JCDHJesus Christ Dinosaur Hunter

Chris Conley

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JCDHJesus Christ Dinosaur Hunter

Blasphemy

1: the act of insulting or showing contempt or lack of reverence

for God.

2: irreverence toward something considered sacred or inviolable.

FIRST EDITION, DECEMBER 2012

Copyright © 2012 by Chris Conley

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Jesus Christ Dinosaur Hunter

Chapter 1

Jesus and Pals

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the

light.” – Helen Keller

esus picks up the reins and brings his pteranodon in for a

graceful landing. There is a crowd, and in most faces he sees

fear; but his disciples wear masks of serenity, still Jesus can

see anxiety in their eyes.

JThe man he most desperately seeks is not here.

As Jesus dismounts, the disciples surround him and ask

what news. Jesus says, "My friends, have patience. Tell me,

where is Odysseus for I have much to say."

The muttering crowd presses in close, people in the back

shout for answers. The disciple Paul says to Jesus in a low voice,

"Thank the Lord in Heaven that you have returned for I fear that

you are the only one who can help Odysseus. He sits at the docks,

and gazes west towards Ithaca. Jesus we are worried for him. He

hardly eats. He won't talk to anyone."

"Take me to him," Jesus says.

"Jesus! Please tell us what news you bring." Someone in

the crowd asks.

"Is there truly a dinosaur army?" Asks another.

A child cries out, "Is Santa real? Is he coming for us?"

Jesus raises his hands. The crowd falls silent. "Friends

gather all you know, I will speak at the city green in two hours."

Not giving anyone a chance for rebuttal, Jesus turns, and

with a hurried pace heads for Odysseus. In a whisper he asks

Paul, "Tell me, is the city of Callirhoe defendable against an army

of dinosaurs a thousand strong?”

“Jesus, we are blessed by God, for his divine favor has

provided this city with great defenses. To the west is the Dead

Sea, south is the wide Arnon River, the mountains to the north are

far too steep for dinosaurs to approach from…”

Jesus interrupts, “Paul, do not tell me what any man with

eyes in his head can see. I return and see fear in the people. Will

they be able to fight?”

“The city of Callirhoe has been at peace for many

generations, praise God, and any citizen that once held the

occupation of soldier is so long in the tooth that they couldn’t

persuade a submissive stegosaurus to find another field to graze

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in, let alone defeat a vicious velociraptor. Every day refugees

pour into Callirrhoe with stories of dinosaur attacks. Jesus, these

people of misfortune come without children. Farmers also come,

not to sell stock at market, but to seek shelter from the dinosaurs

that hunt the plains east of here. They are broken. What are we to

do?”

Jesus says, “Paul, go find Mary and bring her to the city

green. Send the rest of the disciples throughout the city to spread

news of an assembly this evening, an assembly for war.”

Jesus continues on to Odysseus alone.

Odysseus stands at the end of a pier that extends some two

hundred feet into the Dead Sea. He shields his eyes from the

setting sun. Where he is standing is the farthest west he can be.

His home is in the west. His wife Penelope is in the west. His

heart, mind, and soul are in the west. Odysseus does not notice

Jesus' arrival.

"Odysseus my friend, I bring dire news."

Odysseus slowly turns around and says, "Jesus, Son of the

Sun God, it's always dire with you. We've been hunting dinosaurs

for twelve years, and they're nearly extinct. This dinosaur army

you speak of does not exist. Furthermore, an organized dinosaur

army is completely ridiculous. They are savage beasts. Sure,

some species may hunt in packs, but you believe that there is a

structured rank and file army of dinosaurs. And to suggest that

Santa Claus is the commander of such a force is also complete

lunacy. Santa Claus is a story mothers tell to children to frighten

them into doing their chores, only a madman would believe that a

fictional character sneaks into houses at night to steal away

misbehaving children. Jesus, the time has come for me to depart

from your crusade against the dinosaurs and return to my people.

What kind of King am I? An entire generation of people has not

seen my face. I must return to Ithaca."

Jesus says "You must stay for one more day, for tomorrow

the sun rises on the backs of a dinosaur army, led by Santa

Claus."

Odysseus turns back and inclines his head in acquiesce.

He closes his eyes and a single tear hangs for a moment before

falling into the sea.

Jesus’ pace is a little slower after his palaver with

Odysseus. He is troubled by Odysseus’ distress; Jesus needs

Odysseus’ sword and shield now more than ever. He walks on to

the city green alone. The streets are queerly empty as shadows

begin to creep into alleys and cross ways. There is a small boy

skipping in the middle of the street towards Jesus. He’s singing a

nursery rhyme; Jesus hears, “One, two, Santa’s coming for you.”

The boy nears Jesus and his mouth widens into a sardonic grin

and continues, “Three, four, better lock your door.” The boy is

now standing toe to toe with Jesus his head cranes back to look in

Jesus’ face, he sings, “Five, six, get your crucifix.” The boy

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brandishes his own crucifix that is hung by a string around his

neck. He titters and continues, “Seven, eight, there’s no escape”

He takes both of Jesus’ hands in his own and dances in a circle

around a pivoting Jesus and sings, “Nine, Ten, Santa’s full again.”

He stops dancing, howls a maniacal laugh, and skips away.

Goosebumps crawl up Jesus’ arms and raise the hair on the nape

of his neck. The child’s haunting rhyme repeats itself in Jesus’

mind as he resumes his course.

One, two, Santa’s coming for you

Three, four, better lock your door

Five, six, get your crucifix

Seven, eight, there’s no escape

Nine, ten, Santa’s full again

At the city green, people bustle about preparing for the

arrival of Jesus. Some are lighting street lamps, others are

erecting a stage, the disciples are arriving with large groups of

people, and mothers are desperately clutching their children.

Everyone talks in hushed voices, drowned by the sounds of

preparation. The city green was built in a rectangular fashion, laid

lengthwise east to west. Jesus approaches from the west with the

blood red sky as a backdrop.

Jesus climbs up to the stage and with no introduction

begins to speak. The people immediately stop, stand still, and

listen. “My friends, people of Callirrhoe, there is great evil

coming. Though far from the protection of Jerusalem, the great

city of Callirrhoe shines like a beacon of hope in the darkness. It’s

not the buildings or the roads or the trade or the resources that

make a city. It’s the people. The people, rich and poor, they are

the soul. Deep in your souls I see strength. People of Callirrhoe,

tomorrow we will face Santa Claus’ dinosaur horde. I am asking

you to rise up and defend your homeland. Fight with me!

Tomorrow we will put an end to Santa Claus and his dinosaurs

once and for all!”

Jesus falls silent, quite a few mothers mutter prayers, and

too few children utter cries. Everyone else stands stoic knowing

what they must do.

Jesus begins to speak again, this time he says, “All able

bodied citizens shall come forward to be taken account of and to

be equipped with weapons and armor.”

The disciples are the first to move, weaving through the

crowd they head to the stage. Mary is not among them. Jesus

kneels on the stage, and when Paul arrives he says, “Where is

Mary?”

Paul says, “Bless the Father in Heaven, I found Mary and

told of your arrival to which she responded by tossing back a

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drink of whiskey. I pleaded with her to come but my words fell on

deaf ears. Jesus, by the smell of her she is deep in drink.”

To which Jesus responds, “I swear that woman will be the

death of me. I feel that she is in grave danger, however I must

leave her to her own fate for the time being.”

The disciple Peter steps forward and says, “Jesus while

spreading your request for assembly I ran across a company of

archers from Jericho. They explained that they are on their way

home from training with Egyptian soldiers. I told them of our

situation and asked for their aid, they agreed.”

Jesus says, “Good, fan-fucking-tastic. Have their captain

join us for the war council.” Peter nods, pivots on his heel, and

walks away.

Odysseus sits troubled on the edge of the pier. The news

of an impending dinosaur attack does not weigh as heavily on his

mind as it should. He lies back thinking of Ithaca and his wife

Penelope when sleep takes him. Odysseus is back in Ithaca, he’s

walking through a field of wheat that brushes his waist. One hand

surfs along the gently swaying wheat crests. His other is in

Penelope’s hand. She walks beside him and gazes into his eyes.

Odysseus tries to speak, but Penelope raises a finger and presses

it to his lips. She turns to face him. Penelope is slowly fading into

an ethereal being. She begins to lift into the air. Odysseus tightens

his grasp on her hand as she continues to ascend. Penelope is

mostly a hazy white mist and slips through his fingers. Her form

coalesces into the moon and the field of wheat fades into the

Dead Sea. Odysseus is once again left alone on the edge of the

pier. He stands and shouts “Gods, what cruel trick are you playing

on poor Odysseus?” A star falls from heaven and lands out in the

sea. He sees a figure striding across the water towards him. As it

gets closer he recognizes Hermes, messenger to the Gods. A

feeling of foreboding washes over him.

Hermes says to Odysseus, “Odysseus, son of Laertes and

King of Ithaca, you have been through many trials and Hera takes

pity on you. She sends me with a message. The Man in Red sends

his minions after your wife Penelope. If you take these winged

sandals, the Talaria, and fly home, you will arrive in time.”

Odysseus turns and looks to the darkened city of Callirrhoe. He

turns back and reaches for the winged sandals.

It is shortly before midnight when Jesus takes leave of his

war council. They consist of his disciples, some city leaders, and

the Captain of the archers from Jericho. Jesus is worried about

Mary and he hurries to Cameron’s tavern, and that blasted nursery

rhyme comes to mind again. One, two, Santa’s coming for you He

arrives to find the bar keep pouring drinks for a few patrons too

frightened to sleep, but Mary is not here. Three, four, better lock

your door There is a strange line across the ceiling and down the

wall. The charred line cuts right through the bar. Thin tendrils of

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smoke still rise from the scorched wood. Jesus’ stomach tightens

into a knot. Five, six, get your crucifix The barkeep looks up sees

Jesus and the bottle slips from his hand. Jesus traces the razor

edge cut with his finger, without looking up he asks what

happened here. The barkeep recounts what he found when he

returned, some knocked over bar stools, the strange rift in the bar.

He tells of evidence of a struggle and an absent Mary, Seven,

eight, there’s no escape then he reaches below the bar and hands

Jesus a crumpled up green cloth. Jesus unfolds it and sees a

gnomish looking cap. He knows that this is the work of his arch

enemy, the Man in Red, Santa Claus. Nine, ten, Santa’s full again

Jesus asks for a glass of water and the barkeep obliges.

Jesus presses his finger to the side of the glass and the water turns

red. He wraps his hand around the glass, lifts it to his lips, tilts his

head back and communion shall pass. Jesus says, “Fill it up

again.”

On any other night the bartender would make a comment

about Jesus being a cheapskate, but not tonight. Tonight he holds

his tongue and pours Jesus more water which is blessed and turns

to wine. Jesus and the bartender hold communion in this fashion

for the rest of the night.

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Chapter 2.

Here Comes Santa Claus

“But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who

persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in

heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and

sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” – Jesus Christ

ow we will visit the Man in Red. Until this point he has

remained a mystery. Primarily because he is so evil your

narrator has been too scared to write about him. But we

are at the point in the story where he is going to show up whether

Odysseus and Penelope, poor Mary, the citizens of Callirrhoe, or

even your narrator like it or not. So without further

procrastination, here comes Santa Claus.

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Santa Claus is standing inside a darkened tent with his

back to us. To his left on the dirt floor is a fire pit made of neatly

constructed obsidian rock. There is a fire burning inside and the

edges of the obsidian glow transparent. A cauldron of boiling

water is hanging from a tripod over Santa’s cook fire. You hear

the tap tap tap of a mincing butcher’s knife. Santa is an imposing

figure; a red jacket is stretched tight across his broad shoulders.

He wears red leather pants tucked into knee high polished black

boots. The tap tap tap stops and Santa lays down his bloodied

butcher’s knife. He scoops up a handful of ground meat and

shapes it into a ball. He drops the meatball into the bubbling

water. Santa stirs the cauldron with a large spoon.

After a few minutes, he scoops out a steaming ball of

meat, sprinkles some salt on it, and takes a bite. Meat juice runs

from the corners of his mouth into a great mostly white beard.

Chewing a mouthful of hot flesh, Santa walks out of the tent. In

his absence you see Santa’s work station. His butchers block rests

on a podium that stands about four feet tall and is about a foot in

diameter. It has legs of intricately carved bone and is stained a

deep shade of crimson. On the floor surrounding this evil

butcher’s block is a pile of long wavy brown hair. Hanging on the

wall are trimmed cuts of leg and arm. One of the legs has the

bone ends sawed off and the marrow has been sucked out. Ribs

lay in a pan of brine on a counter cluttered with jars of spices.

Intestines hang on a hook suspended from the peaked ceiling of

this nightmarish tent. A pair of eyes connected to a brain

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connected to a coiled up spinal cord are in a pickling jar. A skull

resides in a heiroglyphed earthenware pot filled with beetles. In a

few weeks the beetles will have devoured the bits of remaining

flesh, leaving behind a bleached

white skull. In one corner a pair of leather sandals lay on

top of a discarded wool dress. One of the sandals has a torn

leather strap. Next to the pile of clothes is a crucifix knotted onto

a fine piece of hemp braid. The necklace was a gift from Jesus to

Mary, on her 16th birthday.

I must backtrack slightly and tell you what happened to

Mary before Santa Claus murdered her and ate her, but to do so I

need to introduce to you some of Santa’s little helpers: the Sex

Gnomes. There exists in this world a type of creature so vile, that

the bards of Callirhoe only sing about on certain holidays that

only observers of time scales on Jupiter would appreciate. That is

to say they rarely tell tales of this sort. This creature’s dual drive

in life is to murder and rape. Mutilation of the body and spirit is

their domain.

They are the Sex Gnomes,

they run in packs,

and have bite and stab attacks,

along with trans-dimensional shifts,

and cum shots that never miss.

They are the Sex Gnomes

They are pure evil and answer only to the Man in Red

Poor Mary, Jesus was late, and now she’s dead.

Anyways, here is what happened before Santa ate Mary.

Mary was sitting entirely alone at the tavern called

Cameron’s. Even the barkeep went to hear Jesus speak. Jesus the

dinosaur hunter, the attention seeker, the son of God, the man

who has to save the world but not Mary. Mary is here in this dark

tavern, while her man is off somewhere preparing to die to save

everyone but her. The only source of light comes from a solitary

candle flickering on the bar in front of Mary. Mary’s cup had long

run dry. She stares at the perfectly straight grains of the iron wood

used to make the bar top. The wood had been lacquered and looks

wet in the dancing flame. A sliver of yellow light appears. It

knifes a line across the ceiling, down the wall, and cuts the bar in

two. The light brightens and expands into a door way. Queue the

music. Mary is blinded; she doesn’t see the small greasy gnomes

scurrying through. They are the Sex Gnomes, ah do run run, ah

do run run! She feels a hundred clammy hairy hands clamp

around her legs and arms. They are the Sex Gnomes, ah do run

run, ah do run run! With a scream she jumps off her stool and

falls backwards tumbling over little bodies. They are the Sex

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Gnomes, ah do run run, ah do run run! The gnomes drag her

through the now shrinking doorway of light and the music fades

away. Mary the sacrificial love has entered a realm where awful

things happen and thus leaves our story. And with greater sadness

we return to Santa Claus.

Outside the tent a deep bellied laugh sounds out. Santa is

ringed by ten or so elves. He’s giving them final battle orders.

They bow and walk away. Each in a different direction and each

with a malignant missive of deadly deeds. Santa’s campsite is

bustling at this early hour. The rising sun is brightening the sky to

a shade of red in the east. Santa strides over to a sleigh harnessed

to a team of eight pterosaurs. He tosses a large bag in the back of

the sleigh and climbs aboard. Mounted to the sleigh is a massive

war horn. Santa slowly inhales; his giant chest expands until one

button trembles before popping free, and hitting a stable hand in

the eye. Santa lets out his foul breath and the war horn begins to

wail. The sound is taken up when the team of pterosaurs screech

as they lift Santa’s sleigh into the sky. Mighty brontosauruses add

to the cry of war as they hurl massive boulders at the city’s walls.

The rest of the dinosaur army marches on the city gates. The sun

rises and illuminates a charging dinosaur horde.

Jesus bolts upright and presses his hands to his ears. A

shrill noise pierces his brain and rattles his teeth. The wailing

continues for what seems like a life time. In its wake is a high

pitched ringing felt deep in the skull of every citizen in

Callirrhoe. More so felt in Jesus because of the throbbing in his

head brought about by drinking too much wine. He reaches over

for Mary, and stops. The sudden aching in his heart makes him

forget about the pain in his head. A faint crashing sound reaches

Jesus and he springs out of bed. He tosses on his robe and grabs

his staff before exiting his chambers. Jesus wades through a sea

of palace servants, towards a balcony and looks for the source of

the noise. The crashing is coming from the other side of the city

wall; Santa’s attack is under way. Jesus can make out people

scrambling up the wall to the ramparts. From the palace, Jesus

watches a company of archers loose a volley of arrows. A large

boulder, launched from a trebuchet, chases after the arrows. Jesus

runs out of the palace and on to the stables.

Stable hands have Jesus’ pteranodon saddled and seeing

his arrival one of them holds a stirrup still. Jesus steps in and

mounts his winged dinosaur. With a shake of the reins the

pteranodon begins a lumbering run, leathery wings unfurl and

oscillate up and down. The pteranodon lets out a shriek and soars

into the sky. Jesus circles the palace and sees the people of

Callirrhoe heading towards the city gates. His heart swells with

pride in seeing the determination of the people. Jesus glides over

to the wall and lands near the gate house. A few disciples rush

over.

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Peter says, “Jesus there is no sign of Odysseus, we sent

runners to the harbor, but they have not returned.”

Jesus feels deep in his heart that his friend Odysseus is

gone. “We must not wait for him. Begin the counterattack now,”

Jesus says.

Jesus snaps the reins and with great effort the pteranodon

lifts into the sky. From his vantage point Jesus surveys the

battlefield. The sun climbing over the horizon illuminates a

terrifying scene. There is a team of triceratops coming up the

main road to the gate. A battering ram is harnessed to eight of

them. The triceratopses are outfitted with armor plating to protect

them from the murder holes above the gate. A staircase winds up

from the valley floor to a smaller side gate. And a single file

precession of velociraptors with elvish riders is making their way

up. A great many brontosauruses are fanned out along the valley

floor. They are using their tails to hurl large rocks at and over the

walls of Callirrhoe. Santa’s dinosaur horde outnumbers

Callirrhoe’s defenders ten to one.

Jesus watches Santa swoop low in his sleigh as he makes a

pass over a section of wall. Santa drops a fist sized ball among the

defenders on the wall, it explodes violently. One defender is flung

over the wall and tumbles down the cliff and is lost among the

dinosaur throng below. Santa reaches into his bag and brings out

another grenade. He brings his sleigh about for another pass;

Jesus turns his pteranodon to intercept. The great pteranodon

slams into the team of smaller pterosaurs. In a tangled mass of

leathery wings and harnesses, Santa and Jesus spiral out of

control. They crash into the wall. Jesus’ broken pteranodon lies

across his legs; he struggles to free himself. Laying there

helplessly he hears a deep bellied laugh that chills him to his core.

“Ho, Ho, Ho” Santa bellows. The Man in Red looms over Jesus.

A huge black boot stomps down on Jesus’ face, his vision clouds

over and the din of battle is replaced by ringing once again. Three

arrows pierce into Santa’s great chest and he stumbles to one knee

as the archers from Jericho rush to Jesus’ aid. Santa waves his

hand, and in a screen of smoke, disappears. The archers help

Jesus to his feet and escort him down off the wall and to a make

shift infirmary.

A great splintering sound is heard as the city gate is

broken down. Many triceratops pour into the city. They are

funneled two by two down the gate road. Citizens of Callirrhoe

lie in ambush among the buildings. A war horn sounds and the

citizens spring their trap and rain down stones and arrows and

spears. The dinosaurs fall dead and are trampled by another wave

of triceratops. Again, projectiles rain down on the dinosaurs.

Wave after wave of triceratops fall into the deadly trap. The gate

road turns into a mushy stew of frothy blood and dinosaur parts.

A midwife finishes bandaging Jesus’ wounds. He thanks

her and rushes back into battle. Jesus wades through broken

bodies to the heart of the battle. All around him is death and

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devastation. He reaches a broken gate and is met by mounted

velociraptors. Jesus extends his left arm towards the oncoming

attack and loaves of bread and mackerel spring from his hand.

They fly through the air and pelt the elvish riders. The loaves and

fishes disorient the riders and they crash into one another,

wedging themselves in the gate. Defenders pour burning oil

through the murder holes above the gate and the sickly sweet

smell of frying flesh fills the air.

A large section of wall collapses from the relentless

barrage of brontosaurus launched boulders. A boulder flies

through the newly vacated space and slams into the palace.

Another section of wall comes down and hundreds of filthy Sex

Gnomes flood in. Jesus rushes to meet them. With a spinning

staff, he battles the gnomish horde. Little gnomes are flung back

down the cliffs. As fast as they pour in Jesus beats them back. He

is a blur of swirling robes and spinning staff, and radiating away

from him in every directions are Sex Gnomes. Every now and

then a gnome sinks its teeth into an arm or leg. Most of the

wounds are superficial, but they are beginning to take a toll on

Jesus. A group of archers rush to Jesus’ aid. They yell for him to

move aside and let loose a suppressive barrage of arrows. A

disciple rushes to Jesus’ side and giving a shoulder of support

leads him towards the palace.

“I have never seen such destruction,” Jesus says.

The disciple grunts as he bears Jesus’ weight. “There is so

much death on both sides. Such a waste of life,” Jesus says.

They enter the palace and are greeted by Peter. Jesus says

“What news of Santa Claus? He has been absent from this battle

for too long.”

Peter shakes his head from side to side. “We have nearly

defeated the dinosaur attack, all that remains are a few scattered

herds,” Peter says.

A young man throws the doors open and yells, “Santa is

attacking the temple. He means to take the children.”

With renewed strength Jesus flees the palace and runs to

the temple, with a few disciples and the Jericho archers. At the

temple, midwives and nuns in charge of protecting the children

lean out windows and toss down anything they can pick up. Santa

and a few elves are beating on the barricaded door, they turn to

face Jesus. Four Elves stand in front of Santa, ready to die for

their master, and they do when four arrows sprout from their

necks, courtesy of Jericho. The disciples press in and drop Santa

to his knees. Jesus looms above a defeated Santa.

Jesus says, “What have you done with Mary?”

At this point part of Mary is passing from Santa’s stomach

into his small intestine. Bile is just beginning to break down the

fat that used to keep Mary warm, while Jesus was off somewhere

dying for mankind.

Mary is now what nutritionists call chyme.

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Santa lets out a disgusting belch that jiggles his rotund

belly. “I ate her.”

Jesus breathes the thought of removing Santa’s head from

his shoulders away and says, “I should kill you.”

Santa says, “You won’t.”

“You’re right; you will be banished to the northern most

part of this world where there is an ice prison reserved for the

worst of mankind. Take him away.”

“Your prison won’t hold me.” Santa replies, “I’m time

eternal. I was here when the magic of creation faded and I’ll be

here when time runs out. Who are you to banish me?”

“I am the son of God,”

“I am Santa Claus. I am time eternal. I was here long

before you and I will be here long after you kill yourself.”

“Many have claimed to be the son of God before you,”

Santa says, “and many will follow. You are not special.”

Jesus blesses Santa’s chin with a roundhouse kick Chuck

Norris would appreciate and Santa sees a million twinkling lights.

Santa struggles to his knees and says, “Ho, Ho… (cough),

Hic… (spit) You’re insane, you are going to die believing you’re

a fictional character.”

‘I,” Jesus says, “am not a fictional character!”

“Yes,” Santa says, “you are.”

“You are all that is wrong in this world, you cannibal, you

sinner of sinners, you glutton, you sloth, you thief, you rapist, you

murderer!” Jesus pauses for a breath and unclenches his fists.

Santa’s lips draw back in a malevolent smile and he says,

“I know you are, but what am I?”

Jesus draws his hand across his throat and two disciples

pick up a bound and bloodied Santa and lead him away.

Women and children spill out of the temple and prostrate

themselves before their savior. Jesus raises his hands to give a

blessing but wobbles and falls face first to the ground. The

women rush over and carefully pull back his robes sticky with

blood, revealing a body covered in wounds. Only a few still weep

and even those are slowing to a trickle. Jesus dies.

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Chapter 3.

Resurrection.

“No matter how dark the night, somehow the sun rises

once again and all shadows are chased away” – David Matthew

Click.

arkness washes over the Jesus. He feels weightless,

adrift. A brilliant white light blooms and shapes begin to

form. Light radiates out in all directions and clouds of

gas spill out. Jesus feels connected to every bit of light and matter

radiating outwards. God. Gravity. In every direction Jesus see

clouds of gas speeding away from him they get fainter and fainter.

He wills himself to follow the nearest cloud. The cloud is

beginning to form tiny points of light that grow bright then wink

out. Trillions of tiny lights spiral around each other and Jesus

draws closer. He is drawn to one of the outer spiral arms. A single

point of light out of the trillions beckons him onwards. He sees

motes of dust orbiting the yellow ball of light. The dust is

flattening into a spinning disk. Within the disk spheres are

forming from the accumulation of matter. Jesus focuses on one

near the yellow ball of light. He sees blue and white swirls on the

surface. He gets closer and observes more colors, browns and

greens stand out. Moving closer he recognizes mountains and

rivers. Closer still, he watches life forms crawl out of the water

and populate the land. In the blink of an eye he sees empires rise

and fall. God and Gravity. The ball of light swells and engulfs the

world. The giant sphere shudders and explodes, spreading matter

deep into the cosmos. Jesus is once again left alone in the

darkness. In every direction the far off clumps of light stop

expanding and reverse direction. All light and matter in the

universe are converging back into a single point. Again Jesus sees

only blinding light, then darkness. God, Gravity, Gangnam Style.

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The universe manifested itself as Jesus. He came into

existence and left it a short time later.

From darkness came light came darkness.

Be kind, rewind.

Three days come and pass and twelve disciples stand at a

crypt. Behind a wall of granite a meter thick, Jesus lays

entombed. Behind the disciples stand 10,000 followers of Christ

anxiously awaiting the resurrection of their savior. The gutters are

still stained with the aftermath of insurgency. The people want to

be resolved, praise Jesus.

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The disciple Peter directs a grave tender to open the crypt.

The massive door creaks open on protesting hinges. The smell of

rot seeps out.

Paul steps up with a lantern and puts his hand on Peter’s

shoulder. Peter lets out a breath he was unaware he was holding,

and they both start into the tomb. A foul gust of wind stirs and

extinguishes the flame ten paces inside. Peter lets out a shriek and

runs out, clutching his wrist. He is bitten. Something in the tomb

bit Peter. Paul does not come out.

The crowd is strung dangerously tight. The disciples light

ten lanterns and start for the cave just as Jesus comes staggering

out. The disciples are frozen in horror, as this decrepit Jesus

lurches forward. Jesus sinks his teeth into a lesser known

disciples neck and the two disciples next to him grab this, what,

this dare I say, Zombie Jesus. Someone in the crowd screams,

“OH MY GOD, Jesus has come back a Zombie!!!” With this the

crowd disperses, and in a twist of fate, the people of Callirhoe are

left to ruin only days after their triumphant victory over Santa

Claus’ dinosaur army.

Some citizens flee immediately for fairer pastures. Your

narrator is among this group as I am only concerned with the

Jesus who hunts dinosaurs. I give not an instant of thought to

chronicling the events following the Zombie Jesus and the

citizens of Callirhoe, but maybe the archers from Jericho stick

around to fight.

The End.

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