The Red Queen

Days later, Maria comes home waving a newspaper.

‘It’s official...’ she cries, slamming the newspaper down on the kitchen bench, ‘...we have a “headhunting serial killer” ...!’

Bo pauses in her cooking to lean over to the newspaper. She was wearing the “Kitchen Ninja” apron, a black chef’s cap that hid most of her flaming locks, and nothing else, save a pair of blue knickers. The headline reads; “HEADHUNTER LOOSE IN CENTRAL CITY - Police Are Baffled”.

Bo couldn’t help but smile at a joke that suddenly popped into her head.

‘Something amusing...?’ asked Maria.

’I’m surprised they didn’t go with “one step a-head of the police” or someth-’ Bo stopped as she locked eyes with Maria. She looked sour as she opened the newspaper to page 2 and, without looking, stabbed her finger down at the next, smaller headline; “HEADLESS BODY BEHIND TOPLESS BAR” it read; “Police urge citizens to not lose their heads in panic”. Bo simply rolled her eyes.

‘Trust the media to make light of it...’ Bo said, turning back to cooking.

‘The worst part...’ started Maria, ‘...is that I can’t say anything! But what would I say? Oh, it’s ok... it’s just a bunch of guys and gals that can’t die, playing a game! That’s all!’.

There was more than a hint of sarcasm in her speech.

‘Sorry, but we have to remain a secret...’ started Bo, serving what looked like a chilli, only made with baked beans instead of kidney beans, '...imagine the fear and panic if people knew about us? There’d be vigilante groups on a witch-hunt, or people worshipping us as gods, which leads to war and death on a massive scale - supposably in “our name” ...’

‘You can’t say that for certain...’

’Really? Ever heard of the Crusades? Hello? The whole “my God is better than your God” thing? It’s how religion started. There was a Hebrew named Yeshua who became Immortal in 33 A.D., and he was worshipped as the son of a god...!’.

‘Yeshua...?’ commented Maria with surprise, '...oh, you mean Jesus’.

‘The one and the same...’

’Are you telling me Jesus was one of your lot...?’

‘Certainly...’ said Bo with bemusement, ‘...how else do you explain him rising from the dead?’

’But why did you call him Yeshua...’.

‘That was his name...’ answered Bo, '...it became Jesus when it was translated through a thousand languages. At least, that’s what he reckoned...’

’You met him...?’ Maria spat in shock, '...you actually met Jesus?’

’Met him, met his parents - his real parents, attended his parties, heard him preach...’ replied Bo casually, ‘...most of it is a blur though - he sure did like his wine...’.

‘What was he like...?’ asked Maria, ‘...I mean, really like...?’

‘Well...’ started Bo, ‘...for one thing, he looked nothing like you think he did. The comedian “Nish Kumar” looks more like him than any image anywhere of him...’ Bo paused to attend to her cooking before continuing, '...hell, Da Vinci was told to make him into a white guy in the “Last Supper” painting, and I was edited out completely because I was a woman! The space where I was originally is still there; between Jesus and John, which is ironic, really, as Da Vinci did paint John as a very feminine man...and he was just so boring! Constantly droning on about angels and heaven and all that bullshit...’.

‘And did you... erm...’ Maria drew her thumb across her throat.

‘Good god, no...’ Bo sounded offended, ‘...I mean, he wasn’t a great fighter, but he did have a way with words; “words are my weapons” he always said, “faith is my shield”... blah, blah, blah...’ she finished by waving her hand in the air, ‘...the whole “son of God” thing went to his head, and I think he was publicly executed in 1534, with an axe for, ironically, claiming to be Jesus...’.

‘That must’ve freaked them out...’.

‘What...?’.

‘Seeing all that lightning and such when his head came off. Certainly freaked me out...’.

‘I don’t think it works like that unless another Immortal does it...’ said Bo, ‘...something to do with cosmic forces and mystical connections. The power just goes back into the Earth and some God or Goddess somewhere chooses another random new-born to give it to. The same goes if your “first death” is either natural; old age, or disease etc, or total; blown-up, melted in lava, etc. There’s no real science to it...’.

‘Speaking of beheadings...’ said Maria, ‘...would you please take your sword with you tomorrow if you go out? I’d hate for you to meet an “old friend” without your sword...’.

‘Aww...’ said Bo touching Maria’s face, ‘...she does care...!’.

‘Please, Bo, this is serious...’.

‘Will you relax...?’ replied Bo, ‘...I don’t need a sword to go shopping - not unless there’s a sale on...!’.