Word of the Golgotha massacre spread throughout all the lands. For many days and nights, all those in neighboring cities slept in fear, hoping that the divine avenger did not fancy obliterating their townships. Families of the dead wept and jesters played sad songs on their instruments accordingly.
Jesus now wandered the wilderness alone, bored and wondering what could have been had he stuck with the plan. Could he really have provided eternal salvation to all mankind? Could he really have endured a humiliating death and then risen up after three days? Too ashamed to revisit any of his familiar haunts, he walked the desert alone, racking his powerful but blood-guilty brain to somehow save humanity despite what had transpired.
Ravaged by guilt, many years pass as Jesus slowly explored south. Using his supernatural abilities, he began to take on many different forms and looks, trying to assimilate back into society. However, it was to no avail, as he often found himself alone in the wilderness after each attempt. He was never satisfied with a "normal" life in any city, with any woman, in any abode.
Many more years passed…
Never the quitter, Jesus amped himself up yet again as he approached a new city with skin color and features altered to match the natives. This time though, he had a completely new idea.
In this city Jesus decided to start his new identity and life at the local inn. Upon entering, he sat down, waiting for the burka'd innkeeper to approach him.
"Welcome to Mecca," she said, "I've not seen you here before. What is your name?"
As casually as possible, Jesus shifted in his seat and informed her, "You may refer to me as Muhammad. Praise be to Allah."
A/N: Thank you to 22 for being such an excellent beta.
Apologies if this story offends anyone…
Just kidding, F*ck You.