"How the Hell-" Barabbas swung at Cain for anger. "-do you expect me to believe-" Cain easily dodged and returned a jab to the ribs."-it's been that Goddamn long?!" He leapt backward for his sword and Cain held a small blade up to his neck. His tone changed from the cold, educated man to something of another world.
"I want you to look into my eyes and tell me whether or not I have any reason to lie." The sound came out as a horrifying whisper of a voice. Barabbas was not yet through.
"First you tell me you're Cain. Don't get me wrong, I know he's real. But there's no way I'm anywhere near that old-"Cain cut him off suddenly.
"Every word I have told you is true. My name is Cain, It is the year 814 Anno Domini and you have been cursed by God."
"Okay, Cain tell me this. Why do you care? You obviously know exactly what happened, you don't need my help to learn how the other Jesus died.-" He jerked his arm toward his weapon, but the other man pressed his own blade harder against his throat, drawing blood. His long sleeve of a deep brown fell back to reveal it was a farmer's tool.
"That man is the Son of God. Do you think it coincidence that it is 814 AD, and around eight centuries since He died?" Barabbas's face changed from confused anger to dawning comprehension.
"They based the years off Him-" He stopped going for his weapon and Cain relented, helping him to his feet and dropping the voice. He stared off into the fading horizon, addressing Barabbas with his back turned.
"As the sun sets, Jesus Barabbas, one of the most powerful men in the world dies. He, like legions of others, is practitioner of a faith new to you-the church of Jesus Christ."
"They put the Son before the Father? What kind of religion-"
"Not exactly. There are more pressing explanations, though. You are like your counterpart in more ways than you realize. Do you know what your name means?"
"No, I can't read." Barabbas put it simply, not hiding his shame.
"Directly, it is 'Son of the Father'. You two were accused of the same crime. When Jesus of Nazareth was arrested, the soldiers report that He had just finished praying and that some of His followers were armed."
"He and I are almost exactly alike…"
"More precisely, He almost became you. You are the result of Fate, and Jesus defied the stars."
"What does that make me, then? Who am I?"
"Something else, I really do not know. As far as a matter of greater confusion, your curse is likely due to what happened at the trial. Because of your incredible similarities, it is not a far jump to assume Fate decrees that 'Jesus' whoever he may be, will suffer more than any other human."
"And because He was beaten and I lived…"
"Your opposite sufferings continued. He descended into Hell, only to conquer it. You must continue to live, unfairly, as you were unfairly pardoned." Barabbas grew angry.
"You're saying I deserve this? I killed a man, Cain! Thousands of men kill other men, some more than once, they kill repeatedly!"
"No man gets what he deserves. Your curse of life and sufferings thereof are equal to the death and pain of the Nazarene. But there are still more pressing questions."
"Am I immortal?" Barabbas blurted out.
"Probably not completely- All we know is that you have lived for a long time already, and that you will likely continue living. I have no intention of testing your indestructability. We shall act as though you are as fragile as a sick girl." Barabbas was apparently insulted, then simply confused once more.
"Look…what you're telling me is interesting and all, but what am I supposed to do?"
"Barabbas, do you believe that man follows Fate, or the Will of God?"
"Apparently, he does."
"I do not. I am of the opinion that a man chooses his own destiny. If God has cast this terror upon your life, why not use it?"
"Well, just because I don't deser-"
"Why not take revenge? Is that not what the law says?"
"I don't know, man…those laws are kind of old… plus I think they were copied from another civ-"
"Disregard the law, then. Disregard God. We shall repay this injustice."
"Are you sure about this? It seems like we're taking this too-"
"I told you my name was Cain, yes?"
"Yeah, you did." At these, Barabbas's words, Cain produced the tool from his robes once more.
"This is a sickle. I used it to kill my brother."
"You're- You're the Cain."
"And I have the same curse as you. We are not so different, you and I."
"I don't understand, you were sent off like everybody else… wouldn't you die?"
"I would, but God used my own words against me- I was a fool."
"I don't understand."
"'He who kills Cain will be avenged sevenfold'. That is what God told me when I complained that I would die separate from His place.
"Well, yeah, I remember that."
"He carved it into my forehead." Cain removed his hood to reveal a bald head with alien characters in black.
ושש שישה מאה שישים
Barabbas, illiterate, decided that Cain would explain them later. He was right, to an extent. "I'm untouchable Barabbas. Even Death would be a fool to take me. My bones and organs refuse to decay. I am forced to wander about for eternity."
"And that's why you came to find me, sought me out."
"I have decided to use my curse. Will you?" In truth, Barabbas knew not.
"I guess I'll stick with you for now."
"Good. We have multiple places to go. The first is not far from here. They call it Kashmir."
"What are we going to do there?"
"The region is the basic water supply of millions an old friend of mine lives there."
"Old? How old is this one? Old as I am?"
"Not exactly, but would you not find it hard to befriend those you knew would not be around for long? In cases like ours, we do best to stick together." The two of them started off on a small road Cain found, probably having traversed it before. It was a day of discovery for Barabbas, and it was as his friend trekked along in front, not even looking where he was going, instead looking out over the hills archetypal of India, likely for more roving tribes of bandits. He's been doing this kind of thing since before I was born…God only knows how long. Experience weighed heavily on the man's gray eyes.
"Who exactly is this friend?" After significant time on the road, Barabbas could bear the question no longer.
"We're almost there. You'll see him yourself." In a few hours, he spied a man standing before a beautiful lake at the foot of majestic mountains. Up close, the man was beaten and worn, with clear impressions of rope on his neck, as though someone had tried to strangle him. "This man's name is Judas. I trust you will get along famously."