2021 Oct30 Plot Background Story

The night crept over the Carpathians as a young man quickly made his way through a small mountain pass. He heard all the legends of vampires, of werewolves, of evil that would snatch his soul and bring it back to the depths of hell. He did not want to fall victim, did not want to be one of the unlucky.

“Come on, hurry,” he demanded from his horse. As the hoof beats echoed off the mountain walls, he only looked forward, never looked back. He thought of a frontal attack. With the last ray of light falling behind the Western range, he felt the air cool.

“Just a little more,” he whispered to himself, trying to calm his nerves. With every step the horse took, his heartbeat that much faster. In the distance, he saw the shimmering lights of his village. A calming wave overcame him, and he exhaled.

“Not so fast,” a commanding voice announced. There in front of him, mounted on a stallion black as coal, was a man, a man whose attire suggested nobility. “Hold fast,” he bid, his hand raised. The man then extended his index finger forward.

The horse stopped immediately, almost throwing its rider. He looked at the man and felt a sudden wave of fear flow over him. He dismounted and started to pull the horse in the opposite direction.

“Fear me not young Sobolewski,” the man in black said, his voice calming and soothing. The youngster, Julian Sobolewski, turned and looked at the man. The fear was still there, still causing him to have the need to flee. As he turned once again to leave, the voice once again commanded him to hold.

“Who are you, and how do you know my name?” Sobolewski asked as he failed to move his horse from the spot. The noble person just smiled and offered his hand as a show of friendship. With fear still in his heart, Sobolewski never looked at the stranger.

“Why do you not look at me?” the man asked as Sobolewski tried to move away.

“I fear you,” was the short answer he told the man. “Again, how do you know me?” he asked the man causing so much fear.

The man laughed; his deep voice echoed off the mountains like thunder. Sobolewski’s horse reared and bolted, leaving him stranded. The stranger turned and looked at the younger man. Sobolewski turned to run away but felt an evil grasp on his shoulder hold him still.

“You cannot leave me so easily again,” a voice that was now purely evil. Sobolewski knew it was evil, and knew he heard it once before.

“I know you,” Sobolewski said, the fear still racing through his very soul. “There is something in your laugh that reminds me of something, something I dreamed when I was younger,” he said as he instinctively reached for his necklace. The stranger backed away.

Sobolewski realized there was something special in the necklace his grandmother gave him as a present for his past birthday. He took it out and looked at it: three coins on a gold chain.

“Why does this bother you?” he asked the man in black. As he raised it to allow for a better look, the stranger moved his arms over his head and screamed, a scream of pain and fear. Sobolewski looked at the coins and chain once again and smiled.

“I guess you fear this!” he said without fear, only clarity. He knew the coins were his redeeming feature. He walked back to his horse, and with the coins now firmly in his hand, mounted it.

“Come, let’s go,” he told the animal. It obeyed his master.

“You will not leave me that easily,” the nobility said as he tried to look upon the young man. The coins were still there and caused him great pain. With a roar that resembled that of a lion trapped, the noble person covered himself once again. Sobolewski spurred the horse to run. As the two were on the man, he suddenly disappeared. Not wanting to know why or how, Julian Sobolewski never stopped, never looked back.

The fire was warming as was the soup Julian Sobolewski was eating. As he sat at the table, he stared out the window, out to the mountain pass.

“What is out there?” his grandmother asked. With trepidation, he described his meeting with the nobility.

“Was his voice deep and echo off the walls?” she asked, her face turning ashen as she spoke. Sobolewski nodded.

“And did he show fear when you raised the coins on your necklace?” she desired. With an inquisitive look on his face, he nodded.

“They have found you,” was all she said as she turned to look out the window.

“Who are they?” he asked.

“Those who live in the shadows. Never mind that now. We must get you out of these mountains and to America,” she told her grandson

“Grandmother, what is so special about these coins?” Sobolewski implored. She stopped and looked at him, her love overtaking all concern.

“Julian, you know the legend of the three wise men. It is not a legend, but a fact. The coins on the necklace are their coins.” She looked out the window one more time and sighed. “All I can tell you now is that those coins saved your life tonight.”

“But grandmother,” he started to say. She turned away from the window and told him to get ready, he was leaving for America that same night.