Nothing is True. Everything is Connected.
Sylum Advent 2016: December 31st

Sylum Advent 2016: December 31st




Title: John Preston

Author: Bj Jones

Rating: FRT

Author’s Note: For this Advent I decided to do a series of Character Stories.  Basically I picked a Character from each Clan and did a small story of their life.  This was done to showcase other Characters outside the Main Arcs.  The stories aren’t long, 3-5pgs, and a glimpse into their lives.  Some of these stories will be added into larger fics later on, others will stand on their own.   All these characters can be found in the Sylum Wiki.

Sylum Timeline: 1945 AD

Artist: Taibhrigh

John Preston leaned against the wall, eyes closed, as the sounds of silence surrounded him. It was finally over. The horrid, disgusting, heart wrenching war was over. There were moments he wasn’t sure he would survive it, and part of him wasn’t sure he wanted to.

The things he saw.

The things he did.

There were times he could barely look himself in the mirror.

But he knew.

Deep down he knew that what he did, saved lives. Not everyone. And sometimes not enough.

“How are you doing?”

He opened his eyes to see Rhys standing in front of him. The normally perfect uniform coat was hanging open, the hat was nowhere to be seen, and the silver glint that was permanently in the spy’s eyes was duller.

“Feels like I can breathe for the first time in years.” He snorted, as his hand moved to the top button of the uniform and practically ripped it off. A part of him, enjoyed … that wasn’t the word he wanted. The control the uniform forced on him, touched a part of him. That part that needed to stay in control, or become like his father. The other part, the man who hated innocent lives destroyed despised what the uniform met. “I’ll be happy to burn this thing.”

“I’ll toss mine in with yours.” Rhys smirked. “Troops will be in the city by dawn. The safe house is still secured, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Last thing we need is to be shot for war crimes, in a war we fought against.” Preston dropped the hat, ripped off the red arm band, and tossed it along with the long black coat onto the floor.

They made it to the safe house, getting rid of the rest of the dread uniform, and slipping into worn torn clothes to make it look as if they were simple civilians just trying to survive hell.

In essence they were.

Preston wouldn’t have made it through the years, if it wasn’t for Rhys. They had taken to calling each other by their last names, considering they were both blessed with John as a first.   It helped maintain their cover, as their names were code for when one of them needed help.

The fact the two worked so closely by the end was a miracles, as Preston had barely survived his first meeting with Rhys.

He had infiltrated the Schutzstaffell (SS), moving up the ranks until he was working in Berlin. Everything about the job disgusted him, but his stoic control, and barely shown emotions made him the perfect SS Officer.

When he was introduced to Rhys, Preston knew he was a Vampire, but neither of them acknowledge the other. He wasn’t sure if he would even see the high ranking officer again, when he settled down for the night, he found himself fighting for his life.

To this day he still wasn’t sure how Rhys did it, he had him pinned to the wall, an invisible hand squeezing his throat. Preston saw a flash of yellow in his eyes, as he demanded to know who Frederick was working for.

Preston chocked out he wasn’t Frederick, barely getting out the code word that had been established with the Frye twins to prove he wasn’t his father.

Rhys dropped him, giving him a once over. “You’re his son.”


“I would apologize, but in this world…” He waved his hand around, not really showing any indication he was sorry.

“Safe is better than sorry.” Preston rubbed his throat as he nodded, he completely understood, especially considering he had seen Commodus in a meeting with Himmler. “Gabriel mentioned there was someone deeper, I’m guessing that’s you.”

“If you need anything from me or help, ask for Rhys. It’s not the name I’m going here, but will get my attention.”

“Preston.” He held out his hand, Rhys took it with ease.

They watched in silence as the safe house burned, the fire wouldn’t be noticed nor its destruction. It would’ve brought more attention if it was still standing, considering most of the city was in ruins. With the cover of night, they made for the edge of the city, furthest from the approaching Americans.

“Now what?” Preston asked, even if he wasn’t sure why he did.

“I’m going home to Harold.” Rhys gave him a sideways look. “Then lay low for a few decades.”

“I need to meet his Mate of yours.” He gave him a rare smile. “He’s a good man to handle you.”

“He’s too good for me.”

A soft smile appeared on his face, the one Preston knew was the one when he was thinking about his Mate. He wondered what it would be like to have a Mate, would it be warm, inviting, like he saw with Rhys. The other Vampire rarely talked about his Harold, but when he did all Preston could see or feel from Rhys was his undying devotion to him.

As dawn rose, they could hear the trucks, tanks and soldiers moving into the city. They hurried further along, not wanting to get caught up in the aftermath.

“John.” They both turned to the speaker, guns out. The speaker chuckled when he realized they had both reacted to the same name. “We got transport out of here.”

They followed their rescuer through a secluded forest, until they came upon a clearing with a few trucks, marked US Army. “Should I ask how you got them?” Rhys smirked over at fellow spy, Ethan Hunt.

“Wilhelm is really good at stealing things.” Ethan gave him a grin, before climbing into the back and helping the two up.

“What are you doing in the back?” Preston asked, dropping his bag before sliding down onto the seat, exhausted.

“It would seem a family member decided to try to assassinate Hitler, Hamlet got him out, but we didn’t think it would be a good idea if I were to wander around Berlin for too long.” Ethan pulled the flaps down over the back, then moved to the front hitting cab with his open palm. The engines roared to life, and soon they were moving.

“Claus vos Stauffenberg.” Rhys shook his head. “His plan was good, solid, too bad it didn’t work.”

“Well he’s safe at the Council at the moment, once things settled we’ll figure out where to put him.” Ethan glanced over at Rhys. “Transport is set up to get you from Geneva to Rome.”

He nodded, settling down for the long trip. “Wake me when we get there.”

Preston turned his attention to Ethan. “Tell me about this Stauffenberg…”


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