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The Great Milenko
The Great Milenko...
From deep within the Netherworld of shadow walkers comes yet another exhibit of the Dark Carnival. He is the master of the art of using magic without magic... He is a Necromancer... the craft of using magic through the dead. Dead meaning both physically and mentally. This spectacle shall be witnessed only by those who are meant to see it. Look deep inside of your soul and ask yourself... Do you hold a ticket to witness the show? The answer lies within yourself. He is the fourth to rise. He feeds upon one's own greed. He is powered by one's own jealousy, lust, and temptation. To envision yourself with something that rightfully does not belong to you... that is the illusion cast by him. To act upon this vision and seek it out at the expense of another... that is the magic cast by him. Continuos dreamers of profit at the cost of another are pledfed and haunted by his wizardry. Others are content and satisfied with what they can achieve by themselves and have not the urge to tamper with another's well being for quick gain. They see him only as a hoax and see no illusions or magic by he. It is simple... He is you. His illusions are your evil thoughts. Your evil acts are his magic - yesterday., now, and forever. You are he and the fourth to rise... You and he are the master of Necromancy... You are the dead and him the magic.
Together, you and he are The Great Milenko.
Jack Jeckel
His evil influence flows from the city streets like red molten ooze, filling every alley and gutter. There are those who are burnt by it, like the charred remains of a napalm strike. He moves in silence, yet with his heat comes ear-shattering screams as the masses are scorched in his choking smoke of corruption. His fire consumes like a lethal injection flowing through the veins of a dying convict. Hosts of small red ants crawl in the wake of his presence, biting and stinging flesh. His holocaust fills the woods of hope and prosperity like a wave of hungry piranhas on a newborn lamb. He goes by many names, but for now let it be spoken like the force of a fireball bursting into a crowd. He's Jack, pure and simple... Jack Jeckel.
Jake Jeckel
His glow of compassion kindles the heart, like a campfire on a cold winters eve. His embers burn eternally, spreading the flame of mercy like a warm blanket over the shoulders of a vagabond. His kindness is fueled by sympathy for human suffering, but his inferno of righteous cause, incinerates creatures of sin to ash. The torch of his salvation guides wanderers in the dark abyss to freedom. Its flaring sparks float on the winds of change, like soaring birds recently freed from a dreary cage. Laughter explodes forth from the essence of his being, radiating the land with childish joy. He has many names, but for now let it be spoken like melodic music drifting through the air. He's Jake, true indeed... Jake Jeckel.

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