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Burning The Christians

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It was a terrible fire, the worst I have ever seen. It seemed like God the Father had poured open the very gates of hell upon the city. And it did not matter which deity one followed for protection as the fire claimed persons of all beliefs or no belief whatsoever. All suffered equally in the conflagration, and there was no mercy to be found in any quarter.


There were no structures of stone anywhere that could stop the flames or hinder their progress; all was made of wood. Fanned by the wind the fire spread rapidly, consuming everything it came upon. It moved from shop to shop and home to home, devouring everything in its path.


People ran for their lives, only to discover there was no place to go. The fire chased them like an avenging angel and then acted as though deliberately cutting off their path to safety just for sport. It took the lives of the heroic and cowardly alike – those who tried to help the old, crippled and infirm as well as those who trampled anyone underfoot simply to escape.


Aelius, our leader of the sect of those who followed the Christus whom Pontius Pilate had crucified as a criminal, said it was a judgment from God because of the corruption and licentiousness of Rome. Mother was not so sure she agreed, thinking the Holy Father was a more merciful God and not willing that any should perish. I did not know what to think, only that as a nineteen year old daughter of my father Petronius my home was no more - nothing but smoke and ashes – and that our lives hung precariously in the balance.


On the sixth day it seemed as if the fire had finally burned itself out, only to return to life. Flames broke out in the open areas not yet affected, especially those of the temples and pleasure arcades. Aelius said it was another sign from God. If it was, then surely the results of the raging inferno turned out to be far different than what our leader had anticipated.


When the fires finally extinguished themselves we were forced to camp just outside the city, finding little for nourishment until soldiers came with food and grain. We were told that Nero was attempting to feed the people, and that he would eventually return Rome to a status far greater than what she had previously achieved. But soon ominous rumors began to spread among the populace, rumors indicating he had not acted nobly to save the city as some had indicated, but rather had played the lyre without compassion while allowing the flames to destroy the great city in order to rebuild Rome for his own glory.


The first signs of the coming persecution were portended when Aelius was arrested along with several others. A terrifying rumor quickly began to spread that we as followers of Christus were being rounded up. We were being accused of contributing to the conflagration in order to burn the city to the ground and then claim it as judgment from God. Soon there were more arrests, and many more of our faith began to disappear from our midst.


One night a family friend came to us with an ominous report. All of us as Christians were now being blamed for the burning of Rome; no one was excluded. Much of the populace had originally suspected it to be the work of Nero himself as there were unconfirmed reports of people witnessing citizens throwing torches and contributing to the fire, citizens whom it was believed he had hired to do his bidding. But Nero sought to deflect the rumors by finding a scapegoat to placate the masses.


At first he wished to place blame upon the Jews as they could easily be accused of just about everything from famine to a sudden illness in one’s household. But Nero’s wife Poppaea liked the Jews who served in court. It was believed by some that she persuaded her husband to place the blame instead upon the followers of Christus.


As news began to spread of further arrests, Father decided it was time for us to flee the city before we too were rounded up in Nero’s great net along with all the others. Besides, it had been learned that Aelius and several other leaders who had been detained were now seeking to spare their lives by informing the Romans as to who else were considered followers of the Christus. I had to conclude based on these stories that Aelius and the others had only become Christians until such time as events turned against them, thus making it more favorable to change allegiances.


The lives of my family were now in grave danger and we should have acted in due haste. But the moment to leave passed us by before we were ready to depart. Soldiers came later that night, and we were caught up along with so many others, including some of whom we knew did not profess Christus in the slightest.


We were gathered up into those dungeons that had survived the fire, and we were no small group. There were hundreds of us, with more arriving daily from further arrests. We were barely fed enough sustenance to make it through each day.


What began to unnerve me was when I noticed people were being taken away almost as fast as new ones were arriving! It seemed as though our ranks neither swelled nor diminished. Guards came daily – and sometimes several times a day – sometimes bringing new prisoners and sometimes just to take some of us away. Those that were taken we never saw again.


The guards and soldiers were a cruel lot, and we often learned from them what had happened - what WAS happening - to many of our numbers. Scores of us had been or were being taken away for sport or public execution. We had been accused of setting fire to the city, and for that our sentence was death. And the guards often told us plainly what was being done to certain individuals, deriving no small amount of satisfaction in seeing our reactions of horror and despair.


This terrified me greatly whenever I saw the guards come to take people away. I was horrified when they took my young friends in the faith - Paula, Ovidius and Lucilia. I never saw them again and I wondered what become of them. I was to later learn they had been fed to the lions while the citizens of Rome were entertained by their deaths.


It was not long before those being arrested were not enough to replace those being taken away. Day by day our ranks became thinned despite the new arrivals. And day by day mother tried to comfort me with the very words of Christus himself when he had spoken to the thief on the cross beside him that this day he would be with Him in paradise. It was small comfort indeed knowing that death was so real and so near. But my biggest fear now was that I would crumble as I was tortured and that I would betray my Lord at the moment of truth.


One day they came for father and I wept bitterly as I prayed in vain. He told me to be strong and that soon we would all be together again. He had no illusions as to his fate and he went quietly and bravely. Word returned by the mouth of some cruel guard that father had been wrapped in hides so the dogs of the arena could tear him apart to the cheers of the spectators. They all thought it was great sport but I thought it was a terrible fate, and I soon became numb with grief.


Our ranks had been further decimated when the day came that mother was taken away from me as well. When the guards arrived and came toward us she was afraid I was going to be chosen. So she stepped forward into their path as though offering herself for their purposes.


I started to cry out but she turned and looked sternly at me as though forbidding me from speaking out to save her. Tears filled my eyes as I saw the love that was displayed in her features. Then the guards took her away along with several others, surrounding them all and prodding them along with spears as if they were nothing more than common criminals.


My beliefs were shattered; my hopes were in vain. I had placed my trust in Christus and look where it had gotten me… the loss of my parents and many dear friends. From that moment on I no longer cared anymore.


Our ranks continued to be depleted all that afternoon and into the next day. Soon there were less than a hundred of us remaining. They came for us at a rapid rate and I suffered more loss – Gaius, Hadriana and Sabina… all dear ones of mine. Even two family acquaintances who proclaimed throughout that they were not followers of the Christus were taken away to the arena.


This time we were not told what would become of any of them. I only knew with a certainty that I would not live to reach my twentieth birthday… would not be betrothed or blessed to bear children. But I was too numb to care anymore, resigned to the fate that God had cruelly bestowed upon us.


The next day more were taken with alarming frequency, and there were fewer and fewer of us left in the dungeons. That afternoon they came and took Regula, Quintus and others. By now there were so few of us remaining that I pondered if I would even live through the night. It was as if they were cleaning out the dungeons once and for all! My thoughts would prove prophetic.


As the sun was going down they came for the rest of us and herded us all out together. It was almost a relief to know the end was finally upon us. I had no idea how it would come and I did not care. My prayers went unanswered so I no longer offered them up anymore.


We were lead out along what was left of a major street. I knew not which one for the landmarks were all burned away. But I could tell we were being led toward one of Nero’s large gardens.


A murmur of hope spread among us as it was said there were those without homes living there. Perhaps we would be set free to take up residence as well; maybe the bloodlust of the population had been satiated. There were murmurs that maybe our prayers had at long last been answered. But I did not believe them.


Along the way my suspicions were confirmed when we encountered those of our beliefs both male and female who had been crucified naked on either side of the street a mere couple of days ago. Many were still alive and in mortal agony, struggling time and time again just to lift themselves up for a simple breath of air. They were too exhausted to cry out when they saw us passing by.


Surely it was humiliating for them to be seen thus. It was equally horrible for us to be forced to walk past. If any in our band harbored any small hope at all, those hopes were permanently dashed by the cruelty the Romans had put on display along that road of crucifixes. I knew then that there would be no mercy for any of us. Death was now coming to claim those of us who remained.


It was horrible and I deliberately avoided looking upon them as we passed by - their naked, emaciated bodies with the agony on their faces. Besides, the guards were always there to move us forward with the pointed end of a spear should we tarry. Then I heard a weak voice from one of those crucified… a familiar voice…


“Daughter?”


I looked up and saw to my horror that it was mother! She had been nailed there naked ever since she had been taken away from me, fully two days ago! Her skin was all leathery and burnt from exposure to the sun, and she appeared to be no more than a shell of her former self.


I watched in horror as she appeared to struggle to lift herself up for every single breath, putting weight on her nailed feet and wrists and then wincing in agony!! I rushed toward her, stricken with grief. But the guard kept me away with the end of his spear. I stared in abject horror and utter misery, feeling so helpless that I was unable to lend any kind of comfort or assistance to the one who had bore me those 19 years ago!!


I saw something in her face… saw that she had recognized me. She almost smiled with joy, though how anyone could experience joy on the cross was beyond me. It was a miracle we had been permitted the ability to see each other again! And that thought - that it was indeed a miracle - was not lost on me.


“Have… faith…. daughter!” were the last words I ever heard from her parched, cracked lips. There was great love and gratitude in her eyes, perhaps from being allowed to see me this one last time? Then she gave up the ghost and slumped forward in death as though now she could finally be at peace.


I could not stop the tears that flowed, and I sobbed openly… although I was not alone in weeping at such cruelty. The guards thought it great sport to see us broken thus, and they continued prodding us forward with their spears. But I could not get that thought out of my mind at being granted the gift of seeing mother one last time…


It was a miracle… it was a miracle… it was a miracle…


I suddenly felt a new resolve swell within me as we drew nearer to the gardens. That is when I saw what I thought were large, glowing torches. Then I heard those awful screams. It was the screams of the burning… the dying.


I did not see Quintus anywhere, perhaps he was already aflame. But I was just in time to see them put the torch to poor Regula’s naked, tar-covered body. Our eyes met briefly before she started screaming as the flames totally engulfed her with a horrific whoosh.


I choked back another sob as we walked on past, only to watch another soldier put a male to the torch. But with each step I was beginning to feel a peace not of this world. Two more were set ablaze but I only acknowledged them with a sad nod before their agonizing screams filled the air.


When we got to the gardens I saw there were many left homeless from the fires that had ravaged the city. But I soon confirmed we were not here to be joining them. Instead there were stakes set up all throughout the garden to which each one of us was led away by a guard or soldier.


I was taken to a stake where a soldier came up to me and ripped off my dear Stola, a very special outer garment mother had made for me last year. “Criminals are not allowed to wear such worthy attire!” he declared as he spat in my face! Then he removed my undergarment until I was fully displayed before him.


He eyed my nudity and I felt shamed as his eyes lingered upon my quivering flesh. Then he retrieved a nearby bucket. To my great distress he began smearing a foul tar all over my body. I knew in an instant the kind of death that was to befall me.


He forced the tar into my breasts, enjoying himself the whole time. He also made sure there was no part of my womanhood that remained undefiled with his filthy hands. My bound arms, my legs, up and down my quivering flesh… soon the tar covered every part of my being save my head.


Around me I heard cries for mercy; one woman was pleading to no avail that she was not of our sect. Tears of fear and despair filled my eyes as I became greatly afraid of the burning to come. Then I began to tremble from a shameful excitement that I simply could not understand.


Why was I feeling thus? Was it that my worries and burdens would soon be at an end? Or was it the anticipation of the flames hungrily consuming me?? Soon I was panting heavily as I found it difficult to catch my breath!


All around me I could hear the sobs of the terrified, the voices of those begging for their lives as the inhabitants of the garden looked upon us without pity. I was sorely tempted to raise my voice along with theirs even though I knew it would grant me no mercy. Then I remembered my mother’s last words on the cross.


At that moment I was brought to remembrance of the shame the Christus must have faced when he too was nailed to the cross. Despite the terror that threatened to consume me I was suddenly filled with a strange peace. Then I heard the horrified screams of the first fires being lit one by one. The entire garden was to be illuminated for the sake of the homeless by our flaming bodies!


I could not catch my breath and I trembled as I choked back a sob seeing the soldiers with their torches drawing ever nearer. More fires were lit and I heard the whoosh of the flames and the screams of the burning, the dreadful sounds coming closer and closer. I could feel the heat of the insatiable flames… could actually feel my own death fast approaching. That’s when I started to panic, afraid that my sins had not been forgiven and that I was about to experience the very fires of hell while I was still alive!


For a moment I caught sight of one of those in the garden being sheltered, a woman of middle age. Strangely she did not look at me as the others were doing with scorn and disdain. Rather she looked upon me with pity as though knowing I was no criminal such as Rome had made me out to be… made us ALL out to be. She spoke not a word but I saw in her eyes that she knew the unspoken truth and I was grateful to her. Then a guard approached with a burning torch in his hand and a cruel smile on his lips.


I steeled myself; this was the moment! I wanted to scream but I bit my lip as I panted heavily! Then he leaned the torch in my direction, and with the words, “Die, criminal of Rome!” he touched my naked body.


Flames instantly became attracted to my tar-covered flesh like flies to honey. They spread everywhere in an instant, following the coating of tar that had been mercilessly smeared all over my body. That’s when a scream was torn out of my lungs, a horrific shriek to blend in with all the others.


I have never suffered such agony before; the flames were all encompassing. No part of my body was spared save the soles of my feet. I even felt my hair whoosh, to be consumed along with the rest of my flesh! I screamed and screamed as the flames hungrily licked at my face.


I had found my voice to cry out, but the flames seemed to crawl right down my throat. It was as if I was being consumed by the flames of hell, burning on the outside and also from within! Truly I was paying for my sins now, and I screamed and screamed as long as I had voice of any kind! I believe I would have said anything to make it stop!


I suddenly saw a male face through the flames, and I was astonished, more so because the agony of my burning flesh suddenly seemed to ease somewhat. I did not recognize him at first… did not know who he was although he was most certainly not of Roman heritage. But there was something in his visage… a love and compassion in his eyes.


That peace returned, and somehow I gained the ability to see him clearly even with the flames dancing all around me consuming my flesh. His lips moved, and despite my screaming I heard the words as though they were spoken inside my head… “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” That is when an indescribably joy flooded my soul!


The agony abruptly ceased as did my screams, and I felt a refreshing coolness. Then somehow he took my hand as though I had become unbound! Then he pulled on me as though pulling me right out of my flames!! Strangely I was no longer burning.


I only had eyes for him as he lovingly took my hand and led me down the road. Off in the distance I saw my parents waiting for me hand in hand with much joy. That’s when I knew that my sins had truly been forgiven and that mother and father would be with me and so many others along with the Christus in paradise…


(written Aug 31 ’14 by riwa)
 
Riwa, can I be the first to congratulate you on a totally superb piece of writing?

The part about encountering her crucified mother was brilliantly portrayed, as was the increasing terror of her situation, and the humiliation and courage of her final execution.

Genius!
 
Great story Riwa...yet again! (I know some of Riwa's previous excellent stories from StakeDamsels.com)

My friends who know me as a hard-core atheist would probably be surprised at my enjoyment of the Christian-themed ending with the meeting of Christus, redemption and paradise.

But I was raised a devout Christian, and while I decisively rejected it all after confirmation...the stories and the joy still connect with me, at least on a nostalgia level.

Perhaps if Sunday School had included a story like this with the smearing of pitch on a beautiful damsel after her stripping and prior to her naked stake burning...I'd still be a Christian!

Now THAT is redemption!

I also liked the fact that you attributed Christus' crucifixion to Pontius Pilate, which the historical record shows to have been an vicious, bloodthirsty tyrant, unlike the wimpy milquetoast portrayed in what we call the "New Testament"...which was almost entirely written for a Roman audience, intending to convert Romans to Christianity, so tried to downplay Pilate's role...and had the result of many centuries of vicious and deadly persecution of Jews (of which Jesus was one).

Again, EXCELLENT story!
 
My friends who know me as a hard-core atheist would probably be surprised at my enjoyment of the Christian-themed ending with the meeting of Christus, redemption and paradise.

It made a nice change. I always appreciate a story coming from a different perspective. :)

There's a painting that depicts this scene, and I think there is at least one manip based on it as well, but I can't lay my hands on them at the moment.
Here is a Damian on the same theme :)
 

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I remember a clergyman telling us kids about children like us being coated with tar
and set alight as lamps at Roman feasts -
what with that and the (literally) blow-by-blow account of Crucifixion
lasting through several lessons, we seemed to have had stimulating RE lessons
even in a non-Catholic school!

I've used the idea in a couple of my stories -
Interrogation & Punishment Centre, and Rome's Revenge

You're right Phlebas, there is an 'art gallery' painting of that scene,
I think there's an an upload's lurking somewhere on the Forums,
I'll see if I can track it down.

just found this b&w engraving so far,
but I think it's based on an oil painting

nero-1.jpg christians-tortured.jpg
 
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Is this what you were referring to?

Thank you Eul and Sizzle, that is indeed the one, I have found this enlarged detail of the original on my hard disk :D
 

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Heaven?

My sister’s dog had been deaf and blind for years. When she started to suffer painful tumours, it was time to put her down. As I explained this to my seven-year-old son, he asked if Dotty would go to heaven. I said I thought she would, and that in dog heaven, she would be healthy again and able to do her favourite thing: chase squirrels.

Jacob thought about that for a minute, then said, "So dog heaven must be the same as squirrel hell."
 
Thank you Eul and Sizzle, that is indeed the one, I have found this enlarged detail of the original on my hard disk :D
I had a close-up of the woman on my HD. Found it while looking for something else today. The painting is by Polish painter Henryk Siemiradzki, titled Pochodnie Nerona (Nero's Torches). Painted around 1876, it is currently in the Sukiennice Museum in Krakow.
Siemiradzki1B.jpg
 
I had a close-up of the woman on my HD. Found it while looking for something else today. The painting is by Polish painter Henryk Siemiradzki, titled Pochodnie Nerona (Nero's Torches). Painted around 1876, it is currently in the Sukiennice Museum in Krakow.
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it is a part of great gallery
Olga's Gallery!
We are proud to say we are one of the largest and most comprehensive online art collections. On our pages you will find over 15,000 paintings. We are dedicated to bringing you quality information about famous artists and their artwork from all around the world.
the link http://www.abcgallery.com/

some examples
 

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