The Lycan Chronicles

by Schroeder, Brent

  “There is something unusual,” Croglin agreed, wiping his face. “Maybe you really are something other than human, but that no longer matters.”

  Croglin cut to the chase, as he picked at one of his fangs. “If you want to live, you must drink the blood of the sins of the living and find a place to sleep during the daylight hours. As the one you call Your Father, will not allow us to be graced by his sight and the sun will burn you to a pile of ashes… that was his wish.”

  Jesus let the words sink in and he instantly felt betrayal by his own Father. He bared his new fangs as one last tear fell from his face… and then, he was no longer the Healer of Life. He climbed up onto one of the thieves, who was hanging on one of the adjacent crosses and he bit deeply into his neck, draining him of what little blood he had left. Instantly, Jesus was already beginning to feel better and some of his strength had been returned. When he stepped back, he had to shield his eyes from the cross, as from that moment forward, no Vampire could look upon a holy cross, its wood also becoming a deadly poison.

  The Baron and Croglin turned to begin their journey back to Alnwick Castle, in England, without a single notion as to what the consequences of their actions would be… in due time, they’d eventually find out.

  Covered in a hooded robe, Jesus crept through the quiet, nighttime streets of Jerusalem, until he reached the home of one of his disciples: Judas. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. After a few moments of waiting, Jesus opened the door, but something was mysteriously keeping him from stepping inside.

  “Come out!” Jesus shouted into the air. “Come out, my old friend and see… I’m not dead! I have been brought back to life!”

  A moment passed… nothing.

  “Judas, come and see! I have been resurrected,” Jesus continued to call out.

  Finally, Judas came to the door, opening it. In complete disbelief, he fell to his knees and wrapped his hands around Jesus’ feet that were covered by the robe he was wearing, begging him for mercy.

  “I was weak and I betrayed you, Jesus! I am nothing! Please, grant me your forgiveness,” cried Judas through a fit of tears. “Please, forgive me.”

  “Come to your feet and follow me,” Jesus calmly instructed to him. “And say not another word.”

  Jesus stepped over to a post that was used to keep the mules secured and he untied some rope before they began walking together, unnoticed, through the streets of Jerusalem. They continued their way into the countryside and they stopped at the foot of a lone Ceris tree. With the full moon giving light to their surroundings, the landscape of Jerusalem could be seen glimmering in the distance; a beautiful city, that would go on to become one of the oldest cities in the world.

  “Judas, you have betrayed me,” Jesus said to him. “And for that, you must be punished,” he continued. “But, I will leave you with a choice… if you will take your own life, others will realize and understand what you have done and then you will be forgiven,” Christ explained, delivering his ultimatum. “Are you willing to take responsibility for your betrayal of the Son of God, Judas? This will be your only chance.”

  Jesus threw the rope over a low-hanging branch of the tree and he began to tie a hangman’s knot. He turned to Judas, letting his robe fall to the ground, revealing his healed, naked body. Not a single whip mark could be seen and the gashes in his hands and feet have completely disappeared.

  Judas couldn’t believe his eyes and he knew for sure, that this truly was the Son of God. He reached his hand out to feel Jesus’ side, where the wound from the Spear of Destiny once was and he touched where the thorns were stuck into his head, now completely healed. Falling to his knees, Judas looked up to the noose that was swaying from Jesus’ hand and he placed the rope around his own neck, as tears streamed down his face.

  “Please, forgive me Lord, for I have sinned against your only Son,” Judas prayed, with his eyes closed and his face to the sky. He looked back up to Jesus, who was looking back and staring deeply into his eyes.

  “If he doesn’t answer the prayers of his only Son,” Jesus snarled. “Why would he answer yours?”

  And with that, Jesus tied the rope off and yanked it with an otherworldly strength, instantly snapping Judas’ neck. The crunch echoed throughout the valley, as the supreme traitor twitched for a few moments, his body swaying from the thick tree branch. As he convulsed, coins began to trickle from his pockets and they rolled to a stop, underneath his dangling feet.

  Jesus looked down at the coins staring back at him and he began shuffling around them with his feet. He knelt down and counted them; thirty pieces of silver. He tried picking them up, but the silver coins, that now represented betrayal, burned his flesh at the touch of his hands. Jesus left coins where they were, as silver had become deadly to anything supernatural and he took one last look at the man who had betrayed him. Satisfied, he picked up his robe from the sand and he put it back on, pulling the hood up over his head, before disappearing into the night in search of a resting place, before the morning sun would show itself.

  Four white horses entered the Alnwick Castle courtyard pulling a lavish wooden carriage and they came to a halt at the steps of the grand staircase leading up to the massive, wooden double-doors. A most dapper-looking figure stepped out with long, dark flowing hair, brushing back the locks to keep them from blocking his view. He looked up to the castle, as he moved up the steps to the huge doors, with his cape following closely behind. This visitor was a threethousand-year-old Vampire and he answered only to the one who called himself the Baron… this Vampire’s name is Croglin Grange.

  Moving up the steps with swift strides, Croglin passed by the guards, who stood protecting the entrance near the tall, wooden doors. He pushed through and entered the old castle, heading for the Baron’s inner chambers as the torches provided light down the stretching hallways. Mice scurried out of his way and the black widows took defense in their webs recognizing the threat that was walking the halls before them.

  Croglin opened the chamber doors leading into the Baron’s quarters and he stepped inside. The room was filled with youthful, half-naked males and females and they looked up with hopelessness in their eyes, as he stepped by, no one knowing how much time they had left to live.

  The Baron was perched at the top of his throne, at the end of a thick red carpet that curled up the steps leading to where he sat. Croglin came to a stop at his feet, taking a bow to show his loyalty to his master.

  “I came, as quickly as I could,” Croglin proclaimed, straightening back up as he spoke. “What does my lord wish of me?”

  The Baron grinned; he was pleased. “I want you to travel to the new world and begin the start of a new covenant,” he said slowly. “I feel the time has come to expand my empire across the waters.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Croglin replied without hesitation.

  “You will leave immediately,” said the Baron, wasting no time. “The war will provide you with enough ships to stow aboard,” he said. “And, how is the search for my book coming along?”

  “Nothing, yet,” Croglin replied, looking to the floor. “It has been many centuries. I’m afraid that it might be lost forever,” he carefully said. “I wish I had better news for you.”

  “Nonsense! I want that fucking book!” the Baron interrupted, slamming his fist on the arm of his chair. “Keep looking!” he continued to shout. “We know enough, that can figure out where it was hidden! Hire an army of men… dig along the entire Dead Sea if you have to!” the Baron yelled. “It has to be there somewhere, just find it!”

  “Consider it done,” Croglin replied, looking to the Baron’s stonecold face.

  The Baron kicked the woman who was chained at his feet and he tossed her leash over to Croglin; he caught it with his right hand and wrapped it around his fist.

  “I find that it’s best to take provisions,” the Baron said, his mouth forming into a wicked smirk. “It would be inconvenient for the ship’s crew to catch you feeding upon one of their ow
n. Plus, I find her attitude appalling and she has begun to bore me.”

  The girl knew better than to respond… or even try to make eye contact.

  “Thank you, my lord,” Croglin expressed his gratitude, tilting his head forward. “I am confident that she will bring me great delight.” And with that, he pulled the girl by the chain and he left the Baron’s chambers.

  Croglin walked down the corridor leading to an open room, where several long hallways stretched, as far as the dim light would allow the eye to see and a servant stood awaiting his orders.

  “Refresh my carriage with anything it may need and do it quickly,” Croglin demanded, as he proceeded down the main hall.

  The servant moved fast, running ahead to complete his task, while Croglin waited. A short while later, after the servant had disappeared up the steps and back into the castle, Croglin climbed into his carriage with his new slave securing her to her seat.

  “Coachman, take us to the docks and make it snappy,” Croglin barked, knowing there were only five, precious hours left before sunrise.

  “Yes, sir, right away.”

  After a few hours of traveling, the carriage came to a stop at a set of docks where a ship waited at the end of one of the piers and Croglin stepped out, pulling his slave closely behind. The air was frigid and the wetness created a thick fog masking the sheer size of the vessel. The smell of dead fish hung in the air and the ships wooden planks were covered in mildew from the salty ocean water. The ship held the look of many ages, as it swayed gently in the water and barnacles clung to the side of the ship like an outer skin.

  Croglin yanked on the girl’s chain, as they approached the ship. “Come!” he ordered her. “And, stop lagging… you’re making me angry!”

  A man walked forward on the dimly lit dock, greeting Croglin at the end of the pier. Even with the mix of rot and dead fish in the air, the shipmate’s odor was overpowering. Who knew, when the last time he’d washed with fresh, clean water, Croglin wondered.

  “Do you have the money?” the shipmate asked, without skipping a beat.

  “Yes,” Croglin answered. “Here’s the gold you requested.”

  “That’s good,” the shipmate responded. “But, I have a bit of troubling news, I’m afraid. The price has gone up a bit.”

  As the man was speaking, Croglin noticed another man approaching from the ship, holding a fishing hook in his hands. But, Croglin couldn’t care any less and without warning, he let his deadly, Vampire nails spring out. He ripped into the shipmate’s chest and yanked out his beating heart, showing it to him, before the man fell to the ground. Smiling, Croglin just casually kicked the body into the water and he threw the dead man’s heart in after him. He then turned to the observing shipmate, who’d stopped cold in his tracks.

  “Is this enough gold for you?” Croglin asked, handing him the bag of coins.

  “Welcome aboard,” said the shipmate, standing frozen, wide-eyed and expressionless.

  “Great,” Croglin said back. “Carry those sacks of dirt with you onto the ship, if you would, please.”

  Croglin and his slave girl were led to shelter, deep in the ship’s hull, where sunlight would never enter. When the arrived, someone was already down there: her neck, barely conscience, chained a black girl and her. She was a runaway slave, who’d had been caught hiding on the ship and she had been badly beaten and raped by the ship’s crew of drunken soldiers, during their last trip.

  “Make sure that no one bothers us, while we are here,” Croglin said, with a lifted eyebrow.

  “Yes, sir, no one will come down here,” the shipmate insisted, lighting the way with a small torch.

  Croglin chained his slave girl next to the captive and he closed the iron door behind the shipmate, leaving them alone in total darkness. Croglin had no problems seeing, as he opened a few sacks of English soil, throwing the chunks of soft dirt to the floor. He unchained his slave girl and shoved her to the dirt, lying beside her and clutching her frightened, quivering body. Then he closed his eyes and whispered into the girl’s ear, “Go to sleep, my sweet… go to sleep.”

  ___________________________________________________

  Chapter Three

  Croglin and his slave girl slept as the ship rocked with the waves, slowly making their way across the ocean in the late hours of the night. The hull where they laid had never seen a ray of sunlight; the air was thick with the stench of mold and mildew and rat droppings littered the floor. But it was the safest place, hidden far away from the sunlight that was about to break the following morning.

  The stowaway’s sleep was abruptly ended, when four drunken sailors burst into the room. The sailors knew the young black girl was being kept in the lower quarters of the ship and the shipmate on watch had walked off duty to get a drink somewhere on the other end of the ship. They had finally found the room where she had been chained, but before a single man could speak, Croglin was up and moving, so fast that all four of the sailor’s heads were sliced off, before the first body had time to hit the floor; the men never even had a chance to realize the mistake they’d made.

  With pure delight, Croglin fed upon the sailor’s dead bodies, before they had the chance to go cold, sucking as much blood from them as he could handle. By the time he was finished, Croglin realized that it was too close to dawn, deciding to wait before throwing the bodies overboard to the sharks that were following closely behind the ship. The other sailors wouldn’t notice a couple missing crewmembers right away, Croglin hoped, as he laid back down next to his slave girl for some more rest.

  When the right time came the following night, Croglin carefully disposed of the remains, sneaking each one of the sailor’s bodies out from the ship’s hull. After the last corpse had been dumped into the water, Croglin stopped for a moment to enjoy the view of the vast ocean. As he stood there, a man walked up from behind, jamming a gun into his back.

  “Who and what are you doing out here?” demanded the armed deckhand. “And what did you just dump overboard?”

  “Here, let me show you,” Croglin answered him. “And with that, he spun around and threw the man to the deck, grabbing him by his head and ripping into his neck, biting with his razor-sharp fangs.

  Croglin sucked as much blood from him as time would allow, before throwing his victim overboard; he wanted to suck more, but that would leave him a much greater chance of being discovered.

  “Does that answer your question?” Croglin asked, wiping the blood away from his lips.

  The journey across the ocean continued on for weeks and on the last night of their voyage, Croglin heard rumors circulating the boat… that they’ve finally arrived at their destination, but would not be hitting landfall until the following morning. Since it was too dangerous to dock the ship in the dark, they anchored down just a few miles offshore and Croglin went back down to lie with his slave girl, gently stroking her hair and brushing her face. Just a few feet away from them, the black slave girl remained completely still. She didn’t move because she was dead, completely drained of all her blood and her body was already beginning to rot. The rats were already gnawing away on her lifeless corpse and Croglin found this quite amusing, distracting him away from his own slave. He quickly turned his attention back to the lovely girl, saying to her, “I will miss you, my dear, but your journey has come to an end.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing what was next to come.

  Croglin stroked her hair away from her neck and he clamped down with his fangs, draining the life from her body. He felt a moment of remorse, looking down at her, realizing how beautiful she was. But that spark soon faded, as he shook off the feeling… if not a resurrected family member, mankind was to be nothing but cattle, to him and his kind.

  Making his way to the ship’s deck, Croglin looked out to the distance, seeing that land was only a short way off. He took off his shirt and let his broad Vampire wings unfold, before taking flight into the night sky, towards the dry land. As if they didn’t have enough to deal
with already, Croglin had finally arrived to the shores of America… the very first Vampire from Europe.

  Chapter Four

  Croglin Grange walked the shoreline in the moonlight, his long hair the only thing covering his naked body as he looked out to the anchored ships, one last time. He grabbed a shovel from a local farmhouse, along with some fresh clothes from a laundry line and he made his way north to the middle of a thick forest. Sensing that the sun was about to rise, Croglin moved quickly, digging a hole in the ground. When he was finished, he laid in it covering himself with the mound of loose dirt he’d dug up. After he was buried, Croglin closed his eyes and rested for the day, dreaming of what his next course of action would be.

  The next morning, the sailors who were unloading the ship began to discover that some of their crew was missing and they searched the entire ship, looking for any clues to their whereabouts. They finally arrived to the door that led down into the hull, where Croglin had spent his journey and they stumbled upon two dead female bodies, stacked neatly behind some rotting wooden crates, covered in rats that were feasting away on their mangled corpses. The shipmate who knew about Croglin said nothing, knowing that he would be hung from the gallows, if they found out that he helped a murderer cross the Atlantic Ocean.

  The ship’s holy man was summoned to bless the dead bodies and he began the girls’ final rites. As the priest was saying a prayer, he looked and noticed something odd about the girl’s neck and he bent down to take a closer glimpse, realizing right away what he was looking at; he’d seen this before in England, but never in America. America already had their own monsters of the night, known to the Native America Indians as shape-shifters.

  The priest stood up and shook his head in disbelief, at his newfound discovery. “We have brought a Vampire to the new world,” the priest announced with the sound of dread in his voice. “May God have mercy on our souls.”

  The priest contacted the ship’s commander, to let him know of his findings.