I met a man who wasn't there...

I remember many things from my time overseas...Great beer, adventure in a foreign land, unusual food, interesting women, the thunderous sounds of our war machine, and some of the best people...




But what would the light be without the dark? Time to turn off the lights...



I stood at the grave in awe. A giant cement slab on the ground whispered the single most punctuated statement of who this man was...is?



Amid the quaint cobblestone streets of Kitzingen Germany is a cemetery that holds a secret...Vlad Tepes...Vlad the Impaler...sleeps. Is he hungry? is he tired of sleeping? Is he even in his grave like a good little butcher? We don't know, and we don't dig to ask...

It's truly a fascinating place to be. His grave is sealed with gates that have a skull with bat wings as its crest...



The blood is the life...



My dear Vlad...what have you done to warrant such a response from your fair citizens? Why do they fear you so?



You drank your enemy's blood...you butchered your own citizens, put them on stakes, bled them, and dipped your bread in their blood...



You tore at their flesh...burned their skin...pulled out their eyes...



Your enemies feared you...they mistook your killing fields and staked bodies for a forest...they ran when they were close enough to see what you had done...



Then you wouldn't die...they had to burn you, stake you, behead you, and cement you into the ground...tsk, tsk...you may not come out...forever.