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"Mary and all her crazy nephews..." Walker mutters to himself as he downs the rest of his cup.

"Three years ago, one of Dracula's bastards sons popped his head off and took over the vampires. Damn near all of them. Built some of the craziest into suicide bombers and had them go off in cities across this great land of ours. We didn't even know what the bombers were until the victims started to change days later." He spits out the words. "San Francisco got hit the first and hardest... Xarus was trying to make a statement by going after the X-Men first, build up his power-base. Bit off more than he could suck, and got what he had coming to him. The X-Men brought back his old man, and he took out the punk. It was a rotten play no matter which way you slice it, but it was the only one they had left to them.

Dracula... he put things back in order, at least, for a while anyway. We were all breathing a sigh of relief, for half a second, before we realized people were still turning in other cities. There were just too many. When the bombers went off, it didn't take much. A spatter of blood into the mouth, the eyes, a scratch... some changed sooner rather than later, but before we knew it, they were everywhere. Not just regular Dicks and Janes, but heroes too. Some of them were able to pin it down, some of them offed themselves when they thought they were going to lose control... and some just changed body and soul.

And that was just the first part of it." He puts down the cup and puts his face in his hand. Hard as he is, this is still a tough tale for John Walker to have to narrate.