fiction, stories, writing

A Brother’s Lament: The Hanging

Disclaimer

This story along with the others in this small series of stories is purely fiction. It is not meant to go against anyone’s belief in the Gospel. This is my own personal belief in the form of fiction and the “supernatural” parts are more -so true to life than they are in the Bible. It is another telling of what happened in the view of the so-called “villain.” My personal belief is inspired by the lost gospels of Judas, Barnabas, Mary Madeleine, and the belief that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of the Hebrew/Christian God.

The Story

I hated this. Why could it not be me that had to suffer? Or was it me who suffered the most? I went to the high priests and yelled at them to try and reconsider hurting him. All they did was laugh in my face. As if Peter or anyone else would understand. I would not be surprised if James had been dragged into his little fold. I sat on the edge and cried hearing them beat him and make him sound like a criminal. All we wanted was peace. Peace among our people and theirs. What if I…

“Betrayer!” I heard Peter’s voice from behind me. This scene felt all too familiar. It… was that nightmare I had. The one before we came into Jerusalem. The angry fisherman stood there as I turned to him. He had a noose in his hand along with my wife, Prima, being held by another Apostle. I had begged her not to come with us after that nightmare but, as she always did, she refused. Anger began to build in my gut.

“Let her go, Peter,” I said angrily.

“No,” the drunk spat. “You will pay for what you did to Yeshua.”

“I only did what he asked me to do!” I yelled. “What about you? Have you forsaken his name yet? You should be the one called betrayer.”

He glared at me and ordered the others to grab me. They beat me in tune with the beating my precious brother was getting from the guards. I saw James look from Peter to me not knowing what to do. “James, run. Run to mother,” I ordered weakly. Thankfully, I saw him run as I asked him to do. I could not let him see both of his elder brothers beaten like this. 

“Judas!” I heard Prima yell. “Please! Stop this! Let him go!”

“Let him go?” Peter seethed. “Why should I let someone who betrayed Yeshua go? He is the one who brought the guards. He is the one who kissed him as a mark of death.”

“He did what he had to. Please, just…” 

“Quiet Prima,” I said hoarsely after spitting out some blood. “Peter, do what you want with me, but let her go,”

“I do not think so. You will not get a swift death. I will make you suffer. Starting with her,” The other apostles grabbed me and tore my clothes off of my body. I was beginning to mimic what they had forced Yeshua into. Only rags to cover my bloodied and beaten body. Since the two of us had always looked similar one could not tell us part. 

They took us to a sturdy tree and threw the satchel of silver that I had obtained onto the ground. They forced me to kneel while looking up.

“First, I will make everyone believe that you were the coward everyone says you are. At the same time, I will make you watch.” 

If I had thought Peter was insane and evil before, I was wrong. He had no soul for a man who was trying to win over my brother. He forced a rag in my mouth stopping me from any kind of speech. It was still night time but I could see by the stars and the full moon what they were doing. They dressed my beloved wife in my clothes and strung her by the neck as if she were a doll that belonged to one of our daughters. When it was set they dropped her from a higher branch and her neck snapped like a fragile twig. I tried and tried to yell but nothing but muffle came from my voice. All I could do was cry. I was losing everyone I loved in one night. I felt a dark part of me awaken. Something sinister telling me I needed to get revenge. That I was strong enough to break from this hold and make them all pay.  

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves!” A stern feminine voice came from the side breaking me out of this fit of rage. I turned to see my stepmother Mary, my sister-in-law Mary Magdalen, and James looking horrified at the now corpse of my beloved wife, Prima. The voice came from my mother. She walked up and slapped Peter.

“Do you believe that my son would want you to do this? Do you even believe in him?” She asked. My brothers’ mother could be scary when she wanted to be. Imagine how it was raising us. 

Peter shook in my mother’s grasp. “N…no… I do not know him. I was simply teaching his follower a lesson.”

James and my heads looked up at this. You will deny that you know me three times before the rooster rows. Perhaps I was not the only one who had prophetic powers.

“Peter,” my sister-in-law said angrily. “After all that my husband had done for you, you would deny him?”

“I… do not know what you are talking about, woman.”

Two. I looked over the horizon where the light was beginning to peek. Soon a rooster would crow. This time, James went up to him. He was there when our brother said Peter would deny him. Neither of us believed it would be like this. 

“Peter, you do not know Yeshua like we do. Do you truly believe Judas would do what he did if Yeshua did not know as well? How can you even call yourself an Apostle? Do you know Judas and my brother at all?” He was angry like I was. He knew that if I could not get to him, he would.

“N…no, I do not know him.” He said this defeat and the rest of the apostles stood astonished. Both Marys came to my aid as I fell into their arms. A rooster called in the city below. All who were there at the supper stared at Peter. He cried as the two women and James led me down the hill. I was shaking with tears. So much loss. My wife, my brother… My brother. I stopped the women before they took me to where they were staying. 

“Wait, there is something I must do.”

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fiction, stories, writing

A Brother’s Lament: The Last Supper

Disclaimer

This story along with the others in this small series of stories is purely fiction. It is not meant to go against anyone’s belief in the Gospel. This is my own personal belief in the form of fiction and the “supernatural” parts are more -so true to life than they are in the Bible. It is another telling of what happened in the view of the so-called “villain.” My personal belief is inspired by the lost gospels of Judas, Barnabas, Mary Madeleine, and the belief that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of the Hebrew/Christian God.

The Story

I felt ill. Sick to my stomach. Why did my brother insist that we go through this farce of a supper? He was the one who asked me to fulfill this ill-fated prophecy instead of running out of Jerusalem like I had suggested. He insisted that my betrayal would be the only way he would not be killed on the spot. What if taking the silver pieces is what brings the horrific fate that I saw? I did remember the fisherman claiming I was a betrayer. That, in itself, is what makes me think that the future I saw coming true is what is truly to come? What was the point in seeing the future when you cannot change it? 

I was quiet while the rest of the Apostles drank their fill of wine. My brother loved the trick he used at the wedding three years ago so much that he used it more than once. It was a simple transformation spell, but it saved our group so much money on wine. He was always the one who was gifted with the natural magic of this world. I was only gifted in prophesying the future. 

“Judas, what is wrong?” James asked. He had always been the youngest of the group and the younger brother of Yeshua and myself. We never told any of the others that any of us were true or even half siblings because we wanted us to be more evened out. 

“Nothing, enjoy the meal,” I said with a sad smile. I made a pact to protect both of my little brothers. John was no different. He did not even know about the horrible visions that plagued my dreams.

“How can I enjoy it when I can tell something is wrong with both of my elder brothers?” he asked in a more hushed tone. The boy was always gifted with knowing what others were feeling. 

I just gave him a smile while Yesh gathered everyone together. So, this is how you spark everything Yesh? Yeshua went in explaining a strange analogy about the wine representing his blood and the bread representing his body. As always, my brother was all for the theatrics. He glanced at me with sad eyes. “…and now, the one who dips his bread after mine will betray me.”

I felt as if I was going to empty the little food I ingested. Did he have to bring about that I would “betray” him? Was this his way of making sure the prophecy happened the way that I saw? He dipped his bread into my favorite dip to make things even worse for me. I sighed following suit. 

The room gasped and I felt Peter grab me from behind and slam me against the wall.

“How dare you?” He glared, he looked like he was about to swing his strong arm into my gut before my brother stopped him.

“He is not the only one guilty before the night is done. You will deny that you know me three times before the rooster rows. Do not make this last night that we have together filled with violence. Let him go, Peter.” The entire room shivered at how calm my brother could sound even faced with danger. I knelt down with shaking hands and held my brother’s. 

“Please Yeshy… do not make me do this…” I pleaded. I could feel tears wanting to poke its way out of my eyes. I just wanted to take him and run.

“Go,” he said softly with his eyes not meeting my own. “Please do what needs to be done.”

A few hours passed and I did what was needed to get done. The soldiers in tow, we made our way into the garden of Gethsemane. I told them that the man I would kiss on the cheek was the man they wanted. The idiots put in charge of my brother had fallen asleep. John, Peter, and even my baby brother James was resting while my brother sat there calmly with his eyes closed. I frowned and hugged him. “Please do not make me do this brother,” I whispered. When I heard him say nothing I knew I had to act. Otherwise, the soldiers would attack us all. I kissed his cheek softly. 

“Judas,” he asked calmly, fighting back tears I knew were coming. “Must… you betray me with a kiss?”

I held onto him in tears before the guards forced me off of him. While all this was happening, I could see Peter wake up and in a rage grabbed a sword from one of the guard’s ear off before trying to approach me with the blade. 

“Put the sword down Peter,” Yeshua said sternly. He raised his hand to heal the ear before they took him away. Before Peter could rage at me when he was gone, I ran after them. Now that his task was done it was time for me to find a way to save him. I would not let my little brother I had sworn to protect die like this.

fiction, stories, writing

A Brother’s Lament: The Temple

Disclaimer

This story along with the others in this small series of stories is purely fiction. It is not meant to go against anyone’s belief in the Gospel. This is my own personal belief in the form of fiction and the “supernatural” parts are more -so true to life than they are in the Bible. It is another telling of what happened in the view of the so-called “villain.” My personal belief is inspired by the lost gospels of Judas, Barnabus, Mary Magdeline, and the belief that Jesus was a prophet and not the son of the Hebrew/Christian God.

The Story

It was quiet now. He rarely lost his temper, but when he did it was terrifying. Despite all who follow him, my brother’s wrath could scare the strongest of wills. I walked through the rubble while the merchants scurried to gather every coin that was spilled to the sacred grounds of the temple. 

“The soldiers are suspicious as it is. Of all times to lose his temper.” The fisherman’s tasteless comment was not exactly wrong but also not appropriate. Things have been so tense lately. It did not help that my dreams were getting more and more vivid. Dreams that I only told my dear little brother about. 

“You do realize you have the worst temper of all of us, Peter,” I told the man with a bit of annoyance. He never liked me. He never liked how close I was to Yeshua. Even if I was his elder brother by marriage. He wanted to be the one who was second in command. He didn’t care how much a burden the title even meant. The things I know. 

On the outside, we allow the followers and apostles to believe that Yeshua is the one who has visions of the future. In truth, I am the one who suffers these endless visions. I cannot stand to see soldiers beating my brother and putting him to death. He and I are the only two who know what is going to happen by the end of this horrible week. He still insists on going through with it no matter how many times I beg him to have us leave Jerusalem. To avoid this ill fate. 

“You are the one who talks any sense to him. Go talk to your brother,” he walked up to a rich man who had just finished gathering his silver and kicked him back down. He would never show how horrible he still was in front of my brother. 

I frowned, deciding it was better off leaving him alone. I walked into the quiet temple to join my brother. He tended to pray in a place that was more secluded from the rest. It was a good place for us to speak quietly with each other. A place of peace. It was looked down upon by most of the Hebrews, but Yeshua and I had our own beliefs. As long as we kept to ourselves and spoke quietly and honestly there was no harm done. 

As I approached him, I could see him shaking softly. I knew this all too well. “Yeshua,” I said softly kneeling close to him. “It is not too late to leave.”

“No,” he sniffed. “Our people need a hero. Someone who will stand up to them but bring no violence towards them. Someone who will show that peace can be gained without violence.”

“We are showing it. You do not have to die for it to happen. I promised when you were born that I would always protect you. Please, what about Mary and your children? What about mother?”

“You know mother understands everything will happen for a reason. Your visions have always been proof of that.” He gave me a gentle smile and leaned next to me. It was always something he did when it was just us. I smiled as I held my brother close. I knew the idea of his suffering and death scared him. He was so stubborn that he refused to really admit it out loud. We stayed silent until the others came in ready to pray. We straightened up and joined in, even though the eyes of the rabbis were peering onto us… 

Something had to be done. My dreams showed the soldiers taking my brother from his teachings to our people and beating him. It was such a harsh way to be taken in. If he insisted on this prophecy to come to fruition… should I do something so his arrest would not be so harsh?

“Judas? Are you alright brother?” Yeshua asked. He could always tell when I was upset just like I could tell when he was. 

“Nothing, we can speak about it later.” I feigned a smile as we went back to our worship.