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Member No.: 36
Joined: 17-August 04
The rise of Dracula and his vampire hordes, their war against mankind.
The destruction of kingdoms and empires, the slaughter of millions.
It was all set in motion on a hill outside of Jerusalem, with the execution of a condemned charlatan and a lone man's act of desecration.
On a sunny day a short distance from the city wall of ancient Jerusalem is Golgotha Hill. A small crowd of weeping peasants have gathered at its base. On the hill itself is a horrific sight of inhumane execution. Each man is on a pair of beams arranged in a T shape, their wrists nailed to the horizontal beam and their feet nailed to the vertical.
Watching the sight are three Roman centurions. But they find nothing wrong with what they're seeing. Instead, they laugh and smile as they share wine amongst themselves. One of the centurions, slightly drunk, breaks away from the group. With a spear in hand he prods peasants with the blunt end, clearing a path as he ascends the hill.
There are three men crucified, but he heads for the one in the middle. The man's head hangs lifelessly and he's not moving. The bearded criminal is battered and mutilated beyond recognition, his face and hair caked in blood. The other two criminals have not received this special treatment. Also unlike them the middle criminal has a crudely constructed thorn of crowns atop his head. A sign is nailed to the top of his cross with Latin written on it - "Iesus Nazarenus, Rex Iudaeorum."
The centurion observes him for a moment, grinning as he tightens the grip on his spear and looks to the peasants.
CENTURION: "Here is your Messiah!"
The centurion thrusts his spear up, the tip plunging into the condemned man's side. The crucified man does not cry out or even move. He is dead. The only response is the wailing of the peasants.
The centurion rips the spear out of the corpse, his smile growing larger at the cheering encouragement of his fellow Romans. He gives the dead man one final look of disgust before turning around and walking away. But after a moment his steps slow until he comes to a halt. He tilts his head as he hears a noise and turns around.
From the wound blood flows, a trickle at first but it increases with each passing moment until it is a veritable stream gushing forth. But soon there is not just blood but a torrent of water flowing from the wound, inexplicably staying untainted as it and the blood splash onto the soil of the hill and flow down it in two different directions.
The centurion can only stare dumbfounded at the sight, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. While he stares there are concerned murmurs from behind him. He's too transfixed on the corpse to notice that on a cloudless midday the sky is rapidly darkening. Only when day has turned to night does he notice, his shock now turning to fear.
The centurion starts to take a nervous step back but as soon as his foot touches the ground the earth shakes. At first a slight tremor, soon followed by a violent earthquake with such ferocity it throws the off-balance centurion to the ground and sends him tumbling down the hill.
The peasants scatter and flee by the time he comes to a crashing halt. He clutches his spear tightly as the ground trembles horribly all around him. Tears well up in the man's eyes and he desperately scrambles to his feet, breaking out in a run to put as much distance between himself and the hill as possible.
A few moments pass and once the centurion is gone the tremors cease. Sunlight fights back the darkness and returns in full. Blood and water cease flowing.
A quiet hill with three executed men once more.
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