"I know," I answered. At this point, arguing about my purpose in life seemed rather silly, especially against the ghost in my head. "If you don't mind me asking, how did you die? Last anybody heard, the Nazis had taken you."

He hawked and spat a wad of phlegm into the snow. "Bastards. Some monsters are just men. Sometimes, worst kind of all is men. How I die? Is hard to say, is not important now."

"Did it hurt?" It seemed a stupid question.

"Is stupid question. Of course hurt. Hurt when you died, yes?"

"Yeah, I guess." Even in my dream state, the scar tissue that coated so much of my body was still thick and coarse. I thought that I had understood what pain was, until that day in my office showed me that I still had a lot to learn.

"You no guess. You know. Hurts to get cut open… Fine, I tell story, but is hard to remember. Nazis thought they could use Cursed One. Helped him… tried to do then, what he trying to do again now. Cursed One was weaker then, his body was not solid yet. He was like you, want to hurry, not want to learn. He could not get artifact himself, made deal with Nazi bastards. They stole artifact, hurt the Guardian, thought they kill, but not realize he not can die. Took to Place of Power. Here, this place, in my time." He gestured around the church.

"What happened?"

"Cursed One was fool. Time was wrong. Artifact not work. Tattooed Man came, fought here in the snow, destroyed them, took back artifact." That explained the strange dream that I had had in the hospital while I was waiting for Myers' phone call.

"He hid the artifact again. This time vampires help Cursed One. They steal artifact. Bury Guardian under mountain, but even that not kill him."

I shook my head. I had dreamed that. "No, I mean you. What happened to you?"

He shrugged. "I not important, Boy. Important thing is beat them now."

"We will," I promised.

"Only before, they wrong. They fail, and they die. Guardian kill them. Now Cursed One is smarter and stronger. He not mess up again this time… Enough. I must show you more of his memories."

"I hate seeing through his eyes. It's like I'm not myself. It's like I'm actually in his head. I don't like it at all."

"Is… how you say… necessary. I understand, Boy. Is shitty feeling to be stuck in some other body's head. Now shush. You must learn."

At this point I knew the drill. I bowed down so he could place his hands on my head.

"If any consolation, inside your head is much nicer than his."

"Thanks."

Lord Machado's memories.