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Category: <span>Sylum Advent: 2015</span>

Sylum Advent 2015: Archived Works



We’re in the process of Archiving Sylum Advent 2015.  At this moment all the Artwork, Videos, and Fanmixs have been Archived and can be found on the Music and Art Pages.

The stories will be Archived over the next few weeks and we’ll make an announcement when these are done.  There will be a few stories that will not be Archived, due to the fact they are likely to go into a larger story , or someone who shall remain nameless *I’m looking at you John Reese* screwed his storyline and the stories that were posted will have to be reworked and likely go into are larger story arc.  Do not worry – these stories will stay on the blog for your enjoyment.   Any snippet/sneak peek will also stay on the blog.

Sylum Advent 2015: January 1st



(Original Concept Art from Jurassic Park)

Title: The Hatchling

Author: Timothy Quinn

Sylum Timeline: Yet to Come


He threw everyone out.


And he really didn’t care how it looked.

He wasn’t being employed for his diplomatic skills, or for having overwhelming social ethics.

Not that he didn’t have a pretty decent reputation already, for being a giant pain the ass, but after the eggs were successfully fertilized, he’d go sit every afternoon, regardless of how the technicians snickered at him, talking to his babies and readying them for the world outside.

Not that he cared much about others laughing at his expense. He wasn’t exactly interested in human behavior.

It wasn’t his area of expertise.

Much to his father’s perpetual irritation.

But he knew what had gone wrong before, and he knew how to correct it.

That was all he gave a damn about as he tossed reluctant and argumentative stragglers out of the Hatchery by the collars of their starched white lab coats.

Henry Wu had already threatened him with Security, and then threatened him with being fired.

Firing him had been Hammond’s big mistake.

“Been there, done that,” he muttered, slamming the door in the doctor’s face, and locking it firmly. He remembered the Geneticist from 20 years before, and figured that little had changed the man but passing time. Without Hammond keeping him on a leash though, he clearly thought he owned the place.

In Owen’s personal opinion, John Hammond had been a ridiculously arrogant little martinet, who rightly deserved everything he got. He just hoped the Dilophosaurus who ate him, didn’t get food poisoning.

Hammond’s self-righteous nightmare had left no room for ever admitting his own mistakes, and it seemed only fitting that the creation he had unleashed had turned and destroyed him in the end.

Which was certainly poetic enough, but the body count hadn’t been limited to just one man.

Or one of his animals.

This time though, it would be different.

Owen knew it, simply because he knew more than he had 20 years ago.

Not that anyone paid attention to him back then.

Well, only long enough to fire his ass for yelling at Hammond in public.

His father had wanted to walk too, in protest, yet stayed on at Owen’s urging to at least try and defend the Dinosaurs from human insanity a while longer.

That his father had later returned home as one of only 6 survivors from the collapse of that first park – barely able to function for a while, and utterly unable to talk about what happened – had left him guilt ridden and even more angry at Hammond’s bullshit. But it had also made him more determined than ever to correct what he reasoned he had at least been partly responsible for.

His quest for answers had eventually led him to 24 months of solid research on Isla Sorna – another one of Hammond’s unmitigated fucking disasters.

Who builds in a hurricane area, then abandons the entire place for won’t of a storm? Without regard for the animals? Or their future?

Still, it had permitted him chance to observe without hindrance, to document and assess, and learn what needed doing.

No one really believed any of the rumors at first, let alone that some fool might try again one day to build a functional dinosaur park for paying guests.

It was probably a good thing then, that he didn’t think much like other people, or he might never have figured out what really came next. He wasn’t as insane as people liked to believe. He was just happier with his animals.

Predators mostly.

Those he understood.

Sitting on his favorite stool, he perched over the artificial nest with absolute concentration, not wanting the negativity of the past too much at the forefront of his mind while he should be more properly focused on the birth taking place before him.

He’d beaten the total crap out of anyone he ever heard since that first park failed, go mouthing off and blaming his father for it. Though he knew his dad well enough to grasp that the man never knew about what he did for him. They were, after all, far too much alike in certain matters, for either of them to readily accept.

Which rather drove poor Dilios a bit daft now and then.

The egg moved.

If he concentrated on it, he could hear the tiny, yet remarkably strong heartbeat of the creature coming from within, and it made him grin even as his own sense of impending, life-changing drama began to unfold. For no matter how much he was tempted to, he couldn’t alter or otherwise unduly influence what was happening. Bad enough there really ought to have been a pair of eggs hatching, until a careless technician knocked into the delicate heated table and upset the well balanced environment to such a degree that one egg toppled and was broken, he himself had no right to interfere despite the role he most fully and completely intended to play in his animals’ lives. He had literally gone batshit all over Wu and his minions when he’d gotten to the lab that fateful afternoon, just a little over a month ago, to find an egg missing. No one had thought to call and tell him about the disaster. They simply said they’d ‘make’ another embryo grouping later. And that was that.

It had taken Misrani to calm him the hell down before he killed someone, and while he’d ranted furiously at the terribly polite and very reasonable Indian Vampire who had bought John Hammond’s dream in an assets auction, Owen wasn’t entirely sure he’d made himself anywhere near clear enough.

The Dinosaurs were not assets.

They were numbered.




And treated like product sure enough.

Which was so many shades of just plain wrong, he had no idea how to begin explaining it better.

Misrani saw investment.

And while he understood that his investment was indeed effectively creating new life, he had yet to be fully exposed to the consequence of it. At least as far as Owen was concerned.

With the first crack, came tiny scratching sounds, and for a moment he fumbled with his phone to snap a picture, realizing that as he had documented his chosen subject on Isla Sorna for future reference, he should do the same of the new park on Isla Nublar.

It was almost set to open; the final touches being put on shops, facilities and hotels. Systems were being tested and retested for animal containment and control, even as he sat there, holding the breath he didn’t need. But he was ready. His paddock was built to his specifications, his operating systems in place, his team getting geared up and learning how to work together for the ultimate good of his animals. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to achieve it.

Careless technicians not withstanding.

He knew his people looked like low-life, former mercenary type reprobates, not neatly uniformed park attendants, but appearances were not what he cared about.

The Raptors were.

And they were absolutely not going on display like they were circus freaks or pets to be cooed over.

One crack became two.

Then three.


Then a spider’s web of pressure marks as the Hatchling tested its strength in what would be just the first of many occasions it might doubtless face in its life.

“That’s it,” he murmured encouragingly. “C’mon, you can do it.”

Owen had witnessed the birth of many animals in his time, from Alpacas to Zebras, Wildebeests, Lions, Cheetahs, even Giraffes and Hippos. He’d also worked with Sarah Harding to document observations on the raising of Stegosaurus, T-Rex and Triceratops. He’d gotten close enough to see Pterodactyls hatch, and Spinosaurus Aegypticus feeding.

Yet time after time, he came back to the Raptors, drawn with rapt fascination to the most cunning and powerful of ancient predators, just as he had been to the big cats of Africa as a boy.

He was comfortable with them.

And they changed his life in return.

His eyes widened as pieces of the egg fell off and a tiny claw appeared, scrabbling around in the outside air, tugging at the broken edges and pulling more away.

It made him laugh in delight, despite the grief at knowing there ought to have been two new births that day in Jurassic World. The remaining Hatchling was strong. And getting stronger.

He paid attention to every sound, sight, and smell, noting them all.

He would be doing this again.

He knew it.

Hammond had deliberately imprinted on every Dinosaur born to that first park, even the ones who ate him.

As though somehow they would think of him in terms of God, when their creator was anything but holy.

Owen snorted, just as the Hatchling did, its head popping out into daylight – or rather the lights of the sterile room that held the nesting pads of each genetically manipulated species in the park.

He laughed again as he was blinked at, the miniature Raptor eyeing him with perfect curiosity, a piece of shell on its face like a half-tilted hat.

“Hi!” Own said cheerfully, knowing he sounded stupid but completely at a loss to know what else might seem appropriate.

He got a squeak in reply, that was followed by a lot more frantic scrabbling as the Raptor struggled to tear away the membranes that had encase it and kept it safe.

It took less time than he had seen with such births in the wild.

The new species that had been agreed upon for Jurassic World, were in fact not as genetically pure as those he’d first observed with his father, or those on Isla Sorna. The only way any insurance company would underwrite a second theme part, or investors would enable more research and study, was by ‘calming’ the de-extinct animals down with a great deal more DNA from other – allegedly better understood – creatures. Naturally, Owen had argued like mad that such a thing was pointless, as any and all related discovery would be instantly tainted by whatever genetic traits the foreign DNA would imbue. Naturally, he’d been completely ignored, and told not to create problems where none existed.

To which he had replied ‘yet’, for nothing was guaranteed, no matter how well the scientists claimed they could engineer controllable life.

Ian Malcolm had infamously said, ‘Life finds a way’, but he’d been ignored too.

Consequences being as they may, Owen would have his first new Raptors on Isla Nublar, infused with the DNA of the Black-Throated Monitor Lizard from Tanzania.

And he had no idea how that would affect their development.

As per protocols already established, all the Dinosaurs for the new park were to be female, and the predators would be sterile.

Which also pissed Owen off.

Given that his animals were not to be viewed by the guests, he had actually won the fight with Wu about not using accelerated growth rates to populate the Pack more rapidly. He would have at least something natural in his Raptors, if nothing else.

Free of shell and membrane, the new Raptor sat for a second in its nesting pad, still staring at him, expecting some response on his part, and it gave Owen better chance to inspect her still wet and sticky scales.

She was beautiful – a dark, silvery grey with a sharp, white dorsal line that framed a richly shimmering blue streak that ran from the rear orbit of each eye to the very tip of her tail.

Still she stared at him, blinking with nictitating eyelids, before she finally leapt straight at his neck.

Instinctively he caught her, his hands rising to protect himself, and her tiny razor sharp little needle pointed claws sank into his palm, cutting right through the skin between his thumb and forefinger on both hands.

The two of them stayed like that, poised as though in mid-battle, seeking dominance and looking for purpose.

Owen, realizing what that truly meant, did his utmost not to cry out in pain, and squeezed her more tightly, pushing her steadily but firmly away from his face, despite the blood that was pouring quite freely down his arms.

It was everything.

That single moment.

It defined them both.

Finally, after what felt to the both of them like an age of struggle, it was simply over, and chilled by no longer being in the warm light of the heat lamp over the nest, the baby Raptor sighed, and squirmed its way out of his hands, up his right sleeve, and into the breast pocket of his flannel shirt. Her claws were perfect for climbing the heavy material, and not once did she break his skin that time.

Owen laughed, awed by her speed and agility.

She was a touch larger than he anticipated, and he found himself hoping her colors wouldn’t darken too much as she grew.

She needed to feed though, which meant he had to get her out of that laboratory environment, and into the real world.

“You good in there?” he asked, rubbing a forefinger over her head between her orbital ridges.

She yipped at him, making some very familiar sounding chirps and baby growls.

“Yeah, hungry. I know. You want food now. I get it.”

She blinked at the sound of his voice.

“So let’s go home.”

He stood up, stretching his back right when the door burst open and two big, burly InGen Security guards charged in like proverbial bulls in the proverbial china shop.

Owen’s first instinct was protection of his Raptor.

And secondly for protection of the other eggs that comprised at last a dozen different species for the park.

The Hatchling growled, unafraid and utterly undaunted as her Alpha leapt with Vampire speed to save a clutch of Triceratops eggs from hitting the floor. Like a juggler, he caught each one in midair as it rolled, snagging all three and slipping them with remarkable tenderness back where they belonged.

Thankfully, his blood that had been spilled in achieving dominance over the infant Raptor, turned to dust during the distraction, leaving no one else present, any the wiser.

And then the yelling started, Wu loudly demanding that Owen be thrown not just out of the building, but off the island entirely, accusing him of theft, intimidation and bullying, damaging InGen property and interference with the running of both the labs and the park itself, harassment, criminal intent and trespass. In fact, he sounded so very much like John Hammond in his outrage, that someone should dare come and upset his self-righteous empire building, that Owen seriously wished he could spit venom at him like a Dilophosaurus.

It took Simon Masrani to defuse what rapidly became a weird kind of Mexican Stand Off, for the guards who most certainly felt it their duty to try and act on behalf of their employer and his precious Dinosaurs, were incredibly reluctant to go against the man with the Raptor in his pocket, especially when said Raptor hissed at them all nastily, and bared her teeth most fiercely.

“Velociraptors are lethal at 8 months old, but that doesn’t mean she can’t tear your eyes out, rip your face open and eat your tongue for breakfast.” Owen felt no need whatsoever to beat around the bush.

The guards backed off, valuing their tongues and eyeballs as much as the next man.

Wu only stopped yelling when Masrani came in, the considerable number of people thronging the Hatchery doorway, parting for him the Red Sea before Moses.

The baby Raptor snarled at him, warning him to back off too, whereupon he eyed the little scrap of dangerous life far more respectfully.

“Mister Grady, you know the procedures for all Hatchlings in this park,” the other Vampire began, every inch the forceful, powerful, yet softly spoken businessman of enormous reputation. “The Raptors are not your personal property.”

“It has to be weighed, measured, tested for defects…”

Wu’s protestations were silenced by a wave of Masrani’s left hand.

Owen never moved. “We talked about this. No chips. No trackers. No barcodes. No product listing. This is my project. I don’t care which branch of the US Military funds it. This is on my authority. Mine alone.” He spoke calmly, for the sake of the Raptor’s patience more than anyone else’s. Making eye contact also helped; with Hammond, it had been perceived as a threat, but with Masrani, it was two men being honest with each other.

An elegantly coiffed, immaculately dressed red-headed woman in a white outfit and three inch pumps, strode purposefully into the room like she’d come to fix the entire problem herself. Yet she utterly ignored it all, murmuring in Masrani’s ear that there was a meeting he was late for.

Simon smiled generously, despite lines of stress and worry creasing at his face. “Ah! Of course! Yes, yes! So be it!”

Wu snorted in disgust. “That animal belongs in this lab!” he cried. “It has to be…”

Masrani stalked out with the woman, whom Owen imagined to be his latest Personal Assistant. But the man’s comments had been rather a bit too ambiguous for the park’s Chief Geneticist, who was still angry and upset that his creations were being encroached on by those who knew nothing of his genius.

Trying not to look smug, Owen also walked away, Wu’s voice ringing in his ears, screeching something about blood tests and calories and growth factors and disease potential.

“Get back here, this instant!!” Henry almost stamped his feet in frustration. He was not a man of violence though. He was simply used to be being obeyed.

With his usual aplomb, Owen flipped him off, raising the middle finger of his left hand and taunting the other scientists without so much as a glance back over his shoulder.

To his delight, the baby Raptor copied him, flicking up a clawed toe at those who were staring, and pointing, and muttering darkly.

“I’m naming it Velociraptor 001!” Henry was about ready to start throwing things, wondering how the hell Owen could get away with such blatant disregard. “You hear me, Mister Grady?”

Owen stopped dead in his tracks at the end of the corridor that lead out to the nearly completed Visitor Discovery Center, where an 8 foot bronze of John Hammond and his amber topped cane, was being currently installed.

The baby Raptor chirped at him and blinked most politely.

“She already has a name!” he growled in reply, stroking her head softly. “Don’t you, Blue.”

Sylum Advent 2015: December 30th




Title: Protector of Rome

Author: Bj Jones

Sylum Timeline: Way way way in the future

Note: Download Sylum Anniversary Vol 2 – hit Assassins Creed Trailer … and read.


He moved with ease.

For he had walked these steps a hundred thousand times before.

The crowd parted.

First the media.

Then the people.

Finally the Cardinals.

The mass of red swept itself aside as he continued his journey to the steps of the Basilica.

He stopped a few feet past the Pillars of the Church, his focus on the Pope who stood before him.

Alexander VII.

Rodrigo Borgia.

Returned once more.

He had worked his way through the ranks of the Clergy, all the way to Cardinal. Bribed, threatened, and manipulated the College to win election at Conclave. Within six weeks of his taking office, his corruptions spread through the Church.

Indulgences sold for a price.

Mercy given for a favor.

He claimed that the plague of Vampires on this world was due to the sins of the Church.   Declared divorce once again unforgiveable, homosexuals were to be banned, children of unwed mothers not to be baptized. Forgiveness was not a blessing, but could only be earned.

The hungry grew hungrier.

The outcast became more disgraced.

The sick became sicker.

Alexander VII lived in luxury, wearing fine silks and gold crowns. His favorite Cardinals got cushy jobs, and extravagant homes, while those who opposed him were exiled and destroyed.

“Who do you think you are?” The Pope stared down at the Man in White.

“I was given the task of protecting St. Peters Church from those outside who would bring Her harm.” He paused, head raised as he looked brazenly at the Pope. “Or from those who choose to corrupt Her from within.”

“Giovanni Auditore!”

He smirked wickedly. “I will not have you corrupt the Vatican any further with your greed. You have no place in His Church, Rodrigo. You did not before. You do not now.”

“And you have no power here!” he growled snapping his fingers.

Vatican Police and Swiss Guards moved between their Pope and the well-perceived threat.

With a flare of the dramatic, the Assassin threw his hood back, revealing a familiar face to them. “My name is Ernesto Olivetti, Inspector General of Vatican Security. You know who I am. I command you men to put down your weapons, for this is not a Holy Man who was divinely Chosen, but a man who has sought power and greed for his own earthly desires.”

The Square went quiet.

The first to bow their heads in respect and walk away were his Vatican Police. For the story was legendary within their ranks, that on the day after Pius XVII had been buried, Inspector Olivetti’s office, along with his rooms in the Apostolic Palace, had been Sealed. The only thing he left behind, were his badge and gun, which were now located in the Vatican Archives.

It had been rumored that when the Church most needed Her protector, he would return.

Many had laughed at those who still believed.

But they held onto the hope that one day it would prove true.

That the Inspector would once again take charge of the Vatican, and prepare it for the safe return of Pope Patrick.

The Swiss Guard hesitated, but the steel of determination in the Inspector’s eyes, made them take a united step backward. They knew of the myths and legends just as much as the Vatican Police. Their histories had been intertwined for generations. It had only been until recently, with Alexander VII, that the two forces were once again separated.

The few men who continued to move forward, were easily disarmed and tossed aside.

None were killed. Only their pride was wounded.

“You think I would rely on loyal guards?” Rodrigo snapped his fingers, and out from the main doors behind him spilled mercenaries, armed with military grade weapons, and all wearing body armor. “Kill him!”

From the sea of Cardinals came the ‘Brotherhood’.

Ezio took his place at his father’s right.

Altaïr on Ernesto’s left.

Nikolai slid next to Altaïr, his rifle resting on his shoulder.

Javert stood quietly next to Ezio, sword in hand.

Aveline took point next to the Frenchman, while Shau Jun closed the flank next to the Russian.

Ernesto smiled.

Behind them, two men – one who had carried the name of Pius XVII and the other a Monseigneur – bowed their heads in prayer.


Sylum Advent 2015: December 28th




Title: The Past, Present, and Future

Author: Bj Jones

Note: This is a rework of the Doc/Marty story.  The timeline got screwed up (irony yes I know) and the old stories were pulled and a new one is being reworked.  The goal had been to have this posted for Advent but RL got in the way – so instead you get a sneak peak!

Sylum Timeline: Summer 1985

Note can find full story in Sylum Archive


“You want me to do what?” Jimmy asked as he stood in front of his Clan Leaders desk.

Everyone in the Clan always knew if you get called into Nico’s main office in his section of the Manor, it was serious. When they had added the wings built in the early 1900’s, the Clan Leader had his private office and study built, as a counter to Timothy’s Library and Tony’s Art Gallery. Artemus had taken over the Manor Office, which for decades the two had shared, and always grumbled about Nico borrowing it for Manor or New Orleans related meetings. Warrick was taking bets when more renovations would be done to separate the large office downstairs into two.

“Doc Brown is bringing his future Mate to the Manor. He wants to get him away from the family for a while.” Nick leaned back in his chair, studying the Hunter. “The kid knows nothing of Vampires. He thinks he’s just going to a ‘summer camp’.”

“So I have to babysit while Emmett does what?” He fiddled with his black hat, not quite sure to feel about this assignment. “What about Gerard?”

“He ranted, screamed, tried to threaten me, remembered I was his Clan Leader, then ranted some more.” Both Jimmy and him couldn’t help the smirk. “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve asked of you.”

“No.” Hickok had to admit. “But I’m not good with kids.”

“He’s seventeen.”

One of Jimmy’s eyebrows went up, before he settled into one of the chairs and waved his hand to explain.

“Emmett’s been working on something, what I’m not sure.” Which really hadn’t sat well with Nico in the first place. Especially when he discovered the moron had sold most of his family lands and heritage to fund the secret project. “He met Marty McFly while he was teaching summer school, right before he entered high school.”

“I’m sure Doc took that well.”

“Ran out of the classroom flailing and screaming, leaving a trail of papers behind him.” Nick smirked. He had gotten the story from a few of the Chosen Ones in the area who had seen it. “Marty later hunted Doc down asked, if he had done something to upset him.   Emmett instantly melted and been taking care of the kid since.”

“And going batshit, well more than the normal?”

“He turns eighteen in October, but still in high school. He’ll be a senior this September.” The Clan Leader sighed, when he had finally got out of Emmett what the hell was going on, he was ready to strangle the scientist himself. “He was held back in elementary school, so he’s a year older than most of his class.”

“What does Doc want to accomplish while he’s here? He wants us to tell him?” The Hunter wasn’t sure what they were supposed to be doing.

“I think he wants to see if Marty could handle the concept of Vampires. More importantly I think he wants the kid to have fun. From what I understand, the Marty’s home life isn’t horrible but it’s also not nice.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “Just look out after him.”

Jimmy nodded as he stood, slipping on his standard black flattop hat. “When do they arrive?”

“In an hour.”

“Seriously!” Jimmy channeled his Sire, glaring at Nicolaus. He shook his head, before heading for the door.

“Thanks, Jimmy.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” The Hunter called out over his shoulder. “He may run tail the moment he meets any of us and head back to California.”

Nico chuckled. He really had no idea what Doc was thinking or what he really wanted. Emmett brown, had been practically dropped on their doorstep by his Sire, Leonardo. The two though could talk for hours, drove each other insane within days.

Emmett had stayed close to the Clan for a couple of decades, then decided to head back to Hill Valley, to settle back into his family home. He popped up for holidays, and made sure to write Nico a letter at least twice a year to keep him updated, but mostly Doc kept to himself.

When his letters became more frequent, and started talking about Marty McFly, Nick had sent Artemus and Jim out to check on him. It was how he discovered the family fortune had disappeared along with the Craftsman House. Artemus had ranted for days, then with a push from Nick, started checking to get at least the heirlooms. He also had a habit of dropping cash into Doc’s accounts.

But neither of them could find out what he was working on.

Nico knew something was wrong, when Thomas handed him the phone stating it was Doc. The scientist had rambled for a few moments, then dropped the bombshell about bring Marty out to New Orleans. That he told the kid, that it was a summer camp for city kids to see a working plantation. Nick’s head had hit the wall hard enough that it left a mark.

Doc then mentioned that they were at the airport and their flight left in a few hours. Nico hung up on him and started working out a plan. Lucky Jimmy and Noah had been in New Orleans dealing with a case, he kidnapped Jimmy to handle the kid, while he dealt with Doc.

He about cried with joy when Rossi walked into the Manor. He was about to call him, get him back to New Orleans to deal with Doc and his still illegal Mate. The doctor had been in his home in Virginia, where he escaped to when couldn’t deal with the crazy that was Sylum Clan.

After a quick briefing of what was going on Rossi, went to his rooms and office in the Underground to prep. Nico settled himself on the porch with Jimmy on his right, waiting for Doc to show up with Marty.

Van Helsing went to the airport to pick them up, no one trusted Doc to make it to the Manor. He would likely end up on a tangent, taking Marty all over Louisiana and Mississippi before getting lost in Alabama or Texas.

It wouldn’t have been the first time.

The Hunter’s eyes were drawn to the kid instantly.

He watched as Marty took in his surroundings, eyes wide in astonishment. Quickly taking notice of the patched jeans, t-shirt one size too big, and worn shoes. He had a feeling he was wearing mostly hand me downs and the older brother was likely bigger. The skateboard though explained the shoes.

“This is great Doc!” Marty’s voice was filled with awe. “It’s a real plantation.”

“It’s been modified over the years, hence its lack of Historical Registration and a few threatening letters from purists in the area.”

“Doc.” Marty’s pointed at the front of Sylum Manor, with its Greek columns, wrap around porch and rocking chairs. “It’s a plantation house. You’re only missing Colonel Sanders.”

“He’s out back with the chickens.” Jimmy commented before he even realized he opened his mouth.

Nick glanced sideways at him, but the grin indicated he wasn’t upset.

Marty laughed, making his way up the stairs. He held his hand out to Nick first a big smile on his face. “I’m Martin McFly, but everyone calls me Marty.”

“Welcome to Sylum Manor.” Nick took his hand, surprised at the firm handshake. “This is Thomas.” He motioned behind him as the English Butler stepped onto the porch. “He’ll show you to your room.”

“Let me take your bags, Master McFly.” Thomas reached down and grabbed the small suitcase, looking around to make sure there wasn’t anything else.

“Wow a real honest to God English Butler!” His eyes went wide, then promptly blushed. “I’m sorry.”

“No problems, Master McFly, I’m fairly used to it.” Thomas gave him a genuine smile. “Is this your only bag?”

“Is it too much?” Marty’s smile faded slightly. “Doc told me to pack what I had or needed.”

“No troubles, Mr. McFly.” Thomas gestured towards the open doors. “Head inside and up the stairs, you’ll be staying in the Roman Section. The Manor will provide you with everything that you need.”

“I don’t really need anything.” He walked into the parlor stopping to gape at the Grand Staircase. “It’s like out of Gone with the Wind.”

Nico bit back the chuckle at his Butler’s slight shiver.

“I’m afraid to touch anything. It’s all so old.”

Jimmy snorted, biting his lip from letting out the laughter.

Thomas sighed softly. “The Master’s children have done more damage than you could ever do.” And with that he led him up the stairs into Nick’s wing of the Manor.

The two watched as the kid almost trip on the stairs, to busy gaping at everything. When they disappeared past the first set of Roman Doors, Jimmy turned on Doc. “One suitcase.  He’s here for six weeks.”

Startled slightly at his Hunter’s outburst, Nico glanced over at the cowboy, but decided to stay out of the conversation.

For now.

“He showed up at my place with a backpack.” Doc gave a frustrated sigh, he’d been tempted to just buy him a new wardrobe. But knew Marty wouldn’t accept it, and didn’t want to bring undo attention to their friendship. “I sent him home to pack more stuff. He had to borrow a friend’s suitcase, and I’m sure raided his brother’s closet.”

“All rooms are furnished for guests.” Nick looked between the two, settling his focus on Emmett. “Thomas will make sure any and all of Marty’s needs are met.”

“First by feeding him,” Jimmy muttered. “He’s too thin for an eighteen year old boy. I thought you said his family wasn’t abusive.”

“They’re not.” Emmett walked up the stairs, heading for the house. “But they aren’t…” He paused trying to find the words. “Don’t get me wrong they love him, and he loves them. But his dad is a bit of a weed and mom hides in a bottle. The siblings have their own lives, and they are always tormented by their dad’s high school bully, Biff Tannen. How Marty is sane at all is a mystery.”

“I’m sure it has something to do with your influence.” Nick patted him on the shoulder. “You have one of the guestrooms in the Underground. Get unpacked, shower and change. Lunch will be served in an hour.”

Doc nodded absentmindedly as he headed for the hidden entrance on the left hand side of the staircase.   As the door closed behind him, Nicolaus looked at his Hunter. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!” He pointed up the stairs to his wing. “You were ready to take Doc out.”

“I was not.” Jimmy ran a hand through his hair, then sighed. He could tell by Nico’s expression he wasn’t getting away with not saying anything. “The kid reminds me of me. I ran away at fifteen. Skinny, all arms and legs, scared out of my mind. I was on the street until Enright picked me up, when I finally got away from him and ended up with Teaspoon, my confidence was shattered. He has that same look.”

Nick’s expression softened, it wasn’t often the gunfighter talked about his life before the Pony Express. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Teaspoon gave me hope. Timothy gave me a second chance.” He looked up the stairs, ears straining only slightly to hear the kid stammering over the room and that it was way too much. “I want to give him both.”

Sylum Advent 2015: December 26th


The next week of Advent will be something different.

These will all be snippets/teasers of major stories that are in the works.

Yes, we’re evil teases – why do you ask?


Title: The Writer and The Detective

Author: Bj Jones

Sylum Timeline: 2010


Kate Beckett hated this part of her job. She dreaded having to tell the family that their loved one was dead. With a deep breath, with a last glance to her partners Esposito and Ryan, they stepped out of the elevator, down the hallway and into the party.

It was Richard Castle’s last Derrick Storm Book release party.

She loved his books from the moment she bought the first story on a whim. They helped her through a rough time, and soon after became a guilty pleasure. As a cop she found Derrick Storm somewhat believable, as if the writer knew just enough, or someone gave him insider information.

Considering the who’s who at the release party she wouldn’t be surprised at where Castle got his information. She spotted the Mayor, Chief of Police and could’ve sworn a Senator.

Kate always wanted to meet him, but never had the guts to go to a reading or book signing. She had no idea what to say. ‘I love your work’ even she rolled her at the thought.

It pained her that she was going to meet her favorite writer by telling him, his brother had been murdered.

Alexander Rogers, two years older that Richard Castle, found murdered at his office.

Mr. Rogers was an architect and one of the most famous ones in New York. His company was experts at restoring older buildings, and creating new ones to blend into all neighborhoods. He didn’t have the same flair has his brother, but he had always joked that Castle took after their mother, Martha, a diva from Broadway.

His wife died in a car accident fourteen years prior leaving Alexander to raise his daughter Alexis by himself with help from Martha. From what Kate could tell Castle adored his family especially his niece by how much he talked about them throughout the years in interviews.

There was little information on Richard Castle.

It was actually shocking, considering that when he was in New York, he was at the grandest parties, hottest clubs, and a beautiful woman on his arm, there was little about his personal life. Just that during college, he decided to drop out and write a book, much to his mother and brother’s dismay.

Even more shocking it was a hit, after it had been rejected 21 times.

Rumors stated he had a cottage somewhere in Alaska where he liked to write, but no one had ever seen it or gotten pictures.

Kate flashed her badge at the hostess informing her, that they needed to talk to Mr. Castle. The hostess nodded, walking them over to the writer and his family.

Rick turned and smiled. “Alicia has Alex decided to show up yet? Or do I need to send Mother to drag him from his office?”

Kate’s heart dropped. “Mr. Castle.”

The writer’s smile faltered, but held. “And what brings such a beautiful woman as yourself to my party.”

She couldn’t help the eye roll, and ignored the snort from her two detectives. She flashed her badge. “I’m Detective Kate Beckett with 12th Precinct.”

His eyes had moved to Esposito, then over to Ryan and back to her. “How can I help New York’s finest?”

“Richard?” Martha stepped up to her son, Alexis moving closer sensing something was wrong.

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

“Alexander?” Martha asked, shaking her head. “Is he all right?”

Richard Castle closed his eyes, feeling his heart break. He knew that look, written it more times than he could count. “How?”

“I’m sorry to inform you that Alexander Rogers was found murdered in his office.” She paused then looked directly at Richard. “What makes this more painful, it was done as a copycat of one of your murder scenes in Flowers For Your Grave.”

Castle turned and pulled Alexis into his arms, while holding Martha close. His eyes looked across the room to see Simon standing by the bar, along with Wade and Evans. With a shake of his head, his Mate and the two Hunters stayed where they were.

“Martha.” He whispered into her ear, before kissing the top of her head. “Take Alexis home, with Simon.”

The older woman wiped her tears, looked up to see Simon standing by the bar, his eyes soft and gentle. “Will you…”

“I’ll take care of everything.” He pulled Alexis closer to him, rocking the young teenager gently.

“Don’t leave.”

“I have to find out what’s going on, but I promise I’ll be home soon.” Richard gave her a tight smile. “I promise you, I won’t leave you.”

It was then Simon stepped up to the small family. “I’ll take them home.” He gave Mal a nod, and led the two grieving woman away.

Richard took a deep breath, eyes flashed with anger at the person who dared touch his Chosen One. He gave a second nod towards his Lead Hunter, he knew they would follow and await instructions. There were times he hated Nico for handing over Ben Wade. Having a Meridius in the Clan was one thing, having one that had an edge to him was another. But right now, right now he was going to use the skill sets Ben Wade was good for.

Castle turned around, looked at the Detective. In the time of crisis and pain, his sister had finally returned to him. He would find who killed Alexander, have them destroyed, and then get to know Kate Beckett. “Detective, lead the way.”

Sylum Advent 2015: December 19th



Title: Emergency Surgery

Author: Gil Grissom

Summary: A typical night in the ER turns trauma surgeon Adam Franco’s life on its head.

Author’s Note: These are two brand new characters within Border Clan. You can find their bios on the new wiki. This is part of probably what will be a bigger story later on. 🙂

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Link to Sylum Archive


Sylum Advent 2015: December 18th



Title: The Braid

Author: Bj Jones

Summary: His Padawan was being Knighted.

Notes: In honor of the release of the new Star Wars movie – we’re releasing another segment of Star Wars in the Sylum Universe.  Reminder – as in typical of all Sylum things, most of this won’t follow known Star Wars Canon.

Banner: Taibhrigh

Link to Archive

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