The Hero's Journey: A Short Story

Hypnotized by the moment they follow the crowd, watching as they offered Jesus wine mixed with gall. However, Jesus refused to drink, and the soldiers laid his body on the wooden tree, placing a big spike in the palm of his hand. Without hesitation, a giant hammer drove the rusty point through his flesh. Meanwhile, the Roman guards divide his clothes amongst themselves while casting lots and keeping watch on the Blasphemer. Above his head, the mocking charge against him, that ironically in due time will deem true. This is Jesus, King of the Jews.
The hostile crowd is, screaming offenses to the Christ, while Freddie, who is standing in the very place history can only recall, watches inhabitants who have witnessed the miracles, nonetheless, they refused to accept as truth. Pathetic cries from the deceiving forces’ who manipulated the multitude into believing this was an evil man. In addition, for that reason, they wish him dead.

“How did we get here?”
Michelle asks.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” he says, as he squeezes her hand.
“I come from the future, to prove, Time Travel is possible. I have 10 seconds to grab something and bring it back when this ring glows. Do you believe that?”
“I am from the future,” she says, looking at Jesus on the cross.
“I believe, I remember the ring, two times before this, I remember it all.”
Many abuses hurled at Jesus, saying things in the same way of the chief priests and the teachers of the law and the elders said to mock him.
“He saved others,” they say, but he can’t save himself!”
“You, who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days,”
“Save yourself! Come down from the cross, if you truly are the Son of God!”
“Come down, and we will

believe.”

***

All eyes focused on the time meter.
The decisive moment is getting very close to. With full concentration, they watch wondering where he can be. What is he doing, and can they even bring him back? The two scientists started this moment ten years ago as a distant dream, persistently nurturing the idea into a reality, and now the past has become the present, and they wait for the future to unfold. Despite all the successes. None of that matters now. They have reached the point they have dreamed of, one concluding hour, their Hour of the Shining.

Laura is beside herself; therefore, Fletcher decides to calm her down, comfortably on the sofa with his arm around Laura’s shoulder, he tells her a story in hopes to sidetrack the worry. “You know, young lady, your father has gone to great lengths to be able to travel through time. I firmly believe you don’t need a time chamber, a wormhole, a vortex or even the Bermuda triangle. I believe, we are all time travelers.”
“How do you mean?” Laura asks.
“It's simple.” Fletcher smiles,
“Time travel happens without anything, at least in our minds. Sometimes we find ourselves back in time when something triggers one of our six senses.”
“Like a song?” Laura suggests.