Revelations(83)

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Matthew


The concert is amazing! It’s the most incredible thing ever! That light show—I can’t even describe it, it’s just the best that ever was! Stupid Judas for not letting us have one before! When Jesus gets out of jail, we’re going to talk to him about it, see if he can’t make Judas let us have our own. We outnumber him, after all.

Surely that counts for something. Besides, it’s Judas’ fault the Master was arrested, his fault he’s in jail, so who cares what he thinks anyway?

You know what I wish? That Lucifer would take Judas away from us, so far away that he can never find his way back. We don’t need him, we never have.

After the concert’s over, and everyone’s gone, we all party together with some of Mary M’s music friends. They’re so cool, with a capital C! That one guy, the one Mary calls E, is flirting with some of us, but not me. Mary has her arm around my waist, and I’m so happy I think I’ll simply die. Not really, but you know, like figuratively.

We’re sitting around, doing shots, laughing and partying. Someone passes around a joint. I like the way it makes me feel, all light and fluffy, like a cloud. I rock back and forth, Mary and I together, and when she kisses me…it feels even better than it ever has, and I’m thinking I might ask her to stay with me tonight, it seems like she might want to…

Mary’s phone’s vibrating. I can feel it, since I’m touching her. Someone’s texting her. She’s so popular, she is, she’s the most beautiful woman in the wo

—”What’s wrong, Mary?” Something’s wrong, I can see it in her eyes. She’s just holding her phone, but she isn’t saying a word. “Mary, answer me, please?” She doesn’t respond, so I take the phone out of her hand.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. It can’t be true, no, it can’t be.



“What’s up?” Andrew asks, his question echoed by the others. I don’t want to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I have to tell them, they have a right to know.

“Jesus is dead.” I can’t even believe it, and neither can they. They’re all yelling and crying and the visitors are yelling and crying, too, though I don’t think they really get it. They think we’re talking about the lead singer of the Apostles, the one we had the benefit for, not Jesus Christ, our savior.

“I have to tell his mother,” Mary’s saying. She looks as stunned as we feel, but she gets up, shaking our her skirts—she’s wearing the most beautiful dress, even if we’re all sitting in the grass; she isn’t the kind of girl who worries about that sort of thing. She goes back to the tent. Mary’s sleeping there. I’m glad I don’t have to be the one to tell her that her son is dead—again.

“It’s his fault, you know.” Simon’s openly weeping. We all are.

“Whose?” Thomas asks. How can he be so blind? Who else? The betrayer, of course.

“Where is he?” I ask, not bothering to answer the stupid question. Without waiting for an answer we all head for the pond. Who knows if he’s there or not, but it’s the first place we think of. We’re almost there when we can hear him, screaming. Sounds like he’s yelling at Lucifer. I don’t care. I don’t care about him at all. He’s a worthless piece of slime. And he’s killed him again. Killed our Jesus.

I’m so angry, I could kill Judas myself.

There he is. Ranting and raving at no one. Everyone begins to yell at him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Looks like he’s been in a fight. He’s a coward, he should have died to save Jesus, but obviously he didn’t. And he has the nerve to yell at us now?

“Where is he? Where have you taken him?” he asks us.

Stupid ass. Do we look like we have him with us? You’re the one that betrayed him, left him to die, you coward.



Peter yells at Judas, telling him it’s his fault Jesus is dead. He acts like he didn’t know, but he had to. He’s putting on his own act now, trying to save his sorry skin. Well, it won’t help. I hope Peter kills him, I really do.

I grab Thomas, just in case he’s thinking about interfering, ’cause I know he’s soft on Judas. Thomas is screaming to Peter to stop, but it won’t help. Mary M is here now too, and she’s yelling, but it’s too late. Peter just killed Judas Iscariot.

Good work, Peter.





Chapter Forty: Mary M


I will myself to stay calm, even as I look at the text message in disbelief. We just saw him a few hours ago, what could have possibly happened in that short time? What in the world’s going on here? I have to wake Mary, she has to know. I take my phone back from Matthew, getting up from the ground. My skirts are wet, but I don’t care. I have to sort out what’s going on, make some sense out of all of this.