SAGA OF DARKNESS VISION OF LIGHT
Chapter Seventeen - Final Battle
by Dennis R. Cook
THE LORD hadn't fired the first shot, but if, in
human
history there was a shot fired that was heard
round
the world, then what, in the mind of man, could
the
lightning bolt that exploded from the hands of
Prometheus be called, but a shot heard throughout
the
heavens. One awesome burst of dunamis from the
hands
of a man under the anointing bypassed the
natural systems power that governed the operation of
the
hydraulics so necessary to lift the garage
hatchway, and literally ripped the doorway open,
throwing on the lights throughout the compound as well.
Steven and Ketchum sprinted ahead. I knew they
were
hoping to stop whatever hellish madness was
taking
place on Dr. Sheolman's altar. Ketchum had
his
gun drawn, and was following routine stalking
procedure, Steven right on his heels, the rest of us not
far
behind.
Ketchum stopped at every turn, placing his torso
flush
against each wall intersecting each doorway, two
hands
holding firm, the revolver arched high inches
from
his chin. Turning his torso, Ketchum took a
deep
breath, released it, then stepped into each
doorway, gun poised to drop any resistance. None
came.
Whoever or whatever had intercepted Sarah on the
highway had escaped. No one was at home.
Hell
central was vacant.
"They got my men, too," Ketchum lamented,
lowering his gun as the reality of our futile effort
paled
against the backdrop of the architectural
wonder
our antagonists had vacated.
"We have a real problem here," Old Blackgoat
yelled
from the far end of the sanctuary that
housed
the elevator. "I think the mountain is eating
up the
devil's house. Everything here is
disappearing."
"Blackgoat, look above your head. It's the
vortex," Steven cried, fearing for the old one's safety.
"Yes, I see it," the sage said. "That
explains much."
"What do ya’ mean," Ketchum demanded, "do you
mean
to tell me that there vortex is swallowing up
this
fortress?"
"I'd say that is exactly what he is telling
you,"
Steven said to the officer.
"Well, if that's the case then we ain't got much
time.
Sarah and all my men must have been sucked
into
that thing. If we don't get them out
immediately they'll be stuck in there forever.
Steven,
did
you get that faith stuff back from Sarah before
she
headed home?"
"Yes," Steven said, "but at the rate that vortex
is
devouring this place, we won’t have the time to
come
into the oneness of spirit required to get it
to
work."
"I guess we will just have to wing it." Ketchum
said.
"We may still win this thing yet. I say
we go
in after ‘em, but we all need to be
committed.....what do you think, Joseph, you've been
awfully quiet over there."
Indeed I had....."I'm sorry," I said,
"what
was that again.. never mind,...committed...?
Yes,
we all should be committed, committed to a mental
institution for allowing ourselves to be backed into
a
corner. If I hadn't seen the Spirit of the Lord
resting on Prometheus I would say we were beaten, but
now I
know the Lord wants us to fight to the end.
Yes,
I'm committed,..committed to God. Let's go!"
Ketchum had caught me napping, daydreaming,
whatever. I called it meditating. It had
occurred
to me
that the vortex was something more than a
portal
to a parallel dimension. After all, if the
thing
could suck matter into itself like a black
hole,
it's original purpose had not been, as I had
believed, an escape route for Dr. Sheolman, but
rather
Lucifer’s version of womb of creation.
I realized that Steven had been close to
the
truth. He believed that with enough pure oil of
the
lamb you could rule the world. It was a half
truth,
however. The pure oil of the lamb was indeed
a
powerful tool in the hand of anyone with strong
faith,
but in Dr. Sheolman's case, it's purpose had
been
to create an antitype womb of creation, a false
version of the realm of faith.
I'd thought it odd all along. A mountain
hideaway for wicked spirits to receive worship from
their
wicked entrepreneurs? Had there been long
lines
of eighteen wheelers loaded with the lavish
furnishings that inlaid the mountain fortress?
Where
were the dump trucks, the cranes? Surely the
building of such a structure would have caught the
notice
of some passerby, but no..., not a
word...Sheolman had used the blood he had drained
from
the hearts of the innocent to concoct the potion
necessary to create a portal to a new realm. It
was
his
gift to his unholy master, a clever move on his part.
He had
created the entire edifice by his own
will.
He brought the entire superstructure into
existence overnight. Now he was removing all
evidence the place ever existed the same way he had
created it, and he had us right where he wanted us.
At any
rate, Steven wasn't going to have to look further
for
the person and/or persons behind all that had
been
going on. Astarte and Sheolman were certainly
in
cahoots together, but it was now apparent to me
that
Dr. Sheolman was the man. He hadn't needed
great
wealth, a mentor, or benefactor, just occult
knowledge and dedication. The loss of hell central
wasn't
important to him at all. He could duplicate
his
creation anywhere on the face of the planet with
his
newfound bag of tricks.
I expected to be the first into the vortex
again,
but that wasn't to be the case. Old
Blackgoat, then Prometheus, Steven and Ketchum were
each
snatched from my view, as greater and greater
portions of the sanctuary were gobbled by the vortex.
I was
last...
This time there was no long accommodating
tunnel. We were instantaneously transported by the
vortex
to a very darkened arena. I wondered how near
we
were to Astarte's hacienda?
I was catching on. Dr. Sheolman was several
steps
ahead of us. Even our rendezvous earlier at the
hacienda was a taste of what was to come. Even
then,
hell
central had begun to disappear within the womb
of
creation, but no, it wasn't disappearing at all,
it was
reforming into something else, something even
more
remarkable than before. It was reforming and
becoming the arena we were now in, one that, as it
became
illuminated before our eyes, was more grand
than
the structure in the mountain in New Mexico.
We were in a mammoth indoor Romanesque coliseum,
reminiscent, in part, to the great coliseum of Rome,
just
many times more grand in splendor and craftsmanship.
Rows
of white marble pews encircled the arena,
arching high on etched balconies that sloped
gracefully to give perhaps ten thousand spectators an
excellent view of the carnage to follow. At our feet,
a pure crystal floor caught the sheer beauty of
it
all. Ablaze from the ever increasing light, it
was as
though we were standing on fire.
"I don't see Sarah or my men anywhere,"
Ketchum said, as we began to gather our wits
about
us, adjusting, as it were, to our newest of
predicaments.
Steven nudged me in the rib cage.
"What now," I asked.
"The thrones," Steven said, "the thrones are
materializing over there."
I heard the sound of a door opening high above
us.
Sheolman stepped out on a lone balcony set high
above
the rest.
"Well, if he ain't got himself a gol-dang luxury
box,"
Ketchum said, running his fingers through
his
hair, as if to declare his exasperation before
stating it. "Now I've seen everything."
I was about to say I sure hope cows don't fly,
but
Sheolman cut me short.
"Do you like my auditorium?" Dr. Sheolman
said,
glaring down at us.
One couldn’t deny his genius, but I, for one
of
many, couldn’t fathom paying the price he would
most
assuredly pay during all of eternity.
"This is my baby," Sheolman went on. "This is
my
crowning achievement. I designed it myself you
know.
There isn't anything like it anywhere else in
the
world. Even the marble of India, or the crystal
of
Nepal cannot rival the richness of quality I have
given
these marvelous pieces of stone. Not even
Nubian
black onyx can compare with the perfection of
the
quality of stone with which I've endowed these
thrones. Have you ever seen anything so glorious?
Oh,
that's right, I suppose you have..."
Dr. Sheolman abruptly changed his tone of voice.
"You
know why I've brought you here don't you?" Dr.
Sheolman questioned lasciviously, bending his torso
over
the balcony enough to give us full view of his
hatred. "You caused my master to grieve! You
defiled his temple," Dr. Sheolman said with
tears
welling up in his eyes. "Do you dullards
realize what the Lord Satan has had to sacrifice in
order
to have this grand opportunity to destroy your
souls? His grand fortress of pleasure! You
kerrsare
nothing more than ignorant fools, dullards,
tripe. You couldn't even avoid the simplest of our
traps. You kerrs think you have mastered travel
through the realm of the gods, and can escape us with
that
small pittance of faith you possess...and the
girl,
and the other agents,...do you expect to save
them
as well,...ha.,ha ha,"
Dr. Sheolman's maniacal laughter filled the
auditorium for some time. When he finished, he
left
the
balcony long enough to push a button. He had set
and
elevator in motion. We heard its tell-tale hum
behind
us and
turned to see who would appear. Doors opened
revealing Sarah and Ketchum's men.
All were pale and clammy, as though deprived
of
oxygen. It would be some time before they
would
recover enough to be of any real value when
we
made our stand. The elevator doors closed as
we
helped the last agent out of the shaft. With that,
we
knew our last natural avenue of escape had vanished.
Steven
pushed the buttons outside the elevator,
but it
was dead to our touch.
“Well, it was worth a try, anyway.” Ketchum said.
With that Dr. Sheolman resumed his tirade."This
grand coliseum to the glory of all evil will be
your
tomb," he said maniacally. "The true glorious ones
will
be here tonight and all the host of hell on
Earth. For us, this will be the greatest night of
rejoicing we have ever known. My master has waited
long
for permission to destroy such hated pests of
that
hated Christ of yours. The loss of my master's
pleasure palace and that careless coven beyond Mt.
Palomar are nothing to Satan compared to the delight
and
joy I shall have delivered to him with your
souls. You bastards! How can you hope to
keep the
Earth
from our reign. Our master has prepared all
power,
signs and wonders to unleash on this age, and your
God has left only fools to defend against us.
Ha ha,
ha ha ha ha ha ha ha......"
Dr. Sheolman threw his hands in the air as he
laughed us to scorn, leaving us then to dwell on what
he had
said. Within moments, he vanished from our
view
through the door to his balcony.
Even Old Blackgoat, though rejoined with his
granddaughter, seemed disheartened by Dr. Sheolman's
reckless tirade of blasphemy. We assumed there was
more
scathing rebuke to come. We weren't
disappointed. When the black-hearted reprobate
returned, he was escorted by the ethereal mystique of
Mother
Babylon. I couldn't fathom what Dr. Sheolman
and
Astarte's next venture might be.
"Listen, you fatted calves," Dr. Sheolman said.
"Do you recognize this woman?"
We stood silently.
"This is the embodiment of Astarte, witch
extraordinaire," Dr. Sheolman said. "I am sending
her
essence this very moment to make war with all
your
seed. She will draw your every blood
relative
to the
pit with her cunning wizardry."
"Behold," Dr. Sheolman said, raising his
arms
in power toward the ageless witch...Astarte
twirled her hand...A mammoth fireball began to form
round
about it which she hurled at us with unerring
deftness, causing us all to agonize from the seering
heat
which scorched our skin.
Again Dr. Sheolman threw his hands into the air
and
laughed us to scorn. He was done for the time
being.
Steven sat down against the arena wall and fumbled
for
the bootblack can containing the lamb oil. For
some
time the wizened Peterian just sat staring at
the
container as though reaching for some conclusion
about
our predicament.
I approached him to see what was on his mind,
but
before I could speak he cut me off.
"Shh," Steven said, "hush, I'll tell you about it
later
if I get the chance. Ketchum has ears like a
dog.
I don’t know about the others, but I don’t want
anyone
getting upset more than they already are.”
I wasn’t upset by his comments, just perplexed.
I
turned aside to watch Old Blackgoat. He had
produced the paper on which he had earlier scribbled
some
Bible text, and was pacing back and forth
mumbling words under his breath I couldn't quite make
out.
Meanwhile, Ketchum checked each of his men to
make
sure no permanent damage had resulted from near
asphyxiation. Then he confronted Sarah. I
knew that
was
coming. The Texan wasn't used to being bested by
a
woman. I didn't think the fact Sarah had rescued
us
bothered the old boy as much as her flippant
disregard for his need for more answers.
Even I didn't know Sarah very well, but I
thought I knew her well enough to predict the outcome
of
Ketchum's current approach. The young woman
exuded
a not so quiet confidence, and Ketchum was
going
to have his work cut out for him if he intended
reprimand or inquisition. She seemed to be the
type
that
would prefer days on bread and water, thanflippant disclosures. When she said "you figure
things
out," she meant, "you figure things out."
I walked back over to where Steven was sitting. I
wondered if he was ready to explain himself whileKetchum was preoccupied with Sarah.
"You know," Steven said, twirling the bootblack can
on his
fingers, "this stuff isn't going to work this
time."
"How do you know?" I asked, feeling hope fade.
"This isn't my bootblack can…, see, my can had
a worn
spot on it right there. Oh, ya’, this is the
same
kind of can, but it's newer, and you know what,
bet
there is shoe polish in here."
Steven opened the can…."Yep’, that's shoe polish,"
he
said.
"You want to know what else," Steven said,
Looking me in the eye, "Sarah doesn't have the lamb oil
either,...ya’, she switched cans.. but take a look at
those
skin-tight jeans she has on...there is no can
there. They either took the lamb oil from her when
they
snatched her off the highway, or she hid it
back
at the church or in her car. Either way, it's
gone."
"So, what now?" I asked, puzzled by Steven's
seeming lack of concern.
Steven pointed at Old Blackgoat. "He has the
answer. I suppose it's time to quit playing and
start
praying. Our only hedge now is our faith in
God's
word. It is fortunate for us Old Blackgoat
took
time to write down the kind of warfare
scriptures we're going to need later this evening.
“Joseph, I need you to gather everyone around Old
Blackgoat. Let's give the devil a fight,
characteristic
the
born again, spirit filled believers we are."
I guesstimated the time to be about 8:00 P.M.
when
the doors leading to the balconies opened and
people
started filing in. We had spent an entire day
awaiting our fate.
Not long after, lights were dimmed above us.
The
arena itself became a stage on which a most human
drama
was indeed about to be portrayed. The odds
said,
"lions 5, Christians, 0."
People chatted nonchalantly. It was just
another opening night to them, but we were their
play,
their opera. Only the curtain remained to be
drawn,
the orchestra to play it's opening strain.
There was a tap, tap, tap. It echoed throughout
the
auditorium. Someone was testing a P.A. system.
Spotlights suddenly flooded the throne area, rotating
nervously, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the
ignominious ones. The crowd quieted. I
couldn't
hear a
whisper.
Imperceptibly at first, and then louder, the
rumbling sound of pounding horses hooves began to
break
through the deafening silence. Then we saw him
riding
toward us, whited bones glowing from the
shrouded unholy glory accorded him by the blood
thirsty crowd, poised to explode through the veil of
the
netherworld into the tomb of our internment.
Death
raised his bejeweled sceptre to oohs and ahs,
then
reared his pale horse and made it dance on hind
feet
so all might see the gaping blackened sockets
holding the horses blood drenched eyes.
An explosion of blazing hellfire proclaimed the
arrival of the next night thief. Hell appeared,raising both knarled, pus-oozing arms to accolades of
primordial groanings and gruntings from the crowd.
With
one elongated scoop of a taloned hand, the once
imagined prison keeper caught Old Blackgoat and
raised
him above his slime covered fangs to roars of
approval from the crowd, then flung him back at us,
as
though a disdained morsel. He landed in our midst
and
sent us all sprawling. The crowd laughed
raucously,
but
landing in our midst had broken the fall, and we
were
all ok, including old Blackgoat.
Then, without warning, a great white steed
appeared atop a towering whirl wind. A fierce
looking warrior dressed in shimmering white was upon
the
beast, holding a great golden serpent in his hands.
His
eyes, black as coal, pierced to the core
of my
soul. The viper, unleashed by it's keeper,
slithered downward toward the sparkling burning
crystal beneath it. Satan withdrew to his throne.
Again the lights dimmed, drowning the pit in
darkness. An eerie glow enveloped the viper as it
raised
a grotesque reptilian head and glared our way.
I felt
my knees begin to buckle, but sobered.
Light began emanating from a great circle that
suddenly appeared in the crystal floor. Dr.
Sheolman
materialized and stood near the serpent. The
serpent
remained motionless, its hungry eyes maintaining
a
death glare upon us. Were we to be its meal?
Bathed in the spotlight, Dr. Sheolman began his
introductions. "Tonight, we have the great
pleasure
of
introducing to you a master of masters, the likes
of
whom you have not known before. Our gracious host
has
chosen this evening to reveal his mentor to you.
It is
a night of great joy for our masters. Never in
all
glory to Satan, Hell, and Death, have covens been
so
blessed as this night. Never again will covens
lack
power or prestige. As you shall see, this
night
all shall know the realm of evil has a king
even
the nameless other so called deities cannot
conquer. He shall never bow his knee to the
Christian God of the hopeless. This master and
monarch of all intrepid disdain is the life force of
every
child of pride. No one in this generation
shall
escape the subtle malevolence of his
temptations, and you who serve him shall wield all
the
power on Earth. I give you…, LEVIATHAN!!!"
Dr. Sheolman retreated to shadow of the golden
serpent, close enough even to climb on its back,
which
he did. I watched with amazement as the
serpent lifted from the fiery floor and took flight,
much
to the delight of the frenzied onlookers.Moments later the creature came to rest atop the high
balcony above all. Still spotlighted, Dr. Sheolman
made a
grandiose gesture with his hand, and the
serpent exploded in a great ball of fire which
brought a gasp from the crowd.
Again a great silence fell on the congregation
of
infamy. All turned their attention toward the
ever
growing, lighted circle in the arena's center.
The
floor itself began to arc higher and higher as
though
some invisible hydraulic arm was
inching the circle upward. Higher and higher the
cylindrical aberration lifted, revealing a titanic
light-cage enshrouded in the glow of lamb oil. As
more
of the cage came into view, a tinge of reddish
smoke
told me Leviathan was near. Then I saw...
First, blackened spires reminiscent of gothic
crowns
accompanied the bloody show of smoke
billowing up from the depths, then one head, then
another, then another, until seven heads, the likes
of
which I never hope to see again, filled the
restraining cylinder with the eternal beast of the
pit.
Armor plating tempered by the heat of the
smoldering coals of hellfire covered the beast's
trunk
and seven tyranisaurean heads. Teeth, each the
size
of a man, came to razor sharp points underneath
nostrils the size of prehistoric caves. Hypnotic
eyes
set deep in the creature's seven foreheads
dripped blood onto seven scissored tongues that
swirled continuously. One spiked horn adorned six
of
of the
seven heads, each horn the shade of night.
Only
the middle head, the seventh, had three horns.
Each
horn reached its full height at the pinnacle of
the
auditorium.
As the beast admired its prey, some of the devil's
weaker
onlookers screamed. Spirits of fear began
searching
out
the congregation for additional fodder. The blood
dripping eyes of the behemoth shot living chains of
iron
at each cry, anchoring and silencing each
weakling in their spot. One crazed young woman
above
us
made a fierce effort to dodge her pursuer,
rattling locked doors in an attempt to flee the
horrific apparition, but to no avail, as the living
chain
searched her out, crushed portions of her frail
body,
and dropped her without mercy at our feet.
Prometheus pulled the disoriented woman to his
bosom
and prayed a desperate prayer for her soul.
Steven, Old Blackgoat and I, after kneeling to search
out
the condition of the woman, sprang to our feet,
sensing as one that the hour of our destiny was at
hand.
Prometheus soon joined us, laying the bruised,
but
alive body of the young initiate at the base of
the
Romanesque wall at our back. Two other resistors
soon
fell limp at our feet. My, what tasty morsels we
were
about to make for the vainglorious heads.As the
protecting wall of luminescence began to fade,
and
the horror was soon to be unleashed upon us, Steven
marched forward....
The rest of us realized what we must do…and took to
Ourselves the whole armor of God.
"Leviathan," Steven roared, with such power, that
all
quieted in the auditorium. "It is written, in the
name
of the Lord Jesus Christ, I will break the pride
of
your power, and you shall be taken in your pride!"
I wasn't sure what effect scripture against
pride
would have on the beast. Old Blackgoat had
selected the scriptures for battle with the unholy
trinity. I could tell the audience was stunned by
Steven's boldness, but I couldn't see the unholy trio
for
the horror before us.
Again Steven confronted the beast, repeating and
repeating the Almighty's Words. Seven times Steven
hurled
the Word missiles until I began to detect
momentary perplexity come across the creature of
perdition's eyes. Then, as though a dagger had
pierced to the core of the dragon's skulls, the
behemoth's eyes rolled as if smitten, and the head's
writhed with pain as though hammered from within.
Old Blackgoat joined the assault. "Oh Leviathan,"
Blackgoat thundered under the anointing of the Holy
Ghost.
"Pride goeth before destruction, and you shall
be
taken in your pride!"
Again the beast's eyes rolled, primordial heads
writhing in pain, darting side-to-side as if dodging
the
discomfort of the onslaught of "THE WORD OF GOD."
Incensed, Leviathan began a rampage.
One
inflamed head siezed a man from the balcony on
our
left and dashed him to pieces on the unyielding
crystal below. Another gaping skull arched high
toward
Dr. Sheolman, thrusting an improbable spear
through the ceiling above. Dr. Sheolman scampered
to
escape, but it was too late, caught in the gnashing
razor
sharp teeth of the behemoth, he screamed for
mercy. Seeming to understand for a moment, the
monster tossed Dr. Sheolman into the air, but the
game
was for the beast's pleasure, not Dr.
Sheolman's. Clinging to the tip of the highest
horn,
Dr.
Sheolman again laughed us to scorn, but what
followed would have fouled the stomach of the
strongest man. The denizen of our worst nightmare
lowered its bloodied horn beneath the swirling
eyes
of the other flailing fangs. Dr. Sheolman's
eyes
pleaded his cause toward us, but we stood
helplessly by as six ravenous sets of tongues and
teeth
feasted on his fated frame, even tearing at one
another for the right to lick Dr. Sheolman's blood
from
the seventh head's taloned, middle horn.
A chaos of screams reigned supreme all around us
as the
beast swung ten tons of burning hell across a
balcony forcing shrieking onlookers to plummet all
around
us. The time for verbal warfare had passed.
Nothing could be heard over the nightmare of screams
of the
pitiful minions who flailed arms and legs in
an
attempt to escape the slashing jaws of the beast.
But all was not lost. Prometheus vaulted upon the
back
of the dragon as it turned toward Satan and his
cohorts, then leaped to catch hold of the greatest of
the
denizon's horned spires.
Never in the history of humanity has human sinew
bowed
with such might to tear a mortal enemy. I
didn't
think Prometheus would be able to succeed in
his
mission. Two herculean jaws attacked him, but
collided with each other, locking their own horns.
A
primordial shriek filled the arena as Prometheus
gained
his weapon by tearing loose a spiked horn,
leaving a gaping hole in the monster's head.Prometheus then plummeted the full length of the
beast's own horn-turned-spear deep into it's head,
leaping to safety only as six other sets of fangs
came
crashing down on the spot he had vacated.
Choking and sputtering, the monster reeled from the
taste
of its own blood, writhing and thrashing until
even
the trio of terror were forced to disappear.
And
not any too soon, for the falling beast toppled
their
fabled thrones and crushed them to powder. I
suspected they would return to fight another day.
As I continued to gaze at the mindless
spectacle, I heard a distant voice urging me, "Come
on,
Joseph, hurry, we have to get out of here while we
can."
I turned to see Prometheus standing beneath a
shattered balcony. The wall had been crushed just
enough
to allow Prometheus to lift us all to safety.
I
could see that Old Blackgoat, Sarah, and all the
rest
were already making their way to safety through
the
shattered doors above. I was the last alive in
the
pit besides Prometheus.
It only took Prometheus seconds to lift me
up,
then he was left alone. I knew there was no
hope
for the titan. The monster righted itself as I,
too,
made my way to safety through the doors above. I
turned
to see Prometheus face the matchless creature.
Although weakened, it was still six heads
against one. Tears flooded my eyes. I
couldn't bear
to
watch any more. As I turned away the startling
sound
of buckling metal brought me up short. Steven and
Old
Blackgoat ran past me. "He's climbing the
elevator shaft," Steven bellowed, grabbing my tattered
shirt
sleeve and dragging me toward the upper
elevator doors. Sure enough, the crumbling edifice had
made a
way for him to escape.
"Stand back," Old Blackgoat ordered!Seconds passed before two titan feet exploded the
elevator doors outward, yards into the air."Hurry!" Old Blackgoat ordered Prometheus. "We must
all
join hands and pray.”
Instantly one in mind and spirit, the Spirit
heard
our prayer of agreement, and soon caught
us
away.