Chronicles of Madrid
Maximilian Hamilton Creed
Battling the Beast for Salvation
Once upon a time Creed was a drug lord, and you’d be hard pressed to find a crueler or more bloodthirsty one. Fact was, if you were in his town selling anything he didn’t approve, it was only a matter of time before you and your family were made an example of. He played hard, and made a lot of money doing it, but no one lives forever. Rumor had it a bunch of freaks on the edge of Baltimore had set up some kinda shop, and Creed was going to teach them who ran things. Unfortunately it wasn’t drug dealers, but vampires that he found. Bitten and left for dead, he would wake up a few hours later knowing two things. One, everyone thought he was dead, and two, he was damned. The first was easy enough to realize through simple deductive reasoning, what with the toe tag and autopsy report, the scars were still fading away from where they had cut him open. The latter however was thanks to him seeing just what fate was silently waiting for him on the other side. Glimpses of a hell tailored exactly for him filled his vision in his sleep, and occasionally when he would merely shut his eyes.
It only takes one so long watching hell, before you get religion. Creed was eager to avoid that fate, even if it seemed unlikely, and his curse was perhaps a blessing in disguise. He didn’t know how at the start, but he knew he had to redeem himself, his last hope to perhaps buy back his way into gods good graces through action and deeds. Course, needing to feed made it somewhat difficult, and he wasn’t exactly well liked by the others he had met of his kind. Still, he was able to get his rainy day stash, a vast fund he had hidden away during his time dealing, and with that began a new unlife. With time and research into the occult he would learn of the Galconda, a distant hope and maybe no more than a pipe dream, but to avoid the things that waited for him in his dreams… worth a shot.