Dohtor

Thorns sliced into her forehead. The cuts were like stab wounds into her cranium. Jules of Nazareth bled from her torso to her neck. Her legs were crisscrossed with concertina wire. Lights shone down on her and lasers burned her skin.

“We must not say it,” Hison Bowler reminded. “She is not Christ. No matter how many times she says it. She is not Him.”

“How do we know?” Fad McTurney asked.

Bowler’s eyes narrowed like sunlight struck his face. The squint was real.

“What do you mean?! She is not the living Lamb of God. She is not the Lion of Judah. She is deranged. Her request to be put on the torture rack for blinding men and killing babies is just. She is not Christ!”

Jules squirmed. She yearned for water. They gave her vinegar. SUVs packed with parishioners showed up to say that the Messiah had returned through her.

All faiths, Catholics and Protestants, Jews and Muslims, interfaiths, and even atheists showed up to see her die on the rack.

“We couldn’t put her on the cross because she, as a female, would have her bowels plummet to the earth and lie stinking and rotting. So this rack is all we have. It’s different from the two thousand or more years that the actual Christ experienced,” Bowler explained. Both men observed the blood dripping down and the exposed breasts with barbed wire around them. Jules just looked at the executionees to her left and right. One was in an electric chair. The other prepared for a lethal injection.

“You are saved. My God in heaven knows your flaws and you both have been absolved from your sins,” she called. Her voice sounded like her vocal chords had rubbed against sandpaper. She wept.

“Now we have to keep the lights shining on her as part of the transformation process. This is to discourage anyone else from speaking blasphemy against our Lord and Savior,” Bowler further explained.

“From our standpoint we should be glad the judge said she was guilty. We should be glad that she is on that rack,” McTurney said. “We’re supposed to be the gatekeepers over the land of Israel. We have to keep the land sweet in the idea that Jesus Christ is our Lord.

Multitudes continued to use their videophones to capture the captive. She wanted to be set free only to spread the word of Jesus to more countries who did not know Him. The news outlets camped out in vans and social networks all described the scene.

“Why have you done this to me, Lord? I thought you’d never leave me. I thought you were my sovereign God. I thought you were merciful. I came to you and you are now putting me in the worst possible stance. I wanted to help the rich. I wanted to deliver the productive. You have said all my efforts were in vain. My blood drips from my body and the lights…the lights burn my retinas. I am bleeding out right now. And I call your name. I still worship you even in this state. This is my final call to you Lord. I know you are the only one who can announce that you are the greatest.”

Digital video from amateurs and professionals captured her moments of agony and reflected on the fact that she was so close to being executed by the State. People cried, others frowned, some laughed. The barbed wire strained tighter against her chest and abdomen. It was a feeling ahead of knowing that her death would come soon.

Jules looked up at a helicopter. The chopping of the blades made her prayers inaudible. She wanted to voice her hour of discomfort and disgrace. Instead of throwing out a few more words, she watched the clock turn to 12 am and see both men die.