The Third Heaven : Apocalypse of Kings

by Donovan Neal

  “This is Henel James. Reporting for the Jerusalem Post. As you can see the two witnesses stand in front of me. The black cloud of insects which has suddenly swept Jerusalem seems to be closing in on our position. As you know the two witnesses have maintained that all that we have experienced are judgments from God. The two have implored men everywhere to repent, and in these last days turn to God. As some of you know over a hundred thousand Jews have already fled Israel and are attempting to take shelter in the land of Petra. I am standing to report that these are good men. I know Leto controls most of the airwaves so I don’t know how long I can broadcast before they cut my signal off but I’ll stream as much as I can.”

  Henel James turned to the midday sky and watched the encroaching cloud of blackness moving towards them at high speed. A dark that ominously screamed as the sound of millions of demonic locusts flew through the air. Roars that were as the sound of a squadron of helicopter blades cutting through a war-torn sky. A sound that vibrated the sternum of one's chest and a sound that Henel knew was drawing menacingly closer.

  Over the past months the journalist had grown to trust and believe in the God that Enoch and Elijah preached about. He admitted internally that as he watched the clouds and sun disappear behind the darkness of the demonic cloud that approached; he knew the monsters that approached him replicated monsters within one’s flesh. He could not help but fear.

  The former atheist now offered a word or prayer. A prayer that the God of his fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob would in this moment rescue all those under the care of Enoch and Elijah. That He would protect them from the plague that caused men to seek death.

  The buzzing grew louder, and then the buzzing grew overwhelming. The cloud was black at first, until it was a cloud filled with incisors and screams and the faces of men, and Enoch and Elijah stood their ground and each raised their staffs and slammed them into the ground, and when they did light sprung up from the men. A light that reached up to meet the incoming wave of demonic teeth and stings of poison.

  A light that moved.

  A light that breathed.

  And Henel and all those that looked upon the grizzled two prophets ducked and covered themselves for the light spread over them as a shield.

  Suddenly the cloud was upon them. Millions of insects unlike any the world had ever seen. Insects that sought to bore themselves into the flesh of all they overtook. And when those in the care of Enoch and Elijah looked up, the teeth of the demonic locusts snapped at them in vain attempts to pierce through the shield of light. Stingers whipped from their arachnoid like tails and the sound of hissing permeated over all those that knelt under the protective shield of light that emanated from Enoch and Elijah.

  And the men were as two towers of light that stood against the darkness. As Moses once parted the Red Sea and his people walked safely through it. These men lifted staves and all things evil parted over and around them. Like a camp of bats the locusts flew past those who stood behind them unable to reach their quarry. For the light also emanated a heat that seared everything it touched. And as the cloud passed over them Henel now understood his forefathers fear as the angel of death took the firstborn of all Egypt. Understood those who sought shelter under the blood of a lamb on their doorposts. And now here in the 21st century: the sacred words of his forefathers leaped into his spirit and brought illumination. “… when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you, when I smite the land of Egypt.”

  Henel then stood to his feet. No longer afraid. No more fearful, for though the mountains be removed and the earth be destroyed. Two men of God stood by his side. Two men sent by the Creator to proclaim light in the midst of present darkness.

  ✽✽✽

  Marduk who stood as the guard over Leto released from his body a poison that floated in the air and settled as a fog over Leto unbeknownst to him. Invisible and odorless it crept into the chief of man’s skin. Soaking deep into the molecular structure that was the portion of the Nephilim that was human. The portion that contained the Withering.

  A ticking time bomb of toxin, that would in time erode the cells of the Nephilim’s body. A toxin that in time, Marduk knew would kill Lucifer’s son.

  Marduk smiled knowing that soon Leto Alexander. The Abomination would die.

  Marduk’s grin did not go unnoticed.

  “With what schemes do you plan that you smirk so Marduk?”

  Marduk scrunched his shoulders and cracked his neck and replied as he looked off into the distance as Lucifer contended with Abaddon.

  “I am wondering how your father will feel when he sees your corpse before me?”

  Leto looked upon him surprised. “You would battle me? Your king?”

  Marduk let out a gut bursting laugh. “No little thing of clay. I would never battle you. You are not worth the exertion. But Lucifer. He I would contend. You see, though he will slay me for your death. And trust me when I say that you will be dead soon. He is worthy of my respect: worthy of my fear. Although, he does not possess the fullness of glory that we once possessed in Heaven; even now he fights for his people. Or perhaps for himself, one can never be sure with Lucifer. But I know this: he is Elohim. Born of the Kiln. While you are naught but the imagination of my king’s mind. A trinket to be used and then discarded. No Nephilim…I will not battle you.”

  Leto was taken aback by the audaciousness of Marduk’s reply and he felt dizzy, weak and he stumbled.

  “Poison?” Leto stammered.

  “Poison.” Marduk affirmed.

  “How? Lucifer…my…father…will destroy you for this.” Leto fell to the ground lifted his hand to his throat and he started wheezing.

  Marduk nodded. “Indeed, I will most surely die of this I am sure. But you…well you will most surely be dead. Goodbye young dragon.” Marduk said mockingly.

  Leto began to cough up blood.

  Marduk looked down at the man men called the beast. A man the curled up helplessly before him in the fetal position and who cried out in pain.

  “Father!” Leto cried.

  A light then flashed and Marduk turned.

  He could see the greenish sword piercing his stomach but he was helpless to stop it. For Lucifer had been gifted with the power of light and with the speed of such; Marduk in the three seconds that he turned from looking at Leto to see Lucifer: saw the entirety of Lucifer’s ending battle with Abaddon and his own demise.

  Like the cartoon animators of old. Marduk watched as if each millisecond of his vision was a frame flipped over unto a light board.

  The turning of Lucifer’s head in response to the wail of his son.

  The enraged face of Lucifer in realization that Marduk had betrayed him.

  The immediate transmutation into light, and seemingly being ever-present around Abaddon as he sliced him with sword and fang

  The final snapping of the great angel’s neck

  The drawing of his sword and movement towards Marduk.

  And the rouge prince of House Harrada looked down as his hands gripped the sword that was gutted in his belly. His eyes wide in surprise but his face contorting in grimacing pain.

  All in the infinitesimal space of three seconds.

  “It…had to be done Lucifer. It cannot be…allowed to exist.”

  Slowly the innards of Marduk drained into the blade and Marduk found himself no more able to speak. To articulate nothing but screams of pain.

  Lucifer enraged looked upon the angel and turned the blade to intensify the agony of his rival his face glowered and he gritted his teeth as he seethed with hate.

  “Drink deep,” said Lucifer sneering. “Siphon this traitor’s soul into your veins. Sip the sweet nectar that is Marduk and bid him welcome to his new home.”

  Marduk’s features withered and shriveled. His skin became as a balloon deflated and all that remained of the great angel was a pool of blood as his body was absorbed into the Blade of Malice.

  Lucifer
then wiped the sword with his robes and sheathed his weapon. He knelt down to his son. His only begotten son who looked at him with tears in his eyes.

  “Is this dying father?”

  Lucifer looked upon his child. “Yes. But if I am right, you will be reborn more powerful than ever before. This is but the seed that now must be planted in the Earth to raise the life within. Be not afraid.” He answered.

  “What will happen to me now? What of our revenge against El?” Leto coughed up more blood and convulsed in Lucifer’s arms.

  Lucifer cradled his creation and spoke to him as he left the world of the living.

  “Marduk has released his toxins. Your flesh will rebuild itself soon for I have expected his betrayal. Death is nothing to fear for thee. It is, but the El assigned door to the realm of the spirit. You will soon find yourself in Hades. Find the gatekeeper: Charon the angel of Death.” Lucifer grabbed Leto’s face. Clutching his cheeks to deliver his final words.

  “Find Charon my son! Take what is thine! If you are MORE than human. If you are truly Nephilim. Then you will find your way back. Because you are Leto Alexander, son of Lucifer Draco. Once, long ago I too was fearful of Hell. But I escaped her. You too can defeat this celestial prison. Gain the God-stone and ascend to be more than what the dread God has planned for you. And you will rise more powerful than ever before! Fear not death, now bring me the Kilnstone. The last shard is phased near the Angel of Death. Find it and with it we both shall rise to the gates of Heaven itself!”

  Leto gurgled up blood and grabbed the sleeve of Lucifer’s robes as he struggled to hold unto life.

  “It hurts father…”

  Lucifer nodded in silent reply and the prince of darkness held back tears and his voice cracked in reply, “I know my son.”

  Leto’s eyes then grew wide, and he exhaled the remnants of the breath of life. And the beast who had both terrorized and fascinated the world… was dead.

  ✽✽✽

  Elizabeth ran into her house having run two miles from school.

  She sighed in relief not seeing her foster mother’s car in the driveway.

  Quickly she raced to the door and fumbled around with her keys. Opened the door sprinted into her house, slammed the door behind her, and she leaped over several stairs at a time bolting into her room.

  She stopped for just a minute to survey her situation.

  Run away.

  She frantically looked about wondering what she could take with her. Where she would go? And how long would she need to be gone?

  She sighed as she realized the gravity of her situation. I can never comeback.

  She fell back on her bed in a fatigued and defeated anxiety.

  I’ve nowhere to go, no money, no friends and no resources. I can’t ask Lauren to help me. I’d just get her in trouble if she’s not already,

  Elizabeth realized how quickly that she had screwed up. Ms. Davis probably had called the police on her. Chancellor Leto Alexander was the government, and she knew quickly the cops would be onto her. Of course they would stop at her home first. The place she just ran to.

  “Ugh how stupid!” She said aloud to herself.

  Ever since belief in God had been made illegal, she saw via the news law enforcement raid houses of worship, and track through social media anyone who professed belief in Allah, Yahweh or Christ. No one was exempt. Leto equally enforced his edict on all strands of religion that proclaimed a belief in a personal God or which undermined his own claim to divinity.

  President Consuela had reluctantly waived habeas corpus since the Taking and congress had given the President emergency powers to fight the alien threat and conspirators against humanity using all means possible.

  It was only a matter of time before they found her.

  She ran her fingers through her hair and slowed her breathing. She thought about the solution her mom took: suicide. Better to die by one's choice then to have the choice removed. She thought to herself.

  Still smarting from the internal wounds of trauma endured by Michael Gaines. She realized how alone she truly was. A student bullied for exploring the wonders of her sexuality with a trusted friend only to have her dignity robbed and her vulnerability plastered over social media. A punching bag to be used by her classmates. Slut they called her. Whore. A badge of shame meant to hurt her. To demean her.

  And now she stood looking at a switchblade and tethered between two opinions

  Elizabeth gazed upon the knife on her dresser.

  She looked at her wrists: looked where the scars of previous acts of self-cutting had left their marks.

  And as she ruminated, the floodgates of her mind opened; opened to the possibilities of death by her own hand. She picked up the knife and rolled up her sleeves she pressed the blade against her wrist. It was cold, hard and smooth.

  She paused as thoughts and a multitude of thoughts raced through her mind.

  Thoughts of regret, remorse, and feelings of shame and guilt overwhelmed her.

  She thought about her foster mom and what she would think. Thought about if she would go to Heaven or to Hell. If there were even such a place at all.

  But she knew Chancellor Leto believed in a Hell. He said it was real. A place where allegedly many of the planets loved ones were trapped and unable to be set free. He seemed to believe in Heaven. Or at least a being who he thought claimed to be God.

  But Elizabeth knew what she had seen and remembered when Carol was taken.

  “Carol I want to be where you are,” she said aloud to herself.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes to cut herself. To allow herself to enter a rest from the cruelty of schoolmates and the anguish of feeling filthy. She closed her eyes when she heard a still small voice in her mind’s ear. A voice that pleaded with her. A voice that cried out a simple but yet powerful truth that broke through the pain that seemed to overwhelm her. A voice that came from somewhere outside of her yet was in her mind. A voice that spoke three words that startled her and for the briefest of moments caused her to lift the blade from her wrist.

  Jesus loves you!

  ✽✽✽

  Vantress looked upon Elizabeth. Her mind’s eye now enlightened, illuminated to the truth that had escaped so many of Adam’s kind. That within the rooms of her own mind. The cellars of which she had entombed herself from the sight of others. A beam of God’s light had penetrated the vault of her own mind, and with it emblazoned the guilt and shame from which she walled herself within. A mental crypt decored with pictorial frames of rejection. A room of mental castigation furnished with lampshades of insignificance and tables hand-carved with intricate accusations she was to blame for her state.

  “If you had only dressed differently. If only you had not led him on. You let this happen. You deserve this. If you had only obeyed what your mother had said. And now… now you are becoming her.”

  And deep within the basement of her consciousness. The cellar of internal angst whose windows had been slowly boarded in the rooms of her mind, did she finally begin to understand.

  That even here: even in the recesses of despair, anguish and grief she was not alone.

  That even in this place: somehow… for some reason God: the creator of the universe loved her.

  And it was this love that shown upon the darkness of her soul. A deepening understanding of the truth that while she was yet a sinner; Christ died for her.

  The perception of the love of God was a violent act of awareness. Like when Yeshua overturned the money changers of the ancient temple so too did he overturn the lies of her mind. It was the revelation that Christ died for her as if she was the only one that mattered. This revelation that caused the assault and battery over condemnation, guilt, and shame. A lie that she was destined to walk in the path of her mother. That she too would be overtaken with mental illness: that the taking of her own life was the solution of her life’s problems.

  She scrapped and clawed within her subconscious that she would live and not die.

&nb
sp; That she would commit her life to the God that was love.

  And the nemesis that had plagued her for so long and had lauded his supremacy over three generations of her family was exposed in the light of God’s word.

  And Vantress saw she struggled and had not wholly surrendered and that hope still remained; his nostrils flared, and he spoke directivity to Eridu.

  “Get away from her Satan. Leave her in the name of the Lord of Hosts!”

  Eridu laughed, “Nay great one. This one is mine. As her father and her mother before her she is mine. She too shall bow in worship to despondency. For despite your prodding, behold the maid doth not yet call upon the name of the Lord.”

  Vantress turned to see that Elizabeth fought within herself. Struggling to sort through the voices that were own, God’s and the Devil’s. A chorus of discordant melodies that called for different actions. She placed her hands over her ears and shook her head as if to focus.

  Elizabeth wrestled in her own mind. Battling the powers of shame, guilt and condemnation over her past. Vying to decide to leave the prison of her own mind, to confess and share the truth of what she had done.

  Vantress drew his sword, and the cadmium beam glinted as the sound of its retrieval; marked his intentions to fend for the damsel.

  Eridu drew his face back in surprise.

  “You would fight me? I have laid lawful claim to this house. Her name is associated with my deeds. Nevertheless, if you wish to surrender your life on behalf of this one. Then so be it. I will add your stone to those who have come before you. For you are not the first to stand for this family but you shall be the last. For this is the last day, and the time of my master is nigh.”

  Eridu then drew his sword, and its blade gleamed blood red.

  Vantress paused for it dripped with the maidens own blood. Blood wasted in her self-cutting. Blood that represented the pain to escape the molestation she had endured so many years before, the years of sexual abuse suffered at the hands of men who saw her naught but a thing to be used for their pleasure. A trophy Eridu now held to use against Vantress. Blood Eridu licked as a succulent libation from the blade's edge.