Angel of the Apocalypse (9 page)

The
flies answered as one voice. “God is not here, little angel. He
left this forsaken land to us long ago. There is nothing left for you
to save. This land belongs to us now.”

Raphael
would not be swayed. “This is the land of God, and is under my
protection, dem-” the archangel's words were cut short as an
F-18 military jet shot him in the back with a Sidewinder missile.
Hundreds of military aircraft screamed through the air, shooting at
angels with brimstone bullets. Scores of angels fell from the sky,
screaming.

The
number of military aircraft was relatively small in comparison to the
host of Raphael's angelic forces. However, the angels simply couldn't
match the speed and maneuverability of the fighter aircraft. Angels
were falling from the skies by the thousands.

“
As
we have mentioned,” said the demonic flies, “We now
control this land. The entire might of the U.S. Armed forces are ours
to command. We are legion.”

Raphael
looked on in horror as he watched thousands of angels that were being
ripped apart by bullets and missiles. The situation was absolutely
unfathomable. The Lord of Flies had possessed the entire United
States military. Every military serviceman from missile silo
operators, fighter pilots, infantrymen, tank squadrons, and special
forces were demonically possessed. But for the angels, the worst of
it came from the anti-aircraft guns.

Great
streams of incandescent tracer fire lit up the skies, as thousands of
angels were cut down from anti-aircraft guns. Surface to air missiles
and flack cannons pounded the heavenly warriors to crimson dust. The
unlucky angels who did not die outright, but fell to earth due to
severed wings were soon met on the ground by demonically possessed
Army Rangers. The Rangers set up interlocking fields of fire, and
decimated all the remaining angels in bloody killing fields.

Raphael
cried in anguish. For some reason, he could not exorcise the demons
from their human hosts. The demon's hold over this land was too
great. And he couldn't bring himself to kill the servicemen, as they
were not in control of their actions. Raphael could only watch as
hundreds of thousands of his angels fell from the sky. The skies
literally rained with blood.

“
And
we shall reign with pestilence and murder,” mocked Beelzebub.
The flies merged into one, and once again the arch-demon was whole
again. He sneaked up on Raphael, who was doubled over in pain from
being shot in the back, grabbed the archangel's wings, and ripped
them from his body. Rapheal screamed in horror as he fell from the
sky.

Beelzebub
took the archangel's wings and stuck them on his back. The pestilence
from his rotted flesh caused all the feathers to fall from the wings.
The feathers slowly cascaded to the ground, as the demon's wings now
appeared to be that of a giant fly – large, translucent,
hateful things. He laughed and danced in the air on his new wings.

Raphael
fell to the ground with a loud, sickening thump. He lay dying as he
looked to the sky and whispered, “God, why have you forsaken
me?”

At
that moment, a demonically possessed Army Ranger walked up to the
archangel. The Ranger's face was silhouetted by blood-red skies.
Without hesitation, he pulled the switch on his M-16 to burst, and
shot the archangel in the face. The Ranger's eyes showed no emotion,
as he continued on his patrol, killing angels as they fell from the
sky.

It
didn't take long to clear the remaining angels from the area. The
battle for North America was lost. The Lord of Flies began singing a
haunting dirge in mockery of the once great nation. His mouth
sputtered puss and vomit with each line. “This land is your
land, This land is my land. From California, to the New York island.
From the red wood forest, to the Gulf Stream waters. This land was
made for you and
Me
."

*
* * * * * *

The
Antichrist quietly spoke, “All is lost, brother. Join me, and
you will live.”

Michael
stood his ground, and leveled his gaze on the father of lies. “Why
did you leave Heaven? Everyone loved you. We could have spent an
eternity praising God and basking in His glory. If not for your
actions, not a single human on Earth would have known hatred or
sorrow. Now look at this world, a twisted mockery of the paradise
that God created. Why?”

His
pale face cracked into a smile. Head canted to the side, the
Antichrist lifted his arms and danced in mockery of the archangel's
questions. “I am the greatest of His creations, equal to God
himself. Why did He create me? Why did He create anything?” The
Fallen One stopped dancing, and gazed into Michael's eyes. “He
did it because He could. Because He was bored and lonely. Because He
wanted to challenge Himself. God created this world like a child
creates sandcastles, who relishes in its destruction as the tide
comes in and destroys it. Each person on this planet holds the same
power of creation and destruction. Each person struggles with those
choices every day. God did not even give the angels the capacity to
judge between right and wrong, and that is why I left Heaven. Because
there was no choice, only constant singing and merriment. I despised
it all. What is life without choice? Slavery, that's what it is. And
that is why you must die.”

At
that moment, the Antichrist changed. Red scales began to appear on
his face. Leathery wings sprouted from his back. He began to grow to
enormous size, changing from a man into a gargantuan red dragon.
“What is life?” asked the Beast. “Is it not the
power to choose your own destiny? Am I not the beacon of free will?
All who praise God must die. The angels and Christians are simple
minded fools, who willingly submit to oppression and slavery. It ends
now!”

And
with that, the great Beast roared, and a gout of brimstone flame shot
from his mouth and incinerated all before it. The sand on the beach
burnt to glass, and the Mediterranean Sea boiled and hissed. The
Archangel tried to shield himself, but to no avail. His wings burnt,
his skin blackened and charred, Michael barely clung to life. He
slumped to the ground, smoke rising from his blistered skin.

The
Beast spoke, “Didn't the prophecies say that you would defeat
me? Revelations 12:7 I believe: 'Then war broke out in heaven.
Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and
his angels fought back. And the dragon lost the battle.'" The
Beast reared up his great horned head and laughed, "Yet another
prophecy failed, it seems."

The
beast stood triumphant. He paused to savor the moment of his victory,
then the dragon changed back into his human form - a business man in
a gray pinstriped suit. From his left hand appeared a violin, and in
his right hand appeared a bow. The Antichrist put the violin up to
his chin and played maniacally, and laughed as he watched the world
burn before him. He threw his head back and danced like only the
devil could. And when he was done, he discarded the violin, tossing
it to the blackened earth like a discarded toy.

He
walked over to the barely conscious archangel and put his right hand
around Michael's throat, and lifted the angel off his feet. The
Antichrist's left hand began to change - each finger becoming a
hypodermic needle filled with green liquid. A smirk creased his lips
as the Antichrist violently thrust the needles into Michael's face.

The
archangel screamed so loudly that the mountains shook. Green fluid
filled Michael's eyes and streamed out of his nose and mouth as his
body went limp. With the last of his strength, the archangel uttered
his final words. “You are wrong, fallen star. Man chooses to
fight his evil nature because of love. That is what you are rebelling
against. Like a petulant child, you pulled away from God's greatest
gift. How can you understand faith and hope, when you can't even
understand love.” With those final words, Michael's head
slumped forward, as the last of God's light left his body.

The
Antichrist smiled a Cheshire grin, holding the now dead body of
Michael close to him. He extended one of Michael's hands with his
own, and danced in a circle with his dead body as a mockery to God.
He then tossed the corpse of the archangel to the ground, like
another discarded toy. He then turned and raised his arms to the
heavens. “Am I not forsaken from Heaven? Am I not greater than
God? Am I not Lord of this world?” he screamed, tears of joy
streaming from his amber cat-eyes.

Rolling
thunder roared from darkened clouds. Lightning arced from the black
skies to the mountaintops. The sound of demonic laughter from all
corners of the world rang into the night. It was the darkest hour
that man had ever known.

At
that moment, the clouds parted as a single figure descended on a beam
of golden light. For the first time in two thousand years, God
returned to Earth.

“
You
look older than the last time I saw you,” the Antichrist
commented dryly.

God
did indeed look like an old man. Lines creased his face, as if from
thousands of years of sorrow. But despite his weathered countenance,
his eyes glowed with love and compassion, and his body was muscled
and strong. And when he spoke, it was with the authority of God. “You
were the greatest of my creations, and my greatest failure. I have
only myself to blame for the sorrow and destruction that you have
caused. And for that, I am the one who begs forgiveness from mankind.
I was a fool to think that I could create something as great as
myself, and have that creation love me unconditionally. But now it is
time to end this.” God paused, then sternly pointed his finger
at the Antichrist. “I challenge you, Father of Lies.”

“
You
challenge me?” mocked the Antichrist. “Why not just blink
me out of existence?” The Devil paused, for dramatic effect.
“Hmm, you can't, can you? No, you always play by the rules, and
that is why you will ultimately fail. How can good possibly triumph
over evil? This isn't Heaven, old man. On Earth, you're playing
against a stacked deck.” He walked up to God and pointed a
finger in his face. “You know the rules. The one who is
challenged gets to set the rules for the final confrontation. I
propose this – three duels. A game of chess, a boxing match,
and a dance-off. Best two out of three wins.”

“
This
isn't a game,” God replied. “This is for the fate of
mankind.”

“
Oh,
indeed it
is
a game. Life was nothing but a game from the very
start. A game that an old man created out of boredom and loneliness.
But the rules remain the same, regardless.”

God
shook his head slowly. “I knew you would make this difficult.
You have turned the final confrontation of Revelations into a
mockery. I should have known. But if that's the way it has to be,
then so be it.”

The
Devil laughed. With a gesture, a table with two chairs appeared. On
the table was a chessboard. “I presume, you'll take white?”
he mocked.

“
I'll
take black,” said God.

“
Ha!
You think you'll throw me off my game? Not a chance, old man. Pick
whichever side you wish.”

The
two deities sat at the table. God was sternly looking at the chess
pieces while the Antichrist slouched in his chair and whistled a
playful tune. He casually moved his white pawn to e4 then hit the
time clock. “Your turn, old man.”

God
looked intently at the white pawn, then moved his black pawn to c5.
“You're move.”

“
You
know what got me thinking? This whole trinity thing. You're a
singular entity that's separated into three parts - Father, Son, and
the Holy Ghost. It's just confusing, isn't it? Wouldn't it be easier
to understand, if you just called yourself God, and left it at that?
Instead, you seem like some kind of omnipotent schizophrenic.”
He casually moved a white pawn to c3.

It
was clear that the devil's commentary was troubling God. “Just
concentrate on the game, son.” Black pawn to d5.

Disregarding
God's advice, the Devil continued. “I mean, I suffer from the
same problem. I'm also a singular entity that's separated into three
parts – Satan, the Antichrist, and the False Prophet. I've also
been known as Lucifer, the father of lies, and the Beast, among other
things.” The Devil leaned back in his chair. “You know,
this whole Rapture/Tribulation thing is rather confusing, isn't it?
Seven trumpets this, golden censer that. How is anybody supposed to
make sense of it?” Pawn takes pawn at ed5.

“
What's
so difficult? You've got the Rapture. That's were one old man goes to
Heaven.” God shot the Devil a scathing glance. “Then
you've got the Tribulation. Seven angels blow their trumpets. Various
catastrophes occur. Then you've got your three woes. Then you get an
additional seven last plagues. Simple.” Black queen takes pawn
at d5.