Encounters with angels extract 4
Josh felt himself slipping down, down, down, into the darkness of sleep; into a world of red eyes and murky shadows, and far in the distance a mighty rider on a white horse followed by an angelic host. He could not see him very well, though he recognised him as the figure from Revelations. He could only barely discern the writing on his thigh saying King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and with it he felt such a yearning to reach out to him from afar, call him by his name which he remembered to be ‘The Word of God’, and go on horseback with him again, but he realised that he was desperately separated from him by a gulf of darkness and a sea of red malicious eyes, all peering at him, jeering and laughing menacingly. And with them were pointing fingers and red tongues sticking out and mocking, mocking endlessly.
‘Kings of Kings….ah, ah, ah; Lords of Lords, ah, ah. Ah… Where’s the horse now, gone forever? You can never go to heaven. Stay with us in the darkness. You will find endless excitement. Stick with us, Josh Balmore. Don’t look back. We’ll give you more….more.….more.
In the meantime Josh felt that he was fast receding from the rider and his horse, as a powerful force was sucking him downwards, away from the rider and into a chute that took him to a vast and unfathomable space. He could still see the rider in the distance but he felt separated from him by an unbridgeable gulf, as if he was on the larger side of a binocular lenses, looking through and perceiving the horse at a the far end of a horizon which was the smaller end of the lenses. Try as he might, he could not bridge the gap, and the whole universe was the very distance between him and the King. He stretched his arms across that infinite expanse and cried out, “No…no…no… don’t let me go! Don’t back off! Don’t abandon me. I’ll abandon the stones, the stars and the crystal, if only you would do something to rescue me.” But to no avail. The distance between Josh and the rider became a chasm he could not bridge.
Chapter 26 – Descent into the Abyss
He found himself dropping deep, deep, into a darkness which was total. He was surrounded by pitch black, and finally he reached rock bottom. “Where am I? Where am I?” He asked. “Outer darkness, outer darkness,” whispered voices all around him. He felt this darkness close in on him till it nearly suffocated him. How he wished he could still see the rider on the horse. How he wished the King would come and rescue him. He whispered very faintly in his heart with what little breath he still possessed, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords. King of Kings and Lord of Lords, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” Then quite suddenly a shaft of light reached out to him from what seemed to be a great throne above. It lifted him from this pit of darkness and brought him out into a spacious place. The sight of the throne disappeared. But he felt free again and he saw the rider on the white horse beckoning him. Yet he felt unable to move. He stood there watching the rider and wishing he could move but he felt weak and glued to the spot.
A set of malevolent eyes appeared before him beckoning him to approach. “Come,” a voice said, “you don’t have to go the boring way. We will show you the way home, and if you stick with us, we’ll lead you into a far greater place, where you can exercise infinitely more powerful magic.” The eyes were magnetic, and Josh found them hard to resist, but having been rescued out of the pit, he didn’t want to risk going there again. He wanted nothing to do with these powers of evil. The eyes were definitely demon eyes. He was sure of that. He felt helpless. He could not reach out to the rider, despite all his yearning. He could still see him from the corner of his eye. And the demon was offering him more power for which he still had a taste. “May be it was the demon who rescued him? May be he sent that shaft of light to get him out?” Yet this thought seemed implausible. “Demons do not send out light,” he thought to himself. He felt helpless and clueless. The eyes were still there glimmering and mesmerizing him into consent contrary to his will.
“”I tell you what,” a voice said again, smooth and tempting, “we’ll take you over to the biggest Satanic temple. There you will see marvels you have never dreamed of. Then you will have the choice to stay with us or go home, and that’s a sealed promise. Come!”
Josh felt a tugging at his wrist, then he realised that he was attached to a rope which caused him to speed behind a dark figure which he presumed to be the body relating to the eyes.
“Hey!” He shouted, “What are you doing? I didn’t say yes!”
“You are abandoned by the rider and his armies. They have no use for you anymore. You have no choice but to come with me. When we finish our visit at the Satanist’s temple, you can choose to return to your normal life, and no one will harm you or force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Josh found himself speeding through the dark spaces of limbo with only a glimpse of the rider’s image far behind him. The thought of goodness and light receded behind him as a faint and unreal promise, and he pondered how foolish he had been not to find a way of getting to the rider straight away, and how now he lost his chance of ever joining any noble plan or scheme or leading a normal and ordinary life at home. The demon did say he will let him go after this next experience. Yet Josh felt there was always the danger that this experience will envelope him like besmearing cobwebs, till he wouldn’t even be able to make the right choice. He felt weak and lost. He had no choice but to abandon himself to fate and trust that something will work out for good. The malicious thunderous laughter of many malevolent creatures could be heard all around him as he sped behind the demon figure, and he felt sick, sick as a wounded hyena. The same voice that spoke to him before with its fantastic offers of power, spoke again saying, “Do not be afraid, Josh Balmore, you are safe here with me and malice will not touch you.” This promise which he was not sure he could trust, comforted him a little, and he let himself speed quietly, behind his demon ‘friend’. As they flew on, he thought he saw ravens piercing the darkness, flying noisily in front of them, leading them forward. Their crowing screeches nearly deafened him. From afar, beyond the spear head of ravens, Josh thought he could glimpse the top part of a temple. It was faint, shimmering red and stood on top of a mountain shrouded in dark clouds. The picture before him was very faded and he could not figure out the terrain. Quite suddenly, like a shooting arrow, he found himself hurled down towards it, led by the demon and accompanied by the flock of crows. Then his consciousness was blanked out as he sank to the ground like a stone.
He found himself in a lit up room with tall ceilings. Right in front of him he saw a dark cross and on it the body of a child tied down, dead. He was struck with horror, collapsed to his knees, limp; his body like jelly. His muscles seemed about to melt into liquid. From that position he continued to look around. The light in the temple was dazzling and apart from the horrifying sight of the cross, the rest of the place looked pristine and striking. The walls of the temple were like pillars of stalagmites and from the ceiling protruded sleekly shaped stalactites. The whole place was majestic but cold, and stylishly harsh. The demon voice spoke to him, though Josh could not see him. “As from now, you will be able to observe what happens but you will take no part in any of the events, nor will you be seen. Therefore, be sure to remain silent, in order to keep your invisibility. Do not even open your mouth to speak or scream, for if you do, you will spoil your chances of returning home. So shut up and watch.”
Josh trembled at the thought that he might speak or scream, if by chance he got out of control. He feared his reactions since he didn’t know what he might experience. So for the first time since he was rescued from the pit, he decided to pray, asking for protection and the ability to hold his tongue. He felt more secure now and just sat there flaccid and glued to the ground.
From a crack in the right hand wall, there appeared the figure of a priest. He wore a blood red gown and a pointed red hat like a clown’s, only much sleeker, and not at all jolly. His face was white, and his dark eyes were piercing arrows. He walked over to the cross, and chuckling to himself, he slowly untied the body which hung on it and shouted out a name, “Martha!!!!”
Within seconds there appeared a woman with black hair, with frightened dark eyes, a sack cloth on her body and crouching on all four. She growled something which first sounded like crunching and munching noises but felt like an answer to his summons. “Answer like a woman, not like a dog, you bitch!” the priest said than burst into a harsh laughter at his own joke. “Here,” he said when he finished laughing, “take this body and put it on the burner outside in the yard. It served its purpose. Then come back and take this bowl of blood. They will need it for the next ritual. Go on, get on with it, you dog specimen of a cow.” He burst into a malevolent laughter again and kicked her on her side. She screeched, then got up on her feet and took the body with her, hugging it and whining as she ran out. She then returned and picked up the bowl of blood but did not go out straight away. She stood there and watched the priest stroking the length of the cross mumbling some semi audible words which sounded like a prayer or a chant. She watched, and watched, then turned around, bent over, obviously distraught.
Josh continued to observe the scene with quiet horror. Who was this woman? Was she the child’s mother? Or maybe just a servant forced to do this job. He had no idea. He looked at the woman as she walked out hesitantly with the bowl of blood in her shaking hands, and thought he heard her say, “O no, not another one of these poor little mites. These people are savages, savages; subhuman. May they rot in hell forever.” Having said this, she turned right away and shuffled hurriedly to the exit through the crack on the right, before anyone who mattered could hear her; not that she seemed to care much what would happen to her. Finally, once again, there was silence in the hall.
The priest stood in front of the cross, shaking his hand dismissively in the direction of the woman. He then bent down and took a wet cloth out of a small bowl on the side and began to clean the cross, along its length and width. When he was satisfied that it was clean, he dropped the cloth back into the bowl and turned around facing Josh, whom of course he could not see. He put both his hands together in front of his mouth, in the familiar prayer position and began to pray.
“Kala kola, kili kola, kiri kora KA” He pronounced these words harshly and powerfully asserting his strength. Then he continued in normal speech.
“Give us power, O mighty dragon, who lives in the heavens and rules the world. Jesus Christ will never reign so long as we worship you. Take these sacrifices and turn them to strength, power and might that will give us victory. We will destroy the whole world and its fancy goodness, till not a shred of light remains. And darkness will rule, forever a trend. Come, Come, O mighty beast! We worship you, we love your power, defeat the angels and all of Christ’s prowess. Let us wreak havoc, destroy and shed blood, till the whole world bends the knee to our might!”
Josh was fascinated by the power and ecstasy with which the priest spoke these words. He found himself drawn again to the power of the dark forces he knew before this journey. He remembered his stones and their magic with renewed excitement. He felt drawn to the power and the ecstasy with which he was already familiar. He was glued to the priest, his red hood, his red gown and his bright eyes blazing with energy. He seemed to have regained some of his strength, and his fear left him. May be he is amongst his own, may be this is where he is meant to be? He felt more relaxed and waited to see what would happen next.
And then, without a warning, he heard the shuffling of feet, and the wailing of a woman who entered the hall from the left. Behind her was a boy, his hands tied with a rope in front of him. The woman’s hands were tied behind her back with the same rope which proceeded from his hands. The boy was blind folded. Behind, and alongside the boy were four priests dressed in red gowns and a red hood, like the first priest. On the right hand of each gown was a print of an evil face, with malicious eyes, a nasty smile and pointed ears. The first priest who conducted the prayer had a black star at the end of his hood but these priests’ hoods were starless. The boy, aged about ten, resembled the woman. Josh assumed she was his mother. On her neck there was a huge gold cross, her hair was tangled and her face tear stained. The company proceeded into the hall, mother and son subdued and hopeless. The priests pushed the boy in front of the chief priest who came down the steps leading down from the cross. The boy seemed to offer no resistance. The priest stood and smiled and stretched his arms forward to receive the boy. The mother began to wail and the priest who seemed bemused at the noise she made, motioned to one of the other priests to deal with her. Very quickly and without much ado, one of the priests on the boy’s left hand side, took a syringe out of his pocket, approached the woman briskly and injected her arm with what must have been some kind of a tranquilizer, for she immediately became limp and silent. She collapsed to the floor, tugging the boy down with her. Another priest hurried over and cut the rope with a pair of clippers which he took out of his pocket, preventing the boy from collapsing alongside his mother. It was obvious that the boy was unaware of things around him. He winced a little when he heard his mother wail, but restrained himself from reacting, probably remembering what had happened last time he reacted. And now, all together, and very efficiently, the priests lifted the boy up and tied him to the cross. He was still silent.
They now stood all around the cross with the chief priest at the centre and began to chant a malevolent chant that filled Josh’s heart with terror. As their chanting reached great ecstasy, so the chief priest reached his hands into his pockets, taking two big nails from his left pocket and a hammer from the right. Very swiftly, he lifted his right hand up to the cross and began to nail in the boy’s hand, eliciting sharp screams from the boy’s lips even before the nail was quite through. The rest of the priests were ecstatic and began to dance and chant even more ferociously. Josh froze to the ground, sick and petrified. In a way, he was detached from what he was seeing, and still somewhat in the grip of the ecstatic power that just gripped him earlier. But, the boy’s screams brought him back to the reality of the evil he was witnessing. The pain and horror were so great that he decided to pray. In the corner of his vision, as if one of his eyes could see into the dark space from which he came, he could see the rider on his horse, faintly present. He was unable to pray effectively, for his body was limp and his will nullified. Squeamish and limp, helplessness engulfed him all round, weakening him nearly beyond retrieve. The boy on the cross was bleeding by now from both hands and his screams rose to high heaven. Josh thought he was going to die just from hearing the screams. The light in the hall was fiercely bright and even if he wanted to hide he couldn’t. He put both his hands over his ears and let his head fall forward to minimize the experience, but he knew that nothing would now protect him from this hell. He bent forward and waited for this vile experience to end.
Then he heard the familiar voice of his accompanying demon speak with a smooth obsequious voice, “Well, how would you like to join us then? This ceremony gains untold power to our congregations throughout the world, should you join us, you will partake in its power and be able to live here as a priest when you grow up.” Josh felt unable to answer this smooth and slimy voice, for he knew that if he opened his mouth he would scream the full measure of his disgust, and then he would spoil his chances of getting back home safe.
“No. no, no,” he said in his mind over and over again, shutting them tight, and trying to imagine the rider on the horse, or Rachel, or home.
He would give anything to be lifted out of this place and never set eyes on this temple again. But he was unable to summon his own departure. His dependence on the demon to lead him out again was absolute. He knew the demon would do everything in his power to hang onto him and convince him to continue within his camp. His persistent slimy voice rang in his ears again and again, “well, well, well, would you like to join us, share our power, share our power, share our power…..” The voice went on repeating itself, piercing Josh’s fragile brain and tormenting him. No matter how many times Josh said no in his mind, he could not stop this voice from repeating itself, and so he realised the trap that was set for him. He had to speak his answer out loud in order to be released, but if he spoke it out loud he would be discovered, seen by the priests and then there was no telling what his end would be.
The demon tricked him and trapped him and now his only option was to scream or go mad with the demon’s repeated voice in his head. His only real choice was to scream and hope for the best. Inside his heart he asked for help as he glimpsed the rider on the horse. The pressure in his head mounted as the demon’s words repeatedly demanded an answer. The bleeding boy on the cross and the frantic trance of the priests all together nearly drove him insane. He shut his eyes even harder, put his hands over his head and screamed with all his might,
“No, no, no! You slimy, stupid blighter! I shall not join you, not ever, not even if you decide to kill me.”
The demon’s voice stopped outright. Josh’s scream rose up to the hall’s ceiling like an aroma. It could even be seen as a little red cloud resting right in the middle of the dome- like ceiling. The priests who could now see josh far in the back of the hall, stopped in their tracks, mid ceremony, and conferred amongst themselves. Before they even had a chance to start towards Josh, a thick ray of light shone from above the ceiling reaching down to Josh, covering him and preventing the priests’ approach. Josh felt himself being lifted up, up, upwards into the heavens. The hall disappeared and with it the blazing light that shone harshly throughout Josh’s stay. He could see it receding behind him, becoming a tiny dot, its light still harsh but no longer affecting him. He was back in the place where he met with the demon eyes and the distant vision of the rider and his horse. He sat there in mid darkness overwhelmed with the consciousness of his narrow escape. He wondered what would happen next.
‘Kings of Kings….ah, ah, ah; Lords of Lords, ah, ah. Ah… Where’s the horse now, gone forever? You can never go to heaven. Stay with us in the darkness. You will find endless excitement. Stick with us, Josh Balmore. Don’t look back. We’ll give you more….more.….more.
In the meantime Josh felt that he was fast receding from the rider and his horse, as a powerful force was sucking him downwards, away from the rider and into a chute that took him to a vast and unfathomable space. He could still see the rider in the distance but he felt separated from him by an unbridgeable gulf, as if he was on the larger side of a binocular lenses, looking through and perceiving the horse at a the far end of a horizon which was the smaller end of the lenses. Try as he might, he could not bridge the gap, and the whole universe was the very distance between him and the King. He stretched his arms across that infinite expanse and cried out, “No…no…no… don’t let me go! Don’t back off! Don’t abandon me. I’ll abandon the stones, the stars and the crystal, if only you would do something to rescue me.” But to no avail. The distance between Josh and the rider became a chasm he could not bridge.
Chapter 26 – Descent into the Abyss
He found himself dropping deep, deep, into a darkness which was total. He was surrounded by pitch black, and finally he reached rock bottom. “Where am I? Where am I?” He asked. “Outer darkness, outer darkness,” whispered voices all around him. He felt this darkness close in on him till it nearly suffocated him. How he wished he could still see the rider on the horse. How he wished the King would come and rescue him. He whispered very faintly in his heart with what little breath he still possessed, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords. King of Kings and Lord of Lords, King of Kings and Lord of Lords.” Then quite suddenly a shaft of light reached out to him from what seemed to be a great throne above. It lifted him from this pit of darkness and brought him out into a spacious place. The sight of the throne disappeared. But he felt free again and he saw the rider on the white horse beckoning him. Yet he felt unable to move. He stood there watching the rider and wishing he could move but he felt weak and glued to the spot.
A set of malevolent eyes appeared before him beckoning him to approach. “Come,” a voice said, “you don’t have to go the boring way. We will show you the way home, and if you stick with us, we’ll lead you into a far greater place, where you can exercise infinitely more powerful magic.” The eyes were magnetic, and Josh found them hard to resist, but having been rescued out of the pit, he didn’t want to risk going there again. He wanted nothing to do with these powers of evil. The eyes were definitely demon eyes. He was sure of that. He felt helpless. He could not reach out to the rider, despite all his yearning. He could still see him from the corner of his eye. And the demon was offering him more power for which he still had a taste. “May be it was the demon who rescued him? May be he sent that shaft of light to get him out?” Yet this thought seemed implausible. “Demons do not send out light,” he thought to himself. He felt helpless and clueless. The eyes were still there glimmering and mesmerizing him into consent contrary to his will.
“”I tell you what,” a voice said again, smooth and tempting, “we’ll take you over to the biggest Satanic temple. There you will see marvels you have never dreamed of. Then you will have the choice to stay with us or go home, and that’s a sealed promise. Come!”
Josh felt a tugging at his wrist, then he realised that he was attached to a rope which caused him to speed behind a dark figure which he presumed to be the body relating to the eyes.
“Hey!” He shouted, “What are you doing? I didn’t say yes!”
“You are abandoned by the rider and his armies. They have no use for you anymore. You have no choice but to come with me. When we finish our visit at the Satanist’s temple, you can choose to return to your normal life, and no one will harm you or force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Josh found himself speeding through the dark spaces of limbo with only a glimpse of the rider’s image far behind him. The thought of goodness and light receded behind him as a faint and unreal promise, and he pondered how foolish he had been not to find a way of getting to the rider straight away, and how now he lost his chance of ever joining any noble plan or scheme or leading a normal and ordinary life at home. The demon did say he will let him go after this next experience. Yet Josh felt there was always the danger that this experience will envelope him like besmearing cobwebs, till he wouldn’t even be able to make the right choice. He felt weak and lost. He had no choice but to abandon himself to fate and trust that something will work out for good. The malicious thunderous laughter of many malevolent creatures could be heard all around him as he sped behind the demon figure, and he felt sick, sick as a wounded hyena. The same voice that spoke to him before with its fantastic offers of power, spoke again saying, “Do not be afraid, Josh Balmore, you are safe here with me and malice will not touch you.” This promise which he was not sure he could trust, comforted him a little, and he let himself speed quietly, behind his demon ‘friend’. As they flew on, he thought he saw ravens piercing the darkness, flying noisily in front of them, leading them forward. Their crowing screeches nearly deafened him. From afar, beyond the spear head of ravens, Josh thought he could glimpse the top part of a temple. It was faint, shimmering red and stood on top of a mountain shrouded in dark clouds. The picture before him was very faded and he could not figure out the terrain. Quite suddenly, like a shooting arrow, he found himself hurled down towards it, led by the demon and accompanied by the flock of crows. Then his consciousness was blanked out as he sank to the ground like a stone.
He found himself in a lit up room with tall ceilings. Right in front of him he saw a dark cross and on it the body of a child tied down, dead. He was struck with horror, collapsed to his knees, limp; his body like jelly. His muscles seemed about to melt into liquid. From that position he continued to look around. The light in the temple was dazzling and apart from the horrifying sight of the cross, the rest of the place looked pristine and striking. The walls of the temple were like pillars of stalagmites and from the ceiling protruded sleekly shaped stalactites. The whole place was majestic but cold, and stylishly harsh. The demon voice spoke to him, though Josh could not see him. “As from now, you will be able to observe what happens but you will take no part in any of the events, nor will you be seen. Therefore, be sure to remain silent, in order to keep your invisibility. Do not even open your mouth to speak or scream, for if you do, you will spoil your chances of returning home. So shut up and watch.”
Josh trembled at the thought that he might speak or scream, if by chance he got out of control. He feared his reactions since he didn’t know what he might experience. So for the first time since he was rescued from the pit, he decided to pray, asking for protection and the ability to hold his tongue. He felt more secure now and just sat there flaccid and glued to the ground.
From a crack in the right hand wall, there appeared the figure of a priest. He wore a blood red gown and a pointed red hat like a clown’s, only much sleeker, and not at all jolly. His face was white, and his dark eyes were piercing arrows. He walked over to the cross, and chuckling to himself, he slowly untied the body which hung on it and shouted out a name, “Martha!!!!”
Within seconds there appeared a woman with black hair, with frightened dark eyes, a sack cloth on her body and crouching on all four. She growled something which first sounded like crunching and munching noises but felt like an answer to his summons. “Answer like a woman, not like a dog, you bitch!” the priest said than burst into a harsh laughter at his own joke. “Here,” he said when he finished laughing, “take this body and put it on the burner outside in the yard. It served its purpose. Then come back and take this bowl of blood. They will need it for the next ritual. Go on, get on with it, you dog specimen of a cow.” He burst into a malevolent laughter again and kicked her on her side. She screeched, then got up on her feet and took the body with her, hugging it and whining as she ran out. She then returned and picked up the bowl of blood but did not go out straight away. She stood there and watched the priest stroking the length of the cross mumbling some semi audible words which sounded like a prayer or a chant. She watched, and watched, then turned around, bent over, obviously distraught.
Josh continued to observe the scene with quiet horror. Who was this woman? Was she the child’s mother? Or maybe just a servant forced to do this job. He had no idea. He looked at the woman as she walked out hesitantly with the bowl of blood in her shaking hands, and thought he heard her say, “O no, not another one of these poor little mites. These people are savages, savages; subhuman. May they rot in hell forever.” Having said this, she turned right away and shuffled hurriedly to the exit through the crack on the right, before anyone who mattered could hear her; not that she seemed to care much what would happen to her. Finally, once again, there was silence in the hall.
The priest stood in front of the cross, shaking his hand dismissively in the direction of the woman. He then bent down and took a wet cloth out of a small bowl on the side and began to clean the cross, along its length and width. When he was satisfied that it was clean, he dropped the cloth back into the bowl and turned around facing Josh, whom of course he could not see. He put both his hands together in front of his mouth, in the familiar prayer position and began to pray.
“Kala kola, kili kola, kiri kora KA” He pronounced these words harshly and powerfully asserting his strength. Then he continued in normal speech.
“Give us power, O mighty dragon, who lives in the heavens and rules the world. Jesus Christ will never reign so long as we worship you. Take these sacrifices and turn them to strength, power and might that will give us victory. We will destroy the whole world and its fancy goodness, till not a shred of light remains. And darkness will rule, forever a trend. Come, Come, O mighty beast! We worship you, we love your power, defeat the angels and all of Christ’s prowess. Let us wreak havoc, destroy and shed blood, till the whole world bends the knee to our might!”
Josh was fascinated by the power and ecstasy with which the priest spoke these words. He found himself drawn again to the power of the dark forces he knew before this journey. He remembered his stones and their magic with renewed excitement. He felt drawn to the power and the ecstasy with which he was already familiar. He was glued to the priest, his red hood, his red gown and his bright eyes blazing with energy. He seemed to have regained some of his strength, and his fear left him. May be he is amongst his own, may be this is where he is meant to be? He felt more relaxed and waited to see what would happen next.
And then, without a warning, he heard the shuffling of feet, and the wailing of a woman who entered the hall from the left. Behind her was a boy, his hands tied with a rope in front of him. The woman’s hands were tied behind her back with the same rope which proceeded from his hands. The boy was blind folded. Behind, and alongside the boy were four priests dressed in red gowns and a red hood, like the first priest. On the right hand of each gown was a print of an evil face, with malicious eyes, a nasty smile and pointed ears. The first priest who conducted the prayer had a black star at the end of his hood but these priests’ hoods were starless. The boy, aged about ten, resembled the woman. Josh assumed she was his mother. On her neck there was a huge gold cross, her hair was tangled and her face tear stained. The company proceeded into the hall, mother and son subdued and hopeless. The priests pushed the boy in front of the chief priest who came down the steps leading down from the cross. The boy seemed to offer no resistance. The priest stood and smiled and stretched his arms forward to receive the boy. The mother began to wail and the priest who seemed bemused at the noise she made, motioned to one of the other priests to deal with her. Very quickly and without much ado, one of the priests on the boy’s left hand side, took a syringe out of his pocket, approached the woman briskly and injected her arm with what must have been some kind of a tranquilizer, for she immediately became limp and silent. She collapsed to the floor, tugging the boy down with her. Another priest hurried over and cut the rope with a pair of clippers which he took out of his pocket, preventing the boy from collapsing alongside his mother. It was obvious that the boy was unaware of things around him. He winced a little when he heard his mother wail, but restrained himself from reacting, probably remembering what had happened last time he reacted. And now, all together, and very efficiently, the priests lifted the boy up and tied him to the cross. He was still silent.
They now stood all around the cross with the chief priest at the centre and began to chant a malevolent chant that filled Josh’s heart with terror. As their chanting reached great ecstasy, so the chief priest reached his hands into his pockets, taking two big nails from his left pocket and a hammer from the right. Very swiftly, he lifted his right hand up to the cross and began to nail in the boy’s hand, eliciting sharp screams from the boy’s lips even before the nail was quite through. The rest of the priests were ecstatic and began to dance and chant even more ferociously. Josh froze to the ground, sick and petrified. In a way, he was detached from what he was seeing, and still somewhat in the grip of the ecstatic power that just gripped him earlier. But, the boy’s screams brought him back to the reality of the evil he was witnessing. The pain and horror were so great that he decided to pray. In the corner of his vision, as if one of his eyes could see into the dark space from which he came, he could see the rider on his horse, faintly present. He was unable to pray effectively, for his body was limp and his will nullified. Squeamish and limp, helplessness engulfed him all round, weakening him nearly beyond retrieve. The boy on the cross was bleeding by now from both hands and his screams rose to high heaven. Josh thought he was going to die just from hearing the screams. The light in the hall was fiercely bright and even if he wanted to hide he couldn’t. He put both his hands over his ears and let his head fall forward to minimize the experience, but he knew that nothing would now protect him from this hell. He bent forward and waited for this vile experience to end.
Then he heard the familiar voice of his accompanying demon speak with a smooth obsequious voice, “Well, how would you like to join us then? This ceremony gains untold power to our congregations throughout the world, should you join us, you will partake in its power and be able to live here as a priest when you grow up.” Josh felt unable to answer this smooth and slimy voice, for he knew that if he opened his mouth he would scream the full measure of his disgust, and then he would spoil his chances of getting back home safe.
“No. no, no,” he said in his mind over and over again, shutting them tight, and trying to imagine the rider on the horse, or Rachel, or home.
He would give anything to be lifted out of this place and never set eyes on this temple again. But he was unable to summon his own departure. His dependence on the demon to lead him out again was absolute. He knew the demon would do everything in his power to hang onto him and convince him to continue within his camp. His persistent slimy voice rang in his ears again and again, “well, well, well, would you like to join us, share our power, share our power, share our power…..” The voice went on repeating itself, piercing Josh’s fragile brain and tormenting him. No matter how many times Josh said no in his mind, he could not stop this voice from repeating itself, and so he realised the trap that was set for him. He had to speak his answer out loud in order to be released, but if he spoke it out loud he would be discovered, seen by the priests and then there was no telling what his end would be.
The demon tricked him and trapped him and now his only option was to scream or go mad with the demon’s repeated voice in his head. His only real choice was to scream and hope for the best. Inside his heart he asked for help as he glimpsed the rider on the horse. The pressure in his head mounted as the demon’s words repeatedly demanded an answer. The bleeding boy on the cross and the frantic trance of the priests all together nearly drove him insane. He shut his eyes even harder, put his hands over his head and screamed with all his might,
“No, no, no! You slimy, stupid blighter! I shall not join you, not ever, not even if you decide to kill me.”
The demon’s voice stopped outright. Josh’s scream rose up to the hall’s ceiling like an aroma. It could even be seen as a little red cloud resting right in the middle of the dome- like ceiling. The priests who could now see josh far in the back of the hall, stopped in their tracks, mid ceremony, and conferred amongst themselves. Before they even had a chance to start towards Josh, a thick ray of light shone from above the ceiling reaching down to Josh, covering him and preventing the priests’ approach. Josh felt himself being lifted up, up, upwards into the heavens. The hall disappeared and with it the blazing light that shone harshly throughout Josh’s stay. He could see it receding behind him, becoming a tiny dot, its light still harsh but no longer affecting him. He was back in the place where he met with the demon eyes and the distant vision of the rider and his horse. He sat there in mid darkness overwhelmed with the consciousness of his narrow escape. He wondered what would happen next.