SAGA OF DARKNESS VISION OF LIGHT
Chapter Nine - Sleuths of the Spirit
by Dennis R. Cook
After a short night's sleep we
arose at 4:30 A.M. and planned the day's activities. As
usual we would spend the morning tending the flock.
After lunch we decided to have Prometheus
demonstrate how best to use the pure substance of faith. We
wanted to be prepared should we be caught by the enemy
without Prometheus. About 4:00 P.M. we intended to load
up Steven's old 4X4 and drive to Albuquerque where we
would catch our flight to Los Angeles.
Prometheus' presence made the
morning walk with the sheep more interesting. Hearing
a voice projected by an invisible source took some
getting used to. Prometheus would interject things
like, "the sheep desire to eat of the shrubs under yon
Old Blackgoat seemed to enjoy
the game. The moment Prometheus would give a direction he
would turn the sheep that way, and, I swear, I could
darn near see the sheep smile.
One thing bothered me about the
sheep and Old Blackgoat, though. And that was, it
didn't look like we would be able to tend the sheep
beneath what Ol' Blackgoat called, the blue sky which clothes
the high green mountain range above the passageway
of the serpent. I knew Old Blackgoat had his heart
set on it, but after our encounter with Death,
I, for the life of me, couldn't figure out who
would be fooled by our little ruse.
After lunch Prometheus took his
seat on the floor against the refrigerator, while
Steven, Old Blackgoat, and I, sat at the kitchen table.
Steven brought out the substance
of faith from his hip pocket and removed the lid, then
set the canister in the center of the table.
A knock at the door interrupted
our proceedings, however.
"That will be my granddaughter
Sarah," Old Blackgoat beamed. "She was supposed
to have business down in Zuni this morning. I thought
she might stop here on her way home. This is good
timing. I want her to see how great the substance of
faith can be."
"What about Prometheus?" Steven
whispered before Old Blackgoat could reach the door.
"Don't worry," Old Blackgoat
said, "she may not understand at first, but she
will catch on. She has always been a good
"Granddaughter!" Old Blackgoat
said, as he opened the front door of his modest
abode. "Come in and join our powwow. You know Steven
and Joseph. And I have someone else I would like for
you to meet."
As Sarah entered the tight
confines of the kitchen the same alluring smell of
Georgio reminded me of our first meeting. Her demeanor
hadn't changed either. She was all business.
Nothing seemed to ruffle her feathers, not even the
sight of Prometheus sprawled half way across the kitchen
floor. She didn't even blink, and that aroused my
curiosity. Although she projected an impenetrable aura of
abject stoicism, something told me that was a front.
I vowed to find out more about her.
"Oh, Steven!" Sarah said,
reaching for Steven's open bootblack can on the kitchen
table, "this is the pure faith you were telling me
about, isn't it? May I have just a little?" Sarah
asked, becoming instantly more likeable and personable.
"Sure," Steven said. "But do
you have something to keep it in?"
Sarah produced a small pill box
from her purse and held it up for Steven's inspection. "Will
this do?" she said.
"Excellent choice," Steven
"Ad nauseam, ad nauseam," I said
to myself. "This girl can wrap Steven around her
"Perhaps," a voice answered in
I looked over at Prometheus. He
I determined at that point, to
guard my thoughts more carefully.
Back to the pure oil of the
lamb. I was still quite in awe, dumbfounded, and
somewhat amazed at the radiant glow the prize emitted.
Could I really move a mountain with a smidgeon of
the stuff? I was about to discover.
Prometheus directed us to gaze
into the glowing substance, and meditate upon it until
we felt confident a shield of protection was forming
around us that was rock solid, impenetrable. He
directed us to picture the shield and desire it with
our whole heart. He admonished that we should
agree that such a shield was present, and then aloud,
to say it was so.
"Are you now protected from the
greatest of disasters that could come upon you?"
We all agreed that we were, and
said so, still meditating as one on the substance of
I, for one, really expected to
see something form over us. Instantly I had a vision.
The pure substance of faith twinkled, as though emitting
tiny balls of light into the area directly above us. And
I saw a shield form!
Prometheus then leaped from his
seated position with the speed of a Cheetah and
raised his right arm above Steven's head. I thought
he was testing us to see if we would flinch. I was
wrong on that one!
The sound of Prometheus's fist
striking our shield of faith was deafening. The
sound snapped my eyes shut and jarred the table with
such force my entire physical body began
vibrating. By the time I could focus my eyes again, Old
Blackgoat, who had wisely moved away from the table when
Prometheus raised his arm, had returned, and was
running his hand along an unseen surface, not ten
inches above my head.
"Praise God," Steven said,
tilting his head backward to look up, while raising
his arm to feel the impenetrable shield pure faith
had formed over us.
"There is one more trial I would
like to see you pass," Prometheus said with a
"And what is that?" I asked,
alarmed, still trying to get my ears to pop open by
pressing hand to ear and ripping it away.
Again Prometheus directed us to
follow the steps he had taught us moments earlier.
This time, however, we were to envision all five of us
sitting outside on straw next to the church, and, of
course, to say so.
We all focused our eyes on the
substance of faith, and believed with all our hearts. But
after sitting there at the table in dead silence for two
or three minutes without anything happening, I looked
over at Steven.
"Now?" Steven asked.
"Now," I said, with a touch of
disgust in my voice.
"Now!" We all yelled, adding the
full force of our collective mind and will to the task.
"We are sitting outside the church on straw!"
In an instant of time I felt
everyone's mind merge into agreement with my own. In my
mind's eye I observed a small explosion at their touch, as
though energy to complete our journey had been
released. And the next thing I knew, we were all sitting
beside the church on a mound of straw.
"Now, if only we could spin this
straw into gold," Old Blackgoat said.
"You all will be worthy
opponents of Lucifer," Prometheus promised.
We brushed the straw from our
"Just remember this," Prometheus
said, "your heartfelt belief, your vision, your
agreement, and your words must be one. When they are,
this faith will accomplish whatever you desire. Use
it wisely. But do not be afraid to use it up, for
the little that is in this small container is more than
enough to last you all a lifetime."
"Oh, I see," Steven said.
"If only a grain of mustard seed can move a
"Exactly," Prometheus said.
We spent the rest of the
afternoon cleaning up and packing our gear. Most of what
we had brought wasn't suitable to take along to
L.A., like our sleeping bags and outdoor clothing.
We decided to stow those items in Steven's
Of the rest, we each selected
items that were fashionable, but not too flashy, just
enough to fill one medium sized suitcase along with
essentials like our shaving kits.
We drove south to Gallup and
turned on I-40.
The drive to Albuquerque was
pleasant. Although the day was a tad cool, with more
wind than I cared for, the high sky and warming rays of
sunlight glistening atop snowy mountain peaks had given
me a feeling of renewal.
Steven seemed to be lost for the
moment in his driving, but I knew his silence spoke
volumes. We all had a lot on our minds.., too much!
After all, who could relate to our experiences? A
Vietnam war vet maybe...
Prometheus marveled at
gargantuan eighteen wheelers that screamed by us at
frightening speeds. I suspected he was concentrating his
uncanny mind-reading ability on unsuspecting
passersby in order to increase his knowledge about
modern mechanistic wizardry. He had to have a lot of
questions after being imprisoned three thousand
years. In a way, I suspected, he was having fun.
Meanwhile, the proverbial New
Mexico crow, ever present companion on bleak
stretches of I-40, appeared alongside us in various
sizes hunting for its daily diet of putrescence.
The Albuquerque airport was
hectic with Friday evening traffic, and finding a
parking spot took some doing, but we managed with time
We still had two hours until our
flight was to depart, but rather than wait in the
cramped conditions of Steven's 4X4, I suggested we check
our overnight cases through, then grab a magazine
and cup of coffee.
We cautioned Prometheus one last
time, reminding him not to appear in the airport
area, and he reminded us not to worry about Dr. Sheolman,
that he would be close by at all times.
We grabbed our bags. Steven
finished locking up, and we were off.
After checking in, Steven and I
each purchased some magazines and knickknacks, then sat
down at a booth in a coffee and sandwich shop close
to our boarding gate. From time to time while
browsing through his periodical, Steven would give
fleeting glances at passersby. I knew he was searching
for Dr. Sheolman, but I didn't let on. For some reason
I knew he would show.
I wondered what Old Blackgoat
and his granddaughter were up to. Sarah had not indicated
to us how long she planned to visit. Her plans weren't
any of my business, but I assumed she would stay and have
dinner with her granddad. Had I given it some
thought, I would have asked her to stay with the old sage in our
A voice sounded over the airport
public address system announcing that we could board
our flight. We finished our coffee and paid our tab,
checked our things through security, passed by
the waiting area, submitted our boarding passes for
inspection, and strolled on down the boarding ramp.
A polite stewardess greeted us with a warm smile,
surveyed our tickets, and directed us to our seats.
I took the window just behind
the wing on the right side of the plane. Steven took
the aisle seat. He hoped to get a good look at Dr.
Sheolman as he boarded.
Steven bristled as a Navajo man
of medium build with cold, brooding eyes appeared through
the archway that separated us from first class.
He took a seat in the front row on the far side of
"Bingo!" Steven said. "Our
pigeon has landed."
"Indeed he has," I said with
"Time to get this show on the
road," Steven said, unable to quell his excitement, eager
to get on with the business of sleuthing.
Flight attendants assumed their
stations to explain safety and emergency
procedures. I loved the pantomime demonstration that
accompanied the voice, but hated the idea of ever having to
apply the techniques in a real crisis
situation. It reminded me of the Marine Corps Paris Island
joke. You know, if a coral snake or water moccasin
bites you, what do you do? Bend over, grab your
ankles, and kiss your derriere goodbye.
I was a tad nervous, although
not from our impending departure. I have always enjoyed
flying, especially those rare moments underneath silvery
moonlit skies, when the moon's rays bounce off
fluffy white cloud tops. Our flight had that potential. I
crossed my fingers.
No, I wasn't nervous from a fear
of flying. The feeling was more like that of a hound
dog anticipating a coon hunt. I hoped our adversary
wouldn't prove too wily, though. I was looking
forward to treeing his be-deviled hide out on a limb for
real. I eyed Steven. His countenance told me he was still
Then there was Prometheus. Was
he on guard as we? Or was he caught up in some other
moment? It didn't take me long to get an answer.
Words popped into my head. "I
expect this flight to be a true wonder of wonders,"
Prometheus said. "But I can't help remembering the days
when riding with Father in His chariot, I would
observe sights like flaming fires of glory bursting free
from an exploding supernova, illuminating an entire
galaxy with it's splendor, subduing countless solar
systems in mere seconds."
"Really," I said, sitting up to
look in the direction the voice came from.
"That would be an incredible
sight. Care to elaborate a little? Just what is
"Ah, Heaven," Prometheus said.
"Where shall I begin? How shall I describe it for
you so you will understand? You have asked a very
difficult thing, Joseph. Heaven, hmm.., heaven is a quality.
It is the quality of life that exists when every
creature's motive is not only to do good, but to delight,
take great pleasure in doing love things for one another.
"It is the delight a wealthy
earthman might feel if, upon finding a husbandless woman
with three small children; destitute, downtrodden, and
homeless; he took her in, dressed her in royal
robes, gave her a great mansion stocked with every
imaginable provision, provided her with servants, schooled
her children, and never asked anything in return.
"Heaven is like each creature
having all the wealth of the Earth, all the time of the
Earth, and all the means of the Earth, with no end in
sight. The presence of Heaven has no end or beginning. It
has always been like that, and always will be like that.
In heaven, all things are always possible, all of the
Prometheus paused. "Shall I
"No, that will do for now," I
said. "But thank you very much for sharing. Perhaps
when this mess with Dr. Sheolman is over you can
"Very well, then," Prometheus
said, but added, "you must tell Earth people heaven is
filled with great joy and excitement. Not one
creature in heaven is ever bored!"
I didn't argue the point, or
pursue his exposition further. It seemed hardly the time
to delve deeply into Heaven's bounty when Hell was right
next door, that is to say, a few rows away. Rather, I
turned my attention back to my finance gazette. I didn't
locate any articles, however, that offered hope
for Detroit, or piqued my interest, so I chucked it for a
geography periodical someone had left on the back of the
seat in front of me.
Thumbing through I happened on a
pictorial spread of modern Iran. It seemed
their unscrupulous anti-christ want-a-be leader had
envisioned designs of restoring the Tigris Euphrates valley into its
former Babylonian glory.
Bits and pieces of the Bible's
book of Revelation that gave a latter day account of
Babylon came floating back to me. I decided to open my
pocket Bible which I always carried for study and
As I read through the Old and
New Testament scriptures about Babylon, I recalled that the
birthplace of civilization was the Tigris and Euphrates valley,
i.e., Mesopotamia, the region where Prometheus roamed eons
ago. Things seemed to gel. I gained some understanding.
Babylon, it seems, was touted as the mother of harlots and
abominations of the Earth. She was the "great whore" of
Revelation chapter seventeen, verse five, that denizen
of the dark world unknown to us, that rode the dragon
with 7 heads and ten horns to power near the end of
time. Perhaps she was Astarte herself way back then, that demi-goddess that seduced our titan friend.
"Ah, now I remember," I said to
myself. "This message was on one of Blackgoat's
teaching tapes. He was talking about ancient Babylon.
He said thatBabylon was credited with being that
part of the cradle of civilization which first
introduced witchcraft and idolatry into the
post-flood Mesopotamian era. That certainly seemed genuinely
plausible when one considered that we had
Prometheus and the lamb oil.
I remembered Blackgoat saying
that the witches of Babylon were widely feared, and
people of that day believed demons could only be kept at
bay through human sacrifice and ritual. I laughed.
Some of my own people, Americans, were lost in the
same grave yard. When would the knowledge dawn on
civilization that dominion of the Earth belonged to
man, that not even Lucifer has our authority, unless,
and until, he is born as one of us.
Old Blackgoat had said as much,
said man had made him-self a dupe where Satan was
concerned, that always the exact opposite of what man believed about
the devil had been true. Man believed that keeping
the devil away required ritual sacrifice, when, in
fact, it had always been ritual sacrifice that had given
the devil legal entitlement to enter a man's life and
America has had its problems,
Blackgoat had said. Newspaper and magazine articles,
television talk shows, and numerous books since the early
seventies had detailed the hazards, pitfalls, and
perhaps even judgment coming on our dear country.
Perhaps the recent bizarre weather patterns were
Blackgoat was becoming weary of
pleading with so called Christians that Father
didn't exist solely to shower us with a
multitude of blessings. He, and only he, also had
the responsibility of disciplining his family and
chastening nations, especially those daring to insult him
by worshiping demons and sacrificing children to
But, Old Blackgoat had gone on
to say, our great nation still had time to avoid
greater chastening, especially if Christians stopped
stumbling, as it were, over the truth inherent in
scripture. What was required of us, Blackgoat had said, was to
believe the promises of the Bible, and take dominion over
pseudo governing forces by acting and doing just as
instructed. Furthermore, he said biblical history painted a grim
picture of what might be in store for us if we didn't.
Israel was used to judge nations after her release from
Egypt. The nations she overcame were nations steeped in
the occult. However, when Israel absorbed those
same practices through inter-marriage, the Lord
visited the same judgments upon them, though far
worse, scattering them abroad into the jaws of Babylon,
the mother of harlots and abominations of the
Was Astarte that mother? I
wondered? Prometheus had said it was she who had plagued
mankind with false prophets and deceptions since
Nimrod's day. To what degree were we under her spell?
Blackgoat's teachings helped me draw some
Iran thought of herself as the
great hopeof the middle east, a nation destined
to fulfill a calling. You know, ordain a new world order
founded on the back of a super ruler, who appears to stave off
chaos in the knick of time.
I shuddered to think what that
might mean to us if we didn't kick a few demons
in the butt with the Word of God, and slam some jail
doors shut on baby killers and murderers of
children....and do so in a hurry. Otherwise, America might
one day be the recipient of worse than Iran from the
hand of God. (Gosh, I was beginning to sound like
Blackgoat had completed the
analogy for me, and I remembered, of Judah, God said,
that it never came to His mind that they would sacrifice
their children on the high places. How awful for a nation
to allow such to go unchecked in its midst, the
shedding of innocent blood, that is, and I wondered, was
America going to wind up like Judah? Was America
going to wind up in the hands of Mother Babylon because
we kill babies?
"What do you think, Prometheus?"
I asked, wondering if the creature was tuned
in to my thoughts. He was.
"I most certainly will recognize
that witch Astarte if I see her," Prometheus said. "If
she is the grand design behind this Dr. Sheolman, then
it is now clear why he is in possession of the lamb
"What is the portent of that for
us?" I asked.
"She is capable of great
deception. She could very well be your Mother Babylon.
"She will infect every strata of
your society. All her schemes will vary from cast to
cast or scene to scene, and they will seem dissimilar, but
they will, in fact, have one basic plot at their root."
"Oh, I see," I said to
Prometheus, "then what Old Blackgoat has been teaching is true,
the Satanists are just the tip of the iceberg.
They are like a sign, a dark vision of Lucifer's real
intent. The other factions are buried more deeply
in our culture, most notably, the Humanists, Free
Masons, Tri-Lateralists, Masters of Wisdom,
or whatever name they are going by these days. They,
along with the New Agers, Hindus, and the like, all
have channeled writings that predict a coming time
when they will make the vaunted quantum leap into the god
Blackgoat saw things clearly.
He said that which they predict, and await, will come,
but via cataclysmic upheaval, and the end result,
however, will not fare as well for the inhabitants of planet
earth, as Fascism for Germany. He foreshadowed the goal of
I shuddered to think of
Blackgoat's prophetic words. Taken in total they painted a
grim picture indeed, and what was worse, I
understood them. God judges nations and peoples that allow
Mother Babylon to sink her poisonous talons deep
into their culture. It just takes him a long time to make
his statement. He works from microcosm, the Tower of
Babel, to macrocosm, Mother Babylon in our day.
His statement has taken some five thousand years to
evolve. That is some statement using
analogical data, perhaps one that deserves the
kind of careful consideration given to theplan
before its implementation. "They are going to do it," I heard Old Blackgoat
say, "they are going to enslave humanity, and they
don't realize how angry The Lord can become when
world leaders invite Satan to rule them."
The seat belt lights came on and
the plane slowed to approach speed. Then came the
familiar greeting and Captain's advisory. I noticed I
hadn't bothered to unfasten my belt.
Steven apparently warned the
stewardess away when she offered us nuts and soda. I
hadn't missed the sundries but my stomach had. I was
famished. I turned my attention back to
Prometheus hoping to forget my hunger.
"Old Blackgoat is a very
interesting herald," Prometheus said. Might he not desire
to tell this story to everyone?"
"Perhaps he will," I said,
"perhaps he will." "Listen," I said to Prometheus, "I
want to remind you to follow Dr. Sheolman until he
settles in somewhere, then report back to Steven and me.
Be sure not to get so close to him that the demons
inhabiting his body discern your presence. Steven and I
will be staying at the Westchester Inn. I doubt you'll
have any trouble finding us."
"As you say, Joseph," Prometheus
said, sounding like a good soldier.
The wheels of our plane scorched
the runway. Screeching tires and the mighty whine
of the engines reversing themselves to slow our
speed soon brought us to the appropriate taxi speed.
Within minutes we were up, heading for the exit ramp.
As we crept along behind other passengers toward
the exit, Steven gave me the oddest look.
"What in the world were you
thinking about during the flight?" He asked.
"Well, you know," I said, "I had
a veryenlightening conservation with
"Oh?" Steven said, "I'd like to
"Later," I said, "I have to get
something in my stomach before I discuss that
"That deep, uh," Steven said.
"You got it," I sighed.
After collecting our baggage and
a satisfying dinner we took a cab to our hotel
destination, the Westchester, and settled in, choosing
to wait until morning to rent a car.
We were both exhausted after our
brush with Death at hell central. 4:30 A.M. had
come all too soon. Then, of course we had spent a
long morning tending sheep, which had drained our
resources even more. Learning to use faith had all
but depleted our reserves, and the drive to
Albuquerque was enough to finish us off.
Fortunately, the tasty meal at the airport had revived us
I planned on sleeping until noon
if I could get away with it...ha! I doubted Dr. Sheolman would be involved in much devilry until the
evening. At any rate, I wasn't going to chase him
all over Los Angeles until my strength returned.
Besides, Prometheus could pick up Dr.
Sheolman's thought trail and find him anywhere, anytime, I
presumed. It seemed too easy.
Steven felt as I. Indeed, he
felt worse. The bumps and bruises he incurred flying across
the unholy trio's sanctuary were hurting him
fiercely, and I thought it inevitable, after seeing
him down a few aspirins, that he would fall asleep
before Prometheus returned.
Our room was large and spacious
with thick, deep-piled, orchid-colored carpet, with
two king beds. A business accounting area was equipped
with a computer. The phone had a fax. The furniture
was exquisite. There were other amenities as well.
Get the picture?
It wasn't going to be easy
returning to the New Mexico outback.
I had insisted on the best
accommodations available, having been vacation-less
for several years while climbing the corporate ladder
at Mammoto. Steven hadn't argued. I was paying.
Steven surprised me. I had
expected him to be dozing, but the spark of curiosity I
had aroused in him as we left the plane hadn't
quite fizzled out. He continued to badger me about my
conversation with Prometheus, until wearily, I gave in,
doing my best to explain how Prometheus had helped
sharpen myperspective on the nature of
"Astarte?" Steven said.
"You know," I replied, "that
demi-goddess that seduced Prometheus."
"Sure," Steven said, "go on."
"Well," I said, "Prometheus,
along with some of the things Old Blackgoat has been
saying, brought the greater work of Astarte into focus.
She is Mother Babylon, you know," I predicted.
"From what Prometheus told me about her, I realized her
work is plainly visible in the social strata of our
society. Secular Humanism, New Ageism, and Hinduism,
to name a few, are so closely related, they must be
reminiscent of ancient Babylon; most importantly,
how deeply entwined they seem to be in our
educational system, government, scientific community,
media, business, and worst of all, our Christian
However, what alarmed me most
was recent talk by world political leaders about a
new worldwide monetary policy. Such would involve currency
other than the American dollar as a base, and signal the
decline of our status as a nation. Bottom line was, we
would no longer control the world's purse strings. The stage
would be set for world government and the rise of the
"We screwed up toward the
beginning of thiscentury," I told Steven. "We
Christians blew it. When the world said, "the church is powerless
to effect positively, the course of individual
lives, and the course of nations, let us invent
psychological clap-trap to take her place," the
resounding voice of Christianity from continent to
continent was "yes, amen, let us invent
psychological clap-trap to explain away spiritual things.
"Steven," I said, "we should
have been screaming whoa, Nellie, let the Word of God be
true and everyman a
Having finished my little
recitation, I figuredSteven would have numerous comments,
but guess what? The big baby had wimped out on me. He
was sawing logs.
I waited another hour for
Prometheus to turn up, before finally succumbing to
exhaustion myself. The bed was simply too comfortable. I fell
asleep in my clothes.
The next thing I heard was
Steven ranting and raving about something. It took me a while
to catch on to exactly what it was he was upset
about, but the phrase "lamb oil missing" saw me bolt out of
bed, if you will pardon the expression, like a
bat out of purgatory.
"It's gone," Steven said,
throwing his hands in the air. "The substance of faith
is gone. The can was right here on the dresser
with my wallet. The wallet is here, but the faith is
"Have you looked under
everything to see if perhaps it fell to the floor and
rolled under the bed or something?" I asked.
"Hey, I've looked everywhere,"
Steven said. "But the missing faith isn't our only
problem, where in the Sam-hill is Prometheus?"
"Do you think Prometheus might
have taken the can while we were asleep?" I asked.
"Not on your life," Steven
said. "I suspect, somehow, they caught him again, and
some kind of spirit slipped in here while we were
sleeping and ripped us off."
"Let's just say that they did,"
I said, "what, then?"
"I bet Prometheus has been
trying to contact us all night," Steven said, "but
couldn't get through to us because we were
sleeping. We need to focus. Let's focus all of our heart,
mind, soul, spirit and strength in agreement and
concentrate on Prometheus. Maybe he will contact us
"Let's also pray and ask the
Lord to show us all we need to know in order to
complete our mission here," I
"Done, let's get to it."
After praying for some time, and
gaining a oneness of mind and heart, images
began forming before our eyes. We assumed the
events we were seeing from the previous evening were
flowing to us from
Dr. Sheolman hadn't taken a room
Friday evening at all. He had rented a limousine
and driven south toward San Diego. He stopped at a
stately villa just outside of La Jolla to pick up a
female companion that he seemed to know very
I wondered if she was indeed
that demi-goddess Astarte. Was she the force behind
all this madness? The money was certainly there.
Owning a villa in southern California was a four or
five million dollar affair. Seemed to me Steven's
assumptions were right on target. Sheolman had a mentor of
hubris, and a wealthy one at that. Was she Mother
I watched as Dr. Sheolman and
companion proceeded east toward Mount Palomar before
turning northward on a farm road leading into a valley full
of peach trees. I perceived that somewhere in that
orchard served as a coven headquarters, and that
Prometheus and the can of faith were there.
More images followed. I found
myself inside a huge farm storage facility. Dr.
Sheolman and his friend from La Jolla were seated behind a
brazen altar much like the one on the reservation. I
perceived Dr. Sheolman and female companion constituted high
priest and priestess, respectively.
Soon, the two arose and brought
the meeting to order. That same moment I felt the
hair stand up on the back of my neck. There, on
the far side of the altar were three thrones of
ebony, and upon them sat the enemies of our souls, Satan,
Hell, and Death.
"Bring out the prisoner," Dr.
Two huge green serpentine
creatures with manlike torsos and webbed ears appeared
before Dr. Sheolman and bowed, then disappeared, then
reappeared in a flash holding the limp form of Prometheus.
His hands and and feet were bound with cords
gleaming with the substance of faith.
A great howl went up from the
crowd at the sight of our beloved friend. I grew
angry! The thought of multiplied thousands of faithful
human beings having given their lives over the centuries
to fill up the cup of Christ's sufferings boiled me
Dr. Sheolman raised his hands.
The crowd quieted.
The one the Lord rebuked rose
from his throne and walked with purpose toward
Prometheus. Raising hands toward the crowd, he cracked
them together. A towering burning cross appeared. The
crowd roared with approval.
Hell dismounted his throne, and
slithered across the floor with his tortured, bent
frame seething scum as he went. Like his predecessor, he
threw back his head as he stood with powerful
regality over Prometheus, then gave a shrill cacophonic laugh
that chilled my bones. Thrusting his hands into the
air, the arch fiend produced three red hot iron spikes.
The crowd again roared with approval as Hell delivered the
honor of execution into the hands of the only dark lord
Death descended to the floor
beneath his regal perch with purpose, no doubt the last
of its kind to be humiliated by Prometheus in
front of its peers. Its was the hand that I feared the
most upon the mighty titan.
His advance upon Prometheus was
that of a juggernaut, red eyes blazing with
rage. The crowd hushed. I sickened within.
"Take the pure oil of lamb's
blood and bathe the traitor from head to foot," Death
commanded the green skinned demons laboring with the limp
body of Prometheus.
"Dr. Sheolman," Death bellowed,
"Crucify him!, crucify him!,"
the crowd bellowed in unison.
Dr. Sheolman turned to the witch
at his side and commanded, "bring forth the spell
necessary to bind this dung to the cross of our
The witch moved rhythmically to
Dr. Sheolman's side holding a scroll which she clutched
with power. Standing over Prometheus, she
unrolled the parchment, left hand at its top, right hand at
Prometheus, it seemed, repentant
heart and all, was about to return to what purported
to be a nightmarish prison, even for a fallen
As the witch prepared to speak,
wrought iron chains were fastened about Prometheus
with which to hoist the titan upward onto the
flaming cross when the time came. I didn't think I
could take any more, but there was more.
Two tiny impish looking
creatures appeared in a small puff of smoke above the crowd
of onlookers and paraded around the gathering holding
the bootblack can of faith. The spectators roared
Once again Satan arose from his
throne. Standing, he began to command, "wake the
traitor from his dreams, that he may hear of the judgment that
is to be upon his head."
"There will be no need of that,"
a booming voice countered.
Prometheus was awake!
I could see that power had
returned to his sinews. And with a jerk of his mammoth arms,
the resilient titan tore his limbs free from the
serpent's grasp, and shattered chains and burning cross as
Faster than my eyes could
follow, Prometheus ripped the scroll from the witch,
snatched the can of faith, and disappeared into the
I popped up off my knees, lifted
my hands to heaven, and screamed, "YES! AMEN!"
"Did you see that, Steven? Did
you get all that?"
"You bet I did," Steven said.
"Prometheus got saved," I
yelled, throwing my fist in the air. "Glory to God Almighty.
The Holy Ghost let Prometheus get just enough taste of
the cross to under-stand its significance. I know
Prometheus received Jesus into his heart. I know it!
Jesus is his Lord!
"You're absolutely right,"
Steven said. And let's not forget that every knee
shall bow, and every tongue shall confess that Jesus
Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father."
"But how did Prometheus get
saved?" I asked.
"What justification can be
given for Prometheus getting saved? Now I'm
"Don't be," Steven
insisted. "The Bible says preach the gospel to every
creature. Prometheus is a creature, isn't he?"
"Well, err, ..." ended