the last thing I ever buy from this… hellhole! A day has not passed that people have not crossed the street to get away from me, or made the sign of their cross, or touched a piece of iron, or made that foolish gesture of warding, or any number of superstitious displays of fear and loathing.
I am now aboard the train, and a great deal more composed. Since I have been subjected to their religion, I decided I might as well educate myself about it. Gerald, the owner of the general store, seemed genuinely shocked when I asked to buy a copy, and even moreso when I did not burst into flames when I lay my hand upon it.
Saint Jaques, Québec
Friday, 02/08/1901
I have been home for five days and Father is already attempting to regain control of my life. The first thing he mentioned was that many doctors were no better than butchers, often causing more harm than they prevented. After an our, the subject changed to a local blacksmith who was currently looking for an apprentice. Fortunately, shortly after sundown, Ramon arrived with some “business” to discuss with Father. This left me free to return to my sanctuary.
On another note, I finished reading that bible this morning. It is amazing how such a self-contradictory book can be the basis for such a large theocratic organization. Of course it does not bother them that their so-called eternal deity is a spoiled child in the first part and a distant, laiséz-faire parent in the second. And why? Because their clerics told them there was no contradiction. I’d not be surprised to learn that less than a tenth of the Monotheists actually read their sacred book for themselves.
Saint Jaques, Québec
Thursday, 15/08/1901
Another letter came today from Mother. This time Father shall not even know of its existence. Apparently Mother is now living on the Greek island of Kallimasia with her “lifemate” Emorisa Diakos. She says that she has attempted to contact me each year for the past seven years. Strange… I learned of Mother’s homosexuality from Uncle five years ago, but only now as I see my mother’s handwriting telling me how much she loves this woman, Emorisa, does it seem truly real. I am grateful that Mr. Obertus was here when I was younger to help me understand that homosexuality is simply a difference and not a disease of the mind (as Father seems to believe). I shall answer her letter.
A final note: I will be returning to Halifax in fifteen days, as classes recommence in eighteen.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Friday, 06/09/1901
Interesting. Most of my professions this year are of the same autocratic mindset as the ones from the previous year. Most. One, however, is different. Professor Michael Paraben. He seems to be immune to whatever conditioning or surgical procedure that is normally used to remove soul and free thought from Homo sapiens, mutating it into Homo clinicus. All jest aside, Professor Paraben seems genuinely interested in educating rather than merely forcing procedure and dogma.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Friday, 13/12/1901
A rather interesting occurrence today in Dr. MacIntyre’s class. Apparently the cadaver suppliers are less than honest in their dealings with the university; today’s cadaver was the fiancée of a fellow student. She had gone missing two days ago. Unfortunately, Mortimer (the student) was very late to class so he arrived to see her with an empty chest cavity and various organs in various jars. Nearly half of an hour passed before he was able to cease his retching. Quite amusing as I look back on it, actually. Father has always said that I have Uncle’s sense of humour.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Tuesday, 19/12/1901
As expected, the university has hushed the matter up. Apparently two individuals (Victor and Wendell, I could only discern their last names) were quite enterprising individuals. They learned that the university was willing to pay for cadavers to be used in dissections and so set off to procure some. The fact that fresh corpses are hard to find did not deter them in the least, for what you cannot find, you make. They would apparently find a person, man or woman, and inebriate this person to the point of lethal alcohol poisoning, after which they would sell the fresh corpse to the university. Surprisingly enough, I obtained this information from Professor Paraben; he seems to have taken me “under his wing” as the expression goes. The good Professor seems to hold an unsettling sway within the area; he informed me that he had seen to it that the story would never make it to print or to the wireless.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Wednesday, 25/12/1901
The good professor is a monotheist. Fortunately, however, he is not very devout, keeping only certain traditions such as gift giving (and receiving) at the Christ Mass season. Usually, he only gives gifts to fellow monotheists, but he made an exception in my case, giving me an old horror novel by the name of Frankenstein. I have heard about this book; some say it is on par with Stoker’s novel. Time will tell.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Tuesday, 31/12/1901
Last entry of this century’s first year. Some monotheistic fellow students seem incensed by the fact that I do not give out gifts in their holy season, as if I should be expected to live according to their ways due to the simple fact that they live according to those ways. Truly, the human animal (with few exceptions) is a selfish, violent, and stupid brute. I shall be relieved when this “holy season” of ignorance and intolerance ends.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Tuesday, 07/01/1902
School is back and the good Professor is gone; no one I have yet talked to seems to be able (or willing) to give a satisfactory response on the matter. This bears the marks of a conspiracy.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Monday, 13/01/1902
I may have a lead. After “befriending” one of the more reasonable professors with a bottle of single malt whiskey, I was able to work some information out of him. Professor Paraben was hired due to his high recommendations from the hospital where he was working. The problems arose the day he was hired. He began teaching material not included in the curriculum, including ethical dilemmas, folk remedies, and, in Professor Michaelson’s words, “that steaming pile of lies and heresy penned by Darwin.” They would have fired him within the first week save for a scandal involving Dr. MacIntyre and a young lady. The good Professor spoke to the right people and the news never saw the light of day. In gratitude, he was allowed to stay on the condition that he teach “only acceptable material.” He agreed but did not comply. By the time their patience broke again, the good Professor had uncovered enough scandal to bury the university. I will have to drink with Professor Michaelson again as the preceding was all that I could extract from him before he passed out.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Saturday, 18/01/1902
Finally, the rest of the story. The university could not dismiss Professor Paraben for he threatened that the scandals would be revealed if he was dismissed or “disappeared.” Thus, he stayed on, teaching in his own unique way until the Christ Mass season when they were finally able to secure the scandalous evidence and own the right people to stem the flow. At that point, the good Professor vanished. Before Professor Michaelson passed out, I managed to determine that he knew nothing of the disappearance although he does suspect the Dean of arranging something nefarious. Having talked to the man before, a thoroughly unpleasant and conceited individual, I tend to agree.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Thursday, 14/04/1902
The Dean did it. I “convinced” a highly timid janitor to retell the conversation he overheard between Dean Brickmoore and two large individuals on the subject of transporting the good Professor back to England in a pine box. The next question is whether or not the janitor will talk of my persuasion to the Dean. Though I highly doubt it, I have learned not to overestimate human intelligence. Sadly, I doubt that this matter will ever be brought to justice, as Professor Michaelson’s information on their hold over the papers, wireless, and the law seems to hold true. Knowledge without action must suffice for now.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Thursday, 15/05/1902
Another year has ended at this university, and I am once more free of the dictatorial professors and their pathetic autocratic dogma they attempt to pass off as science. I have rented a room in a nearby boarding house until my departure for the Old Country in July. While moving my belongings, I found the book that the good Professor gave me last December. Hopefully, the book will lessen the long wait.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Friday, 13/06/1902
It is quite ludicrous, the science used by Dr. Frankenstein. Electricity used in that manner would not revive a body, so much as scorch it. But the idea of amalgamating a living body… that may have some merit. The doctor of the book is also quite a fool; he allowed his scientific judgement to be clouded by emotion. He had the opportunity to shape a new mind in his image, yet he passed it up based on his creation’s appearance and his monotheist paradigm. Overall, it was a good story, but I would count it more as a tale of tragedy than a tale of horror.
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Friday, 20/06/1902
I leave today for France where Mr. Obertus will meet me in a carriage and take me to Uncle’s mansion. Uncle has assured me that this will be a most educational and enlightening experience. Plans include visits to father’s hometown of Chust, the island of Kallimasia, and even Transylvania. Actually, uncle informs me that Transylvania is more of a geographical section than a political one. In addition, the fictional character actually had a historical counterpart: Vlad Tepes (the impaler) Draculea (son of Dracul), king of Valachia. In any case, I must be off to the ship.
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
Monday, 23/06/1902
We have only been out of port for three days and already a storm has struck. It is not that I mind the weather; I enjoy the raw power of the elements in fact. The problem is the motion… I can hardly wait to get return to terra firma where there will be none of this rocking mot«REMAINDER OF PAGE OBSURED BY A LARGE STAIN»
La Havre, France
Monday, 23/06/1902
Finally, dry land. I write this while still swaying in a chair at the dock, waiting the arrival of Mr. Obertus. This is certainly much warmer than Halifax or Saint Jaques this time of year… almost uncomfortably warm. And I can understand a little over half of what I overhear. Interesting how such linguistic divergence can occur over the course of a few centuries. Uncle sent me a telegram saying that he wouldn’t be able to make the trip to meet me, but that Mr. Obertus would still be there as planned. The trip would be almost two weeks long as the route would not be a direct one. He will be remaining in his mansion just outside of Vatra Dornei and resting until I arrive.
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