This was the moment the innumerable unseen forces of darkness had been waiting for, all hell gathered together to unleash their full fury on the chosen one of God; it was way more than just you and me it was the battle between good and evil that would decide the history of this planet and turn every pre-conceived ideal the world had upside down. Jesus incarnate, laid weak and vulnerable to the very creatures he had once damned. Indeed, even the most hideous thing that that dwells in the deep cries out in preparation for an end.
Outward towards the cold, empty space between planets and stars. The empty space that mankind had once called, a “universe” The cosmic playing field is taking shape; all the hosts of heaven watch on, as the dark prince's army comes forth. They cry out in one thunderous voice GIVE HIM TO US!...IF YOU WANT YOUR SONS AND DAUTHERS, GIVE HIM TO US! All heaven is silent, there is no answer, then there rises a figure from their midst, with head hung low, he approaches the midst of these two vast armies.. (images flash over my mind) I see him walking, to the post, to be whipped, and afterwards struggling to carry a cross. A crooked smile forms over the dark Lords lips, "Look...who doth come bearing gifts? I will break him,. I will make him scream; he will feel hell as none has felt before, as he sentenced me. My loving king, you are no match for the weapons I have devised."
And, in this hour, there was no shortage of hideous things: In multitudes and dark masses, they had formed a barricade around the last stronghold left, There were trillions of them; like a globe of darkness stained with a hint of red. Those holding red orbs stood affront legions of creatures with the flutter of brown tinted wings and faces of men. At the core of this madness were beasts nothing short of monsters with gnarled faces, fingers of razor sharp bone. A floating maze of tangled bodies, sheer mayhem, squeaky little bottom-feeder “grunt” demon noises and the chatter that comes with them. they were eager, snarling, ready to win paradise back, fervent to catch a glimpse, a single piece of the holy one; mocking scathing and spitting, each waiting turns at tearing his bodily form to peices; if they could get the chosen one to slip up just once, to where he could no longer endure the agony, they would have victory, by forcing their hated opponent to tap out, their mechanisms of violence and terror superseding love. Yet He did not give up or cry out even once, unrecognizable now, as his body transforms to bloody shreds. Before this dark day the same blood sweated out from his pores. He was begging and pleading with the Almighty. Scarcely able to bear the thought of what He was about to endure, yet that cup of wrath was drained to the dregs. In this moment he was desperately hoping there would be another way to break sins curse, to unwind the spell, mankind was all under. Understanding within himself the hellish pain about to ensue and yet that answer remained the same "Long ago before before the creation of the world, before substance and thought became reality, before light was separated from dark, before we decided love would become a stronger more powerful emotion than all, that this was the only way so not a single loop or tact would be left to human chance". "It is so, enough! Not my will, but yours be done" turning now away...he began walking right into the teeth of the enemy's stronghold...
Hell's gates are unleashed, from the blackest canyons and darkest depth of the abyss they spill out: cruelsome fanged creature's, the fallen arch angels of old, half-breed nephilim of antediluvian renown who were chained to hells darkest depths were there; the author of life now granting the prince of the power of the air ability unleash them. Witness to a great spectacle: their creators death. "this would be darkness last stand" It had been spoken by the lips of the One they feared most. Seeing what none of his frightened and scattered apostles could see, it was as if Jesus was saying, "take a seat back, you are no match for the power and horrors of hell, I am the only one that can, and will pay"
Did Jesus fear the night before arise from the infernal suggestion that he was utterly forsaken? There may be more dreadful trials than this, but surely it is one of the worst to be utterly forsaken? "See," said Satan, "thou has a friend nowhere! Thy Father has shut up the bowels of his compassion against thee. Not an angel in his courts will stretch out his hand to help thee. All heaven is alienated from thee; thou art left alone. See the companions with whom thou hast taken sweet counsel, what are they worth? Son of Mary, see there thy brother James, see there thy loved disciple John, and thy bold apostle Peter, how the cowards sleep when you art in your sufferings! Lo! Thou hast no friend left in heaven or earth. All hell is against thee. I have stirred up mine infernal den. I have sent my missives throughout all regions summoning every prince of darkness to set upon thee this night, and we will spare no arrows, we will use all our infernal might to overwhelm thee: and what wilt thou do, thou solitary one?" It may be, this was the temptation; we think it was, because the appearance of an angel unto him strengthening him removed that fear. He was heard in that he feared; he was no more alone, but heaven was with him. It may be that this is the reason of his coming three times to his disciples--as Hart puts it--
"Backwards and forwards thrice he ran,
As if he sought some help from man."
He would see for himself whether it were really true that all men had forsaken him; he found them all asleep; but perhaps he gained some faint comfort from the thought that they were sleeping, not from treachery, but from sorrow, the spirit indeed was willing, but the flesh was weak. At any rate, he was heard in that he feared. Jesus was heard in his deepest woe.
Yet Just,vengeful wrath is soon poured out, the holy aura of protection present throughout his earthly life now begins to falter, that spiritual connection tethered to the Father, binded by the spirit. To counter this, The dark prince intended to seperate the father from the son, the trinity was too powerful a force to take on himself. If he could detach one from the other, victory could be achieved. Onto the chosen one, he poured the power and might of his blackest cruelty: "the black flame" He had concocted this magic deep within hell's abyss. He had exerted much time and energy into its creation. Through many dark enchantments, tampering and spells, he had a product that could indeed swallow light, even the brightest light, his dark schemes may be enough to pull His spiritual substance to the depths. He had long awaited for this moment... to unleash it. Procuring his unholy flame he wielded it with great force upon the aura of protection. The sheer evil poured into the making of this substance horrified the Father, not one to be exposed to darkness and a careful avoider of its devises, he was now being shown the full force of its ugly horor, being subject and witness to his most cared for son now tarnished, it was indeed transpiring as He divised cutting away the spiritual protection and separating Father from son. God the father was now seeing his most precious treasure, becoming and being consumed by "the black flame" sheer evil, that which he despised most. The pain was insufferable. The arch angel Micheall standing by now witness glances at the Father, grieved to the core, riveted in deep, anguished emotion "send me now, I can alter this battle, "no!" the Father says "no" hold, hold, he can do this, he will make it...
The connection...is now weakening even further. Seeing the onslaught of unspeakable terror and nameless horror in full view and sensing He could take no more., He turned and nodded to his mightiest angel saying"Go! the connection will not last much longer! A diversion is what I require. Spare him from the possession of the evil one, but his physical body, do not save, it will be be the sacrifice for all mankind, what has come to pass must be fulfilled"
The black prince now standing tall, hand outstretched, forms a crooked smile on his formidable face, sensing victory in hand, separating the connection through billlows of the black flame, now swallowing light. The connection was weakening even further as the arch angel micheal and his legion of angels begin their descent toward earth, a tumultuous clash and scheer mayham ensues. Chaos reigns supreme..A flood of pristine wings and armored angels in perfect bodies rush at the pitch black. It was as an army made of nothing less than light itself. Crash! With a grand and dazzling splash, they hit darkness’s outer wall in sheer violent force. “Push!” A multitude of demons atop scaled beasts cry out. “They must not take Golgotha! Hold them! They must be held!” These beasts, these hideous hoards, these entities of darkness, these mutants of decay, were all that remains of the most glorious group of angels. These, now stabbed, gouged, bludgeoned and some torn to shreds, were ones once intended to co-author eternity. Yet now, the time of all such innocence had passed. In unbridled rage, the strongest of all hell’s attack beasts and large winged demons, came forth and clashed against arch warriors; gripping them firm on all sides. Struggling with unnatural might, the fluttering of these powerful brownish-red winged monsters emerged to reinforce. With gritted teeth, all became a vicious entanglement of light and dark. For these monsters only held one goal in mind; to prove that even an arch angel can bleed. ----The battle raged in fury. The connection weakening, was now broke. ..A fell voice cried out amid the chaos "To the cross!" "To the cross!" sensing victory near--all hell rushed in with renewed vigor and force. The connection now broken. Jesus incarnate, seperated from the father, now laid bare for the taking, rushing forward with great ferocity, the prince of darkness lunged forward. The archangel micheal witnessing the connection broken and sensinig the hordes of hell retreating yelled in thunderous voice "To the cross! To the cross!" The host under his command lurched forward slashing and stabbing, lunging aimlessly at will toward any unfortunate foe who happened to cross paths.
A loud voice cried out "eli eli lama sebachin!" (my God, my God why have you forsaken me?!) Hearing these words the angel Micheal and his forces pushed forward with renewed vigor and force. Knowing the power of the trinity was broken, the prince of darkness sensed precious opportunity. Now could Jesus spiritual substance be pulled to the depths, If he could reach Golgotha before the prince of peace spirit had fled its tethered body....Jesus, abandoned by God, forsaken by the world, hated by all, brain throbbing from thorns, dying of thirst, delusional, blinded by bloodflow was at this very moment going through a cardiac arrest, yet his last pained breaths brought life. Sensing all around him, hordes of darkness and Lucifer himself, the dragon of old, snarling and crying out in bloodthirsty glee, The loving kings heart was breaking as this sinister oppression surrounded him. Now, in the throes of death amid all the hordes of darkness, a strong cry rends the air "It is finished!" "It is finished!" A violent blast ensues. Right before Lucifer himself reaches the cross, now sending shock waves of spiritual aggression throughout dark hordes. The savior of the world had breathed his last. A thunderous split was soon heard and the temple was torn asunder. The chosen one of God had completed his mission. He woud now be promoted as mediator, sacrifices were no longer neccessary, having broken down the wall of hostility by his own blood, Satan the oppressor and all his mechanisms were utterly destroyed, they had failed him to the utmost, even death, the last weapon hurled ar him could not pin him down. For He was not bound by it due to his perfect nature, the curse was reversed. All Hell was in a perpetual free fall; a fell voice screamed out amid the darkness "Fallen!, Fallen! Is babylon the great!" The Dragon himself had taken on a mortal head wound, peering inside the chaos, amid all the forces of darkness a great beast could be seen writhing in pain holding the top of a wound that seemed to be gushing with a dark pulsating fluid. Satan, the dragon of old was shaken to the core by such energy, power and might, having come this close to grasping vicory, yet being thwarted at this moment, now enraged the dark prince even more,many of his forces were now overcome with dread scurrying back to the abyss in which they had been summoned from. Only his most trusted warriors and fallen angels remained with the wounded prince of darkness. Micheal and his angels having being witness to this bizarre chain of events were still fighting.
"Darkness shrouded the world, the sun turned black. The Souls of many who had departed this earthly world were awakened The dark prince, although mortally wounded was yelling orders to those who still remained, to the christians, the apostles, Jesus dearest friend, these he advanced upon, with blind hatred and reckless abandon. He only wished to tear them apart. The Archangel Micheal, now the capatin of the Lords host in command, taking his orders directly from the Most High, to these precious souls He wished to protect, thwarting the Dark princes advance at every move while forming a hedge of protection around these souls, the battle still raged. After 72 hours of intense clashing...From the masses, the mounds of captive souls, the claws of ancient fiends and the slush of dismembered spiritual parts, came a figure. "To me!, To me! was the rallying cry"
Climbing atop the tallest pile of dying demons in a wasteland of eternal, nerves that still twitched, a small angelic figure emerged.... the demons began to laugh and heckle. Yet it was in that moment that this warrior reached down and pulled forth the most glorious prize. He pulled forth the prince of darkness from their midst, as it kicked and screamed. The laughter ceased. In silent awe even the most frightening thing in the abyss stepped back taking a deep breath. Casting this captured creature to its trembling knees, the little angel cried out, “Behold, I give you the dragon!”
Across the vastness of the Creator’s dark cancer came a snarl from every hideous face. Pointing their swords toward the one who held the prince of lies by the mane of his own long hair, fangs emerged from the drool of decaying lips. Indeed, Satan, the great prince of demons, the mightiest of all the ancient x-angels, the dark heart of the rebellion, had been plucked out from the inside. Greater still, he was thrust down before all his armies.
Encircled on every side by a cast of countless millions; soldiers of darkness witness to their leaders grim fate. He now released the son of perdition to fall on his face. Dusting off his hand, he took firm grip of his adversary. Looking directly at the sharpened edge of all hell’s blades, a fire ignited in His eyes.
“I bring you a message from the Most High!” He cried out. “This is your last stand! In this hour your war shall be at its end! I have been sent as your judge! I’ve been sent as the voice of the One who made you! You no longer battle all heaven’s hosts, nor the blades of the arch angels or the Master’s finest! Rather,” he cocked his head to the side, “it is now just you and I! Should you wish to keep your kingdom, then you must save your prince!”
“Come oh ye rebellion!” He pointed his dagger at the endless hoards. “Rescue this beast from my hand that what has begun may be finished! For today, you are tested with fire!” He seethed, stepped forward and pinned the ancient dragon to the ground with the heel of his boot.
Like a flood of poison stained pitch black; hell, with every weapon it possessed, rushed in. In that moment He smiled, Boom! With a single thrust of the blade there was a burst of light and spirit that cast the bodies of beasts tumbling into the darkness; like nothing more than rag dolls or grains of sand tossed in the wind. They were not laughing now, they knew who this was...
As He turned to sling his blade again, a weak voice came from the one named the dragon. Wait.” The great prince of demons leaned up onto his knees, gestured out in surrender. “Wait… I know who you are. I know how this ends. I do not wish to resist. I wish to give all this back.”
He slowly paused before stabbing him to the ground through the shoulder. The devil screamed as He leaned in close. “I am afraid the time for that has passed.”
“I appeal to you to let me come before the Father!” He cried out in pain.
“The same right given to any son!”
“The problem is,” He gave a somber shake of the head, “you are
not a son. You are a servant; a rebellious, unprofitable servant at that.”
“You must let me be judged by my Maker!” He screamed as the blade twisted inside him. “No matter your appearance in this hour, those that have passed, or the day I was first made; I know you always. You have blocked me from my rightful place from the very beginning. You have sided with the experiment; the temporal. The so called sons that I have shown over, and over, and over will do nothing but spit in the Father’s face. Thus I say again,” he seethed and leaned up into the blade, “let me appeal to my Maker! You are the Father’s Right Hand!”
Firmly nodding his head. Taking a step backwards and withdrawing the blade, his shape gently shifted into the form of a mortal man. “Why does it hurt!” The beast gripped his shoulder and cried out in sheer agony. “Why am I not healing?” “My virtue . . .” He calmly gestured to Himself. “the Father’s virtue ... the life giving connection to His voice, His will, and the regeneration of creation
itself, has just been cut. What you feel now is called pain. I know,” he paused to
look at the ancient prince, “I didn’t like it either.”
“From here on, you now live under the same curse as all flesh, your legions and the decay from which We have held you exempt until this very day. That cut in your shoulder, that mortal wound on your head, shall be with you even until the ends of time. It marks this moment as a memory to all who see you of this hour; this hour in which I
put my boot in your neck.”
“So, I guess in the end,” he held out his hands with holes in each one, “we
all have our scars.” “Indeed my old friend, servant and adversary, what you forget now is what you always forgot then; that the Right Hand is as much the Father as His feet, His legs, His arms or His eyes. The purpose of the Right Hand is also no different now than it was then. It can either be there to lift up or come with force to knock down. As you know, it is not I, but the Father who decides if I come as an open palm or a closed fist.”
“You now ask for my help in no more than the second hour after you asked the sons of flesh to put me on a cross. Then, you smiled about it.” He leaned to meet the devil face-to-face. “Let me ask you, why aren’t you smiling now?” “You are the Son.” Lucifer lowered his head. “To me, that is not the same as the Source. If I am to be judged, if I am to be condemned; then I beg of you a single mercy. Let my end be issued by the One who made me.”
“You wish to see your Maker,” He nodded, “the Voice of all Creation, the Father of all flesh. You are not foolish you old serpent, surely you know the burn from the sharpened edge of the One who made you. He has been present
this whole time even until now. For today He was my Right Hand, as I also am
His.” It was then that a blinding light came as He lifted the blade in His right hand. There was an image of pure radiation so bright that every eye squinted and every head turned. A soft blast of purplish illumination washed across all
that was made of spirit, flesh or bone. A fine layer of ash covered everything as a thin residue on angel and demon alike; the remains of death drifting as dust in the solar wind. All was light. No black space; rather, light space. The stars and
sun were like matches that merely burned out. All that remained were the galaxies of spinning minerals in oceans of endless and brilliant illumination.
That moment was the last of mankind, those having survived to the end, first opened their eyes. Their bodies, now no longer temporal, took on the form of youth and the condition each remembered and treasured most. Yet, they gasped in awe, shock and terror to find themselves standing in a sea of blades, devils and ancient warriors. But, there was no time for fear. “Is that you my servant?” A voice of intense vibration rumbled out. Every eye rested upon the beautiful beast bowed before the One with scars in His hands. “Yes my Master.” He thrust his face down into the fine layers of ash and gleaming dirt.
“It seems we have been here more than once before.” The vibration of the voice of God traveled outward. “In fact, I do believe this is where we began. Need I remind you of the day you first put your sword to My face, the day you, became the thing you are now, the day you first embraced any place that I am not, the day you told Me just how grand you were, the day I allowed you to be My cancer just so that I could spare your life.” “Yet,” God continued,” here we are again, your sword to the face of my sons for the last 6,000 years. So tell Me, my sinful, arrogant and rebelliousservant; why do you think that I should save you again this time?”
The devil was without response.
“Are you afraid to answer?” The sentence came as both light and sound. “Look up My servant. Have you no faith in the integrity of your actions? I see now and here just how much you tremble. I feel a river of fear and shame in your spirit. Before I even pass judgment, you have already found yourself at fault.”
He was now in the center of a stadium of those named saints. Before him was the Father, an image of radiance. Behind was every beast from his army, the earth, the black abyss and the bottomless pit. Each was held captive by an
angel holding a knife to his neck. On a layer just beneath all these were the caged souls of mankind; the lost, the deceived, the blind, those who never found the Father, those who said there is no life beyond the flesh, those who lived in their own desires, their own will, their own evil, or, their own self-proclaimed good deeds. These were all those who were too preoccupied with the cares of the first life to consider the concerns required for the next. Those who laughed, mocked or shrugged at the Name of the King of Kings, the Lord Jesus Christ. Those who, without even knowing it, had held a great big middle finger at the Father of all life.
Yet, there was no laughing now, just the silent screams from tongue-less souls. This was the closest to their Creator that these caged would ever get. With the desperation of fiends, they violently clawed their way over, around, past and through one another for a single glimpse at that which only hours before they so arrogantly proclaimed didn’t even exist. “You caused a lot of pain.” The image of God now shone brightly. “Should I now put you in the same cage with those you have condemned?”
“I did as I was told.” Lucifer firmly stated.
“As you were told?” The tone of the Creator’s voice deepened to a darker
shade.
“My Father!” He cried out. “My Maker . . . My Creator . . . My Lord . . .My Master . . . My King . . . The One who knows hearts. The One who knows minds. The One who knows the end even before the beginning. The One who designed my purpose. The One who spoke this end even before I had begun. The One who shows mercy and undeserved kindness. I now bow and ask of You to read my heart, read my intentions. Not perhaps what they became; but rather, what they were when we began.”
“You know me. You made me. You fashioned me with your fingers and set me over much. You appointed me head of the Seraphim; the artisans of all eternity, the most beautiful angels that only now stand before you as the most hideous things.”
“My Lord.” He bowed his head under the light of a sorrowfully haze. “I was also very new . . . very naive . . . and very young.” “In that hour my King, there were no fleshlings. There were no arch angels. There were no messengers. There were no middle-men. There was no rebellion. There was no dark void. There were no cages. There was no death. There was no pain.”
“There was only You, Your Son, the Spirit of Creation, the seraphim, and
me.” “My Maker.” He leaned up and spoke. “Can You yourself not imagine,
not conceive, not understand, not sympathize with the pain I felt on the day You
told me my purpose?
“How, my Loving Lord and King, could You have expected anything less. You, the great Architect of all eternity; did you really not know how I would respond? Did You really not know that in that hour, with Your own lips, You birthed the darkness. You birthed the hatred. You birthed the turmoil, cries and screams. You birthed the death and decay for those barred from Your presence. You birthed the monsters, the demons, the x-angels, the dead souls.You birthed the very ones who now go by the very name shadows.” “Thus my Lord,” the devil looked up into the Father’s light, “it is You that began this war...by prolific affection for your own glory"..At the end of these words, the angels tightened their grip on the endless hoards. All creatures from the abyss cried out in agreement, even with blades to their throats. The cages of mankind, grunts, glitchers and uninfected grays shook the bars of their cages. The stadium of saints and all things from the realm of the real began to wildly chatter amongst themselves.
“Father!” Lucifer cried out. “I have just of this hour fulfilled my purpose! Just as in the beginning, I have been vigorous to do that for which I was assigned. I have kept the rules. We have all lived here in the cage, the birthplace of the experiment, the void where Your light does not come, the big black pit in eternity. We have died and decayed
one day at a time with the stench of these creatures, these humans that I said would be worthless from the very start.” “But, my Lord, my Father . . . in this thing . . . this second purpose that you assigned after the hour You revived me and birthed them, I have been faithful. Thus my King, I have done Your will. I have been Your tester. I have
successfully finished this purpose. I have found fault, defect and disobedience in
all sons save one. Except for Your grace, they all would be condemned this day.”
“My servant . . . you have done no purpose of mine. Your every action has been an aversion to My will. You ran from your purpose. Your purpose was to serve, to be right here with Me even to this day. Not only did you not serve, not only did you not fulfill your purpose; more than that, you cursed into My face. You foolishly tried to draw weapons against Me; then, you woke up in a
dark place.”
“This thing you have been doing, this title of dragon, prince of demons, father of lies, servicer of sin for the system of shadows; this was not a purpose, it was an allowance of space awaiting this day, this day of judgment. I have allowed you to do your own will; a task which could have given to an earthen monkey. It was something for which you were particularly well suited; a quality tester, someone to bring resistance, temptation and continual opportunity for deviation, someone good at making a grand mess. You were at the top of My list.” “The only problem is that now I have come in with a mop; and worse
still, I really don’t have any more need for a mess maker.”
“Then You admit, You have needed me!” Lucifer defended. “As You know, for Your children to have choice, You needed my help!” “I am sorry… “ God turned with the hint of anger. “Did you just say that I needed your help? Did you just say that you have been doing My will? Did you say that you, and the angels that followed you, only wanted to be worthy enough to be called sons? Satan,” He tilted His Light upon him, “even as servants, I gave you the most powerful gift I had to give. I gave you choice.”
“Choice!” The devil scowled and gestured to mankind. “What choice? Just like the sons of flesh, I never understood any choice. And, just like the sons of flesh who have sought You after their fall, I deserve forgiveness. I deserve redemption.” “Forgiveness and redemption?” The Father’s Light left him. “Lucifer, you came to My throne and proclaimed Your “right” to eternity. You told Me to bow before You. You told My Son to bow before you. Then,” God’s presence became a deep shade of red, “you actually thought you could kill Me. What part of any of that did you not think was a bad idea?”
“That was a mistake my King.” He shamefully lowered his head. “I was drawn in to thoughts that were not of my nature. It was in the fellowship of those You appointed to be my council that the unthinkable occurred. You must hear my plea of innocence to this.” “Satan,” God’s voice settled in tone, “that was much more than a mistake.
And, the unthinkable that occurred is exactly your nature. Your actions are self evident of your heart. You defer blame when it is you who are the father of both pain and strife. You say “love” when you mean “hate”. You say “peace” when you mean “war”. I gave you Choice and you gave me lies. Satan, you are My cancer. I need to hear no plea from your lips. Nor, do I wish to hear your version of events. What I am telling you is this,” God came in close, “I have heard the last lie I care to hear from you..There is one thing you have missed...Indeed no one becomes less like Me than the one who tries to be Me"
“So, what about the x-angels? The seraphim?” He cried out and gestured to his bound hoards. "On the day we became what we are now, which of them held a sword to Your face? So tell me my loving King, these who only longed to serve You; what was their crime?” The light of creation moved slowly across all those held captive. “Their sin is the same as that which condemns the flesh; the greatest sin, the sin which summarizes all sins.”
God turned His back towards the devil. “They listened to you.”
