Post by barabbas on Mar 27, 2008 12:52:24 GMT -5
Barrabas sits quietly head bowed beneath his cowl, face hidden as his hands are held before him. You can hear a faint whisper as though he is speaking to himself, or perhaps praying. Then his head lifts, and the hood is pushed back.
Cold eyes devoid of emotion stare at the camera, and then he speaks softly.
"Once there was a man who believed that Sports Entertainment was a scourge, a vile disease that was spreading it's taint to kill the very soul of the warrior."
Barrabas lifted his hands, staring at them before they lowered again. He shook his head.
"That only wrestling in it's purest form could redeem us, that only by facing our fellow warriors in true combat! That only by battling against the demons inside of us, by conquering them! Could we be called men! And Sports Entertainment--"
Those words are spoken with utter disdain, his lip curling.
"Made us less then men! And when one of your weak willed, pathetic Sports Entertainers killed themselves! When he lost to the demons inside of him, when he let the cancer of Sports Entertainment eat his soul! And he took his own life, who did you blame?"
Barrabas lowered his head, rubbing his clean shaven head before those dead eyes lifted again to the camera. "WHO DID YOU BLAME?"
He rose, robes falling away to reveal a massive and muscled form covered with scars. He shook his head, staring at the camera. "You blamed a man who fought to save us all from the disease of Sports Entertainment! You blamed a good man who tried to purify the soul of this diseased sport! You blamed Kyle Heaven!"
His hands rose, dragging across his head before he sat back down. He panted, shaking his head. "I must try to control my anger, that is my demon! I must not fail him, like all of you have failed him! Because I will force all of you to accept the greatness of my master, I will show you all the extent of your sins! Because it is my penance."
Barabbas reached back replacing his robes. He pulled his hood back up over his head to hide his face in it's depths, hands steepled before him as though in prayer.
"So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, "Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?" For he knew it was out of envy that they had handed Jesus over to him."
Cold eyes devoid of emotion stare at the camera, and then he speaks softly.
"Once there was a man who believed that Sports Entertainment was a scourge, a vile disease that was spreading it's taint to kill the very soul of the warrior."
Barrabas lifted his hands, staring at them before they lowered again. He shook his head.
"That only wrestling in it's purest form could redeem us, that only by facing our fellow warriors in true combat! That only by battling against the demons inside of us, by conquering them! Could we be called men! And Sports Entertainment--"
Those words are spoken with utter disdain, his lip curling.
"Made us less then men! And when one of your weak willed, pathetic Sports Entertainers killed themselves! When he lost to the demons inside of him, when he let the cancer of Sports Entertainment eat his soul! And he took his own life, who did you blame?"
Barrabas lowered his head, rubbing his clean shaven head before those dead eyes lifted again to the camera. "WHO DID YOU BLAME?"
He rose, robes falling away to reveal a massive and muscled form covered with scars. He shook his head, staring at the camera. "You blamed a man who fought to save us all from the disease of Sports Entertainment! You blamed a good man who tried to purify the soul of this diseased sport! You blamed Kyle Heaven!"
His hands rose, dragging across his head before he sat back down. He panted, shaking his head. "I must try to control my anger, that is my demon! I must not fail him, like all of you have failed him! Because I will force all of you to accept the greatness of my master, I will show you all the extent of your sins! Because it is my penance."
Barabbas reached back replacing his robes. He pulled his hood back up over his head to hide his face in it's depths, hands steepled before him as though in prayer.
"So when the crowd had gathered, Pilate asked them, "Which one do you want me to release to you: Jesus Barabbas, or Jesus who is called the Messiah?" For he knew it was out of envy that they had handed Jesus over to him."