31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
T he bits of dawn peeked through the uncovered window of the apartment as Judas' eyes, crusted from dried tears, broke open. He shifted his gaze from one side to the other in an attempt to take account of his surroundings. Moving his arms, his hand stopped short of a skinny bottle at his side, still half full of green liquid.
"It's not going to work, brother," he said to the room, "Too little, too late, I say."
He grasped the bottle, putting it to his lips.
"Go back to hell, Yesh," he whispered before finishing off the bottle. "I'm done. Do you hear me? I'm calling him today… one way or another, I'm done."
The words came out painful and slurred. Judas didn't know what time it was nor did he care. His only plan was to either drink himself to death, if he could, or until he worked up enough courage to make the call; whichever came first. Tossing the thin bottle aside, Judas stumbled to the kitchen and pulled out two more. Bourbon, a classic.
He staggered with his prizes back to the living room, looking around at the chaos of overturned furniture, broken pictures, and empty bottles. He wanted desperately to care about the state of his surroundings, but he just couldn't. He was numb and he was glad for it. Twisting the lid off the first, he threw the stopper against the wall and filled his mouth.
Falling into the sofa, Judas took another long pull from the bottle, "I heard you last night, Yesh. I heard you whispering in my ear. I wake up and am I home? No!"
He shakes his head madly.
"No, I'm not! I'm here… in this place. Without Eliza. I gave you everything, brother. Everything! More than two thousand years you took from me… what was your plan? For me to watch humanity forever?" Another large swallow of the liquid was gone. "Then what? This feels more like a punishment than a gift." No doubt about it.
Judas had no fear of ending up in hell one day. This was darker and more tortuous than any fiery pit he could ever be thrown into. This was true hell.