Thy Sweet Blood
I have no age... though I've lived for many, many years. Well, to live is not precisely the most fitting word. I have existed.
Since the very conception of the world, on the sixth day, to the image and likeness of God, I was created. Formed to make man's companion, The Creator erred in his supposition, thinking of me as an ideal wife. But I'm no man's wife. I am my own.
After being expelled from Paradise, I was blatantly degraded to a "fallen one" status. Without having lost any war, if anything, I've won my first little feminist battle since submissiveness has never been my nickname... Consequently, I played my cards and tricked God's most beloved creature. To Satan is all credit while he wasn't even there. It was me, Lilith, who seduced both Eve and Adam and there was no other forbidden fruit than the lusciousness in my womb.
For millennia Earth has become my kingdom, as a princess I am. To me has been bestowed the power that held the thrones of many kings from Persia to Macedonia, in better times and I've done as I wished. I've always had my ways.
I recall a very special occasion, in fact, the most special occasion of them all. It was the day I became the true queen of the human world. It was year thirty-three of the modern era, and to be honest I had never paid attention as for the days passed by, or the years were being marked, or how the months were named until my brother was born... half brother, I must say.
As an immortal being, events and dates had been meaningless to me, as I had always done what I wanted and had a feast every time I wished for. Nevertheless, as this prophecy had spread through oral tradition since the times of King David, about this child, a virgin, and a star... It cracked me up. Hebrew imagination has always been so prolific, but in the end, it was true. The Savior was born.
I admit no competition and it's fun how for the first time my own birthday, if I can call it that way, really mattered to me. I wanted it to be a special event, a huge celebration, and as I have said, I always find my ways. So, after thirty-three years since my brother was born, I had my own birthday party, the best of all. One that humanity would never forget.
Everything was set at my fiance's mansion in Judea, on the sixth of Nisan, the day allegedly I was created according to those who know the stars and the seasons better than I do. Even though Pontius Pilate was not a king as I was accustomed, nothing less I deserved, he served well for my purposes. I tried Herod before. A man fond of blood as I was, but not so of women, hence I failed in my attempt at being Galilee's queen. Such a pity, a sadist king like him is always a winner. All in all, the governor and the so self acclaimed king were friends. So I asked for a crucifixion in my honor and a crucifixion I've got. A very easy petition, considering it was the tetrarch's hobby. I only gave Herod an excuse to have another one. Blood would be spilled that day, and blood is what I love the most.
At the piazza, in front of Pontius mansion, the enraged multitude gathered to the hearing of my brother's trial. Both Herod and Pilate had played their roles so well. We laughed at the Hebrew's short memory. How could it be? It had been only thirty years since the Massacre of the Innocents by the same Herod's as the prophecy, the same prophecy that claimed the birth of their Messiah and still His own people brought him and declared guilty of conspiracy. Humankind has always impressed me to the worst.
From a corner, I stared at my brother. His blood smelled so rich and sweet, so pure, like no other human, because he was more than a human, the son of the same God that created me. The inebriating aroma filled the room sticking to my nose with the solidness of iron and made my mouth water to the sweetness of the life elixir. Restraining myself from pouncing on him, I covered my mouth and nose with my veil. Still, his divinity and the essence of his holy blood prickled on my skin like needles. I cornered myself into the shadows, grinding my teeth to hold back my thirst. An aching dryness choked me with despair. It was not the place or the time, yet.
Another man was hauled into the terrace, ankles and wrists tied. Guilt and evilness adhered to this hideous man's skin like sweat while blood boiled through his veins mixed with cheap cider and mead.
"Which one of these men do you want to be freed, Jesus or Barabbas?" Pilate asked the mob.
"Give us Barabbas! Give us Barabbas!" Cried the crowd.
Veering, Pilate darted at me, curving the corner of his thin lips with mischief. Satisfied, my red eyes gleamed amidst the dimness at him.
"Crucify him!" The multitude demanded.
"But why? What evil has he done?" The governor, wisely replied, playing the benevolent ruler's role.
The crowd kept shouting, "Crucify him!"
"This is your man", Pilate shrugged, pointing at Jesus, then he washed his hands in front of the multitude. In the end it was not on his hands Christ's death to befall. It was in His own people, as the prophecy stated. "Quod scripsi, scripsi", the governor mumbled as he signed the crucifixion decree, and Jesus was taken out of the Terrace.
"Veronica", I spoke to my servant. "Take Barabbas with you. Please make him take a bath... and call for me when dinner's ready." Smirking, I told the young maid, her lips shaped halfway up with complicity.
"You will have your crucifixion my dear", Grabbing my waist, Pilate whispered to my ear.
"And so you'll be rewarded, my love", turning on my heels, I kissed the man. Holding hand, he followed me to his chambers.
Sex is always a cheap price to pay, the easiest way to win a war, sign a treaty, trade a land or put a crown on your head; to make your enemies die, including any son-of-God-half-brother. It was never on my hands, it was forbidden. Both a legion of angels and demons arrived to the city to do their part, nonetheless, the act was the last chance for human redemption and free will was never to be interfered with by any means. Even Satan had his opportunity a few days ago as he came to tempt Christ, but the divine part in us always overpower the mundane one. In the end, the martyr of my brother and his self sacrifice granted me the kingdom of Earth for a few more millennia, the best birthday present.
Having finished with Pilate, I left the room a little weary, tired of containing myself of drinking my brother's blood when he was brought to trial, and the ardent intercourse drained me a little more, but dinner awaited for me at my chambers.
When I entered the room, as I expected, Veronica was doing her job well. She moved with rhythmical cadence on top of Barabbas while both lied completely naked on the floor bed and the scene not only delighted my wrecked senses, but also revived my thirst... Yes, dinner was served.
A wicked grin grew on the man's face when he saw me walking in. In the same time a welcoming smile drew on Veronica's rosy lips as she moved asides. Still in the floor, Barabbas turned on his sides, his depraved eyes tearing my clothes off insidiously. Rolling up my skirts I took my turn and climbed on top of the bandit who shivered of excitement to see me leaning down. Soon the smile on his face was replaced with terror when he saw the fangs protruding out my mouth.
Imprisoning the man with me legs, I plunged my hand to Barabbas throat to choke him. His face reddened while he desperately gasped for air. Trying in vain to fight back, he moved his arms, in a failed attempt to push me back. He had no way out and I dug my index nail into the skin of his chest and cut through. Veronica licked her lips as blood gushed out the man's open wound and both of us fed on Barabbas until we dried him up to death.
A few minutes after, two male servants dragged Barabbas' lifeless body out my chambers. Staring out the window at the multitude filing upwards the road to the Golgotha, the hill where the crucifixion was to be held, I wiped the last traces of blood on my lips with my fingers. The first group of people, the ones closer to the three men carrying on shoulders the heavy wooden beams, the same in which they would be crucified, shouted blasphemies to the last one of the miserables, Jesus Christ. While on the rear, a group of women bawled.
Covering her head with a white veil, Veronica hurried up the street to blend into the raging crowd. I have to admit that it moved me. Despite of being myself a vessel of evil, the heaviness in the air, the amount iniquity suffocated me. It was as if all trace of wickedness on Earth had been poured onto Jesus. But in the end it had nothing to do with me and if that was God's twisted will, to sacrifice his own son, that was not my problem. Not all, even more when it only brought profits to me.
An hour later, while I sat on a bench at the courtroom, all of a sudden the sky, a sky that a second ago was clear, was veiled by thick and dark clouds.
"It has begun." I whispered to myself as I walked outwards the courtyard. Like me, everyone stared bewildered at the red circle forming around the sun.
"God has spoken, Jesus was indeed God's son!" One of Pilate's counselors cried, standing next to me, looking perplexed how the golden orb was swallowed completely by the shadows. And the day turned into night that noon.
A strong and cold breeze gusted, flapping the trees around us and making the leaves to swirl up into the air. The ground trembling below our feet made everyone run away in screams. Amidst the scampering servants, I sauntered towards the archway on the first level. Outside, demons guffawed with joy while angels wept and mourned.
I was by myself in the backyard when the floor stopped shaking and the skies cleared up. The wind ceased to blow and the silence was deafening. "It's finally done... alea iacta est", I whispered.
"Mistress Lilith", Veronica arrived. "I brought what you asked for", she spread in hands the bundle of stained white cloth she carried in arms. As it stretched open, it revealed a perfect human face imprinted on it in dirt, sweat and blood.
The air filled with the sweetest aroma emanating from the cloth. "You've done well. Now I've received the perfect birthday present."
The End
This story was written for the WattVampires and the CoffeeCommunity contest #ManyBloodyReturns in which you had to write a 2.5k word limit story having vampires and birthdays on it. I hope you enjoy this twisted version of the Passion of the Christ.