Lucas studied the iron nail still in his hand and tried to understand what Julian had been doing with it. Had Julian known Christ? Was he Christ himself?
No, Lucas could not believe that. Julian was not the man he remembered on the cross. That peaceful man had died with a smile on his face, all grudges abandoned. Jesus had willingly shouldered not only the sins of humanity, but also that of the Devil.
Lucas remembered.
Lock In
“Can I ever be forgiven?”
Jesus peered down at Lucifer and smiled. “No, cousin, you cannot be forgiven.”
Lucifer collapsed forward, fingers sinking into the bloody sand. “Then it is as I thought.”
“No,” said Jesus. “It is not. You cannot be forgiven for the things you have done, for they are too wicked, the beast you’ve become, too tainted.”
“So why should I seek the light if it is forever beyond my grasp?”
Jesus fell silent, and it seemed he might finally have slipped away, but then he opened his eyes wide, as if reinvigorated. “Today I die,” he said. “You may die with me, Lucifer. Let the beast shrivel away to nothing, and in this very sand beneath our feet, give rise to something else. Seek not forgiveness but rebirth. Ask not for forgiveness, but for redemption. To be forgiven is to erase all that you have done, but to be redeemed is to outweigh your sins with virtue and kindness. You ask if you can be forgiven when you should be asking if you can be redeemed. The answer to that question is yes!”
Lucifer looked up at Jesus. “You think I can simply change? To act as though the past never happened?”
“The past has ended, Lucifer. Yesterday died and tomorrow waits to be born. The future is an unwoven tapestry. Stop seeking forgiveness, and instead, become something that requires no forgiveness. It has been your choice to remain outside the light. Come back and feel its warmth.”
Lucifer rose gradually, hooves sinking into the mud. Slowly they changed back into human feet—feet he vowed to never again be cloven. He lifted his chin and looked to the skies, the warm rain falling into his eyes. “I renounce myself as The Devil and turn away from all that I was. I cast sin from my shoulders in hope that I may lift others on my back.”
Jesus smiled wide. “Yes, cousin. I see you. Your spirit glows.”
“I seek not forgiveness but redemption. Forgiveness is given, redemption is earned.”
“Yes…”
“I accept you, Jesus, as my saviour.” He reached out to the man, needing to touch him, to embrace him.
But Jesus was dead. His eyes had closed. His head hung forwards.
Lucifer cried out, a pitiful moan from deep within his chest. “No, no! I can fix you. I can fix this!” He placed his hands around the ragged wound in Jesus’s ribs and tried to pull back the man’s death. But nothing happened. Jesus would not return, no matter how hard he tried. Gone forever, and already his absence felt like a great sucking hole in the world.
What have I done?
Lucifer slumped to the ground, broken. What would become of him now? How could he atone for ridding humanity of its saviour? A task unachievable even to an immortal like him.
So wrapped up in his grief was he, that he did not sense the presence behind him until the man stood right at his side speaking. “Why do you weep, angel? Is this not what you desired? It is done. Jesus is in a better place; where he belongs. Disaster has been averted.”
Lucifer looked up to see the man he’d met several days ago above Jerusalem’s market. The hook-nosed man had a rodent-like aura, and his deep-rooted avarice had called out to him like a beacon in the darkness. Greed was a useful tool to The Devil, and he had used it to control this man. “What do you want, human?”
The man frowned, hooked-nose twitching. “I want my reward.”
“What reward?”
“You said if I delivered Jesus to the Romans, I could have my heart’s desire. I did as you asked. Are you an angel, or are you not?”
Lucifer looked at Jesus on the cross, so peaceful and still. Gone forever. This man wanted a reward for this betrayal, this travesty? He had forsaken his friend and mentor for personal gain.
No… that wasn’t entirely true. Lucifer had manipulated this man—played on his fears and honed their sharpness until they were daggers pointed at Jesus’s heart. This man wasn’t entirely to blame. But nor was he deserving of any reward.
“The deal you made was with a creature that no longer exists.”
“What are you talking about? We made a deal! I had Jesus killed for you! I thought they would just imprison him. He was my friend.”
“You made a deal with The Devil. Don’t complain if you get burned.”
The man stumbled. His dusky skin turned pale. “T-The Devil? You said you were an angel.”
“What is The Devil if not the greatest of all angels? We committed the foulest of sins today, human. Commit yourself to better acts tomorrow and find your way back to the light. It is what I shall do.”
There were tears in the man’s eyes as he peered at Jesus’s hanging body and seemed to realise what he’d done. “So, this was all for nothing?” he said breathlessly. “You told me Jesus would bring strife to my homeland and its people. I thought I was doing what was right. I wanted only to serve Heaven.”
“I tricked you. I am sorry.”
“No! No, this cannot be. I am not a tool of Satan.” The man started pawing at Jesus’s corpse desperately, trying to shake him awake. “Jesus, I am sorry. I have committed a foulness in the ignorance that I was doing good. I believed The Devil’s lies, as you taught me not to. Please! Please forgive me.”
“He’s gone,” said Lucifer, moving to help the man. He had caused this. Killed one man and ruined another.
“Stay back, Satan!” The man flung an arm out at Lucifer, then turned back and started clawing at the nail in Jesus’s left wrist, trying to work it free. The metal was tightly wedged, held fast by blood and splinters, and it took several moments of mad pulling before it started to give a little.
“Leave it,” said Lucifer.
The man waggled the nail harder, trying to pull it loose. “No!”
“Leave it!” Lucifer repeated. He had seen enough and could not allow this man’s grief to tarnish Jesus’s dignity.
The man yanked again, and the nail came free. Jesus slumped diagonally as his left arm suddenly loosed.
Furious, Lucifer tried to grab the hysterical man, but found himself, instead, slashed with the iron nail. He cried out, clutching his cheek as it released black smoke. The iron had burned him, but the blood of God’s only son had exacerbated the injury. His eyes pulsed with hot fury, darkness rising within him. Lucifer almost lost control of the beast inside him altogether but pledged to see it gone forever. His eyes stopped pulsing, and the darkness went back inside.
The man gasped, and shrank back in terror, but then he seemed to conquer his fear and leapt at Lucifer again. This time, Lucifer dodged aside and let his attacker fall to the bloody sand on his hands and knees. “Do not be foolish, mortal. I am trying to save you this night.”
“Give me what I am owed.” He got up and lunged at Lucifer again. “Give me power so that I may undo this.”
Once again, Lucifer stepped aside. “You cannot harm me, mortal. And you cannot undo this. We are both to blame. We must live with it.”
The man snarled. “I shall ruin you, Satan.” He lunged again, but this time, Lucifer remained in place and caught the man’s fists, holding him in place firmly.
“You want what was promised? You want power? Fine, here it is. You shall live forever to see the consequences of your actions. Like me, you shall have eternity for which to atone. I sentence you to eternal life, Judas Iscariot. Do not waste it.”
Judas wept.
“I know who Julian is,” said Lucas, staring at the two dead aswangs. Surprisingly, he retained the memory of who one of the creatures had been in life—an Egyptian peasant named Antep. She had drowned herself in the Nile after famine had
killed all three of her infant children. The tragedy was that the famine would have taken her too, releasing her soul to Heaven, but instead, she committed suicide and ended up in Lucifer’s sadistic care. It was unjust.
Lucas understood now Hell’s true purpose. God had not cast Lucifer into the pits to punish the wicked. He had cast him into the pits to rehabilitate lost souls back into the light. God had intended Lucifer to gain his own redemption along the way.
He had missed the point all along.
God, how I missed the point.
“Who is Julian then?” asked Shirley. “I’m dying to know.”
Lucas took a breath. “He’s Judas Iscariot.”
Shirley spluttered. “You mean, the fella what betrayed Jesus? That Judas?”
Lucas nodded. “I tricked him into betraying Jesus, then broke a deal I made with him. He must have been plotting revenge all this time—two-thousand years—but I abdicated Hell’s throne the very same day I cursed him to eternal life. He’s been unable to locate me this whole time, until I returned to Hell and activated his ensnaring spell.”
Jake had made it up into a sitting position against the wall and rubbed his shin above his broken ankle; he seemed slightly amused despite the obvious pain. “You cursed Judas to eternal life? Doesn’t sound like much of a curse to me, man. I’d go for a dose of that.”
Lucas sighed. “Trust me, living forever is a curse above all others. Everything and everyone you care about crumbles to dust, but you go on. Always, you go on, no matter the state of the world. Happy memories don’t last, but regrets pile up and hang around your neck forever. Judas betrayed Jesus Christ, and he has had to carry that burden for over two-thousand years. A burden I placed upon him, with no chance to ever find peace and be done with it.”
“Still,” said Jake, “he’s kind of being a little pussy about the whole thing. He could have done anything in all this time, but instead, he chose to run a pub and wait two-thousand years to get some payback. Seems like the guy should have moved on.”
Simon kicked one of the aswangs again. He seemed to enjoy kicking things. Perhaps it served to remind him the monsters could be killed. “Judas Iscariot. Ha! All the shite from the bible… It’s all true then?”
“To a certain extent.” Lucas wasn’t a big fan of the bible. It gave people ideals they could never live up to. A better book would have helped mankind to understand its true nature and live, not in sin and shame, but in acceptance of itself. You never saw a sad monkey.
“Let’s just say the bible was inspired by true events,” he allowed, “as were most other holy scriptures from a variety of religions. Judas is not the man he’s been made out to be in the religious texts though. He was a proud man, a patriot, and he loved Jesus with all his heart. He believed in the message Jesus was preaching, but there were many who opposed it. Judas feared grave repercussions if Jesus continued on his path, and I convinced him that a rebellion against Roman rule was coming—one that would cause death and suffering on a massive scale. By offering Jesus up to the Jewish elders and the Romans, Judas thought he was saving thousands of lives. He thought he was doing God’s work. He thought I was an angel.”
Simon grunted at Lucas. “You’re a real arsehole, you know that?”
“Yes, I do. I’ve tried to be better since the day Jesus was put to death. His final act on earth was to ease my suffering and show me a better path, but I failed to show Judas compassion when he came to me broken and vulnerable.”
“Maybe you should say sorry,” said Vetta.
It sounded absurd, yet Lucas shrugged and walked down the alleyway in the direction of the shops. “I can try, can’t I?”
“Where are you going?” Jake shouted after him, clambering up the wall to stand on one leg.
“I’m going to find Judas and apologise.”
Jake hopped after him, crushed ankle dangling in the air. “What? You think that will work? We’re past apologies, surely?”
“Judas deserves my contrition, whether he accepts it or not, and I need to unburden myself. Cursing him was my final wicked act as The Devil, and one I have never repented for. I vowed to change my ways the day Jesus died, but Judas caught me while I was still shedding the last of my scales. He didn’t deserve what I did to him.”
Shirley, Vetta, and Simon got moving and caught up with Lucas and Jake. They grabbed Jake and helped him along, and they exited the alleyway together. The pub was still wrapped in vines, and at the bottom of the hill the aswangs still congregated.
“The buggers are still there,” said Shirley, turning back towards the alleyway.
Lucas grabbed her arm. “No. We have to deal with this. Just… stay here. I’m going down to face them. If they attack me, run back into the alleyway, but I need Judas to see you all standing up here. He needs to see the innocent people he is dragging into this vendetta.”
The aswangs writhed in a mass, jostling and snapping for position, a pack fighting for dominance. Each wanted to be first in line to devour Lucas as he approached. Where had the two dead ones been in the hierarchy? Was Judas their alpha?
As he reached the bottom of the hill, the aswangs hissed at Lucas like snakes, making him put his hands up. “Easy there! I want your pack leader for a parley.”
They didn’t understand him of course. Any ember of humanity had long ago been extinguished. Their hisses increased pitch, eyes blazing with savage hatred. Lucas stood his ground and tried to ignore the sloshing in his guts.
“JUDAS!” he bellowed at the grey sky. “Come out and face me. What I did to you was wrong, and I am here to answer for it, but let us end this without any more innocent bloodshed.”
The aswangs bristled, desperate to attack, but held back, perhaps, by their confusion. It took a lot to remain standing in front of them, but Lucas was prepared to be ripped apart if it put a stop to this. Willing to die for a bunch of humans he’d only just met. Was he crazy for thinking that way? He’d been alive forever, and perhaps this was the end, but for some reason, he didn’t completely dread it.
He looked back up the hill at the others—at Vetta—then turned back and took another step towards the aswangs, close enough that they could snatch his life away if they chose.
“JUDAS! Stop being a coward and face me!”
“A coward? You goad me into committing mankind’s greatest sin and label me a coward?”
Lucas reeled to find Judas standing directly behind him. The man seemed different now—taller, prouder, and darker of skin. His hair was no longer red, but half-burnt charcoal. Lucas recognised him as the man he had cursed upon Calvary Hill.
“I am sorry, Judas. Whatever ills have befallen you are my doing. Let us speak as old men and find accord. What do you wish of me to make this right?”
“I wish you to suffer eternally, Satan, as I have.”
Lucas tried to empathise with the man’s anger, but he couldn’t understand why he was so unbending. What did he want? Surely not just revenge.
“What I did to you was wrong, Judas, yet you have had an eternity to do anything you wished. Why have you turned your immortality solely towards hating me?”
“You said I should atone for the death of Jesus. Is destroying The Devil not a great act of Good?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “If The Devil still existed.”
Judas shook his head and smirked as if some great prank had been played on him. His hooked nose twitched. “Yes, of course, you’re human now. Such irony. Do you know, I tried to end my life after what you made me do?”
Lucas shook his head. “I did not.”
“Well, I did. Hanged myself from a cercis tree in a lonely field miles from anywhere. I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I had done the Devil’s bidding and thought to end my guilt with the snap of my neck. I leapt from the bough, and my neck broke like a twig, but I dangled there alive. My splintered neck caused me to lose my mind to agony, but my body refused to die. I hanged there for eleven days—unable to breathe, in utter misery from a brok
en neck, yet completely alive. I watched the sun set and the moon rise. For eleven mercilessly long days I hanged, unable to do anything but consider what I had done. Then Jesus came to me.
“At first, I thought I imagined him—he appeared on the horizon, miles away—but slowly he got closer, strolling through the fields towards me until I knew he was real. He delivered me from my noose and healed my neck as I lay there broken on the ground. Then he kissed me and left. I was too tired to go after him, so I lay there until the sun went down for the twelfth time. What did that kiss mean, Satan? I have spent two-thousand years pondering the answer.”
“The kiss was Jesus forgiving you,” said Lucas. “He understood why you betrayed him. I think you were always supposed to. As The Devil, I used to think I was a master of manipulating men, but my actions towards you were exactly what God wanted of me. Release your guilt, Judas. It is undeserved.”
Judas snarled. “What difference will it make if I feel guilty or not? You have cursed me to forever dwell outside of Heaven and Hell. What is the point of anything if it leads to nothing?”
“There is a point, Judas. Our lives may be without end, but there are billions of souls we can affect for the better. Let our existence matter for them.”
“The man we murdered on a cross would have agreed with you, as would I—long ago. I was a good man, and you turned me into a monster. I… I killed God’s son. There is no redemption for that.”
“Yet, we are both here with choices to make. You don’t have to do this, Judas. Those people up there on that hill are innocent. Just because we committed a great sin in the past, doesn’t mean we have to fill our futures with the same. We can live better lives. Tomorrow can be different”
“I am tired of tomorrows, Satan.” Judas looked up the hill towards Vetta and the others. “You care about them?”
“I… Yes, I care about them. I care about all of God’s creations, including you. They are innocent!”
“God has abandoned us all.”
Blood on the Bar Page 13
