4.12 - Judas and The Righteous
Wesley’s room is a mess. Broken furniture, clothes and items tossed across the room. If I didn’t know better I would have thought the cops came and raided the place. I tossed him on the bed, but he wouldn’t let me leave. I’ve never taking care of people, and I don’t know if I’m good at it. Nobody has ever trusted me to take care of them. I wasn’t exactly well taken care of so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I brought him a glass of water, that’s always they first thing they do in movies. I place a cold towel on his forehead because I’ve seen that before. Wait, isn’t that something for fevers? I don’t know, I toss the towel away, he’ll be fine.
“Bible,” Wesley mumbles pointing towards a corner of the room.
“You want a Bible? I think you should sleep.”
“Bible,” he keeps pointing.
I dig through the luggage in the corner before I find a large red bible, gold pages and heavier than any book I’ve ever read before. I toss the Bible on his chest, causing him to flinch. He hugs the book, clutching it as if it was a treasure, closing his eyes and smiling. It’s somewhat unsettling just how much he seems to care for that book.
“Have you ever tried to kill yourself,” Wesley asks me, his voice sounds rough but he doesn’t seem to be in any pain.
“Vampires can’t commit suicide.”
“How would you know, unless you tried?”
“I never tried to commit suicide. Didn’t make sense.”
“Why not,” he keeps pushing for more answers.
“Because I didn’t fuck up my life, other people did. Why would I kill myself? I’d just be dead, but killing them would solve the problem.”
“Do you know why Judas committed suicide after he betrayed Jesus?”
“Because he was a shitty friend,” I take a seat on his dresser.
“No, a lot of people think it was because he betrayed Jesus and all of his friends, but that wasn’t it. Judas killed himself because he was seeking redemption for his sin. Some sins are so great, you can only recover by killing yourself,” Wesley smiles as he talks about suicide, it creeps me out. This must be how he felt when he found the body.
“Did your book tell you to kill yourself? Because if it did, that’s a stupid book.”
“This book,” he opens it and flips through pages, “has so much guidance, it couldn’t possibly stupid. The knowledge held within this book has been passed down for centuries, a shining beacon of what humanity should be.”
“Yeah, call me when they make it a movie.”
“I’m serious,” he quickly flips through pages before stopping. “For I am convinced that neither dead nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, no powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39,” he finishes and starts flipping pages again.
“I don’t get it.”
“It means that nothing, can separate us from God unless God wants it to.”
“Okay,” this is getting awkward.
He flips to another section, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles but The Lord delivers him from them all. Psalms 34:18-19.”
“What does righteous mean?”
“A morally just, virtuous or good person.”
“And what does that have to do with you playing rodeo with your neck?”
“It means you delivered me from my darkest hour. God sent you, to deliver me from my troubles.”
“I didn’t deliver you from anything.”
“But you did. God put you here on earth to rescue me. Jesus Christ is my savior, but he worked through you tonight.”
“No, I just kept you from dying. There was no message from God telling me to go get you. I don’t even have Jesus’ phone number and I don’t think he’d pick up if serial killing vampire called.”
“Just because you don’t recognize him working through you, doesn’t mean that he didn’t. Something brought you to me tonight.”
“I think you need to get some rest.”
“I do, but I think you should also read this Bible,” he extends it to me. “Read it, learn what God wants from you, as he works through you.”
The whole conversation is getting odd. He’s getting out of the bed and trying to keep pushing this book at me. I’ve got no plans for reading it but he keeps going on and on about how I saved him. He really needs to be resting and I can’t take much more of this. I don’t know how to take care of people, but I know how to hurt people. I’m good at hurting people. I could kill Wesley right now and he’d get his wish. He’d be dead, and I’d prove I’m not some helping hand sent from God. But, I don’t want to kill him. I’m not sure why. Everything about him makes him killable. He asks too many questions, tries to push religion on me, and he’s afraid of my shadow on most days. Something in the back of my head is telling me if I killed him, I’d feel bad about it.
As Wesley stands in front of me, placing the Bible in my lap, and a hand on my knee my mind is made up. I don’t like being touched, and I know how to treat people who touch me. It doesn’t take much, a flick of my finger to his forehead and his eyes roll into the back of his head before he folds onto the floor like an omelet. He’s not dead, but he’s knocked out and that gives me some time to think. I toss his limp body on the bed again. I’m the killer here, but as he’s spread across the bed, passed out he looks like the monster. He doesn’t have fangs or a stomach full of blood like I do, but something about him makes me feel weird. It isn’t fear, because I know I can kill him with no trouble, but something just isn’t right about him.
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