Vincent Chesser

Who I was

• Triggan Nighthawk

  
  
  Born upon an open field in the east corner of the Phoebes Jungle in Ortuga, Triggan Nighthawk cried his first half-human tear. His mother, overtaken by a Demon overlord by the name of Adramelech (The King of Fire), raised him until he was about two years old. She was then dragged to hell by vicious hounds where she became Adramelech's personal doll for all eternity.
  
  But, she had no knowledge for the demon whose relentless tortures would last weeks as he tried to gain information about their son's whereabouts. In secret, she had brought Triggan to her safespot. A friend of hers, a whore from Old Prague, Checked that spot once a day. From there, she was to take the baby down a series of untraceable handpassing until Triggan arrived in the Monastery of Thaddius.
  
  Triggan Nighthawk, was not an easy child - to say the least. Fits of rage and sensitivity to emotion that bordered on sociopathic insanity were nearly impossible to contain. One day, he almost killed the head of the monastery and took control of the building for himself. Yet, there was a calm tranquility that eventually grew on Triggan - and as his years passed into adulthood...the young half-demon had matured into a man, who looked about twenty years of age even at sixty. He had long, silky black hair. A red scar angrily glared from below his left eye, and stretched to his ear. His eyes were a piercing blue, and a long, rapier-style blade was attached to his belt. The man often dressed in a black tunic and cape, further securing his mysterious presence.
  
  Triggan spent most of his young life battling demons and hellhounds, determined to drag him to his father back in hell. It wasn't until he was seventy-five that he tortured one for answers. He was commanded to return to his father's side and manipulated into meeting his mother. Finally, after a year of resistance, Triggan caved. He took the journey to hell.
  
  
  
  Upon arrival, his demon form split, separated from his permanent meatsuit. A meatsuit that was instantly stolen by Xenothior, his half-brother. A twisted demon created from the souls of babies and children that were sacrificed to his father, Adramelech. This Tortured Creature was ordered to protect the cell of Triggan's mother, Elmyra. Triggan himself, had never seen himself in Demon Form before. He marveled at the raw power that radiated from him when he arrived in hell.
  
  Alas, it was of course a trap to which there was no escape. Years turned into centuries. Trapped in anguish, torment, self-loathing, and hatred, Triggan finally submitted - becoming a Smart Hound - the first hell hound with a conscious mind of its own. Together, Xenothior and Triggan did their father's bidding - no mercy and no prisoners.
  
  Until one day Triggan had a chance encounter with his mother - just eye contact. Her face - a look of disapproval. Her will - her will was stronger than his. He had given in - she had not. Something tugged at Triggan's heart. Something from the Monastery - what was it? Hope? Courage?
  
  Triggan jumped into action, ripping and clawing at the necks of her slavers. His brother returned as fast as he could, intercepting their escape. But Triggan had expected this. Twirling himself into a mist - he sucked himself back into his old meatsuit - and an epic battle commenced. Half Brother vs half brother. This battle took years, which of course equated to mere weeks on earth. Triggan emerged victorious. With his meatsuit returned - he found his father there - clapping for him. His mother, chained to his wrist.
  
  "A soft spot for mommy dearest, huh pet? Follow orders - and she shan't be harmed. Don't follow - and well...."
  
  "Son! Just go home!!! Leave me!!!"
  
  Triggan studied his situation. His eyes squinting with madness. He knew he was not strong enough to take his father. There could be no way this would end in saving his mother. But escape from hell? Of course he hadn't expected it to be easy. He looked at his father, "I propose a deal - where's Crowley?"