John Sullivan Murphy was named after the last bare knuckle boxing champion "John L. Sullivan". He was raised in an average Irish Catholic home. His father was a beat cop in the city of Chicago. When not working he taught his boys boxing. John was a natural. He loved the training of pugilism. He would awake at five AM every morning. John would jump rope and work the heavy bag until it was time for school. He would spar and run every day after school. He was a three time golden gloves champion when he turned sixteen.His father planned to coach him to the Olympics that summer. But, that summer his whole families life changed.
John was jogging home from the gym. His father was supposed to meet him there after his shift. He had told John that he was going to help him work on understanding the Olympic style scoring of boxing. John had trained for two hours. His eyes were on the door the whole session anticipating his father's entrance. He never showed up. John assumed his father must have gotten stuck at the station doing paperwork. Ducking through an alley,John hoped to make it home on time for dinner. His breath was coming shallow now as he had been running for five miles.Lost in his run he did not see the Bum as he tripped over him. Going down hard he felt the last of his breath leave his tortured lungs as he fell. His hands catching him as they scraped across the black top. Getting up slowly he realized the Bum was hoovering over something. A sucking sound echoed in his ears. The Bum was feasting on something! As John came to his senses he realized that the Bum was lapping up blood like a kitten drinks cream from a saucer. As the disbelief filled his head at what he was seeing a horror slowly creeped acrossed him. The body below the blood drinking creature was his father's! The brave man, strong and fearless now lay crumpled and lifeless. John reacted instead of thinking. His fist connected with the creatures cheekbone. A crunching sound exploded through the air. The creature hissed like a snake as it attempted to rise from it's feeding position. John continued to pummel the creature with his fists. The combinations lethally landing faster than the vampire could move. After what seemed like hours the creature fell. It's head swollen like a disfigured grapefruit. John ran to the police station in shock. When arriving there he attempted to explain to the night shift what he had seen. Nothing but cries escaped him. He finally motioned enough that two of the boys in blue followed him to the alley. Lying slumped in the shadows was his fathers corpse. There was no sign of the creature.
After the funeral John lied about his age and joined the Army. He went to Vietnam and served three tours.During his third tour he was assigned a mission in Cambodia. While stalking through the jungles looking for Vietcong he came across an ancient ring. In the ring he saw two warriors practicing the martial art of "Pradal Serey". Entranced by there motions he begged them to train him. Pradal Serey is the Cambodian equivalent of Thailand's Muy Thai. Both are forms of kick boxing. For the first time in three years John felt excitement in his numb soul. John went AWOL from the Army and trained full time. After a year of training in Cambodia he went to Thailand and became a professional kick boxer. After five years of a brutal but successful career John begin to have nightmares. The nightmares were about people drinking blood. He would awake screaming dripping with sweat. After a dream John would get up and begin training. His kicks higher and faster. His punches and elbows more lethal each time they were thrown. He would practice until exhaustion overtook him and a dreamless sleep awaited.
Ten years on the kickboxing circuit took its toll. John begin to wonder what was next. While awaiting a bout in the Philippines he walked into a Church for the first time since he was sixteen. Inside he met Father O'Malley.O'Malley smiled a black tooth grin at John as he entered the church. "Ah me son" he said in his heavy Irish accent. "How is it I meet my own blood half way across the world?" John smiled "Father" he said grimly "I need sanctuary from my past". O'Malley winked at John. "Come in me boy" O'Malley said mischievously " and I will give you a drop of the spirit." O'Malley poured John a glass of Irish Whisky. John a lifelong health freak had never drank anything but water. As he forced down the sweet burning fiery liquid O'Malley giggled at his reaction. "Lets talk of salvation, forces of the dark that drink the blood of the innocent, and how to help you find both!"
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