Chapter Nine: Three Quarters Dead.
Disclaimer: I do not own Jesus Christ Superstar, nor do I own the Bible. I am not too concerned with historical inaccuracies, because I'm basing this story on a musical, and also for other reasons that will soon become quite obvious...
Author's Note and Warning: This story contains slash, suicide, murder, angst, sexual content, and profanity. This story describes same-sex relationships between biblical persons! I do not believe these people were historically gay; instead, I am basing this fanfiction on the 2000 film remake of Jesus Christ Superstar (because Jerome Pradon is made of awesome, and there is undeniable sexual tension in JCS 2000). Flames will be ignored, but any other comments are welcome and encouraged!
~Pontius Pilate~
There was something disconcerting about this "King of the Jews," so I was disappointed when Herod sent him back to me. I did not want to be responsible for this particular case.
The crowd, encouraged by Annas and Caiaphas, was hungry for blood. Their cries for execution actually seemed unwarranted to me... How could such a pale little man be a threat to anyone?
Nearly broken, the "King" managed to stand up in front of me.
Then, I knew why I found him so perplexing.
Jesus Christ was the man from my nightmares.
Indeed, it all made sense... Like the mysterious Galilean in my recurrent dream, the populace had loved Jesus, for a time. But, now, they were screaming for his blood. If things continued as my restless sleep predicted, the world would eventually mourn his death.
And I would go down in history as one of the vilest men to have ever lived: I would be the man who killed God's Son.
No! It was impossible. This pathetic creature before me could not truly be some sort of messiah. I didn't even believe in such religious nonsense.
It was obvious that the guards had already beaten the man nearly senseless, but I was never one to shy away from the whip. Perhaps seeing a bit of blood would be enough to satiate these hypocrites.
Thirty-nine seemed like a good number.
* * *
To be honest, I usually found a good flogging to be rather arousing. I usually brought a servant to my chamber afterwards for some carnal amusements. But, while the flogging of Jesus was as brutal as could be, it was anything but arousing.
Terrified, I went to him, cradled him in my arms. For once, I didn't care about ruining my fine leather uniform with a prisoner's blood.
I needed him to say something, anything, which would give me an excuse to release him. I could have him exiled, so the ravenous crowds would not have their way with him. I could keep him safe, but I needed him to give me justification. Otherwise, I would have to answer to Caesar.
Instead, Jesus babbled more nonsense, and touched my face in a gesture that seemed almost like pity.
He pitied me?
Again, the people cried for crucifixion.
I couldn't take it anymore! I would give them what they wanted. And I would make Jesus into the martyr whom he clearly wanted to be.
But I would not take the blame for this!
He was asking for it!
* * *
~Jesus~
How did I get here? Where was I, anyway?
A guard approached me, with what appeared to be a crown fashioned out of thorns. This was going to hurt, but so did everything else.
They dragged me to the cross, because I was too dizzy to walk. I heard them order me to carry it up the hill, but the sight of Judas in the distance distracted me.
I wasn't sure if he was alive or dead, but he was certainly disgusted.
His clothes were flashier than usual, and it really wasn't like him to mock my suffering this way. Perhaps I was hallucinating; I had lost a lot of blood. But was I really that far-gone?
And who were these women, dressed in scandalous outfits, who had appeared with him? None of it made any sense.
But, then, his voice was soft, and his words made all the sense in the world.
"Why? I was your friend..."
Was?
I wanted to touch him, but it seemed a shame to smear the blood from my hands onto his handsome face.
Every word Judas spoke filled me with shame, which only added to my agony. I no longer knew why I was doing this, no longer knew why I was allowing myself to be executed.
The lights were so bright, and the women's voices were loud and shrill...
And Judas was Judas dancing?
I felt the weight of the world upon the crucifix, which I desperately tried to carry, fearful of another flogging if I did not obey the guards.
But, no, it was only Judas. Judas, mocking me yet again, showing me odd texts, which only added to my confusion.
Surely, this could not be real. I must be awfully close to death, imagining such nonsense.
Judas had certainly had his cruel moments in life. But, in death, Judas was truly heartless. He only served to add to my self-doubt. I begged him to please make this end, to let me die, so I could be in possession of my faculties again. But he laughed at me.
I somehow managed to drag the cross up the hill, where I now saw Judas and his little choir of barely clothed women.
Judas looked at me with disgust, but there was something else in his eyes, too. For the first time during this odd vision, I actually saw Judas Iscariot, the man who had loved me, despite never fully understanding me. Yes, he was disgusted, but his disgust came from the deeply confused love I knew he felt in his heart.
I extended my arm, reaching for him, but he turned away...
Why are you turning away, Judas?
I wanted him with me. I wanted Judas by my side during this last chapter of my life. Instead, he walked away from me, surrounded by the women in red.
When I saw Judas welcoming the sensual gyrations of women, I knew this vision could not be real.
I wanted Judas, the real Judas.
I wanted him with me, to know my pain.
Where are you, Judas?
* * *
Author's Note: Chapter Ten will be posted soon! Sadly, the next chapter is also the final chapter:-( But the three primary characters (Judas, Jesus, and Mary) will all play important roles!
