The Dracula Chronicles: The Lamb Of God Read online

  The Lamb of God

  Copyright © 2013 Shane KP O’Neill

  All rights reserved. Shane KP O’Neill has asserted his moral rights in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Shane KP O’Neill

  For the wonderful team

  at Blue Harvest Creative

  God, with His eldest and favourite son, Lucifer, embarks on the creation of the universe and then the earth. They fill it with the continents and the great oceans, and design a myriad of life forms to finish off their great work.

  Jealousy consumes three of Lucifer’s brothers. Michael, Gabriel and Raphael resent his relationship with God and conspire to bring it to an end. While he wanders the earth with Moloch, glorying in his work, they draw their plans against him.

  Michael and his brothers convince God that His work is incomplete. They suggest that He create man and mould him in His own image.

  The idea excites God and, in Lucifer’s absence, He creates man. He places him in Eden and from his rib He creates woman for a companion. His sons rejoice and agree that now His work is finally complete. To their delight God agrees and falls in love with His new creation. He gives man a status higher than any other creature and the most special gift of all, the power of free will.

  Lucifer returns and sees that his father now favours man even over him. He reacts violently to God’s new creation and swears to destroy all mankind. A ferocious battle ensues between Lucifer and his brothers that causes a great divide in Heaven. The angels take sides and kill each other relentlessly in the bitter struggle.

  God despairs at Lucifer’s actions. Yet because of His love for His favourite son He refuses to intervene and vanquish Lucifer from Heaven.

  Lucifer identifies woman as man’s weakness and introduces her to mortal sin. She succumbs to his trickery and makes man a party to her fall from grace. In a desperate act of rage God evicts man from Eden, and her with him. He turns on Lucifer and, although not destroying him, casts him out of Heaven and condemns him to the bowels of the earth where he is gone from His sight.

  The battle rages on between the angels while Lucifer regroups and builds a rival kingdom below the surface of the earth. In the meantime, man spreads out and multiplies over many generations. Lucifer re-surfaces and leads his legions of fallen angels against his brothers.

  Faced with the choice of destroying him or the extinction of the angels, God agrees to a truce. To end the war He grudgingly accepts Lucifer’s demand that they must contest the soul of every man.

  Through His love for man God bestowed on him the power of free will and the ability to choose his own path. On those terms Lucifer accepts that he cannot physically interfere in the life of any man or woman, but that he can use any of his powers of suggestion and persuasion to influence his mind. Ultimately, the final choice for his destiny would be man’s and man’s alone. Should Lucifer control more souls than God at any time then he can return again to Heaven and cast He and his brothers out and signal the end for all mankind.

  God hands Michael greater powers and appoints him the Protector of Heaven, as His warrior Archangel.

  Lucifer uses his great cunning to turn man away from God. Seeing how easily man turns his back on Him, God destroys the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah in anger. He sends His prophets one after another to bring man back to the path of righteousness, but it is only delaying the inevitable. In one last attempt to save mankind and prevent Lucifer’s return to Heaven, God gives to the world His son made man, Jesus Christ.

  In giving His life on the Cross, Jesus wipes away man’s sins. In one deft stroke He undoes all of Lucifer’s hard work. The Crucifixion stands as God’s great victory over him. Before departing the earth, Jesus gives to Peter the authority to build His church. The Catholic Church breathes life on that very day in Jerusalem to stand as a constant reminder of God’s great victory.

  In the aftermath of the Battle of Varna in 1444, Lucifer meets Michael on the desolate, ravaged battlefield. Michael reminds him of the great victory over him and of how the Catholic Church is representative of that. It gives Lucifer the determination to put into practice an idea he has harboured for over a millennium. He realises that if he can bring down the institution of the Catholic Church, then he can turn man against God once again.

  Lucifer seeks the perfect candidate to carry out this immense task. Though he has monitored many over the ravages of time, his need to find that special one has finally come to pass. He needs someone born into a world of strife. One who knows only great loss or betrayal from those he loves. One who is strong and unyielding and who can fight against insurmountable odds. One who can rise up above other men in a bitter world to take what is his.

  The religious strife in the world following the Crusades in the Holy Land gives him the opportunity he has waited for. With Saladin’s ultimate victory in Palestine, the spread of Islam continues on. The Ottoman Empire is born and presses on the borders of the eastern European states. It is here Lucifer knows he will find the one he seeks.

  And now he looks for the one he can manipulate into leading the cause of Christianity against the mighty Ottoman Turk. The one that he hopes will wade in blood for the righteous cause. He knows that in doing this his candidate will suffer the ultimate betrayal in his hour of death when he expects the angels to come and claim him. For it is only then that Lucifer can put his dastardly plan to work and conduct the fiendish experiment where he creates a monster that will bring down the last great icon of God.

  He chooses the twelve-year-old Vlad Dracula, whose progress he has followed from birth. Young Vlad is the son of the great Vlad Dracul, voivode of Wallachia. Imprisoned by the Turkish sultan, Murad II, Lucifer goes to the boy in a guise of a woman to set his plan in motion….

  Mary trembled and leaned into her friend for comfort. She watched the Roman soldier bring down the hammer once again. It clanged hard against the metal spike that nailed her son to his wooden cross. Those who stood around the hill closed their eyes and fell silent. The only sound they could hear above the strong breeze was the hammer and the cries of the three condemned men.

  “Come away, Mary,” John said to her.

  She resisted his attempts to spare her this torment. “No,” she said. “I cannot leave my son. If he can endure this, then so can I.”

  He held her tight when the sound of the hammer echoed again. “No mother should have to see this.”

  Mary pressed her head against his chest. She could no longer fight the tears. Her nails dug into his arms as she tried to find the strength to remain on her feet. “How can they do this to him?” she gasped. “He has harmed none of them.”

  Other friends of his lingered close by. They too shared in her pain. The torment of seeing the suffering of the one they so cherished was too much to bear. None of them could look, save one.

  “They are twisted and cruel,” another woman said. “That is how. They are less than men, and they shall burn for this. Little do they know, but their maker sees all.”

  John looked across to see Mary Magdalene there. If any of the others had heard her they
did not show it. She took one of Mary’s hands and held it tight within her own. All the time she kept her eyes trained straight ahead. She watched another of the Romans grab the feet of Mary’s son.

  He held them firm and tied them just above the ankles to the strong wooden beam. Then he drove a long ugly-looking spike into them too. A jet of blood shot up into his face. He wiped it away with his bare wrist before striking it a second time.

  Mary moved away from John and reached out with her free hand. “Jesus!” she cried, dropping to her knees.

  John did the same behind her and cradled her in his arms. She fell back against him, her anguish etched hard into her features. His friends all stood only a few feet away. They had to stand and watch the Romans nail the man they had followed to two pieces of wood. It was as much as some of them could stand. Luke and Mark surged forward to try and end this madness while they still could.

  Still the hammers drove the spikes in deeper. The soldiers hoisted up the two other condemned men for all to see. They had their legs broken for a quicker death. A scuffle broke out below them, which neither could hear nor see. The Roman guards acted fast and drove the onlookers back.

  The centurion walked over. He had a face as hard as the rest of his body. “Stay back!” he warned them. “Lest I shall have you all removed from this hill.”

  Tears filled the eyes of each of the men. There was nothing they could do. They stepped back knowing full well the officer meant what he had said.

  Mary’s son turned his head their way. His whole body trembled with shock. He sucked in a deep, but laboured breath. “Rest easy, mother. This shall all end soon.”

  She tried to offer him a smile. He was so brave. But she was still going to lose him, her sweet boy who had grown into the finest of all men. The reality of that ripped her heart in two. She fell forward with her face pressed down against the ground, sobbing long and hard.

  The others cried with her. They all loved him. Her son turned his head away again.

  He stiffened as the soldier struck the spike in his feet one last time, his eyes rolling up in his head. The pain covered every last inch of his broken body. A black wave passed over him though the agony of his wounds kept his eyes open. The agony of hands and feet nailed to the wood beneath him. Of ribs and a back that burned from flesh torn away by the spikes on a whip. His long hair was matted and thick with blood. It oozed from a crown of thorns the soldiers had driven into his scalp.

  His vision became a blur. Each time he tried to focus a jolt of pain passed through both his eyes. For a few moments he could not see. The dark blue of the afternoon sky turned grey and then black. He felt a sudden jolt as the soldiers began the task of hoisting him up. The spikes tugged hard at his hands and feet. Again it caused him to cry out, but the shock of it restored his vision once more.

  The outline of a helmet met his eyes. He turned them slowly to the see the image of a grinning Roman. The man said a few words in broken Aramaic. It was the latest of many insults, but he was long past caring about such things. All he knew was the agony that every laboured breath brought him. And it made him wish each one could be his last.

  An old man stood back from the crowd. Balthasar was one of three kings who had travelled to this land from Persia long ago. They bore gifts and came to pay homage to a newborn child. His had been myrrh. He felt it a small token for such a privilege. For he had gazed upon the one who would save mankind from himself.

  Thirty-three years had passed since then. A month ago he returned, though this time to Judea. Word had spread far and wide of an incredible young man. One who spoke of love and of forgiving your enemies. On his first visit he had used a bright star to guide him here. Now he needed only the hope that radiated from this man.

  Yet he felt only despair all around him. The anguish was clear from the crowd gathered there. For them, all sense of hope was fading fast. He did not need his eyes to see it. They had long since failed him. His ears told him all he needed to know. A great sadness filled him inside and yet he did not despair like the others. His vision extended well beyond theirs. He possessed the wisdom that this was only the beginning, not the end.

  The old man sensed the presence of another close by. Again he did not need his eyes to know who it was. The black aura was strong enough to anyone who had “the eye” for such things to see it.

  Lucifer knew the old king was aware of him, but he did not care. His eyes focused straight ahead on the lonely figure nailed to the Cross. Gasps rang out from the crowd as the soldiers stood the crucifix up. It sealed the fate of the young man hanging from it. There would be no reprieve now.

  He struggled against the spikes that held him there. The ropes around his shins and arms burned into his flesh. With both feet he pushed down so that his lungs could suck in some air. Had the Romans broken his legs he would not have been able to breathe. Death would have come quicker. But they did not want that for him. He would hang there until he no longer had enough blood in his veins to carry the oxygen to his brain.

  Balthasar could feel the hate coming from the Dark One. The man who hung from the Cross above them stood against all that he did. He knew this was the last thing Lucifer could have ever wanted. “You did not think he would do it, did you?”

  The Dark One ignored him. He rarely got involved with the mortals, unless to strike a deal or to claim a soul. His reason for being there was to try and put an end to the events before him. He did his utmost to make eye contact with the dying man, but he had no joy.

  The old man did not let it deter him. He knew God had blessed him with this gift for a reason. Perhaps it was for this moment. “So what shall you do? You are finished in the world of men. A bad memory that should soon be gone. A puff of dust to blow away in the wind.”

  He knew his words had struck a nerve. In giving his life, this young man stood to undo all the work of the Dark One. Lucifer knew it too.

  Some of the others glanced across at the old man. None of them knew him, but for one. Mary managed a faint trace of a smile. This man had brought gifts the night her son was born. He had aged much, but she knew who he was.

  Balthasar sensed that she had noticed him and bowed his head to acknowledge her. He could not even begin to imagine the pain she was going through, though his senses could feel it.

  One of the group thought he was speaking to the one they loved. He took offence at once to the words the old man spoke. “What are you saying you old fool! Do you even know who that is you are insulting?”

  Mary had to act when he broke from the rest. “Be still, Thomas. He is a friend.”

  Thomas gave the old man a steely look. He mumbled under his breath and joined the group once more.

  Balthasar stepped back a few paces, a little unnerved by the outburst. He hoped now he might be out of earshot of the rest.

  Lucifer knew the old man wanted to talk. He was none too keen though to engage with him. “Go away, blind man,” he warned, in a low growl.

  “Your threats are lost on me. I do not fear you.”

  “You do not want to incur my wrath.”

  “What would you do? My time is close at hand. You would only begin my journey to paradise sooner than I had hoped.”

  He knew Lucifer still had his eyes on the young man on the Cross. “I held him in my arms the night he was born. You can be sure I shall be with him after he leaves this world too. You are only here because he has undone all of your work. Yet you can do nothing to stop it.”

  “What would you know of it?”

  “I know enough. This is the end for you.”

  It was all the Dark One could do to contain the rage building inside. “You are beginning to vex me, old man. Move away from me before I send you on the journey you so desperately crave.”

  “As I said, I am going nowhere.”

  “I could rip him down from there any time I please.”

  “We both know that is not so. Or you would have done it.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”
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  “He is doing this of his own free will. Not even God can stop it. The truce you agreed renders you both powerless to stop this event. He shall die today, as a man.”

  The old man was right. Lucifer could not interfere with the free will of any man, least of all this one. If he did so then God would strike him down. He did not have the power to stand up to that. There was only one other thing he could do.

  He stepped closer to the crowd. His eyes remained fixed all the time on the one he loathed. “I can take away your pain,” he said. “Ask me to cut you down.”

  The young man did not look at him. He wanted it to end, but not that way. The pain of his ordeal was more than any man could endure. For a whole day the Romans had beaten him to a pulp. They had lashed him with the whip and driven a crown of thorns into his head. Then they nailed him to this Cross.

  He gritted his teeth to take another agonising breath. A loud gasp escaped his lips as he did so. There was not a part of him that did not hurt. His hands and feet had turned black both from the hammer and a lack of oxygen to them. Yet still they pained him. He could think of nothing better than for another to cut him down. But he had come too far for that. He had to see it through to the end.

  The battle for souls was running close. Lucifer had caught up fast in recent years. Man had turned bad and cared little for God. It left Him with no choice. He had to send a son to save this species He loved so much. Not a son He had crafted with His own hand, but one born of this earth, as a mortal man. It was His deep love of man that had started the first Great War. Too much had passed to let it all go. He could never allow Lucifer a route back to Heaven. To do so would signal the end for those He so cherished.

  “Let me spare you this torment. Ask me and I shall grant it to you.”

  “It is no use,” the old man said. “There is nothing you can do here.”