Topic: Easter

Jerusalem, Sunday. 32 AD

“What do you mean it’s empty?”
Bruticus looked up from his dormice and hummus lunch, his desk strewn with papyrus.
“Like, totally empty,” responded Benicius, standing stiffly at attention and desperately trying to avoid his superiors gaze.
“We closed the tomb up on Friday, rolled a big ass rock in front of it and everything.”
“And you set watch?”
“Of course! That Joseph guy is a known sympathizer. I don’t trust an Arimethean as far as I can throw him… sir!”
Bruticus waved for his officer to relax. This was the last thing he needed, what with Barrabas on the loose again.
“There was no sign of tampering?”
“None sir.”
“Why were you even checking it?”
“It was his mother, she and that other Mary, the looker? They wanted to anoint the body with oils or some sort of Hebrew stuff.”
Bruticus motioned for him to continue around a bite of lunch.
“So we rolled the stone aside, figuring it couldn’t do any harm, y’know? And inside there’s nothing. Just the leftover shrouds all empty. So while me and Sammicus are scratching our heads, the ladies start up a wailing.”
“Like frightened?”
“Nah! Like happy? They were crying and yelling ‘he is risen’ and then ran into town! And we’re getting reports of sightings all over the place.”
Bruticus sighed…
“No keeping a lid on it now. Not your fault Ben, who would expect something like this? Probably that guys gang snuck past you overnight and stole it. Round some of them up.”
“Won’t do no good sir, we already talked to that Peter guy. He said the same thing he did Thursday, three times even, says he never heard of him.”
Bruticus wondered if it was too early in the morning for wine.
“Are we sure this guy was dead?”
“Oh definitely sir, stabbed him in the side myself just to make sure. Dead as a dormouse sir!”
“Crap, Pilate is going to be pissed.”
Bruticus fished thru the scrolls on his desk until he found what he was looking for. He scribbled a quick order and handed it to Benicious.
“Well the higher ups are gonna want this nipped in the bud. Start a program to persecute his followers. Put that Saul of Tarsus kid on it. Tell him I might need him to go to Damascus.”
“Yes sir!”
Bruticus looked down at his lunch, his appetite fled. He had a sinking feeling.

“It’s Jerusalem chief, it’s a weird place.”