Jesus-ween: This Halloween your blood will be shed for Him
or “Jesus-ween: He comes for a second time.”
(Thank you for the images Dr Brimble!)
The time of year when the sun softens and the leaves are painted in different shades of crimson, gold, and copper. The air finally becomes crisp. It becomes something breathable. The time of year where everything wants to sell you pumpkin spiced anything. Apparently it’s also the time of year for vagrants to be nailed to trees in the middle of the woods.
Detective Daniels slowly scans his eyes over the scene. Crimson blood in the trees, blood in the dirt, blood on the leaves. “Lord have mercy,” Daniels pulls out a white handkerchief without taking his eyes off victim. “I’ve never seen such a mess.” The detective wiped his brow and covered his mouth as he noticed the blood still dripping from the leaves. “And the assailant did all this barefoot. Jesus Christ.”
***
The Pastor rocked against the pulpit to address his congregation. “As many of you may know, in place of Halloween our church organizes a camping trip each year to praise Christ.” Pastor John adjusted his waistline around his protruding belly. “Now we’re not trying to take over Halloween so no need for any of you pagans in the audience to get upset. Our church simply want to put a spotlight on Jesus at every opportunity and Halloween is a perfect time to do so with Jesus-ween1. Nods of approval snaked through the congregation. “Each year our members choose to celebrate Jesus-ween by passing out bibles, cross-shaped bookmarks, and “Footprints in the Sand” leaflets to trick-or-treating pagan children who were probably hoping for a full sized Snickers bar.” He adjusted his combover and chuckled, “Those sugar filled Snickers bars do nothing but rot their little teeth.” The pastor’s wife, Bonnie chuckled in agreement as she clucked out an “Amen.”
For a moment the old pastor’s eyes drifted onto a newcomer, Sharlene. Sharlene was Bonnie’s twin sister in name only. Sharlene was Bonnie’s twin if Bonnie jumped on a treadmill and didn’t have age lines from years of a sour face. Sharlene smiled as she gingerly fondled the pages of her prayer book. Her tits glowed, spotlighted by sun rays beaming through the stained glass window. Pastor Johnny wiped his sweaty brow and plowed on, “One day all of God’s children will be saved by our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and Lil’ Fink will shriek with delight, ‘Great! I got at least 30 Bibles! Can’t wait to read them all!’” Pastor John wiped his soaked brow, “I don’t know about you folks, but it’s never a bad time to be praising Jesus Christ. Never a bad time.” Preacher John raised his righteous hand, “Jesus will come again. No matter what time he comes, we’ll be ready. AMEN!”
Delighted by the sound of his own voice Pastor rolled on “In addition to passing out scripture, our church family will pack up their tents, sleeping bags, and most importantly, bibles and head for the woods for our annual Jesus-ween campout. Us Jesus-loving folk will gather ‘round a roaring camp fire to read the Lord’s word and praise Christ through gospel music.” Pastor John nodded his head to agree with his own words. “Unlike Halloween which aims to rot the souls and teeth of our youth, Jesus-ween heals and nourishes our youth. All are invited and please bring your friends along. Make sure they bring their Bibles. We’re gonna to have a blast.”
***
“The victim was decimated with nails” Pastor John sipped at his pumpkin spice chai tea from his “Jesus Saves” mug. Propped up at his lacquered rosewood dining table he carefully turned the page of his local newspaper, “Nails absolutely everywhere.” The Pastor chuckled, “Ouch !They found the wretched vagrant nailed to a tree in the middle of the woods not too far from here. His ear was found nailed to another tree about 30 feet away from where they found his pulverized body.” Another sip. “Gruesome. I guess the old drunk was sleeping it off when the attack happened. If you ask, me that homeless lowlife got what he deserved.” Another sip of pumpkin spice tea. “The cops only have footprints so far. Barefoot prints of all things.”
Bonnie pressed her lacquered lips and smirked “It’s probably yet another unsaved, predator teen running around with a hammer or something out there.” She continued to fold their sleeping bags and bulging backpacks. “It’s what happens when the Lord isn’t in these children’s lives.” Pastor glanced at his wife and back to his paper. After 26 years of marriage, the days of ogling his wife were long gone. “Bonnie? Dear, Don’t forget to pack extra bibles just in case any of those first-timers forget. Several of them always fail to bring ‘em and that’s about the only thing you can count on those people to do.”
Lugging backpacks behind her Bonnie mutters under her breath, “Hopefully Sharlene will remember to wear something other than whore-clothes.”
***
Through his grunting and sweaty brow, Pastor managed to ignite a healthy Jesus-ween camp fire just as the sun began to fall out of view and the air settled into something a bit more biting. Crimson leaves fell all around the freshly pitched tents and opened backpacks as the congregants busied themselves with s’more preparation and talked about the evening’s weather. A few newcomers thumbed through their borrowed bibles and kept their heads down in order to avoid such activities. Pastor wiped his hands on his camping shirt as his eye caught the sight of Sharlene. “Hello, Sharlene. It was lovely to see you on Sunday.” John adjusted his cargo shorts, “Glad you could make it.” Before another word could be said, Bonnie barreled over and whipped between the two.
“Bless your heart, Sharlene” Bonnie shoved in, “What do we have here? I see you’re a little under dressed this evening as always my dear sister. Maybe we can find you a rather large coat for you to wear.” Bonnie’s gaze at that moment could level a house. “Hardly appropriate for a camping trip. Remember to dress for the occasion next time, Honey.” With a sigh the old preacher turned to his members, clapped his hands and called the congregation together for an opening prayer.
Under a grey moon accessorized by a light blanket of stars, Jesus-ween campers shared their favorite good book passages and poems. Pastor’s eyes dragged across the group. As he sang his eyes were snagged yet again by Sharlene’s fuchsia push-up bra as her tits spilled over her yellow spaghetti strap top. Her protruding nipples seemed to dance as the fire continued to play with the shadows. Pastor Johnny continued to stare as a congregant read:
““In the greatness of your majesty
you threw down those who opposed you.
You unleashed your burning anger;
it consumed them like stubble.” —Exodus 15:7-8
Sharlene patted her borrowed bible and announced her departure from the fire to retrieve her jacket from her car as Pastor met his wife’s glaring eye. Preacher John quickly propped on his rehearsed smile and snapped back to the more banal setting surrounding him. The campers glowed in gold around the fire as passages and prayers rattled on into the evening. As the group began to sing “Holy, Holy, Holy,” Pastor heaved himself up to rekindle the flames. He announced, “I see we’ll need a bit more kindling. I’ll be right back folks.” Pastor grabbed his worn flashlight and shuffled through the trees.
***
The camper’s singing grew more distant until all he could hear were crickets. Pastor John scanned the ground for dry branches as his flashlight began to flicker. With a few branches in his arms Pastor felt a drop of rain on his forehead and then another and another. Paster peered up into the clear sky “How on Earth could it be raining?”
“Whats takin’ you so long, John? Out here looking for my sister’s nipples? I see they way you look at her!” Bonnie’s voice and her flashlight ripped through his moment of peace. With her flashlight squarely in her husband’s face, “What’s that all over your face John?”
In the beam of her flashlight Preacher dragged down a forehead droplet onto his fingers and stared. “It’s not raining. This…it’s…it’s blood.” Pastor dropped his kindling bundle and raced his flashlight beam into the tree branches above. The beam of light once again highlighted Sharlene’s tits but this time nails glimmered and shined from blood protruding through her bust as the crimson painted leaves continued to drip.
Bonnie’s realization gave way to a wail and sprint back to camp leaving her husband stunned and frozen in silence. Bonnie’s frantic dash outlined by a bobbing flashlight was suddenly halted. The sound of compressed air and piston ram instantly dropped Bonnie and her screaming to the ground. Silence.
***
Pastor’s hands trembled as he felt the seconds morph into something that felt like hours. As he fumbled for his cellphone both the phone and flashlight fell from his shaking hands and onto the leaf covered dirt. The landscape snapped to black as a shot of adrenaline allowed John to fall on his hands his knees as he desperately scrambled for light and help. Again and again his blinded, groveling hands came up empty.
Pastor’s hands froze yet again as he heard foot steps shuffle the leaves behind him. The crushing leaves and cracking twigs slowly amplified until he could hear them inches away. John slowly rotated around on his knees. “Bonnie? Is that you? Call the—”
Pastors eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he peered up at the man looming above him. Dressed in a spotless white robe and adored with a crown of thorns, John witnessed glowing gold rays radiating around the man from all directions. John continued to stare in frozen horror as Jesus Christ lifted his bloodied hand and pushed a large nail gun into John’s terror-streaked face. John managed to stammer out “Jesus Christ!”
Eyes spotlessly white and empty and a finger on the trigger, Jesus spoke “Behold. I have come for a second time and you will be my witness. You and your congregation has summoned me on the holiest days, Jesus-ween. I command you to go forth and speak of this miracle and the mercy I have allowed you on this night.”
With a shaken voice, John stammered “Now we don’t want no trouble. Jesus. We’ll do whatever you want. Please.”
Jesus lowered his light-weight, high-powered Wal-Mart nail gun and slowly stepped back into the darkness. In and instant John felt the flashlight against his hand and immediately grabbed onto it like a teddy bear in the dark. Pastor swayed as he hurried to get back on his feet and call for help.
Head down, John’s fingers fumbled with the flash light’s power switch. It felt like hours but Pastor managed and in an instant the flashlight flooded with light and instead of trees John found himself illuminating a nail gun aimed at his forehead.
“On second thought Pastor, I' changed my mind.” Jesus pulled the trigger unceremoniously as Pastor’s body hit the ground. “I think I’ll let the new-comers tell my story.”
“The War On Halloween” by Lucien Greaves: https://substack.com/home/post/p-150112791
Now THIS was a fun read! Well done.