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Go Do What You Must Do
Judas
Was one of the 12 disciples of Jesus Christ, the christian savior and son of god. "Go do what youo must do." are the words Jesus Christ spoke to the betrayer, the night of the last supper. What did it mean? The answer still eludes us to this day. Before Jesus Christ's statement to Judas he spoke these words to the gathering at the last supper; "One of you has betrayed me this night."
Later, Judas lead the Romans to the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus Christ had been praying. Judas took a measly thirty silver pieces for the betrayal of Jesus, worth much more. Once again, Why?
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1987
An archeological expedition into the middle east has discovered something amazing. The Gospel of Judas, the betrayer of Jesus Christ. Is it a gospel?
There is no cut and dry answer. Fundametalists among the Christian faith say no, Judas chose a path against Jesus, he doesn't count. Others say differently.
The most odd part about the original manuscripts is that there seems to be a large portion of it completely torn away. Tests reveal that it was done recently. As the years go by, the gospel isn't published and instead drifts from household to household, each time being resold for an ungodly profit. By 1990, another 15 pages have disappeared completely from the manuscript. Those that have a tendancy to see more conspricies then truths say that the cataholic church had torn away pages that it deemed hurtful to their organization. Others say that it has been systematically dismantled by it's owners. Once again, we don't know.
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2010
Fredrick Von Schlater was very wealthy. He had more money then he could ever use, even if he was immortal. Of course Fredrick Von Schlater He was a tall man, six feet four inches tall in his stocking feet. Fredrick Von Schlater was unparalelled in strength and endurance, bulging muscles stretched even tailor made shirts. His bald head was nothing to laugh at, when you noticed he sports a vicious moustache that comes to such sharp points, on either side of his hawk-like nose, that it gives the appearance it could cut diamonds with ease. Dark blue eyes are set wide apart on his Chrome-Dome.
His dress was informal this night, as Fredrick Von Schlater pulled his Ferarri sports car into the driveway, outside a large house on the outskirts of Paris. Already sitting in the driveway was a sleek black limo. Fredrick's flame red car clashed with the shining black limousine. He knew who was in the house at this time. Andrea Ackart, the rich young buisnesswoman who sold him the manuscript which rode in a briefcase beside him on the passenger's seat. She would be sleeping now, she would never suspect him.
Andrea Ackart was by all accounts an attractive woman, but Fredrick didn't pay any mind to this, as he silently opened his car door and stepped out onto the grass beside the front door. She was tall for a woman, at five feet eleven inches tall, all of it smooth legs and fair skin. Her heart shaped face would invoke immediate images of gloomy bedchambers light by a fireplace, to all but Fredrick Von Schlater.
She was a careful woman, her front door was locked as was the backdoor. A sign on the lawn reported that she was protected by a security company. Instead of trying a direct approach, Fredrick Von Schlater walked a full circuit of the house once. On his second trip he heard the low grumble of a dog readying itself to charge. He had done it before, it was a practiced movement, a quick side step to the right, a deliberate grab for the silenced Sig Sauer P226 and the low report of a bullet striking flesh. The dog never even whimpered, as it's entire head became the adorning of one of the house's walls.
The house his prey lived in was old, so old that it ran on a circuit breaker system. A simple fllip of an outside sqitch would cause the entire house to fall into pitch blackness. Frerdrick Von Schlater flipped that switch. The security company would never know until they found her body, how incompetant they truly were. And Andrea? She was sleeping and would not know the power went out.
From a pocket in his black coat Fredrick Von Schlater produced a small object that had a hook at the end of it. Fredrick unfolded it, before opening the back door to Andrea Ackart's house just enough to know there was a chainlock. The little instrument latched onto the bolt that latched into a mechanism that kept the door shut against intruders. It slid across and unlocked easily.
Fredrick slipped out of his shoes, they would make a noise on the stairs. As silent as death, Fredrick Von Schlater ascended the stairs.
The blonde hair of Andrea Ackart was visible in the dim half-light created by the Paris skyline. As the german came upon her, his breath slowed so that you could not hear it. He closed the door behind him and used a bath rode draped over a nearby chair to sound proof the room by shoving it under the door.
It was not that Schlater did not have th emoney to have this done by someone else, far from it, he did it himself because there would be no witnesses.
With a gloved hand, he retrieved a pair of zip ties and a plastic sheet. Making no noise, Fredrick Von Schlater wrapped the Sig Sauer with the plastic and then used a single zip tie to attatch it to his wrist. No slug would be found, if he was forced to fire.
The black clad figure made a sinister shadow, the lights of Paris shown through the translucent curtains, as he lurked beside the woman's bed. This was the part Fredrick Von Schlater enjoyed the most, the fear.
Andrea Ackart did not know she was about to die, until she felt the tear of a zip tie biting into the soft flesh of her neck. Fredrick had done this many times before, the zip tie was just tight enough to cause panic in the victim and cause them to throw themselves from bed in any direction. it was to tight to take off, but to loose to completely cut off oxygen flow. Andrea Ackart fought against the zip tie, without the air to scream in desperation and fear.
Schlater watched with mounting excitement as Andrea, wearing a simple and revealing shift, stumbled around her large bedroom trying in vain to save herself. It was not until the blonde haired woman collapsed that Fredrick rose from where he had sat at the edge of her bed. She was not unconscious, far from it, in this state she was completely aware. Schlater smiled "You cheated me, Andrea. After all we did together, I offer you a parting gift and you cheat me."
The dawning of recognition was visible in the victim's eyes, before she shook her head violently. Her golden tresses flew about her head, obscuring her face for a split second.
"You did, I counted. 15 pages." Andrea silently screamed in pain, as Fredrick's fist cracked two of her ribs "You promised me the complete gospel, Andrea, and you sent me 15 pages." Thump "Give!" Thump "Me!" Thump "The" Thump "Other" Thump "Pages!"
Each thumping pound to her rib cage caused the silenced Andrea to writhe in agony on the ground. It took a full fifteen minutes for her to finally point towards a painting on the wall.
Schlater moved the painting and behind it, recessed into the wall, was a black cardboard box. Fredrick smiled "Thank you, Andrea." The zip tie bit the blood from the neck of Andrea Ackart, as Fredrick Von Schlater tightened it to killing pressure.
Fredrick left the house with the cardboard box under his arm. Upstairs, Andrea Ackart lay dead, her beautiful face now pale and bloodless. It was not until Fredrick was in his Ferarri that he opened the box. Only five pages were inside. He was still missing forty pages. He knew now what he must do.
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Name: (I would hope you know that answer to this)
Age: (How many years have you been breathing?)
Occupation: (Treasure hunter? Private military security forces? Archeoligist? What can you bring to the search for the lost pages of The Gospel of Judas?)
Employer: (Who do you work for?)
Weapons: (If applicable)
College: (If Applicable)
Bio: (Tell us how you got here!)
Age: (How many years have you been breathing?)
Occupation: (Treasure hunter? Private military security forces? Archeoligist? What can you bring to the search for the lost pages of The Gospel of Judas?)
Employer: (Who do you work for?)
Weapons: (If applicable)
College: (If Applicable)
Bio: (Tell us how you got here!)
Name: Jack McAlister Carlyle "Rowdy"
Age: 29
Occupation: Private Military
Employer: TAR Industries
Weapons: 45 Caliber ACP Automag pistol.
College: N/A
Bio: Bio: Born on a cold morning in the pacific northwest, he was christened Jack Mcalister Carlyle. As a child he was an untouchable, neither unpopular or popular. Instead he floated in the middle, seen by none but seeing everything. This turned from a running joke with himself into a habit and, when he graduated high school with straight A's, he was given a scholarship to go to the school of his choice, but Jack MCalister Carlyle turned it down. What Jack did, was apply to a trucking company and learn to operate a semi truck, just as his father had. He worked for a time, but his heart was never in it. At 23 he applied to the Central Intelligence Agency. The rest is classified, was eaten or burned.
Age: 29
Occupation: Private Military
Employer: TAR Industries
Weapons: 45 Caliber ACP Automag pistol.
College: N/A
Bio: Bio: Born on a cold morning in the pacific northwest, he was christened Jack Mcalister Carlyle. As a child he was an untouchable, neither unpopular or popular. Instead he floated in the middle, seen by none but seeing everything. This turned from a running joke with himself into a habit and, when he graduated high school with straight A's, he was given a scholarship to go to the school of his choice, but Jack MCalister Carlyle turned it down. What Jack did, was apply to a trucking company and learn to operate a semi truck, just as his father had. He worked for a time, but his heart was never in it. At 23 he applied to the Central Intelligence Agency. The rest is classified, was eaten or burned.
Rowdy was not seen or heard from again for 5 years. What happened was never released, talked about or even acknowledged it's existance. This time, Jack was behind the wheel of a semi truck, a Peterbilt. The nickname "Rowdy" was hung on him when he busted an accustic guitar over the head of a dispatcher who had screwed him out of a lot of money.
In the winter of 2010, Oliver Fontane from the private sector approached him in an E-Mail. The private military business was booming and with the rapidlly escalating war in the Middle East his company was hiring Private Operators. Blackwater, G4S and other less reputable PMCs had deployed thousands of men into the field. All told,the Private Military had an Army just as large, or larger, then any country.
Jack's company was small. Compared to Black Water and G4S, who's roster accounted for two thirds of the military personel deployed, about two hundred thousand operators, Oliver Fontane's company was a speck. TAR Industries, Oliver Fontane's brainchild, had only 300 operaters deployed, but TAR had some of the best.
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Why did Judas betray Jesus of Nazareth for such a small amount of silver? What were the words behind Jesus' words to Judas?
Is it possible, that without Judas the easter miracle of Jesus rising from the dead would never have happened?
Does that make Judas part of God's plan for his son, Jesus Christ? If so, can you blame Judas for his actions, if they were commanded by the lord?
Answer these questions with a little kindness and some Sympathy For The Devil.
Desert Eagle .50AE with flash supressor (Obtainable
