A Abba's Apocalypse Read online

  Others try coming from around the world to sneak in. They make attempts at entry through abandoned sea ports and airports. New California hides many of these through its sheer size, vast deserts, and inability to monitor them all. There are two categories of culprits. The first are those whom have taken the brand, but denied pass ports. These caught are “Demonized” by permanently relinquishing their bodies to the will of these unholy hosts. Not all LD sporting the brand has a Demon, but they do give them the right of

  passage to occasionally occupy their body. The demonic occupation process seems to cause extreme pain, which the LD overwhelmingly enjoy. I still have not figured out why brothers of the brand would turn on each other. I guess it is

  their evil selfish nature to enjoy pain no matter what its source.

  The infiltrating Irreverent are a different story. They do not have the brand. They have either evaded the branding process, or refused it and ran from the brand. If caught, they are given one last chance to accept the brand and sacrifice their souls and be slaves to these spirits of evil. Refusing souls are usually kept alive and fed a constant staple of torture. Hideous Demon spirits enjoy swirling around their scared prisoners’ just for the pleasure of their pain. They get great satisfaction devouring Irreverent cries for “mercy.” They’ll promise them possible release from their anguish if they’ll reveal the location of other Irreverent. The best you can hope for from these laughing liars is a slow death. I’ve seen this firsthand.

  I see “Project T,” or “T” for short. It is nothing more than a burned-out pile of rubble with a secret. I visually command Dave to “Move out,” as we begin circling the perimeter of “T”. We take turns observing and looking for signs of Demons or LD. They would love to destroy this place and torture us. I move back to the forest to find temporary cover. I conceal myself by squatting down behind a bush. We wait motionless for several minutes while intensely listening for any unusual sounds. We take one last look for anything out of place. I motion Dave to proceed cautiously to enter as I continue observing. If I detect any evil I’ll whistle to Dave to run for it. This is part of our early detection system; one observes while one plays the part of bait.

  Just to the side of the pile of debris, where a church once stood, is a rectangle stone with a cross cut in it. It lays flat like a grave marker. On it is a verse chiseled. The stone simply reads “2 Timothy 2:11-13.” The “T” in “Timothy” gives this

  place its name. The verse itself details our mission. Dave moves out and stops just short of the stone, and then pans over to me for a final confirmation. I view a quick 360 degrees observation, and then affirm with my hand gesture, “It’s safe.”

  Dave first pounce’s the stone down to unlock its hidden locking mechanism. Then, he moves the stone by sliding it away along its concealed rolling track. This reveals the hidden compartment just under its surface. He leaps in and motions to me to, “Move out.” He continues checking the surroundings as I “head out.” I keep my profile low as I run. I leap to where Dave is. We quickly grab the stone’s under side handle and slide it back to its original resting place. Lights’ lining the tunnel turn on as the stone jolts forward, and then mechanically locks in place. We descend into the refuge of its musky depths.

  I grab Dave and firmly slam him against the corridor wall. I look him square in the eyes and shout, “What the heck were you thinking by breaking in my house?” The grimmest look takes over Dave’s face, and then begins turning gently into a smile. The only thing I can do is hug him. I repeat, “What were you thinking you crazy fool?” He replies “Demons, Demons forced me!” He remembers something so terrible it causes him to tremble and shake loose our embrace. Dave is the closest thing I call family now. I murmur, “We’ll talk about this later buddy.”

  The man who created this labyrinth must have been divinely inspired. It seems it is supernaturally protected and prophetically supplied. I think to myself the Demons and agents of “Trinity” surely should know about this refuge. They have the resources to see everything and everyone. Demons have the ability to jump from victim to victim sporting “Trinity’s” seal of damnation. They learn all their host’s memories and use them as soldiers and spies in this dark war. I’ve seen the power the brand gives mortal bodies. The possessed body is given super strength. I saw an old lady lift a truck off a car to get to the Irreverent trapped inside.

  “Trinity” titles its members as Eternal Vestures in the Legion (E.V.I.L.). They choose “Trinity’s” mark for the power to buy, eat, and survive. They are also promised unnatural extended life spans. “Trinity” requires all its followers without

  question to obey its every command and worship its leaders. We are called Irreverent, because we refuse to worship this evil institution. We Irreverent, title the bunch as “Members of EVIL,” for short. They sold their souls and worship its “Trinity.” We refer to these living damned as LD. We call all who ran from the brand, “Brothers of LIVE.” We are also referred to as the Irreverent for violating acceptance of “Trinity’s” worship.

  This place is a fortress. One of our members discovered it shortly after “Harpazô Day.” That day a bright flash of light penetrated everything everywhere. All the news that day was reporting disaster after disaster. Their scientific experts stated the light came from some type of gamma ray burst from what must have been from a nearby star explosion. Then, the news noticed people just evaporated. Last count was about one in ten Americans vanished. About 350 million others were reported vaporized throughout the rest of the world. I didn’t believe the lie, because I knew the truth.

  I remember my liberal professors denying any legitimate Christian teaching. One stated, “These ‘wing nuts’ believe one day their God will come back from Heaven and snatch them all away. They call this event the ‘rapture’. This word is not even found in their Bible.” They were wrong like so many of us. That’s exactly what happened. That word is found in the scriptures by a different name. “Harpazô” means to quickly and suddenly snatch away. It’s like pulling a child from the path of a speeding vehicle.

  My idiot professors failed to perform any real digging before making such claims. I knew many intelligent fools teaching their unempirical views, damning those who’d trust their opinion. They’re all dead or LD now. I found out the term does exists. It is found in the 1,600 years old “Latin

  Vulgate Bible.” Harpazô translates into the Latin word for rapture. 1 Thessalonians 4:17 explains this event in detail. I believed all my tolerant liberal professors, with their tons of quick wit, but not a drop of real wisdom. I am learning a lot

  now while sorting through all the learning materials the former pastor left. There is a library of information down here.

  Chapter 2: The Chamber’s Secret

  We reach the end of the door-less corridor. There are only three things here. At eye level is a chiseled cinderblock. A cross and scripture reference to “2 Timothy 2:11-13” were carefully dug into it; in the same design as the entrance stone. Just below it, sits a bulging cloth atop a plain rustic altar. Lifting the cloth reveals a much worn Bible. A red string marks the page to that prolific passage. The words are: “If we have died with Him, we will also live with Him; if we endure, we will also reign with Him; if we deny Him, He will also deny us; if we are faithless, He remains faithful.” I realize these words to be the key to everything.

  This passage from “Timothy” is intended to touch the very soul. The safeguard to this system is a series of things that must be done to reveal its hidden treasures. “EVIL” could not and would not ever do the following. It seems the pastor knew this. Only a repentant response will start the unlocking procedure. And, only a truly repentant heart will find the hidden chamber. It starts by kneeling in repentance. Pressing the attached knee rest down moves the unlocking device. A truly repentant heart will then lean forward while clasping their hands in prayer on the altar’s table top. The combined continuous pressure on these devices set into action a simple mechanical time
r. A secret passage clicks unlocking its entry way when a prayer continues for one minute. This sound echoes throughout the chamber making its origins impossible to find, thus the entrance is impossible to find. The secret is in the cross. It took Paul a week to figure this out and what to do next.

  Paul is our new pastor. He had to keep resetting the locking system before finding the next chamber’s entrance. This took many attempts by resetting the device and trying, and retrying over and over. Resetting can only be done by sliding open and closing the original entrance stone. He was

  ready to give up in the midst of his weeping when a

  realization hit him. Revelation is found only in the cross itself. In his repentant position he touched the cross. He slid his finger tracing the cross’s incision feeling a slight burr of metal protruding. He pressed and slid it from the horizontal beam’s left side to its right side. Paul could hear stone rubbing against stone as something happened. There is a door in the floor half way back the corridor. It pops up only one half inch. Stepping on it will again lock it, and sound the intruder alarms in the underground cavern. You can step on the door and not even notice it. Its marble context matches the floor exactly. Sliding your feet is about the only way to find it. You will know it when you feel your shoe bump its lip.

  Dave repents as I lift the unlocked stone door. We step down into a virtual city of supplies and information. The original pastor built his church over what must have been a huge underground military bunker. We cannot stay down here long though. This place has limited living space. It’s dedicated essential to supplies we need for living. It has running water, a small complete bathroom, and electricity. None of us have figured out where the electricity is actually coming from. We’ve found the pump bringing in the well water, just not the source of its electricity. We believe the former pastor installed and hid some sort of protected solar power system somewhere around the neighborhood.

  Upon entering this lower chamber you’ll see a makeshift chapel. It can hold thirty two of us. We assemble here on Sunday only. This is where we plan, pray, and replenish. We would love to all take safe harbor here, but we cannot all fit. The “T” members all agree no one will live here. This place is for supplies, information, and Sunday worship only. The only other time it can be used is in extreme cases of emergencies-like Dave and I am currently in. Today is Thursday.

  There are several room entrances jutting off this corridor with the main supply chamber at the far end. The

  first room you’ll come to is the chapel. It’s on the left.

  A DVD dangles from a bent paperclip hanging over its entrance way. There is a laptop on a small table as you enter the chapel. I remember the first time I played that DVD. I live by its words now. “Don’t give up. You do have hope. You have repented and are covered with eternal grace of God’s mercy. Our God is on your side. He will help you. I will not lie to you. Your life will be extremely hard, brother, until Jesus returns with all the fellow Saints. You have one advantage no one has known before. You know exactly when Jesus will return. You have three options concerning your life here, and in eternity. One, don’t take the brand and stay alive exactly seven years. The seven year countdown starts on the exact day a particular man will broker a seven year peace accord between the Holy Land of Israel and its enemies. The second is being caught by the Son of Perdition or his followers. You will be tortured to death. Both of these options require extreme faith. There is one last option. It is to give up and believe his lies and wonders. Most everyone still alive will. You cannot and must not be willing to take this Great Deceiver’s mark. He may or may not end your torture. He might even promise you great powers and wonderful pleasures. But, it will be for a short time. He is the king of lies. You will know his mark. It will be his requirement to buy and sell. You will then worship him. His mark will be used to distinguish his followers. Stay away from him. Stay away from all his agents and his followers. They have sold their very soul to him. They are all damned to an eternity of pain in Hell.” This large black pastor left his words forever etched in my mind and in my heart. His last words were the most important. “The Holy Spirit now dwells in you my dear brother, and will help you towards Christ.” He left a file next to the laptop with written instruction surrounding the inventory of supplies and hundreds of one hour long DVD sermons. Each one’s filled with scriptures dealing with this particular time. We use a new one every Sunday. It gives us

  the strength we need to make it through each week. At my

  inauguration I was given: two each-three by five inch Bibles.

  One’s for my personal use and one is to give away when the proper time arises. Both are now hidden in my home.

  Dave and I grab a meal ration from the supply room and return to the sanctuary to eat. I decide again to ask Dave about what happened earlier at my house. He starts begging me to stay at my place. I gently try refreshing the rules us Irreverent brothers all agreed on. “It’s safer if we all remain separate.” Dave already knows no “T” member knows more than one other member’s address. This is to prevent a captured member from revealing more than one other member. The added benefit is each person is commanded to state they live alone, or with their family members only. The theory is: if a member is captured, the LD most likely would just execute their prisoner; since there is no reason to torture them. But, where there are two, there are more. You’d most likely be tortured and be in the midst of Demons, until you die; that’s if they’d let you die. One last point to being alone is: your senses are better to distinguish intruders. The theory is: you know the sounds you make. You can even smell trouble better. “Our senses would be confused Dave. I might not know whether you made a noise or a LD, or if you were causing a particular smell or if it was from another source. Our advance warning would be compromised. The odds are just so much better alone.” He starts sobbing, “I can’t do it any longer all alone. I’m so, so scared; especially at night!” He bends over into a sitting fetal position blubbering, “Oh God, pleeease help me-I just can’t take it anymore!” I knew he experienced something horrific before his earlier intrusion. I bend close to him and whisper, “I guess we’ll somehow do this together Dave; Lord willing.” He reaches his right arm over my left shoulder, cupping the back of my neck. He remains fetal and pulls me slightly towards him while reverently gulping, “Thank you, thank you, thank God, and thank God for you.”

  I give him a minute to gain himself. I tell Dave, “Come on buddy, we got to go. The Demons will be out soon.”

  Demons love the dark because of the fear it creates. We slide the entrance stone back over and dash, while bending over to run. We then race methodically to the tree line.

  Dave is bigger than me, but I’m battle tested in fear. It’s not that he’s weak; it’s just that I’ve been through more. I’ve seen war and experienced suffering. I guess my life has more surrealistic moments than most others. His life has been more real. Well, at least till “Harpazô Day.” That day he lost his wife, Becky, and his kids, Sammy, and Brittney. That day he also lost his mind.

  Dave heard something come on the news at work that day, while I was working under my truck in my garage at home. I drive a “big rig” across country for a living; or I used to. I live by myself, so I was not alerted to what was happening. I figured something was wrong a couple hours after. I live on the outskirts of town. Most all of the activity was in town a few miles away. I heard sirens screaming by my house; one chasing after the other. After the third one passed I rolled out from under my truck and lifted my garage door. There were pillars and pillars of fire off in the distance. Each one was belching enormous amounts of filthy dark smoke. Not the regular black smoke that comes from the occasional forest or house fire. I saw this type only in war. Only JP 5 (jet fuel) burning fuselage cause fires like these. It burns everything it touches with the heat of Hell itself. I knew each pile had a fuselage, and each one took a lot of lives. As I was looking, a fire engine and several rescue trucks raced towards the closest p
illar of smoke about 8 miles past town. I counted a dozen fires before deciding to go help.

  Dave told me he raced out of work after hearing the commotion and mayhem coming from outside. Dave’s first concern was to go check on his family, but when he got outside he walked into a different world. He saw car after car crushed in accidences everywhere.

  People were frantically running and screaming. Some were grotesquely injured and others ran mentally impaired.

  He tried to maneuver around all the devastation and drive home, but there were too many deformed vehicles and dead bodies in his way. Dave leaped from his car and started running towards home. He tried calling, but all communication went haywire. He remembered chanting, “My babies, my Becky,” like a cadence, all the way home. But, he didn’t get that far. He found a “big rig” with two cars crushed under it. He recognized Becky’s license plate ID. He dropped to his knees yelling, “My God,” as he continued crawling over the bloody asphalt towards the mangled mess. He imagined what he knew he’d see, but he was wrong. All the doors were compressed way past the point of opening. He could only frantically reach his arm inside to feel around, and felt no one. He then replaced his arm with his face through the broken window hole. There was no blood and no bodies in the wreckage. The last thing he saw was the clothes he remembered them wearing when he left for work that morning. The only thing he found in the car that day was three distinct sets of clothes in three individual piles. That’s when he lost his mind.

  Dave leaps ahead of me taking point. I carefully scour the surroundings. We are close to home and it’s getting shades darker. It’s pretty close to sunset now. I suddenly spot a female LD, and worse-she sees me! My only defense is to stay far enough away so it can’t spot the fake “Trinity” brand on my forehead. I shake internally as I stand in my fear, but I remain unemotional exteriorly. I decide to fake that my shoe came untied and bend over to hide my forehead in the process. I begin silently praying for divine protection that she stays far enough away from me that our spirits won’t conflict. If she gets to close she’ll be able to sense my spirit is sanctified. I nod a “good day” and stand to notice her empty presence continue walking by on the opposite side of the street.