Its Michael on the phone her father had said to Sheree, his face contorted in worry and fear. She knew what the call was about, Sheree felt strong, God was on her side, she could feel His hand guiding her. It had ever since the tent meeting. The meeting in which she saw the hand of God straighten her body, bringing her out of the wheel chair allowing her to walk again, strengthening her voice box allowing her to talk again.
Talking on the phone to Michael, listening to the fear in his voice brought the memory of the tent flooding back. Michael had been so afraid then, his voice small, and child like, it was the same as what Sheree heard now. She hadnt felt fear, yet knew she should, as three great angels walked towards her. People falling from their seats onto the floor in an unconscious state. The angel that lead, had the face of a lion, the body of a man, he didnt walk yet swept along the floor towards her. His hands, were scarred with two square holes, his eyes piercingly cold, yet brilliantly blue. He looked ferocious, but caused no fear. The angels that walked behind him, singing their way up the aisle. The sound of their voices rocked the tent and stage, so shrill, almost lost to the human ear. Tears flowed from their eyes, their hands raised to the heavens as they screeched the words Holy over and over. Their voices deafening the screams of the people, running for their cars.
Sheree stood upon the stage, watching in amazement, her legs surging with the healing power of God, for the first time in her life, she felt the ground under her feet. She felt her stomach churning, as she walked slowly yet steadily toward the leading angel, holding out her hands, she felt the first movements of her lips, and the first vibrations of her voice box as she listened to her voice scream from the pits of her stomach Glory, Glory, Glory.
White light dripped from the roof, covering her in what should have felt wet, perhaps sticky, yet had no feel at all. The light flooded the tent, swarming around her ankles, completely engulfing her father and step mother who lay on the stage, knocking over the upright seats in its torrents. Sheree looked out over the empty tent, seeing only one soul standing, his arms outstretched above him, his lips moving fervently in a silent prayer. A small wiry man, he reminded her of her fathers martial arts instructor. Her head was spinning with elation, and joy, when suddenly a voice, so loud that the stage beneath her shook, causing her knees to tremble and buckle underneath her. The angels who had been standing watching her, continuously singing their song of praise, took her by the arm, guiding her to the ground, where she sat on her knees.
Your path has been chosen Sheree, you are My warrior, and it is My will that you work the work of righteousness the voice boomed.
Her eyes, filled with tears, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
Thankyou
Her mind came back to Michael who sounded afraid; he was frantically telling her about a man named Joshua who had contacted him. Michael hadnt been a strong man, he had lost a lot of faith, she had overheard her father and stepmother talking about him one night long after his wife and daughter died. Sheree felt great love for him; she had known him all her life. He had helped raise her after her mother had died. But Sheree knew that God had a plan put in place for the both of them, she knew that they were both integral to the battle of righteousness, Sheree knew that evil would be defeated. But there she stood, in the darkened corridor, of her home, the smell of her step mothers steak dinner, the dirty dishes still stacked in the sink of the kitchen, the sound of the news on television, reporting another war, the clock next to her ever ticking, and her father and step mother chatting about what bills they had to pay the following day. The days had grown dark, and Sheree felt a shiver run the length of her spine, as the chill of the nights had become colder.
Every night since the tent meeting she watched as various demons attached themselves to her father and her stepmother, hideous ugly creatures, their eyes blackened and like ash, their smiles toothless and green. Their voices raspy and full of hatred. They were demons that represented untruthfulness, lust, hatred, and murder and despise. She prayed for her father and step mother every day, most of the time in secret, as the demons began to integrate into her parents, they became increasingly irritated with her love of God.
Her stepmother one slapping her face, out of anger, when Sheree spoke of the demon that had attached itself to her back. She watched as its eyes lit up to a glowing red, in excitement. The pain that it had caused Sheree, by taking over the one she loved. Sheree drew herself up as tall as she could, narrowing her eyes, placing her hand on her stepmothers shoulder, on top of the demons head, who screamed in pain, bright light flooded her stepmother, spewing forth, penetrating the demon, until there was nothing left other than a pile of ash at her stepmothers feet. It didnt take long though until the next demon arrived. Climbing its way up her stepmothers legs with it bat like arms, digging its long spiny nails into her calf to gain leverage, until it made its way to her shoulder, this one, scarred, like a burn victim, bald and only holes where its eyes should have been. The memory of it made Sheree shudder.
Sheree didnt bother to try and explain to her parents what was about to happen; she felt they wouldnt believe her anyway. So after packing her bag she made her own way to Michaels home. She could see his home from her own front door, by the immense light that shot into the sky, and the huge angel wings that towered over the roofs in the neighbourhood. The wings of eagles and the beautiful faces of men stood in guard, protecting her friend and mentor. She had found him on his bedroom floor, praying so hard, his sweat dripping from his forehead, it wasnt until she took him outside that she had seen that his sweat was actually blood that had been oozing from the pores of his skin.
As they stood in awe of Gods wonder, they heard a car pull up behind him. Sitting in the front seat was the same small wiry man that Sheree had seen praying in the tent, the night of her healing. He walked very quickly and surely towards them, holding out his bony hand introducing himself as Joshua. Michael stood to her side looking nervous, like a schoolboy being disciplined. They followed Joshua to his car, and climbing inside he began to tell them of what God had shown him in his kitchen, earlier that evening. They each took it in turns to tell their story.
Well I guess we need to go find the others Joshua said, taking out his pad and pen, scratching out Sherees name.
Sheree watched the neighbourhood she knew as her home, speed past her, as they left, never to return. Never to see her father and stepmother again. She watched, as what were once humans had now become demons, deformed, dark, horrid, and full of hate, they stared at the car, whispering to one another, knowing what was coming, ready to launch the attack, ready to try and defeat the righteous, determined to win their war. Out on the highway she could see them, their red eyes staring out at the car, watching, waiting, ever diligent to their master, the master of darkness.
(c) Samantha King.
Talking on the phone to Michael, listening to the fear in his voice brought the memory of the tent flooding back. Michael had been so afraid then, his voice small, and child like, it was the same as what Sheree heard now. She hadnt felt fear, yet knew she should, as three great angels walked towards her. People falling from their seats onto the floor in an unconscious state. The angel that lead, had the face of a lion, the body of a man, he didnt walk yet swept along the floor towards her. His hands, were scarred with two square holes, his eyes piercingly cold, yet brilliantly blue. He looked ferocious, but caused no fear. The angels that walked behind him, singing their way up the aisle. The sound of their voices rocked the tent and stage, so shrill, almost lost to the human ear. Tears flowed from their eyes, their hands raised to the heavens as they screeched the words Holy over and over. Their voices deafening the screams of the people, running for their cars.
Sheree stood upon the stage, watching in amazement, her legs surging with the healing power of God, for the first time in her life, she felt the ground under her feet. She felt her stomach churning, as she walked slowly yet steadily toward the leading angel, holding out her hands, she felt the first movements of her lips, and the first vibrations of her voice box as she listened to her voice scream from the pits of her stomach Glory, Glory, Glory.
White light dripped from the roof, covering her in what should have felt wet, perhaps sticky, yet had no feel at all. The light flooded the tent, swarming around her ankles, completely engulfing her father and step mother who lay on the stage, knocking over the upright seats in its torrents. Sheree looked out over the empty tent, seeing only one soul standing, his arms outstretched above him, his lips moving fervently in a silent prayer. A small wiry man, he reminded her of her fathers martial arts instructor. Her head was spinning with elation, and joy, when suddenly a voice, so loud that the stage beneath her shook, causing her knees to tremble and buckle underneath her. The angels who had been standing watching her, continuously singing their song of praise, took her by the arm, guiding her to the ground, where she sat on her knees.
Your path has been chosen Sheree, you are My warrior, and it is My will that you work the work of righteousness the voice boomed.
Her eyes, filled with tears, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
Thankyou
Her mind came back to Michael who sounded afraid; he was frantically telling her about a man named Joshua who had contacted him. Michael hadnt been a strong man, he had lost a lot of faith, she had overheard her father and stepmother talking about him one night long after his wife and daughter died. Sheree felt great love for him; she had known him all her life. He had helped raise her after her mother had died. But Sheree knew that God had a plan put in place for the both of them, she knew that they were both integral to the battle of righteousness, Sheree knew that evil would be defeated. But there she stood, in the darkened corridor, of her home, the smell of her step mothers steak dinner, the dirty dishes still stacked in the sink of the kitchen, the sound of the news on television, reporting another war, the clock next to her ever ticking, and her father and step mother chatting about what bills they had to pay the following day. The days had grown dark, and Sheree felt a shiver run the length of her spine, as the chill of the nights had become colder.
Every night since the tent meeting she watched as various demons attached themselves to her father and her stepmother, hideous ugly creatures, their eyes blackened and like ash, their smiles toothless and green. Their voices raspy and full of hatred. They were demons that represented untruthfulness, lust, hatred, and murder and despise. She prayed for her father and step mother every day, most of the time in secret, as the demons began to integrate into her parents, they became increasingly irritated with her love of God.
Her stepmother one slapping her face, out of anger, when Sheree spoke of the demon that had attached itself to her back. She watched as its eyes lit up to a glowing red, in excitement. The pain that it had caused Sheree, by taking over the one she loved. Sheree drew herself up as tall as she could, narrowing her eyes, placing her hand on her stepmothers shoulder, on top of the demons head, who screamed in pain, bright light flooded her stepmother, spewing forth, penetrating the demon, until there was nothing left other than a pile of ash at her stepmothers feet. It didnt take long though until the next demon arrived. Climbing its way up her stepmothers legs with it bat like arms, digging its long spiny nails into her calf to gain leverage, until it made its way to her shoulder, this one, scarred, like a burn victim, bald and only holes where its eyes should have been. The memory of it made Sheree shudder.
Sheree didnt bother to try and explain to her parents what was about to happen; she felt they wouldnt believe her anyway. So after packing her bag she made her own way to Michaels home. She could see his home from her own front door, by the immense light that shot into the sky, and the huge angel wings that towered over the roofs in the neighbourhood. The wings of eagles and the beautiful faces of men stood in guard, protecting her friend and mentor. She had found him on his bedroom floor, praying so hard, his sweat dripping from his forehead, it wasnt until she took him outside that she had seen that his sweat was actually blood that had been oozing from the pores of his skin.
As they stood in awe of Gods wonder, they heard a car pull up behind him. Sitting in the front seat was the same small wiry man that Sheree had seen praying in the tent, the night of her healing. He walked very quickly and surely towards them, holding out his bony hand introducing himself as Joshua. Michael stood to her side looking nervous, like a schoolboy being disciplined. They followed Joshua to his car, and climbing inside he began to tell them of what God had shown him in his kitchen, earlier that evening. They each took it in turns to tell their story.
Well I guess we need to go find the others Joshua said, taking out his pad and pen, scratching out Sherees name.
Sheree watched the neighbourhood she knew as her home, speed past her, as they left, never to return. Never to see her father and stepmother again. She watched, as what were once humans had now become demons, deformed, dark, horrid, and full of hate, they stared at the car, whispering to one another, knowing what was coming, ready to launch the attack, ready to try and defeat the righteous, determined to win their war. Out on the highway she could see them, their red eyes staring out at the car, watching, waiting, ever diligent to their master, the master of darkness.
(c) Samantha King.
