Somewhere in Manhattan, the modern forbidden city of the new empire, at the summit of one of the towering steel and glass monoliths, was one of the many enclaves of luxury in the sky. It served as a marble crusted sanctuary of indulgence for the robber barons of the world. The penthouse was their answer to the castles the old lords had occupied.
Tyler Harris, a 34-year-old hedge fund manager, stood alone on a
balcony that overlooked the sea of lights that was the shimmering of the
empire's crown jewel. He was a tall and very handsome man in the classical
sense. His angular features were chiseled out of lightly tanned skin. His hair
was neatly trimmed and gelled, and his sports coat was perfectly pressed with
not one visible wrinkle.
He stood with perfect posture and radiated confidence. His rise in
the rather Darwinian landscape of the financial sector had been nothing short
of meteoric. He sipped his drink and leaned over the balcony's railing. He
realized he was more than a little drunk.
The early spring air felt a bit chillier at this altitude, but he
didn't really mind. Ice clinked as he took another hardy gulp from his low ball
glass filled with scotch. He secretly hated scotch, but it helped him keep up
appearances and after a while he became used to it. The door sliding open
behind him was accompanied by a sudden gust of wind that raced through the
corridor of steel towers with a low howl. He turned and looked at the young man
in the doorway.
He had long chestnut hair and a full but neatly trimmed goatee. He
wore an old beat up sort of olive color t-shirt and flannel pants. He was the
magician hired for the party. He looked nothing like a magician or any kind of
performer, but he was the best in the world. He sold out whole stadiums. His
performances drew people in from every corner of the country, but for guys like
Tyler and his colleagues, he made house calls. The magician smiled, and Tyler
gave him a nod. The magician lit a cigarette and stood against the railing next
to Tyler.
“Good show,” Tyler said taking another sip from his glass.
“Oh, thank you.” The magician replied with a puff of smoke.
“That one where you turned everyone’s drinks into wine! Holy
shit!” Tyler exclaimed, “Or when you took a chainsaw to that woman then somehow
put her back together again! I've seen the saw and box trick, but you
splattered her guts everywhere! How the fuck did you do that??"
The magician grinned and took another drag “Well I guess I can
tell you,” he said. “Wait, I thought magicians never reveal
their secrets.” Tyler said smugly.
“Ehhh, I think it'll be OK,” the magician replied.
Tyler leaned in with a mouth hanging open with a drunken smile.
“I'm Jesus Christ,” the magician said.
“Oh, right of course.” Tyler said dismissively waving his
hand.
“No you don't understand, I’m literally Jesus Christ, the living
embodiment of God here on earth.” The magician said without any hint of humor.
“You aren't going to give me a line of new age philosophy crap are
you? I was done with that shit in college”. Tyler scowled.
“Look you just saw me turn water into wine then bring
someone back from the dead. What more proof could you want?” The magician
asked. “OK, let's just skip past the standard questions I am asked when someone
says prove it. You were 12 the first time you jacked it. You did it using your
sister's Barbie behind the garage, and you felt terrible after you blew it all
over a caterpillar.”
The breath froze in Tyler's chest, and his jaw fell like an anvil.
“H- How did you know about that,” he stuttered.
“I can see everything,” Magician Jesus replied. The haze of
alcohol and the shock from the last moment seemed to vanish in the wind and was
suddenly replaced by an unparalleled certainty and clarity. There was no
mistaking the presence of the divine. It was a power with a force beyond the
sensory based perceptions of the Homosapien. “How do you see everything that's
going on at once?” he asked in a shaky voice.
“Ehhh, as a human you can't really understand omnipotence,”
Magician Jesus said shrugging off the question.
Standing before infinite wisdom made Tyler's inquiring human brain
flood with questions. He started with the basics.
“Jesus, Or God, Lord, Lord, God, whatever you prefer,” he said
stumbling over almost every word. Jesus just nodded his head in a way that
suggested he was thinking- Get to the point.
“Why are you here tonight?” Tyler finally finished.
Magician Jesus's smile disappeared; his eyes locked with Tyler's.
“The rapture is here.” He said sternly. “This is my second coming, and this is
where Armageddon begins, and you, you are the lynch pin of the chain
of apocalyptic events about to be set in motion.” Tyler was speechless. He
slowly backed away and held his trembling hand to his mouth.
“Ehhh, I'm just kidding.” Jesus said with a smile as wide as
it was mischievous. “I don't know. I just like to come down here sometimes to see
what your lives are like. You had an ant farm when you were nine. You know what
I mean.”
“Why did you put us here?” a wide-eyed , and star-struck
Tyler asked.
“Ah, again, God stuff .You wouldn't get it.” Jesus said.
Tyler’s overwhelming reverence was slowly being replaced by slight annoyance.
“Forgive me for saying Lord but I always thought you would answer
all my questions." Jesus shrugged and flicked his cigarette off the
balcony.
“Look I'll tell you why you're here at least,” Jesus said.
“Tonight you're going to die of heart failure. Its the result of a
little genetic tweak and you wife is going to marry Mark. They end up adopting
a kid from Uganda. They name him after you so I guess it's not all bad, then
they're gonna...” He stopped mid sentence. “You know I guess this is really a
big picture thing a bit more macro than how you're used to thinking. Anyway,
Goodbye Tyler.”
Jesus stepped back inside the penthouse and slid the glass door
closed behind him. Just then Tyler's heart began to sputter as it struggled
to complete its final beats. The blood halted in his veins and with a gasp
the dark shroud of death descended over Tyler's eyes forever.
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