* * *
Over the next weeks, Jesus Christ, together with the Magdalene, exacted his bitter vengeance upon his tormentors, murdering most of the enemies who had sent him to the cross.
Pharisee Annas was taken in the courtyard of his home one evening with his wife and adult eldest son, their bloodless bodies strewn about the house, the pious Pharisee’s corpse dumped headfirst by Jesus into the family latrine pit.
He was a hypocritical piece of shit, at least he’s where he belongs, lying in a pile of excrement, thought a smiling Jesus, strolling from the latrine, heading across the courtyard and joining Mary in the house.
“Did you get him?” asked Mary, crouching in a hallway, wiping the blood of the priest’s wife from her lips.
“Yeah, I dumped his ass in the shitter,” Jesus answered, staring at a plate of love offerings on a table, silver shekels taken from the Temple.
“You're a mean one,” said Mary.
“You’d better believe it, when it comes to my enemies,” Jesus replied, still looking at the coins.
“What are you staring at?” Mary asked, noting her consort’s unremitting gaze.
“The shekels, since there’s no one here we may as well take them,” said Jesus, intent on stealing them.
“Why not, those bastards owe you something for what they did to you,” the Magdalene agreed. She gathered up the coins in a leather bag and the couple left the ostentatious residence. Heading to a seedier section of Jerusalem, she asked, “What do we do now?” Sodden drunks, passed out in gutters, and a few unclaimed whores surrounded them.
“Who knows, let’s uh, live the night as it comes,” said Jesus while they strolled the worn cobblestones, an arm around her waist. Finding another enemy an hour later, not even the murderer Jesus Barabbas could escape the vampiric Christ’s unbridled wrath, taken in an alley by the vicious Magdalene. The only notable exceptions to the carnage were Sadducee Joseph Caiaphas and Pharisee Saul of Tarsus, later known as Paul, who had fled to coastal Caesarea, and Decius the centurion, the Roman soldier Jesus had freed from his vengeance.
Jerusalem was becoming a hotbed of panic, especially when a Greek physician named Thucydides of Delos determined that a vampire had caused the unexplained deaths. Bite marks found on the throats of Pontius Pilate, the High Priests and the Roman soldiers had proven this conclusively. The only thing these men had in common was their condemnation of the Son of Man, Jesus Christ.
For this pronouncement, Thucydides was called before the acting procurator of Judea, centurion Flavius Maximus. Shown into Pilate’s former residence by a legionary guard, the doctor told the acting procurator of his theories regarding the deaths.
“Come on doctor, that’s ridiculous, these are modern times, vampires?” Flavius asked, relaxing on a couch during the cool early evening.
“It can only be that,” the doctor declared in a pompous tone of voice, “My examinations of the victims proves this, each had bite marks on their throats, and when I opened the great artery in their necks nothing issued, the blood was gone from their bodies!”
“Vampires are a myth.”
“They are a fact. In the past, vampires walked unchallenged about Greece; it has been proven by Plato, Aristotle and Herodotus, along with a Greek historian ancestor of mine, also named Thucydides.”
“Really doctor,” said an unbelieving Flavius.
“What I’m saying is true,” said Thucydides, “Herodotus referred to them in his encyclopedic texts. He wrote the vampires of Athens were banished by Pericles, who after their defense of Athens, gave them freedom to maraud unchecked over the rest of Greece, killing any and all enemies of the Athenians.”
“Such writings are rubbish, myths and fairy tales.”
“No they’re not; the vampires are now in Jerusalem, among us, in our midst. The one called Jesus the Christ vanished from his tomb a few weeks ago, together with a woman who knew him called Mary the Magdalene,” Thucydides replied in an excited tone of voice.
“What does that prove?” asked Flavius, rising from the couch in indignation, “Jesus, ‘King of the Jews’, was crucified and died on the cross weeks ago! Mary the Magdalene was known by many to be a common whore, selling her ass to anyone who’d pay for her favors. The slut was probably killed by one of her clients, it happens all the time!”
“His body vanished from the grave on the third day.”
“So what, his followers stole the body of that mad rabbi!”
“Not true,” said Thucydides, “Gaius Plinius Celer of Como was told by the disciple Thomas of Capernaum that Jesus appeared on the Sunday after his crucifixion, and that Thomas, frightened, suspected from his behavior he had returned as a vampire. Thomas is not rumored to be a stupid man, and it’s said he left in fear of the Christ for Illyria. Also, the pimp Cassius stated that he saw Jesus and the Magdalene at his brothel on the following day, looking for Judas Iscariot, and afterward a whore named Adria was found dead in her room, emptied of blood.”
“Who’s Judas, the village idiot?” asked a smirking Flavius.
“No procurator, he was the man that betrayed Jesus to another man named Joseph Caiaphas; Judas was one of his disciples,” the doctor answered, as if scoring a point in debate.
“Really,” said Flavius, staring at Thucydides, scratching an itch on his forehead, vainly wishing that someone else had the job of acting procurator
“His body was found mutilated at the bottom of a cliff, drained of all blood, near the cemetery where Jesus was interred after he was executed. Further, ever since this Jesus fellow was crucified and disappeared from his tomb, the bodies of his enemies have been showing up all over the place, emptied of blood.”
Flavius frowned, conceding defeat. “I understand good doctor, judging from what you’ve told me, nothing else fits. Though I’ve always doubted their existence, I now agree, perhaps it could be a vampire.”
“It is, it’s the man called Jesus of Nazareth, who claimed he was the Christ: he has resurrected from the dead, and he’s the vampire who did this!” said Thucydides with firm resolve.
“So you think it’s Jesus?” asked Flavius, sitting down on the couch and resting his head on an upright arm.
“Yes, he’s risen as a vampire.”
“We’ll have to find him before he kills half of Jerusalem in his thirst for blood.”
“We may find him procurator, but if Jesus is a vampire he will prove difficult to destroy.”
“Ha!” retorted Flavius, “I’ll have him bound in chains and brought to Rome to fight to the death in the Circus Maximus!”
“It’s not that simple, for the term death doesn’t even apply in these cases, this vampire Jesus is not truly alive, nor dead, he is undead.”
“Undead, what’s that?” asked Flavius, leaning forward, confused by the unfamiliar term.
“None of us really know. Though it may sound contradictory, the best explanation for such a condition would be the ‘living dead’. This is a very serious situation sir, and if Jesus has in fact become a vampire, normal weapons will not work against him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Jesus, if he has become a vampire, is endowed with great powers we cannot understand, and if we can even confront him, he will be as if almost a god,” said Thucydides with envious resignation.
“What God?” said a frowning Flavius, sinking back in the couch.