“I’m not doing it ” insisted Octavio, thrusting the spear into the hand of the younger legionnaire. “You can do it, my sister has been going on about this fellow for some time and she will not forgive me if I start getting all stabby with him.”
Flavius laughed as he took the long handled spear from the older man. “Honestly, what are you like” he replied “you don’t really think he’s the son of god do you?”
They both looked up at the bedraggled man hanging on the cross in front of them. He really wasn’t having a very good day.
“And besides” Flavius continued, “do you really think giving him a bit of a poke in the side with a spear is any worse than nailing him to a cross? You didn’t seem to mind a bit of hammering earlier”
Octavio shoved the younger man “Just shut up will you” he said rather annoyed. The thought of his sister finding out about his role in this whole affair had him feeling rather on edge.
“You don’t know my sister okay, once she gets a bee in her bonnet about something she is most persistent. No one saw me nailing anyone to anything, I just don’t want to be doing any stabbing okay.”
Flavius shook his head. “I really do think that you ought to worry less about what your sister thinks and worry more about keeping that lot at bay” he said, motioning to a small crowd that had gathered not too far off. “They look like they might try something. We had a lot try and rescue a chap a while back – one of the lads lost a couple of fingers.”
Octavio really didn’t think they looked like any bother at all and looked up at the man on the cross. Blood ran down his face where the crown of thorns he was wearing had dug into his flesh. “Listen mate” Octavio said shuffling nervously, his sister had seemed pretty convinced about this fellow. “I really am sorry about this you know – just following orders and all that.”
The man grimaced and he turned his head to look at the legionnaire. He attempted to speak, but could manage only a whisper. “May I ask of you a favour” he said, his eyes dark and his lips dry and cracked.
Octavio looked around an noticed that Flavius was watching the people gathered some way off.
“If I can, I suppose” he muttered quietly not wanting to be heard.
“Will you give a message to my dad for me?”
Octavio nodded. He did not intend to but it was the least he could do after nailing him to a cross. The man on the cross really did not look in a very good way at all. He grimaced in agony as the thick iron nails tore into his flesh.
“Tell him I’m still not tidying my bedroom…”
Something else?
Fly me to the moon – Sunday photo fiction
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/glorious/
Afterwards 
Not the ending I was expecting. Rather blasphemous, as a matter of fact. I loved it!
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Very kind , thanks . poor chap must have been rather miffed by the whole going on in my opinion.
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