[ADAM stands before the statues of FAITH and PERSUASION. He is on the first step of the flight of stairs that lead to the figures. Behind him is the cosmos, and forward stretches two paths into EDEN, one past each golem.]

[The SERPENT is wound about the head of the statue of PERSUASION, so that the face of each is one. The visage of the statue of FAITH is featureless.]

ADAM: I am the only man who shall not have to look to my footprints; where I had tread. I have the benefit of forward motion and the blessing of establishing the archetype of men. [Looks to the statues, and seeing the face of the statue of PERSUASION, frowns in recognition and realization, though not of the SERPENT.] Though I shall not have their gratitude-- I will be cursed for my knowledge, my failure to forethink.

ADAM: [Sardonically. Looks down to his feet and up the stairway.]. Shall I step to the second step, or the third? With my right foot or my left? Should I deviate eastwardly or westward from the center of the path? Will I move with caution or sureness or callousness?

[Waits a moment, then steps solidly to the second step with his right foot. Waits again.]

ADAM: [Mockingly.] I could have stepped with my left. I did not go far enough. I must have moved too much, too quickly. I am still far too centered.

ADAM: [Spitefully, shouting.] Am I to question every act I commit, every action I commit to? [Quieter. Shakes head.] They will not know that I am equipped with the knowledge of the span of existence, that I know all that they will learn, for if I am not able to learn such knowledge, how shall they? They will not know that I do not need the apple. They will not realize that I am the greatest image. They will fall to Christ. He will take their stones, but he will also take their praises-- though I am the only man to know immortality. I am the only one who will never look behind.

ADAM: [A malicious chuckle.] I could stand here forever and they would never come to. My curses would lay upon them before their birth and there would be no retort! There would be no answer. I could stand here forever and name them all, and then change their names, and name their fortunes and misfortunes, and then change the names of those lucks, and it would be that the anointing of God upon me of choice would really be his surrender. I know the serpent; I could slay it before its tongue spread deception into the ears of my rib and then myself. I could turn about and return to the cosmos! [Motions forward.] All of this would never be!

[ADAM turns until all that is behind him is just outside of his peripheral vision, and grimaces.]

ADAM: [Sighs.] But I am the only man who shall never have to look behind. I shall never look behind. And each of my decisions is pointless and worthless, for I will never learn more. I will never gain. [Thinks.] I am established to lose.

ADAM: [Another flash of anger.] I am the real Christ. All that I have now is meant to smashed from my hands and head and heart so that it will trickle down the generations for new men to gain and learn and love.

[His face lightens and he again sighs, before nodding in acceptance.]

ADAM: [Another chuckle. He shakes his head.] Ah, anachronism: Reaganomics.

[ADAM walks toward the statue of PERSUASION and beyond. The SERPENT unwinds itself and follows.]

[End.]

Just a short scene based around the idea of Adam actually utilizing the free will he was given and refusing to obey God. He ponders his power over the Lord and the race of men, because if he doesn't enter the garden, God's divine plan can never unfold, and humanity (with the exception of Adam and Eve themselves) will never be birthed. His notoriety and penchant for blame will never burden his name.

It's not a promulgation of a certain faith, just an exploration of a certain faith's promulgation and exposition.

II

[A nobleman's vista at dusk. A number of PRAETORIAN GUARDS, including the PLAIN PRAETORIAN, have just ransacked the estate. Several of the inhabitants lay dead or dying on the marble patio at the entrance, where the GUARDS are.]
PLAIN PRAETORIAN: [Prodding a badly-wounded servant, who spasms meekly and weakly on the ground. To the other GUARDS.] This one stirs.
FIRST GUARD: [In regards to a corpse that has been torched; mockingly and sarcastically. In reply to the PLAIN PRAETORIAN.] And this one burns!
SECOND GUARD: [Part of the mockery and jest; pointing to a body that hangs from an overhead arch, by noose. In further reply.] And this one turns! It swings! It sways! It rings in dead-tones and dead-flesh moans! Stench!
CAPTAIN: [To the SECOND and FIRST GUARDS.] Stay your words. [To the PLAIN PRAETORIAN.] Be his savior; slay the servant. We operate on a mercy absolute: oblivion.
[The CAPTAIN exits, moving deeper into the vista.]
FIRST GUARD: [Continuing the CAPTAIN's statement.] From our own position, of course.
[The FIRST GUARD exits, in pursuit of the CAPTAIN.]
SECOND GUARD: Though coarse, regardless of their condition; a meridian of pity and compassion.
[The SECOND GUARD exits, following the others. The PLAIN PRAETORIAN watches after them, watching over the crippled, dying man at his foot.]
PLAIN PRAETORIAN: [To the servant.] Like the hounds we employed to hunt you. They enjoyed the hunt and chase, hardly-chaste as they are. [Noticing the man's wretched state.] You, at my greaves: do not grieve. For you, I will bereave, reap, weep, and weave.
[The PLAIN PRAETORIAN slides his blade into the torso of the mortal servant. The servant expels anguish from his throat.]
PLAIN PRAETORIAN: [In thought.] That was not enough to kill you. The tip can only rip and unwrap your skin, and promulgate your sin. I will press for more. [The PLAIN PRAETORIAN leans upon the blade slightly.] But my weight-- how much? And I wait-- how long for you to die? Shall this blade be dirtied by soil and soul, or soiled by blood alone; sold to the killing hand?
[The PLAIN PRAETORIAN leans heavily on his sword, and the servant exhales and expires. The PLAIN PRAETORIAN tries to pull his blade from the body of the man, but it has punctured too far, and is now stuck between the marble slabs of the patio. He shrugs and prepares to delve further into the estate, but turns and observes the dead.]
PLAIN PRAETORIAN: [To the smoldering corpse.] You gray. [To the hanging corpse.] You sway. [To the once-stirring servant.] You lay.
[The PLAIN PRAETORIAN thinks for a moment, then smiles briefly and subtly.]
PLAIN PRAETORIAN: [To them all.] I will not stay, or even pray for you. You have been hounded and saved. [He exits.]
END

Eh. Not the best, but it's practice. I'm really tired, though, and it's really late, so I suppose I'll just analyze and explain in the (later) morning.