The War in Heaven (52 page)

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Authors: Kenneth Zeigler

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Religious, #Christian

BOOK: The War in Heaven
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Chapter 23
 

S
atan stood at the edge of the roof of the Hall of Angels gazing upon the city below. In the distance, he could see the human contingent advancing away from the Holy Place. They had covered nearly half of the distance from their circle of safety to his stronghold here.

To the north, he could see that his forces had pushed the angels completely out of the city. He was amazed that they had not withdrawn totally. Here, he also saw his encroaching forces, 30 million strong. The sky was darkened as they passed overhead and began the task of encircling the human rabble. What he was about to witness was a first. Never had he ordered such a barrage to be launched against an opponent.

Would they expect what was about to happen? He doubted it. He looked on in anticipation. It would take his forces about 20 minutes to get into position. They would form a shroud of death about their human adversaries. After which, they would choke them out.

What would he do with so many prisoners? He had been unable to reestablish communications with Hell. If he had his way, he would send them all there, throw them into the Sea of Fire, though he suspected that the Father would forbid it. Fine. Perhaps when this was through, even if the humans lacked any real respect for him, they would have a new fear for him.

 

David was struggling to keep up with Thecla and her entourage, which now included his mother, Elizabeth, and Jennifer. Behind them, a great
multitude followed. Amidst the city streets of Zion, many of which were cluttered with debris, the going was slower. The crowd was fanning out in all directions, though their numbers were thinning as they moved ever farther from the safety of the Holy Place. They sang and glorified God as they went, confident of their victory.

More and more were discovering the powerful God-given gift that allowed them to become the judge, jury, and executioners of Satan’s minions. However, their numbers were still small, perhaps a few percent of the whole.

So far, they had met with only token resistance and David knew it. The devil was capable of much more.

What was going on around him? Was this march an act of pure spontaneity, the response of a crowd following a bold leader, or was there more behind it than that? David really wasn’t sure. They had no plan beyond spreading out into the city, reoccupying the land that had been taken from them.

A small number of angels had now, with the help of human navigators, gated into the midst of the human contingent, giving their human allies support from the air. It had been many days since the marching humans had seen angels in the skies over their heads. It gave them a sense of renewed hope.

Yet, what David had feared seemed to be coming to pass. A great black cloud appeared on the horizon before them. It grew larger by the minute and moved around them, encompassing them in a wall of darkness. David had never seen so many demons in one place.

Within a matter of minutes the dark cloud had completely encircled them, casting an ominous shadow over the assembled multitudes. David wanted to open fire, but they were well out of the effective range of his weapon.

By now he had caught up to Thecla and the others. He urged them to slow down; to allow others to catch up, to consolidate their position, but Thecla would hear nothing of it.

The wall of demons around them darkened even more. Then they were abruptly bathed in a bright orange glow coming from everywhere.

“Fireballs!” yelled David. “The demons have launched millions of them!”

Thecla and the others came to a halt. Elizabeth stretched out her hands, her eyes closed tightly.

David looked around—there was no place to take cover in this bombed-out region of Zion. He had, maybe, 45 seconds before they hit. He racked his brain for ideas. His mind tried to calculate the amount of heat such a barrage would generate. Surely the land around him would reach a temperature of 1,000 degrees, at least … perhaps more. Then it came to him—a strange and powerful thought that seemed to have emerged from someplace else. As he pondered it, it was voiced by another and then another around him.

“Gate out!” came the cry. “Gate out and wait in the mists beneath the wings of God!”

It was a proclamation that was echoing through the ranks. Already, scores of people around him were vanishing into the starry mists. David hesitated, then followed suit. He walked only a few steps into the mists and came to an abrupt halt. He seemed to be standing on a cloud. All around him were the cool blue vapors. He had only intended to gate a distance of 20 feet. Only once before had he attempted to gate such a short distance. He looked back; only mists met his eyes, no doorway back to the City of Zion. Looking around, he saw other people in the mists, some nearby, others almost obscured in the haze.

“What are we doing,” asked a man who appeared about 30 or so feet to David’s left. He spoke in a thick British accent. “I feel like we’ve just taken refuge from the blitz in a fallout shelter.”

“I think we have,” replied David. “Those were fireballs coming toward us. We should be safe here.”

“I’ve never stopped halfway to my destination,” continued the man. “I can’t even tell you why I did it. It was like the Holy Spirit was urging me to do it.”

“Same here,” said David.

David was actually somewhat surprised when he felt the temperature of the mists rise noticeably for about 10 or 15 seconds, then fall. It wasn’t hard to figure out what caused that.

“That must have been it,” said the man.

“Yeah, I think so,” said David.

“Little the worse for wear,” noted the man. There was a momentary pause. “I know you. You’re one of those scientists who built those ray guns. You know all about this stuff. How long can we stay here in the mists, neither here nor there?”

Now there was a question. How long could someone stand in the middle of a hyperspace tunnel—between two realities? “I really don’t know … I guess, we’ll find out,” replied David. “Just hold tight, I don’t think we’ll be floating out here for very long.”

The man nodded. They gazed out into the infinite, a place with absolutely no points of reference.

Then a man robed in white appeared in the mists. He hadn’t walked toward David and into view; he had simply materialized about 15 feet in front of him. Like all persons in Heaven, David knew him. But it went beyond that, he had met him before. It was James, the brother of Jesus.

“Listen to me,” he began. “Don’t be afraid; you are completely safe here. You are in the hands of our loving Father. The time has nearly come to deal a crushing blow to the enemy of all humankind. The city beyond the mists is glowing red hot with the fire that was rained down at the command of Satan in an attempt to destroy God’s people. They are preparing to strike us again. Do not venture forth. Remain where you are, under God’s wings. Try to be comfortable; you are going to be here for some time. When the time at last comes to vanquish the enemy, God will give you the power to do so; doubt not. Their time of judgment has come.”

The image of James faded. David could see where this was all leading to and he liked it.

“Did you hear and see that?” asked the man to David’s left.

“Sure did,” said David.

“It was James, the brother of Jesus,” said the man. “He appeared right here in front of me.”

“To me too,” echoed another voice from the mists. “I think he appeared to all of us,” said David.

“With the Father’s help, we’ll give them a shellacking for sure,” replied the man. “Praises be to the name of Jesus.”

“Amen to that,” said David.

In the very midst of the glowing blue mists David heard songs arising—the songs of praise of the saints. Now David saw the plan, and he rejoiced in it. This crowd had no plan beyond that of their commander—the Creator of the universe. David was both proud and thankful to be part of it.

Again, he felt a moment of heat. The temperature of the air around briefly increased, only to fall once more. After two fireball barrages, the ground beyond the safety of this place must surely have been glowing hot. He prayed that all of the saints had found their way to safety. Most
assuredly, any that had not taken shelter were surely enduring an ordeal the equal of any they might have experienced in Hell.

 

From the roof of the Hall of Angels, Satan watched with glee as the second barrage of fireballs hit their mark. The land around the Holy Place glowed with an intense heat beyond description. So great was the heat that the demons who had launched the attack from a mile away were burned by its radiance and had been forced to pull back. Satan could feel the heat from here.

This plan had succeeded well beyond Satan’s expectation. After the glare of the first barrage had faded, that region of the city had been reduced to glowing red rubble. Only a few isolated pockets of humans, protected by some form of shield, had apparently survived the attack. Now after the second attack, even those had vanished from the landscape. It had taken virtually all of his reserves, but he had persevered.

The now exhausted demons who had launched the assault had landed, too weak to fly. Satan would grant them a couple hours of rest. All of the crystals, save one, were totally drained, but it had been worth it.

Metastopholies walked to his side to survey the destruction of the once great city. Around the dead zone, fires were spreading out of control. Satan had reduced this city to desolation.

Satan looked to his closest advisor. “Look, come see, is it not as I told you?” he said triumphantly, stretching out his hands to the city. “I have neutralized the threat posed by the humans. If anyone remains, I shall take them prisoner. Before the Father bids me to release them, I will give them reason to fear me. Admit it old friend, I was right.”

“I have already said all that I am going to say,” said Metastopholies. “Ages ago I warned you not to oppose the will of the Father. Yet you would
not be swayed from your path. I followed you in those days. I followed you because I felt your cause was right. Humans were not and would never be worthy to be our masters. But you have defiled your own cause. What gave us the right to torture the humans that over the years joined us in our fate, our separation from God? I looked on in disgust through it all as we defiled ourselves as surely as we defiled the humans, yet I said nothing.

“After all of the cries of pain we caused, the screams of terror we evoked, are we one step closer to our ideals, our goals? No. In doing so, we have become as detestable as those humans … no, even more so. This invasion was your last opportunity to recapture those ideals. You could have negotiated a peace from a position of strength; you had your opportunities, yet you squandered them. I am through with you.”

Satan stood in stunned amazement as Metastopholies turned and walked away. No one under his command had ever spoken to him as Metastopholies had this day and not suffered for it. “Wait, I have not granted you permission to leave my presence!”

“That doesn’t matter,” replied Metastopholies, “I am departing nonetheless.”

Satan drew his sword. “Stop! I command it!”

“And what will you do?” asked Metastopholies. “Will you run me through with that sword? Do you propose to do battle with me?”

Metastopholies leaped into the air, heading westward, away from the battleground. Satan, in his anger, was tempted to follow him, but sheathed his sword instead.

“Go then,” he said. “Go into oblivion for all I care. Your services are no longer needed.”

Satan once more turned his attention to the ruined city before him. Within two hours, when the heat finally dissipated, General Krell would lead his forces into the now baked dead zone around the Holy Place. How
would he ever deal with so many prisoners? Well, he would deal with that problem when the time came.

He thought back to a time when he and his minions stood before God in the Holy Place. Heaven was so different then, the City of Zion especially. There were no elders around the throne, only the Father, and he led the worship to Him. Those days were so much simpler. Sometimes he still longed for those times—the era before man. Those were the days of his glory. He had loved the Father so much, led the praise to Him so well. Why hadn’t the Father exalted him, placed him in a position above the other angels? He should rightly have been at the Father’s right hand. Even if he won this war, things would not be as they were.

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