I’m sure I broke a rule and this is technically ‘fanfiction,’ but I’d already written it out and kind of enjoyed the writing. It’s a piece from my Jesus Undead Slayer, but from Jesus’s POV rather than my MC, Hayden. Hehe. The challenge was to start it out with [ ] was the most irritating person [ ] had ever met. Under 500 words. Mine came out at 499!
Simon was the most irritating person Jesus had ever met.
“Simon,” Jesus said again, louder. The group of Undead poured into the sanctuary, leaping on and tearing to pieces the men those closest to the broken doors. Meanwhile, Simon was heading for one of the side exits, ignoring the screams of dying men. Just like old times.
“That—that Simon? Impossible,” Pastor Tim sputtered, ringing his hands.
“Once a coward,” Jesus sighed. His hand closed around the hilt resting between his shoulder blades as he began striding across the stage. The boy who had brought him water moments before backed away now, but he didn’t look nearly as frightened as his father, the Pastor.
Jesus slid the sword out of its scabbard. The blade was only a foot long and ended in a ragged broken edge. That didn’t matter though. The power of the Wardens coursed through his body, the power to Heal.
He stepped past the podium, and the podium exploded into splinters. Those splinters whirled around Jesus, then his sword, bonding to the steel and extending the blade out it was longer than most men were.
Several people gasped, those too dumb to realize they should run. These were the people who ‘worshipped’ him? Gods, no wonder they were so unprepared. Jesus was of a mind to leave them, let them slow down this advance vanguard.
And then he felt the boy beside him.
“Hayden, is it?” Jesus asked, stalking down the steps.
“Yes sir, I want to help.” Hayden’s voice was shaky, but strong.
Jesus smiled. Of course the boy wanted to help. He felt old blood beating in the veins of the lad, old familiar blood. Judas, maybe? That would be a relief, to know his brother had survived his sacrifice.
“Help by getting those out of here,” Jesus said, nodding to his left. It seemed more of the elderly had gathered there, and were staring dumbfounded first at Jesus, no doubt a spectacle in his leather armor, and then at the Undead who were feasting on their ‘brothers and sisters.’
“Yes sir,” the boy said and dashed off, already yelling at people to follow him. Good. As for the rest… it was time they learned the true meaning behind ‘Lion of Judah.’
Wood and steel sword held at his side, Jesus sprinted down the center aisle. Several rotting heads looked up, giblets and gore dangling from swollen jaws, but they were too slow. He leapt into the air, bringing his now-massive blade up and over his head, then down, right into the center of the mass of bodies.
The sword exploded outwards in bright fibers, but immediately it remade itself, out of bones and flesh, and Jesus struck again. The blade arced high and came down with enough force to crack stone. Body parts, both human and Undead, flew outward and coated what was left of the congregation.
Two thousand years was a long time, but it was a new day. A dark day.