The Write Place

“We tried that legion, and it got you cast into swine,” said the shadowy figure.

“Why not through his disciples once more. Offer him the easy path,” moaned the red eyes that stood before him.

“That never worked. At least not as we have tried,” the dark figure brushed it’s wings against it’s scaley side “Not through Peter, that we know. The incarnate one desires the cross.”

“Our greatest weapon, where he can bear the curse…” added another shadow, taking the form of a bearded man. “All the riches we could offer, and he still held to what the Holy One said.”

“He is the Holy One, he will not deny himself,” strode in the shape of a woman, her eyes bright, haunting red. “What does the king prescribe?”

“I have spoken to the Father Asherah. He will not permit their deaths but we will sift his followers as wheat. There is one I have my eye upon, even more than his hands are in the purse. We shall strike at Judah.”

The bearded entity floated towards the seated dragon. His flight was effortless, his presence cold.

“Ah, Judah. The Jerusalemite has a love for the riches offered in the wilderness does he not?” observed the humanoid shape.

“Enough Baal, to take from his rabbi,” said the Serpent. “It will not be difficult. He will hand him over. An endeavor I will take upon myself.”

“You could not defeat God by contending with his righteous servant Job, you believe the defeat of the Son is possible?”

The dragon snarled, looking for the voice that had spoken had been one he knew well.

“Michael… Of course you would show yourself here.”

“Soon enough you will not show your face anywhere fallen one, save in the fire,” said the descending angel.

“Why do you make an appearance in my council?” retorted the Dragon between a hissing tongue.

“Your council only exists because the Holy One permits it. Now that you are forbidden to enter his throne room I have come to deliver good news, whether it is good news for you or not.”

“Hold your tongue.”

“I forgot you alone were permitted to speak harsh words, except when they are deserved. And they are,” said the Seraph, gliding to face the dragon. Their wings flapped in opposition.

“Speak and be done with it,” said the hissing voice of the Serpent.

“YHWH has permitted your request for Judah Iscariot. The time has come.”

“Ah,” said the Accuser sitting up in his throne. “Behold, the trap is set. Now it shall be sprung.”

“I will see you when you fail,” said Michael.

“I will make him come down off that cross. He likes to vindicate his glory; I will give him the perfect opportunity.”

“By appealing to vanity? Odd of you to grant to others a trait you possess.”

“Then the grave will hold him,” bellowed the Dragon.

“Not for long, not a righteous man, and not without his willing. Go depart. The time for your end has come.”

“We shall see whose end it is.”

“Yes, we shall see whose head is crushed,” the angel smiled. The clouded dark figure of the dragon slithered from the room. He flew unseen to the upper room in a mudbrick house where a Jewish carpenter sat with twelve men. As the carpenter handed a piece of the unleavened bread to a man, the dragon, unseen by the twelve, entered the man.

“What you are going to do, do quickly,” said the Carpenter.