Cover of "PILATE: A Brutal Bible Tale"

Cover of PILATE: A Brutal Bible Tale


PILATE: A BRUTAL Bible Tale, Undiluted, foul and profane original in KINDLE format! Read PILATE in Print, or on Kindle and on the cheap.







Hellified PG-13 re-mix!!

“The Fall of a Blood Drinking Drug Dealer

” (PG-13 version)        


The runner ended his call and shoved the phone deep down in a pocket of his hoodie.

“I talked to his Second, Juan. He say Pilate gonna come now,” the boy warned the dirty cop. “And he gonna come hard.”

“Let him bring his ass down here,” bragged Theodosius, “save me a step. He’ll get what he’s come for, on the real. Meantime,” he continued, “Herod wants me to get hold of him. I’ll have my boys pay his lair a visit, see what we see.”

Pilate’s runner stood and waited. He felt regret for what he was doing, but what the hell, he thought. It’s a dog eat dog world, you know, and it’s better to get paid then to get dead.

“Where’s his hole at, where he lay?” Theodosius asked and the boy told him. “You sure it’s his?”

“Like I say, I followed the girl, Mary, this one time. She’s not too bright, this chick, she never even looked for a tail. I followed her and she led me to the old church. I have a feeling Pilate has other places where he stay, but that’s the only one I know of for sure.”

“Alright,” Theodosius said and peeled the boy off a few hundreds. “I want you to vanish for a week. Then you can come back and run for me.”

“A clocker?” the boy asked, disappointed, “still? What happened to a promotion, man? That’s what I expected.”

“To me, to my way of thinking, you ain’t done anything. You just jumped sides and dropped loyalty at the first chance you got.” He grabbed the boy by his shirtfront. “My offer’s the only one on the table right now, which makes it the best offer on the table. And that’s better than catching a bullet in the back of your head. Which is just what the vampire’s gonna do when he catches wind of this. So, concerning your short-term safety, hooking up with my crew is the only choice you have. Or am I wrong about that?”

He put his hands up in surrender. He quickly agreed with the logic as well as his terms of employment. His head started nodding so obsequious fast now that Theodosius thought the boy had a bobble spring in there.

“Good,” Theodosius said. He released the boy. “Now go, and don’t come back for a week.”

The runner nodded once and ran off. Theodosius watched him go. He was reveling in his new spirit of industry. He turned and went back to his crew, where he paused to rub his hands together in greedy anticipation.

This is going to be a night to remember,” he told them. They all agreed. Theodosius sent four of his big-ass, bad-ass dirty cops to the old church to see if they can locate the elusive blood drinking drug dealer. That Pilate was a specter. His exploits and ruthlessness were so ingrained and legendary in The Harbor, that Theodosius doubted very much he even existed. And if Pilate did exist, he’s sure the gruesome vampire tales were way overblown.

Theodosius and his crew already were accepted as replacements for Pilate’s people by the junkies that stood restless-waiting on the corner. The fiends lined up in a jumpy queue, anxious for their dinner. They didn’t care who fed them, as long as they got their Plata and got high on the quick. Or else the marching bugs will start running beneath their skin again, tickling and itching where not one of them can reach.

Theodosius smiled. Drugs were slung. Customers left happy while a seemingly endless wave of Plata fiends kept coming to the corner in a steady stream.

The sun slid silky toward the horizon.

Chapter One:

The insistent noise from the intercom burns a hole in my sleep. I press the button: “Trouble?” I ask through the hidden speaker.

“Yeah, Pilate,” my Second tells me, “Big trouble.” Juan relays what our runner just said.

“I’ll be right up,” I reply.

I release the intercom button and lay back on the bed. I am ravenous and beginning to get short-tempered because of it. I keep my eyes closed a little while longer, but the brief respite does not make me feel any better. Now I have to go to the spot to deal with this before I can feed. It’s been three days since I had last fed and that brings me right up to the edge.

I rise. My cold skin is nude and beginning to prickle with hunger, my normally absent breathing is making itself known.

I dress quickly and leave the vault where I sleep my protected sleep. I head upstairs to the kitchen and open the refrigerator door. Inside the freezer there are a few frozen I.V. packs of consolidated red blood cells. I put one in the microwave to defrost it. The blood is normally used between my twice-weekly feedings. But now I am forced to use it to stave off the need for fresh blood. Packed cells do carry some oxygen, but there is no significant amount attached to red blood cells in this form. It is the oxygen I so crave.

I park myself at a chair by the table. Juan comes in and sits with me. I remember the time Juan asked to be turned. I told him the truth. That there is no way to turn a human into a vampire, that vampires are born, not made.

Vampires all house an inherited recessive genome that will spell the end of the lineage unlucky enough to sprout a nosferatu. Vampires can’t reproduce. It’s nature’s way of not perpetuating a genetic mistake. Juan was greatly disappointed, as I recall. He wanted so bad to believe the mythos and legends. I, on the other hand, am quite glad the tales are fiction. The human herd would thin rather quickly if there were squads of vampires out there. Herod is trouble enough.

I put nasal prongs into my nose and turn the oxygen tank on. The microwave beeps. I retrieve the defrosted blood and tear open the package. I proceed to squeeze the warmish goo into my open mouth, swallowing all 500cc of the blood at once.

I concentrate on pulling in supplemental oxygen through my nose. What is efficient for humans; is woefully inadequate for vampires. The blood I consume and oxygen I inspire will increase my deficient oxygen levels a mere twenty percent. If I relax, this treatment’s enough to quench my need for fresh blood until the following day. Then I will have to feed. If I find myself under extended duress, my oxygen reserves will swiftly evaporate. This will leave me weak and vulnerable.

“I’m going to check it out,” I say at last. I was getting so very hungry. I turned the tank off and remove the nosepiece. “I’ll feed before my return.”

“Okay,” replies Juan. “Do you need us?”

“No,” I state and rise. “I’ll return soon enough and we’ll discuss what I find when I do. Mary will give me some rows and we’ll figure all this crazy shit out together.”

Juan nods, looking like he is feeling better with the return of our routine. We always discuss business while Mary gives my long hair some nice tight cornrows.

I study Juan’s face, sensing his concern. “I’ll bet it’s the quota,” Juan states. He looks up at me. He suggests, “Maybe we should cash some in, you know, catch us up with Herod. Get him off us for a while, give us time to figure this out; negotiate a different price or some of the other ideas we talked about.”

I have considered dipping, but I still must decline. I am stubborn about Herod’s quota demands. I feel that the hit Plata is taking should be shared by all in the organization, not dumped solely at our feet.

“Don’t worry,” I reply instead, “I’m sure it’s nothing, some sort of misunderstanding. We’re only, what – thirty grams short for this whole year? I sincerely doubt that we can get moved without notice, without a word over an ounce. What is it we push, forty-five, fifty zees a year? And Herod is getting pissed off over one?”

“Doesn’t seem likely,” agrees Juan.

“Anyways as long as it isn’t approved by Herod, his flunkies will see the light. I’ll bet they’s nothing more than a bunch of dumb cowboys playing dress-up. We shouldn’t worry about it too much. Herod will have to be a raving lunatic to bounce me. Look at how much money he gets from us,” I smile, “you’d think he’d be happy.”

I can feel from my tongue that my partially starved state is making the sharp fang tips poke out of my pink-gummed smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I repeat, then get up to leave.

Juan follows me down to the basement of our old abandoned church. This is the place were Mary, Juan and I call both home and work and have been doing so for going on five years now. Juan watches me as I leave out the back door. I turn to him, smile once. I easily leap over the tall property wall and then disappear into the mushrooming dusk. Ready for anything and down for whatever.

Pilate: A Brutal Bible Tale Steven Rage Reviewed by Ashley Merrill

Disgusting, horrific, but oddly gravitating, this story follows the betrayal of Jesus in the bible, but in a dark fashion. Portrayed in a dark, frightening place called the Harbor, this book is filled with vampires, drug lords and plata, an extremely addictive and destructive drug. The story goes step by step along similar lines of the bible story, starting with Jesus finding disciples, and encompassing a following of drug addicts that are now becoming clean. The men and vampires that base their lively hood on selling drugs to these now clean men, are angered at the fact that this holy women has such a strong pull on everyone. They will do whatever it takes to see that order is restored and that plata continues to overtake the residents of the Harbor ’ s lives. Lines such as, “ A plump grub dragged its bulk across the pupil of Herod ’ s eye. The grub disappeared around the curve, back into the dark side of the socket. The grub left a long snotty string of bloody excrement in its wake (p. 178), ” is enough to make even the strongest of stomachs curl. I asked myself many times why I continued to read the story, but found that the more disgusted I was, the more curious I was as to how far the author would take me. Steven Rage delves into the dark side of humanity. He reaches into the sick and twisted recesses of our brain and feeds it, even though we try and deny that we may actually enjoy reading what he is giving us. He does an amazing job at keeping the reader interested and repulsed. I had a permanent look of sordid wonder on my face throughout the entire story. He takes you through Jesus ’ betrayal and what happens to Judas as a result of the betrayal. This is a story that you do not want to miss. It is not for the faint of heart or for people that would be offended that this story was reshaped in such a ghastly way. I highly recommend this book to anyone who is in touch with their darker side and is willing to admit that we all crave the taboo and brutal side of humanity. It is a great story with a sick twist and is highly entertaining.