"A young man followed Him, with nothing on but underclothes. When they seized him, he left his drawers, and ran away naked!"
My Own Words

🌈

A #WRITCO Series

📚

LORD, I'M RUNNING 👟 👟 💨

🦄

Not long after Barabbas was arrested, I myself became the most notorious wanted man this side of the Empire. Everyone who was anyone that bore Roman Allegiance wanted my Skull, dead or alive. I could go nowhere public, my prayers made in fear, eyes wide open looking over my shoulders. I had no friends I could trust, the Essenes became a spintered mess, some even breaking with Traditions and turning over Scrolls! I myself had completely given up hope of attaining freedom, turning to wine and strong drink to drown away my sorrow and despair. When I walked to the Market and smelt a strong odor, I turned to see this curious sight. It was the Sacred Scroll of Josiah!

I wept bitterly as I saw the Centurion standing over it, laughing maniacally. There were wild women all around the market at this time of night, and one happened to catch my fancy. Dressed in many robes, very effervescent, she led me to her bedchambers. After we consummated, I asked her name, of which she only said Magdalene. And before I knew what was going on, they burst through and laid hands on us both, but I escaped through a crawl space in the wall unclothed. They took her to the town square intent on stoning her, but that Nazarene said something and bent down to write something.

They dispersed one at a time, leaving her and him alone.

When no one was there but him, Simon and John the Annointed (him I did love at first glance, for he was unusually fair to look at!), I approached the man cautiously. He called to me thence, from afar.

"Come," he said, "follow me!"

I was still stark naked, my hand only covering my vessels, with a skin of tepid wine at my side with the other. And this 'holy man' calls me forth!?

I immediately dropped the skin, pluck fig leaves to sew together and hide my nakedness, and that was my first time following the Son of Man.

We smiled and laughed after that, usually at my expense.

"Young Mark ran around Stark Naked!" They'd sing along.

But I didn't care, I'd found a new calling.

One of Peace, and Life.

But that too was soon cut short. Because as I said before, Iscariot was a Thief and a very greedy man. Mary Magdalene had since her redemption become untouchable by any man, but Judas still burned for her services. When she told him no, he resolved to go to the Sanhedrin and sow Discord to the High Priests saying:

"This man teaches that a King is among our people, and so here I am. See, he rides in as the Prophets declared. Is he now our King?"

And they tore their robes at his words and offered him thirty shenkels of gold for his troubles.

Then he sought his opportunity to betray him. But I too lied in wait, for I knew his intent, as he did the same to Barabbas.

And in the Garden of Gethsemane, where we all knew well that night, Judas crept upon the Nazarene faining a Kiss of recognition. Immediately the guards were upon him. Simon withdrew his sword, reverting instantly back to a zealot and cutting off an ear; but the Nazarene stayed his hand further restoring the ear. Then they took him away bound in thick rope and chains.

But Iscariot stayed behind, as I knew he would. While the other disciples scattered, running from the Guards, I pursued Iscariot and captured him near the very bush I had previously been ensnared. As I wrapped my spindly hands around his thick throat, he cried out for help and the Roman Guards pursued me.

I only escaped by leaving my loincloth behind once more, only having my hands to hide my vessels.

The Guards were all around me, and as the garden was kept low to the ground, there were few places to hide. So on all fours I found myself running as a bear would from bush to bush, growling and frothing at the mouth as a wild beast of the field. The Soldiers indeed believed I was, and in fear tucked tail and fled.

Later that night, I caught sight of Judas again, sitting along side a tree in tears. He saw my slow approach, but this time resisted not.

"I know you seek to slay me for what I had done," he admitted. "But there is no need. I know I am deserving of Death." And he turned his back to me, bowing his head.

At this, I didn't know what to do, my heart said to plunge my sword deep between his blades. But my spirit cried for compassion, having been now for a while in the company of the Nazarene. As I lifted my sword, and then brought it down, it fell to the Earth where it remained beside his lowered head.

I don't know whether he was grateful or not for my mercy, but I heard not long after that Iscariot hung himself by the selfsame tree.

Why I wept over his death, I may never comprehend.

But I ran through the night to see what had become of my new brethren. Scattered and terrified they all were, but none so much as Simon. I watched as he swore against heaven he was not one of the twelve.

I could not believe his words. He even put a tuft of pork to his lips as if to eat it to prove he was not of the flock.
.
Thus they believed.

Truly, I was so ashamed.

I glanced beyond the hillside and caught the eye of the Nazarene meet Simon's gaze, and Peter too wept bitterly.

Then he was led away to the Sanhedrin where they ridiculed and accused him of all sorts of treachery and deceit. Slapping and spitting on him, I couldn't take anymore and flung a pebble into their midst. They all stopped with the tormenting and insisted he be judged by Pilate.

Now Pilate was a contrary man, and often took money to order heinous acts upon the people. But when the Sanhedrin came, they loathed the Governor, and offered not on shenkel to his hands.

So Pilate had the Nazarene beaten with his strongest Centurion, forty lashes. Each one like the Sting of Death they struck.

And as they parted his clothes, they crowned him mockingly with thorns from, again, the selfsame berry bush, and brought him back before Pilate.

He stood there a bloody shell of a man. Pilate then presented Barabbas beside the Nazarene.

I was shocked, thinking he were already dead.

He was a morose shadow of his former glory, his arms frail, tongue short, loose and lapping. And his eyes had gapping holes where his irises would be.

He looked like he hadn't eaten in years!

Verily, it was so horrid, I knew him not, only by name. And I immediately purged myself. He was worse than the cursed Lazarus, and him I bathed.

This, I would not.

They took pity on Barabbas because of his appearance, and the Nazarene was sent off towards Golgotha.

Until then, I had never actually seen a full crucifixion. What I witnessed happen to him, made my blood run Cold. And for the duration, I felt as a ghoul.

I will redeem my strength and return later to this horror.

(The Chronicles of Mark)

TBC

🌈 📖

THANK YOU FOR READING

🩸 ❌

ALWAYS BELIEVE

🙏🏽 💯

© I Am MichAel