The Maze The Lost Labyrinth - By Jason Brannon Page 0,24

for my sins. Their lives were in turmoil right now because of my crimes. I remembered the bullet that had struck my skull. Quite possibly, this was all a dream and I was clinging to life in a hospital somewhere. My wife and son faced the prospect of losing me. Had I not gone to Karen’s, I never would have ended up in this shape, and they wouldn‘t have suffered. Amy’s heart wouldn’t be broken, and Peter wouldn‘t be facing a childhood that involved living in a broken home.

I didn’t need one of those amber pills in my pocket to feel guilty now. On the outside, I was vastly different than Barabbas. But in the heart where it really counted, he and I were the same.

I didn’t know what to do with this newly personalized connection with one of the most notorious criminals in the annals of history. I felt a sense of sorrow and a heaviness of heart that was unfamiliar, but I knew that simply being remorseful wasn’t good enough. Sometimes saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t fix everything. For his part, Midnight didn’t seem to care about the psychological ramifications of my mirror image. He was more concerned with taking his pound of flesh out of the Roman thug’s hide--and mine. In his eyes, he saw two sides of the same coin, yet he didn’t get the chance to attack either of us.

Without warning, long curved scythes descended from the ceiling behind me, suspended from lengths of rusty chain. The blades sawed through the air like razor-sharp pendulums eager to cleave flesh from bone. It was like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe story.

As if getting cut into pieces by swinging razors wasn’t problem enough to deal with, Barabbas chose that moment to step out of the mirror. Although horrified and frightened, I recognized the chance for what it was. This was my opportunity to confront my own shortcomings and face those flaws in me that had made others suffer. Barabbas represented those weaknesses in myself. He was the version of me I saw when I looked in the mirror. In so many ways, he was the real me; and I hated that more than words could express.

The criminal bared his blackened teeth at me and laughed. The sound that ripped its way out of his throat was like sandpaper on an open wound.. He held the spiked club in one hand and tested its weight, deciding whether or not it would be suitable for bashing in my brains. I had no such weapon with which to defend myself. The only thing I had going for me was Midnight. Once Barabbas stepped out of the mirror, Midnight was able to distinguish between the two of us. The dog was on my side now.

“Hello, sinner.” Barabbas carefully eyed the swinging blades. “One way or another, you are going to get hurt down here. You‘ll either be cut down where you stand or you‘ll feel the wrath of my mace.”

“I don’t like either of those options.” I moved forward to avoid the blades that sliced through thin air all around me.

Midnight howled and hunkered down, standing before me like a protector. I knew he was looking out for me, but it didn’t matter. The scythes weren’t swinging low enough to hurt him, but they would have no trouble cutting me in half if I didn’t move forward.

Inch by inch, the blades advanced toward me, cutting through the air with a loud swoosh. They drove me toward the end of the hall where Barabbas stood, and I had no choice but to go where I was led. This particular part of the maze had clearly been engineered with one purpose in mind. I was going to have to confront the ugly truth inside of me in the form of Barabbas in order to move forward. Failure to confront that ugly truth would mean death by swinging razor blade. Given that choice, facing off with Barabbas seemed logical and necessary.

I had done a lot of bad things in my time, and a lot of people had paid for my mistakes while I had gotten off scot free. I was just as much to blame for Christ’s crucifixion as Barabbas. Christ had died for all of the world’s sins. I remembered all of those empty glass jars waiting to be filled with the evil parts of me and realized I had done my fair share to contribute to that iniquitous burden. It was