Rise of the Seventh Reich Read online

  Drakovia

  Rise

  of the Seventh Reich

  Bolt Publishing, LLC

  478 East Altamonte Drive Ste 108-782

  Altamonte Springs, FL 32701

  Copyright 2019 by Jeremy Croston

  All rights reserved. No part of this book can be reproduced scanned, or sold in print or electronic form without permission. We encourage you, the readers, not to engage in any form of piracy.

  ISBN Number: 978-1700672353

  Printed in the United States

  1 9 2 8 3 7 4 6 5

  Publisher Note:

  This book is a work of fiction.

  All of the names, places,

  and events that occur are from

  the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to an actual

  person, alive or dead, place,

  historical event, or business establishment

  is purely coincidental.

  Contributions:

  Stephanie Croston – Content Editor

  Karen Croston - Proofreader

  Ryan Latterell – Social Media/Marketing

  Shoutlines Design – Cover Artist

  The Story Continues…

  The Brinza family is hanging on by a thread as the world has moved on from the threat of daemons.

  Or has it?

  With World War II as a backdrop, join Castor Brinza as he takes up the mantle of daemon hunter in this all new adventure! Daemonic Reichs, lost gods, and more await you on this adventure.

  The story is about to begin. Are you prepared for what is in store?

  Praise for Malice of the Cross:

  “You've got a solid, stalwart, smart-mouthed hero, a perfectly devilish, demonic foil, a blind seer who more than holds her own on the battlefield, and a cast of monsters and misfits strong enough to make this epic quest a one-sit read.”

  -Amazon reviewer

  “Every fight scene or altercation is perfectly drawn out, with the protagonist’s strengths and weaknesses on full display. I found myself sitting on the edge of my seat with every alteration wondering if and how the protagonist was going to escape.”

  -Braskyyy

  More from the Author:

  Drakovia:

  Malice of the Cross

  Rise of the Seventh Reich

  The Negative Man Saga:

  City of Chaos

  Stormfall

  Prelude to Chaos

  Legends Can Die

  Twilight Days

  The Inglewood Chronicles:

  The Cactus Killer

  The Lost Boys of London

  The Wolves of Valhalla

  Forward

  Thank you so much for coming along on another Drakovia adventure. It means a lot to me that you enjoy the stories I tell and want to continue the saga I’ve created.

  Please, feel free to email me at any point. I’d love to hear from you and any feedback you have to offer. There’s also a very good chance I just might email you back another story, on the house.

  Warm regards,

  Jeremy Croston

  [email protected]

  www.facebook.com/ragnarokonicev2

  @jeremycroston81

  http://ragnarokonice.wordpress.com

  This story is dedicated to my grandfather, Sam Gill, and to all of those who serve.

  May God watch over you.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Epilogue

  About Us

  ::Translated from Spanish::

  “A storm is coming; the darkness that hides in the shadows is about to return.

  With the world locked in a war, no one sees the truth, not like I do.

  The holy number three comes back into play. A witch, a vampire, and a hunter,

  forced together because of circumstance. If this sounds familiar,

  it should. It takes someone like myself, one who dabbles in both

  dark and holy teachings to see it.

  The choices made today will set in motion the unavoidable…”

  -Shaman Francisco; 1941

  Prologue

  **Nazi Germany; 1941 the year of our Lord**

  T he Führer arrived at my castle, ready to hear my discoveries. I was ready, my years of study finally paying off. As Hitler’s personal guard entered the study, I stood and saluted the leader of the Nazi party.

  “Gerhard, my oldest friend and colleague,” he said in crisp, ordered German. “Have you broken the secrets to Vlad's journal?”

  Words weren't enough, a demonstration was in order. “One hundred and nineteen of the prisoners that were supplied survived.”

  The two of us went over to the bookcase and I pulled the lever that opened the back passage. A cool drift met us as we descended towards the laboratory. A heavy metal door stood as the lone sentinel, stopping anyone but me from gaining entry.

  I carefully aligned the pins, the lock popping open. “What you are about to witness will change the fate of this war.”

  Hitler rubbed his hands together. “It's time we crush the rest of the world and complete Vlad's plans of dominion,” he whispered.

  Ever since we discovered these tomes, Hitler's ambitions expanded from Europe to the entire world. Unlike some of the previous leaders in the regime, I supported this fully. It was the destiny of the Nazi Party to reign over the world, not just Europe. It was our duty to cleanse this world of the impure and bring order to chaos.

  “Gerhard?” the Führer said, bringing me back. “Are you ready to show me?”

  Jubilance overtook me as my greatest achievement had been fulfilled. The grand army of the Nazi regime was about to receive a terrifying be legion of soldiers!

  “Allow me to introduce you to the Seventh Reich!”

  **El Paso, Texas; 1941 the year of our Lord**

  Castor had left the day before on his fool’s errand. Radu wouldn't leave England to help. Not this time.

  Not for this foe.

  I surveyed the death and destruction of the ranch. The Yepa clan should've taken warning when Castor and I have it to them. Against a Dracul, they never stood a chance. Roberto's flayed stomach with intestines dangling out proved that. Across the way, Jasmine's headless body was yet another grim reminder.

  I needed to leave before the local sheriff got word of this.

  The sun was beginning to rise, illuminating the copious amount of blood that had been freed from its human hosts. My dark green pancho would only protect me so much. I pulled my grandfather's hat low and kept my hand steadied on the Holy Spirit’s Brand. If she was here, I didn't know if I'd be able to reason with her.

&nbs
p; Mother’s hatred of humans ran deep.

  I gave one last look around, to see if she left me a clue. She wouldn't have; as her only daughter she wanted me to stay far away.

  “Sorry Mother, but this has to end.”

  “Does it, Julia?”

  The beautiful, blind vampire stepped out of the shadows with a crossbow slung over her shoulders. Blood was doing out of her mouth from her latest feeding frenzy. Abigail Dracul, the terror of the American Southwest was still here.

  It was clear she was waiting for me.

  My fingers twitched on my blessed sword. “The needless murders need to end,” I growled.

  “My uncle was right, you know,” she answered. Her accent had softened from her time in America, but it was still noticeable. “Vlad said they were rodents and their actions prove it.”

  You're going to listen to the words of a mad man?” I couldn't believe it. “Castor is human, just like Father.”

  Even her lame eyes couldn't hide the pain. “And my husband, your father, was killed for loving me. How long before they kill Castor, as humans have continued to murder our bloodline for years.”

  Her hatred wasn't without cause. The Holy Catholic Church placed bounties on the Brinza/Dracul bloodline after the events involving Mother, Father, and Radu putting an end to Vlad's machinations centered in the Vatican. Even as the vampire gene stopped with me, Crusaders came and hunted us.

  I should feel the same hatred; they killed my first born.

  “There are good people, God fearing people who don't wish to kill or slaughter,” I implored.

  “My sweet innocent daughter,” she cooed. “How many of ours have to die before you see the light?”

  Speaking of light, the first orangish rays of sunlight broke over the horizon. I covered my eyes as I sought refuge in the shadows. Once safe, I looked over to see Mother was gone.

  There was a new terror in this world, one that might have even been worse than my uncle. Vlad Dracul was motivated by power and greed; Abigail Dracul was driven by personal loss and the unholy rage that came with it.

  Chapter One

  **London; 1941 the year of our Lord**

  M y shot glass clinked against the old wooden bar; the taste of whiskey still hot on my tongue. The man beside me, the old family legend, said nothing. Hell, I didn't expect him to. I'd just told him his daughter was a stone-cold killer.

  Abigail Dracul was my great-great-great grandmother, or three G’s for short. The news I delivered was awful from both stools, his and mine.

  “How did this happen?” he asked in a low raspy tone.

  I'd need more whiskey for this. “My family, your family,” I said, trying to keep my cool. “The church hunts us like wild dogs, murdering more of my ancestors than I care to count.”

  Radu’s blue eyes, probably those fancy contact lenses the rich brag about, narrowed. “I didn't know.”

  “Of course you didn't,” a bit of anger escaping. “You stayed here in Europe, ignoring the plight we were facing.”

  In the case beside me laid my family’s greatest treasure, the Sanctae Crucis, the sword Maximus Brinza used to killed Vlad and end the cruel reign of darkness over that had swept over Europe. The tales were folklore to so many, but to me, these were the stories that Grandma Julia told me so many times of her father. This was my birthright, though I never felt comfortable using the blade. I prefered guns and knives.

  Radu’s eyes stayed focus on me as I sat there in brooding silence. “You look just like him, you know?”

  “What did you say?” I’d been thinking about Abigail and her insanity that was tearing the family apart. What was left of it, mind you.

  He slid another shot towards me. “Max, you look just like him. I should’ve recognized you the moment you walked into my office. My apologies, Castor.”

  “Apologies?” There was a lot to apologize for but not recognizing me was the last on the list. “What about Abigail? Julia and I can’t stop her, hell no one can except you.” The whiskey slid down my throat as I finished.

  Radu looked sick. “Do you know who Abigail is to me?”

  “Your granddaughter.”

  “Then you should know how hard it would be for me to take the word of a stranger, family or not, that my blood is a murder,” he snarled.

  “Julia said this would be a fool’s errand. I hate it when she’s right,” I snapped back.

  Radu stood up, turning his back to me. “There are many things happening in this world that you don’t know about, boy. What happens in that desolate part of the world known as America doesn’t matter when the world is about to go to war because of Hitler’s indulgence in black magic!”

  His gravelly voice increased in tone with each word that slipped through his mouth.

  I may have been a bit of a backwoods American, but I wasn’t stupid enough not to know what was going on in the world at large. “Julia thinks the same thing,” I replied, careful with my tone.

  Radu seemed to appreciate my candor with him. “I’m sorry for losing my temper. Unfortunately, I know all too well firsthand at what the Germans are playing with. If they aren’t careful, they do not even fully understand the kind of Hell they will unleash.”

  “Julia thinks that Abigail got too close to a man named Gerhard Koenig and that’s what caused her insanity.”

  I’m not sure what I said to get such a reaction, but with blinding speed Radu’s head was just inches away from mine. “Did you say Gerhard Koenig?”

  “Some German nut job with ties to the Occult or whatever.” I didn’t remember a lot. Just one day that aloof, yet sweet Abigail had been replaced with the monster that was now terrorizing the humans of the Southwest.

  “He’s not just some nut job, he’s Hitler’s lead researcher. He’s the key to bringing an end to the threat.”

  We had stumbled into common ground. “What could this man have done to a vampire as old as Abigail to make her go off the deep end?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “Don’t matter, though. Can’t do anything about Koenig until Abigail’s under some sort of control. I promised Julia I’d bring help back and I plan on keeping that promise, Sir.”

  “I can’t leave my post, Castor.”

  Just when it looked like we’d made a breakthrough, we were back to square one. “I’m not going to waste anymore of your time, Radu Dracul. If you ever mosey towards El Paso, look us up, if we ain’t dead.”

  It was my turn to stand up and head towards the exit. Before I walked out the establishment, I heard Radu call. “Castor…”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “That sword you carry, do you know how to use it?”

  I chuckled a bit. “Not a clue. I only brought this old thing because Julia said I’d need proof of my heritage.”

  “It’s a shame,” he countered with. “That’s your birthright. As the latest Brinza, that sword belongs to you.”

  There wasn’t anything else that needed to be said. With one last nod, I left into the cool London night, failing in my mission to bring home help. I had a flight out in the morning; that meant an unpleasant night at a local hotel, or even worse a hostel. I wasn’t sure how my American money would translate, something I should’ve thought about before I got on the plane earlier in the day.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking; I just knew it was late. It was just time to suck it up and get a room for a few hours. With as much resolve as I could muster, I stopped in the first place I’d found.

  That was a mistake.

  I wasn’t familiar with London protocol, but the front door being wide open at this hour should’ve been a hint something was off. However, it wasn’t until I got to the front desk and saw the two corpses lying on the ground in pools of dark red liquid did I grab my weapons. The bodies were so mutilated that I couldn’t even determine what manner of creature committed this atrocity.

  The entire inn was silent. Granted, most patrons would be asleep, but judging by the amount o
f damage that the poor folks up front took, that would have woken the dead.

  Except these dead bodies.

  I kicked open the first door and saw that the slaughter continued. Three more massacred bodies with blood staining the cheap carpet. As I walked down the hallway, I decided looking in anymore rooms would be a waste of time. Something killed a great many people in a short amount of time. And if I was a betting man, which I was, I’d bet the creature was still close by. The kills were too fresh for it to have gotten very far before I wandered in.

  I set the case down and removed the blade. I may not have been an expert with it, but most daemons feared the sight of such a holy artifact. I slung it over my back as I pulled my pistol out of my hip holster and cocked it.

  “My name’s Castor Brinza and I plan on killing you,” I announced.

  “Brinza,” a voice above me hissed. Sweet mercy of God, it was a ghoul! “The stories of your family have reached many ears, including mine.”

  The misshapen creature fell from the ceiling to the floor in front of me. If it stood up straight, it’d be a lot taller than me. But its giant hunch kept it from being the towering nightmare it could’ve been. Instead, I focused on the one arm that was significantly larger than the other and the rows of sharp teeth that were drenched in blood.

  A ghoul, never killed one of those before. Seen one, but never killed one.

  “Will you play with me?” it asked, in a very creepy girlish voice.

  “That’s the last damn thing that’s going to come out of your mouth.”

  I grabbed my .45 caliber Peacemaker pistol that was loaded with silver bullets. Before the dumb daemon figured out what was going on, one of the slugs embedded itself into the ghoul’s forehead, exiting the other side. Green globs of ghoul goo splashed everywhere as the creature fell to the ground dead.