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The Chronicles of Good and Evil:

The Darkest Tower/Draculas Lair

BY: Christopher David Murphy

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Table of Contents
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Dedication

Preface... 7

Introduction

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

The Day Of Tears.. 9 The Day Of Joys.. 14 Daniel Begins His Journey. 20 The Birth Of An Archangel.. .. 40

Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The Anointing . 47 Daniel Disobeys ..... 57 The Day Of Spring / A Mothers Tear...70 The Dawn Of Knowledge And Spirit .. 82 Demons Of The Doom ... 96

Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

The Aftermath Of Horror 106

Chapter 11

Victory Turns Into Escape 113

Draculas Den..119

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

A Loving Counsel / The Birth - First Armageddon128

Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

The Curse Of An Angel / The Proposal143 The Turkish Emissary / Draculas Rage..152

Daniels Den 158 The Evening Dawns A New Trial 172

Chapter 17 Chapter 18

The Sanctuary Of Curtea De Arges. 180

Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21

In Search Of Our Friends...193 The Flight Of An Arrow... .198

The Prowl Of Evil.. 212 The Carnage At Curtea De Arges..217 The Eye Of Treason Has No Tears... 231

Chapter 22 Chapter 23

The Irish Assault.239

Chapter 24

Chapter 25 Chapter 26

Night Attack 245 Reunited... 256

Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29

The Bog Of The Unknown..268 The Garden Of Pace And Bucurie.273

The Dawn Into Darkness.. 284 An Angel Cometh / Secrets In the Night. 291

Chapter 30 Chapter 31

Courage In Sacrifice.. 299

Chapter 32
Temptation.308

Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35

The Rebirth Of An Angel..315 Into The Depths Of Faith.321

Life And Transfiguration. 329 The Search For That Bridge Into Tomorrow. 339

Chapter 36 Chapter 37

A Call For Freedom 344

The Day Of Resurrection...351

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Chapter 38

Chapter 39

The Flaming Sword 370 I Am The Light Of The World..379

Chapter 40 Chapter 41

You Will Wait For Me.. 388 The Collision Between Good And Evil.. 396

Chapter 42 Chapter 43

Seven Days Of Terror 407 An Apocalypse For A New World.. 436

Chapter 44 Chapter 45

Draculas Final stand 445 Into the Shadows Of Night.. 451

Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49

The Price Of Freedom / A Journey To A New Life.465 Where Love Abides 480 Goodbye Is Not Forever 486

Contact Information629 Preview: When Tomorrow Never Comes..630 Preview: A Diarys House. ..630
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Author Biography.631

Chapter 1
The Day Of Tears.
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Daniel is dead. We have well established this fact. The matter is more of a tragic event because his life was so short indeed: all of one day. Nothing more that would give us pause to remember his history or his tradition; there is none. It is the year of our Lord 1451 in the southwest lands of McCarthy, in a little known, small village upon the bottom cup of Ireland; and held in Irish lordship and sway for as much time as one can remember, and even beyond. The Irish and English have been in constant conflict for nearly three hundred years to this day. But there is no direct distinction with this date or a time within history. But no matter; fate has cursed the most innocent of souls and there is indecency within this mere conclusion. Yet as articles of Truth and recording goes, Daniel met with tragic end much the same. Yet you might wish to know his conclusion and what brought about such a state as this. All who were there are of the similar influence. The land was not barren, but of green grasslands and long, rolling hills. You could hear the swatch of sheep roam the upper regions with somber grazing and variable calls. The land itself seemed to sit in the pit and palm of Heaven, and so bask in equal tranquility as its holy counterpart. But there was nothing to the measure of peace for Daniels family. The parents had long-endured hardship working the lands such lords required of them; and to remain as keeper and custodian upon these fields and livestock. Not to work the lands would mean sudden expulsion and homelessness. Such a joy, seven months prior, to have been so informed they were to be blessed with a third child; perhaps another son to assist their father in working the fields and
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livestock. John and Mary Mulligan had sought the refuge of such happiness. Every day seemed like a concurrence joy from the previous one. And as time brought her closer to the moment of Daniels birth, the hope of all eternity appeared to cast their hardships away and give them more than what was required of them. Still, the moment in time came. It was in the evening hours when Mary felt something not to the norm. Contractions became quickly to persist and a hurried physician and mid-maid were called upon. The tragic sum of events brought about a horrific night as Mary agonized through. And though, as such remedy as a physician and his assistant can render, it could not be served to save young Daniel from this inevitable end. Daniel was breached and quickly turned, yet the delivery was harsh and difficult, and upon his arrival it was quickly determined he was still; quite still. As the joy of birth should normally follow; as quickly as the mourning were to ensue. Mary held to her lifeless child and in turn, so too did John. It was said the sadness inscribed upon their expressions were like shadows only born and befallen in such extraordinary times as this. Still; the banished hope waned and all was lost; all mercilessly lost. There was a silence which endured into all moments. The family had been torn. Now, they were both vacant parents to this glorious child called Daniel. An insurmountable bridge had suddenly collapsed within their relations. They cuddled Daniel; spoke to him; took breath of him in every moment possible; prayed to God for blessing and forgiveness. And to this end, they would soon have to release Daniel to Heaven and its unknown boundaries. What could people say? The hearts of so many would tremble at the sight. A child lost; a dream banished and to evaporate. No cause, nor reason for this mystery. Heaven knows, but its not telling. The pieces to that mystery would have to be unfurled and to be unraveled along the long duration of time. Perhaps, in some day long awaiting them, the answer would come and carry peace with it. Till then? A day, an hour, an eclipse of seconds strung in a unified way would build the rest of life, experiences and history together. This would need to be woven. Still, together, they both wandered through these moments; in shock, infernal turmoil, a sense of unholy matters, longing for what is lost, hoping that nightmares somehow only come in dreams all this that they could awake from and yet find Daniel still in the bed of life and their happy future together. Sometimes roads will travel a different course; sometimes Heaven doesnt seem to hear or respond; sometimes the lessons have no meaning at all. Many came to visit Mary and John Mulligan in their humble home; others sat in bay just outside their doorsteps. More others came by nightfall with torch to take a small spell and see the fallen parents, the wayward children, and the blessed child of Daniel. It was a village loss; it was a community loss; the bonds connected; the shared loss, shared their

own. The mantle of Heaven in some manner had yet dripped the light of its faith down upon this scene. The tears would flow from every direction; the drought of a river would not come in this eve. Daniel would be remembered as someone who should have been. Memories replaced rather by what loss became. You will drop your eyes in prayer; ask God for intervention; give home to heart and lift the spirit higher than it could fly on its own now. Somewhere the message flies about, uncalled for; looking for someone to hear what it has to say. You will listen; John and Mary Mulligan wish to hear the reasons. Little Daniel lay in his intended tiny bed all the night through. No comfort lay there. Only dreams now made impossible. Still they came from near and far. The news quickly spread; still they came. There was love wherever eyes could meet and connect. Women wept at Daniels little alter; Heaven must have shed a tear as well. The fog and mist and clouds and sprays and small drizzles and chilled, cold wet dews all came in calamity fold this very night to bring further emotion upon the scene. Still; Daniel did not move, but lay still like in some sleep; a sleep that God alone could wake him from. Our little hole of earth can only show so much; make our view somehow small. The clergy say as much; there are purposes unknown; the equation somehow incomplete. We best manage if we forget; or in the least, let time heal what wounds will fester longest. Is there another answer? Will, in Truth, little Daniel rise when the sun also comes up in the morning? Can John and Mary Mulligan dream in their sleep that Daniel will be in restless play within his bed when they awake? Will tomorrow show all this to be a fake matter when sunrise is born the next day? Perhaps they will awake; you will see, and rise to find him there; not still, but eyes in blink, a smile transposed, a tiny heart to beat, legs to kick about, and arms to lift high in want to be held. Then, in all, little Daniel was only born asleep and has come into the world a little delayed. Many arms did embrace them till the day turned to fall into another. Touches never failed to bring them warmth. The beat of a nation, a village was sure. Still; life can go on. There it comes; daylight breached the darkness to cast out tomorrows first strays of light. The birds played in the meadows; so did the sheep and cattle too. The morning came higher yet; the cold sun tried to warm all about, including all the family Mulligans collective hearts. The day was biting cold; a bitter wake that cursed all that moved. Smoke and shadows; mist and sprinkles came from all who breathed to exhale. Still; little Daniel did not move. There were no shadows and smoke and mist and sprinkles for him this morning. You will see; somehow Heaven wishes to fool us further. He will rise; wait and see. There are no lasting tears in Christian land. There are only memories of sorrows that will evolve into some manner of joys. They caught sleep, but only for a little bit. There, alone in this cold and drafty house they called home; only briefly to be alone and intimate as this mourning family should. Here, in this span of space and time, they all wept collectively as a family in loss.
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Surrounding the small crib of Daniel and stretching their looks, thoughts, and hearts all round him as he lay. Still; even now, Daniel did not move. Mary carried the heaviest weight; her eyes crept to his seat and so staggered with expression and woe; the bond of mother and child still remained. I know now Heaven did collapse in tears. There, you see? The shadows of clouds did form and move from the east; softly, gently rolling through and break the sunrise from its light. The buckets of rain were near with clouds folding now on top of one another. The cold grew more cursing still; the drizzle fell, of soft pedals in first, with pellets which drowned the ground from its dryness. Still they came, from all ways and places; the hoards of people; hearts heavy and dripping with their own snow. The air did freeze what rain initially fell. Now, but very soon, the sleet did fall and cry on its own terms. By wagon, by horseback, by foot all in unified mass they did approach. Today little Daniel will go from life to underneath earth. You will see. Heaven now will surely change the course. The clergy did follow with robe and Bible; stiff dispositions and faces in all; heads down low and sniffing the lower air as it froze their beards to white. A lone wagon crept slowly from one highest ridge to this massive, awaiting crew. Driven there by John Mulligan and his eldest son; into the rear wept all the same Mary Mulligan and her daughter too, mutually clinching little Daniel in his blanket clothes. The faces told all; no words need be said. Words can often say foolish things and bring lies to air. Though in this, the Truth is known without any hesitance. It has its own universal language; not words be said there is no need. There, in this failing proposal, a wagon did limp to its last destination; a slow crawl of sorts; that seemed to freeze in its path as it went. Heavens heart must have frozen then. For in this haunting frame of life, did snow appear to descend and glow the ground and all surroundings into a soft pillow of white. Large flakes as big as eye pupils in amazement cast down from Heavens belly flow. The tears let loose in icy reminders. Even still, little Daniel did not move. The wagon stopped just short. John Mulligan came to the rear and pulled his precious wife forward; both children to their rear. Together, with all that they held, with no trappings made, as emotions ravage the soul to question all, they held Daniel close. This would be the last time to feel his touch and warmth and heart and fingers and toes and the smell of him and cheeks; all that he was to them. This would be the last forever on earths domain. The start and finish came full circle in just one day. A blink and it was gone. Much is made who have a lifetime together and yet spoil it with regret and not casting it out with its full due. I say they are blind to all what should be. But not to the Mulligan family; they know the treasure there. Through utter pain and giftless sorrow, did they value what was all in true value and worth. They had learned the lesson meant for others, and for all to see. Heaven can still teach in the deepest tragedy. The snow fell homeward, hardest still. The clergy converged; held the Mulligans close; the end was near. There to the shallow pit were they led; consecrations made,
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scriptures read and soundly rehearsed, prayers sent aloft and meaning to Gods awaiting ear. Heaven did hear; I saw God listening. He knew the terms. Blessings bestowed; Faith renewed; Love always remained. You will see and sanctuary to the heart-filled mourners. There stood Mary Mulligan in firm cling and undying hold to her son. She would not give in; but to still this very moment and make it not move. Hold still please; the heart still beats; it must. The mistake was given in the preceding night; the angels will come and intercede. Give all back Daniel to her; make his way home. It is here, next to his mothers heart. No moment lasts longer than this one. Only a mother knows this. God forbid the rapture goes this way. Such a mother gives, even to the cross; a son belays, is given up for the sanctity of man. Mary knows, and Mary knew. Such a moment is never dispelled when her child goes to Heaven and away. Daniel was not yet born, but yet was given up to Heaven to go; Jesus made his truer purpose and went away too. But the tears of all mothers for their child are the same. And so too, did Mary wail when Daniel left from her arms into the cold, wet pit below; Heavens full tears fell by snow now. God remembers; God knows. A mothers loss is His. You will see; this story is yet untold. The ending is not here, but yet to be told. Mary will find her heart back someday; she will have to go and seek it out when she hears the beat of it once more. With one final gaze she has the memory shot of Daniel once more. Of birth, of life, of death, at once dispatched; the hollow grave just the day before, now filled up with its unintended guest. A child; a lamb; of same innocence born; and lept from womb, to life, to final resting place with no pause to enjoy the life he led. Heaven has greatest purpose in all. This, to all, is the Mulligan testament. You will see there is no Christian disclaim, when first Faith is born and survives such tragedy sustained. This is the gift; that life does not end here. There is more. You will see. Daniel is not done; Heavens virtue has greater planes to explore. A smile will replace your tears; this be known. If you are moved to hear little Daniels story, then a great good is done. The snow will fall and at last end. Winter will soon be gone and be replaced with Spring; Summer to follow; Autumn to begin again. There is cycle here, and death will not end it. You will see; Heaven and God will be your guide. Just read further; the dawn of it sits upon the next page.

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