…and his name was Judas

by R.T. Allenson


He fought fate and lost. Since his birth his life was being tailored for this very moment and if he hated, he did not show it. His kiss was not just his master’s death but also his own.

“Why have you done this?” Jesus whispered back; it was all a play, a show to let loose and unfasten the hearts and minds of those who hesitated, those too weak to make the ultimate sacrifice. He could only smile, holding back tears as the soldiers came to arrest his master, and into the darkness he vanished – away from the others, for their minds would surely be clouded by rage and sorrow.

For this he knew in his heart, though he was playing the devil he would be savior too, for nothing so great than the death of a god could save the world…

He wept of course as he died, hung himself in the desert till all the foul creatures preyed on his body. None could be so cruel, so wicked, not even a traitor; an unwilling traitor. His final thoughts rested on the future. Perhaps his name would become synonymous to love, the ultimate sacrifice one can make in the name of the greater good…

…if only.

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