The Influence (Supernatural Thriller)

by Matthew John Slick

  Paraptome let the mangled carcass fall to ground before it continued its lumbering movement forward.

  Once deep into The Cavern, it stopped and looked around slowly. It took a deep breath and exhaled. A river of cold fell downward, distorting the light that passed through it. Then it took another breath, this time larger than the first, bent down slightly, and began a drawn-out howl as it stood up straighter and straighter until finally, a deafening roar filled the rocky cave.

  Then Paraptome stopped. The remnants of the scream echoed and took half a minute to give way to an eerie stillness.

  It stepped forward a few feet, each footstep thudding under the weight of its mass. It stopped and looked around then extended its two clawed hands. With the back of each touching together, it then flattened its fingers so its talons pointed forward. Paraptome took another step and thrust its razor-sharp claws into the fabric of space and by sheer force, ripped open a hole. A metallic bending sound filled the void and emanations of light from somewhere in the hole reflected off of its chest.

  Paraptome stepped closer and ripped the hole larger. More metal tearing sounds filled The Cavern. It held the rip in space open until, with a single effort, the monster stepped through and disappeared. The tear closed behind with a pounding thud.

  ***

  Nabal howled one more time, extended its wings, and looked upward. The slave demon cowered among the tree branches. Then, above them both, the fabric of space ripped open and from within a wave of intense cold poured out and fell like a waterfall.

  From the rip Paraptome emerged into the clean air. Then behind it, the rip closed with the sound of rapidly moving wind before falling silent. The principality hovered in the air using long powerful strokes as it surveyed the landscape. Finally, looking below, it saw the garden with Nabal on the treetop. Paraptome glided downward and stopped its descent just above the prince, hovering heavily in the air. Nabal bowed its head and dropped its wings.

  Sotare and Nomos instinctively opened theirs defensively. “A principality!” shouted Sotare. Mark saw him turn as he spoke the frightful words, only to vanish. He felt a chill and was once again glad he could not see into the spirit world. He wanted to panic, to run into the house. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Then he felt it, a presence. It was a foreboding manifestation that seemed distant, but somehow detectable. He looked to the treetops.

  Paraptome looked at Mark and growled.

  Mark felt a wave of fear brush against his mind.

  Three birds sitting in one of the trees suddenly took to rapid flight. Then he felt a misty coolness brush up against his skin.

  His heart began to pound. With Sotare being invisible he felt alone and vulnerable.

  “What’s happening?” he asked in a controlled alarm. But Sotare did not respond.

  Mark looked around the garden and again to the treetop. He could see nothing, but he knew something was happening. It was quiet. The sensation of aloneness struck him hard and he realized how utterly weak and fragile he was. There was nothing he could do. He again thought of running into the house, but he knew it would do no good. He considered hiding behind some bushes but quickly dismissed it. He could only wait motionless, quiet, looking to the trees, and hoping Sotare would soon reappear. All he could he do was try to control the rising fear crawling its way into his pounding chest.

  Sotare and Nomos stood between him and the demons, wings spread wide. Sotare glanced back at Mark and could see he was afraid. “We are here, Mark. You will be okay.”

  Mark could not see Sotare but he heard the disembodied voice utter the comforting words. He looked around at the trees and the bushes and tried to focus on what he knew was familiar. He wondered what would happen, if anything.

  Paraptome looked down at the two angels. It saw Mark alone, a weak man, vulnerable. But it knew that even though it could squeeze the life out of this tiny human with the slightest effort, it was not permitted.

  Paraptome spoke to Nabal. “The two angels.”

  “Yes, master. They are weak and can easily be defeated.”

  “Their names.”

  “One is Sotare and the other is Nomos.”

  Paraptome let a deep base rumble show his displeasure as it said, “The names tell me much.”

  “Master, there is more.”

  The principality looked at Nabal.

  “Master, the human has seen me.”

  Paraptome moved his head slightly and flexed his jaws open enough to show more rotting fangs.

  “Master, the human was granted the privilege of seeing our world.”

  The principality looked down at the man and said nothing. Its red eyes narrowed. Nabal kept its distance and tried to bow even lower. “There is yet more.”

  This time the principality did not look at Nabal and made no response, but Nabal knew to continue. “Our forces have told us that the pastor of the man’s father-in-law is now involved and he will soon seek the aid of his congregation in praying directly against us. He has been called to the battle and he has been granted knowledge that this man is important.”

  Paraptome did not remove its eyes from Mark as it listened to the prince and then said, “That is why I am here. Our great master sees all.”

  “We are here to do your bidding.” After that Nabal fell silent, lowered its head further, and waited for its master to speak or move. Sotare and Nomos stood, holding their ground. They could see that Paraptome was watching Mark.

  Without looking at the prince, it said in a guttural base voice that echoed like mild thunder, “We cannot lose this battle. This man must die. But be careful. He is protected. Do not move against him at this time, lest you be injured. I will need you later. Stay and keep watch. I am summoned to kill the pastor.”

  Nabal bowed again in complete submission.

  Paraptome had been hovering but now with slow, heavy movements it lifted its hulking mass into the blue sky and hurried off.

  Sotare and Nomos watched.

  Nomos looked at Mark. “What is this that a principality is summoned?”

  Sotare said nothing.

  ***

  After praying in the hospital for a half hour, Pastor Tim ducked out of the room, thankful for not being disturbed. Once at home he talked to his wife, Suzie, about John and Kathy and how he couldn’t leave without telling them that Mark was somehow important. He told her that he had an unusually strong sensation to spend more time in prayer, and that he would be getting the congregation involved on Sunday, just a couple of days away. Of course, he didn’t tell his wife that he felt his own life was somehow in danger.

  “Do you have any idea why Mark is so important?” she asked.

  “None. Maybe I’m wrong about it all, but down deep I believe that the Lord is going to use him.”

  After that their conversation drifted to other things. She fixed him a sandwich and sat at the table with him. Being a pastor was sometimes very stressful, and they would frequently sit at the table and talk about the ministry and its pressures. Tim would use his wife as a sounding board. She knew that he needed to talk to her and she considered it part of her ministry to him to be available. He never disclosed private things about people in the church, but he still needed to talk to her. She was such a good listener, and it helped him.

  “I know it’s a bit late, but would you mind if I head back to the church to get some books on spiritual warfare? While I’m there, I’d like to spend some time in prayer at the office.”

  “Of course, dear.” She stood up and grabbed the plate and glass as she headed to the sink. “Do you know how long you might be?”

  “I don’t think I’ll be more than a couple hours, if that’s okay with you.” He was right behind her.

  “Of course it is.”

  She stopped at the sink and he gently pressed his body to hers as he hugged her around her waist.

  “Thanks for listening,” he said tenderly.

  “Any time.”

  He kissed the back of her neck and she
relaxed under his caress.

  She watched him as he headed towards the front door, grabbed his keys, and put on his coat.

  “See you later,” he said. “Love you.”

  She responded with a smile. “Love you, too.” She watched him until he disappeared. Going back into the kitchen, she sat down at the dinner table and began to pray.

  It only took ten minutes to get to the church. Once in the parking lot, Tim turned his car off and sat there thinking about the unusual feeling he had regarding Mark and the accompanying impression that he needed to pray. He glanced over at the marquee, which had Sunday’s sermon title: “The Spiritual Battle Between Light and Darkness. Eph. 6.” He wondered if this was a coincidence. Had the Almighty orchestrated what he would speak on in preparation for the impending spiritual battle? He got out of the car and headed inside.

  Above him on the church steeple was a large cross. It was white, about eight feet tall and could be seen for miles. Pastor Tim didn’t think to look at it, but if he had, he would never have known that Paraptome was perched upon one of the horizontal beams.

  Pastor Tim unlocked the front door and went inside. He never did like the idea of locking the church, but it was an unfortunate necessity of the times. Paraptome looked through the church roof into the building, watching the pastor until the man got to his office. Then it opened its wings wide, and let itself slowly glide down through the roof and into the church.

  Paraptome was in the sanctuary. The principality did not like being there but, unlike the weaker demons, it was able to endure the revulsion. It looked around at the pews and the stained-glass windows. It glanced at the pulpit where there was an open Bible turned to 1 Peter 5. It immediately glanced away, not wanting to see its pages. Then it turned its attention to the pastor’s office and looked through the wall. There sat Tim, motionless, resting back in his chair. He was praying. Paraptome growled.

  ***

  Back in the garden, Mark had been waiting patiently for a while.

  “Please tell me what’s happening,” said Mark. “I can’t see you. What’s going on?”

  Sotare heard Mark’s voice. “We are still here. We are watching Nabal.”

  “What is happening?” Mark asked.

  “Right now, nothing. A principality was here, but it is gone now.”

  Mark could feel the cold sting of fear pierce his chest. He glanced over at the house and once again thought about going in to hide.

  “Do you have any idea what he wanted?” Mark peered above the treetops.

  “We do not use personal pronouns when referring to demonic forces. We always say ‘it’ since we do not want to give them even the slightest respect.”

  Mark thought about the words and quickly realized that was exactly how Sotare had referenced demonic forces. He rephrased his question. “Do you have any idea what it wanted?”

  By now Sotare felt comfortable enough to turn his back upon Nabal and answer. As he did, he reappeared. “I do not know if I should tell you what I have heard because I’m not entirely sure what it means. But, I believe that you are entitled to know what it said about you.”

  Mark was suddenly frightened at being the topic of such a powerful evil force.

  “It said that you must die.”

  He stiffened at the words and straightened up. He opened his eyes just a little wider and swallowed hard.

  “It also said that you are protected. This is what I’m confused about and perhaps this explains why they have not attacked us.” Sotare looked into Mark’s eyes and continued, “The principality also said that the pastor at your father-in-law’s church must die. It left to go kill him.”

  Mark lurched forward. “We have to warn him!” He surprised himself with the words. So much so fast, thought Mark. “I can’t believe how quickly I have accepted all of this.” Then he balled his fists as he dismissed what he had just said. “Shouldn’t we warn the pastor?”

  “He has already been warned and is praying.” Sotare looked at Mark in such a way that Mark paused, expecting something serious. He prepared himself.

  “Those given the burden of knowing are the ones called to pray.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but the words rang true. It suddenly occurred to him that he should be praying. But there was a problem.

  “I don’t know how to pray or who to pray to,” said Mark.

  “You will soon enough.” The angel turned back and looked at Nabal who was still watching. “What do you think, Nomos?”

  Nomos turned his attention from Nabal to his fellow angel. “I do not know.” Then he looked at Mark as he spoke to Sotare. “This human is not one of ours, yet so much rests on him.”

  “Yes,” said Sotare.

  Yes, what? Mark thought.

  Nomos continued. “The Almighty must have a great plan for him. I have not seen a prince for many years and now we have seen not only a prince but also, in the same day, a principality.”

  Sotare said, “I do not know what to think.”

  “You don’t know what to think about what?” asked Mark.

  Mark was watching Sotare, who appeared to be staring at nothing, but he knew that Nomos was speaking to him. Sotare turned his attention from the treetop to Mark.

  “I don’t know what to think about you.”

  ***

  John was getting tired as he lay in the hospital bed. He and Kathy had talked about the pastor’s cryptic words and had chitchatted for quite a while since then. John had tried once again to convince Kathy that she needed to trust in Jesus. She politely listened and thought of other things while her father spoke, as was her custom. She was not interested. John knew he wasn’t getting anywhere and didn’t want to push his daughter, so he smiled and squeezed her hand as he changed the subject.

  “You know, I don’t mind if you take off for a while and go get something to eat. You’ve been here long enough, and, besides, I’m getting sleepy. Why don’t you go to the house and relax? You can come back tomorrow. Besides, the doctor isn’t going to release me tonight anyway.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I am getting hungry and I could use a rest. Tell you what. I’ll take you up on that. But, if something happens, just call home and I’ll come running.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” smiled John lovingly.

  She got up from her chair and collected her things before she leaned over the bed and gave him a kiss. “You’re looking good,” she said. “You’ll be back to your old obnoxious self in no time.”

  “All the more to irritate you.”

  “I love you, Dad,” she smiled.

  “I love you, too.”

  For a few pregnant seconds, Kathy considered the mortality of her father as she looked into his eyes. Then she slipped out of the room and paused just outside the door. The perfectly clean corridor smelled of medicine. She thought about how she loved her father and hated to see him like this. Then after a moment, she gathered herself together, readjusted the purse strap on her shoulder, and headed off.

  She had a nagging urge to talk to God about her father. But she dismissed it as a reaction to acute desperation.

  Fatigue began to overtake John. His eyelids grew heavier. As he released himself to the call of sleep, just before closing his eyes and drifting into unconsciousness, he thought he saw a large figure in the room. It hovered in that gray area between consciousness and sleep. He wanted to focus on it, but couldn’t. Sleep took him.

  In the corner of the room, a demon stood, staring at him.

  ***

  Paraptome had been watching the pastor while he was in prayer. As weak and as frail as this mere human was, prayer to the Almighty was a powerful deterrent to attack. It kept the monster at a safe distance. So Paraptome patiently waited in the church as it watched the man through the wall. It regarded him and reflected on eons of memories, many of which involved destroying ministers. They were, after all, only human. The pastor had been praying for twenty minutes. Paraptome
continued to linger, growing more impatient. It stared at the pastor through hate-filled eyes, sizing him up, thinking of how to destroy him. The fact that the pastor prayed regularly meant that he was protected spiritually. But still, he was a sinner like all the rest and was not invincible.

  The principality considered its favorite option, invoking the aid of people who had given themselves over to evil. There were plenty of them in the city and many could be easily manipulated. Yes, that seemed the best way. Still, this was a pastor and although it was possible to influence someone to take this man’s life, the short timeframe needed to accomplish this task would make it very difficult. This left Paraptome with one further option, possession, so it could be done quickly.

  Find a human possessed by a lesser demon. Yes, that would work. Expel the possessor, take over that person, and bring him to the church. “Yes,” said Paraptome aloud. “A Sunday murder in the church.”

  With that, it opened its wings, lurched forward, and glided through the wall, stopping just inside the pastor’s office. It slowly approached the pastor. Paraptome then exhaled its icy breath that mingled with the thick cold that fell from its body.

  Pastor Tim felt the wintry chill in the room. He shivered. Then his prayer was violently interrupted as his mind filled with images of mutilated carcasses of dead animals and tortured people. They flooded into his brain, accosting his heart and soul, drawing his attention towards evil. The images were strong. He tensed his muscles and shook his head as he tried to dispel the images.

  “No,” he said aloud. “No.”

  Paraptome stepped closer and breathed again.

  Tim felt fear scratch across his soul, growing, feeding off the horrible images. He found himself virtually hypnotized by their intensity and horror. Then in an instant he shook his mind free again. “No,” he said. “Lord Jesus, protect me. I need you. Lord Jesus, rebuke the evil one.”

  Instantly the images left.

  Paraptome felt an invisible blow against its chest that set it stumbling backwards out of the room. The creature retreated further after recovering. It growled angrily, showing its fangs as it leaned forward with one step, clenched its clawed hands, and cursed at the pastor. Then it said angrily. “You will die! This Sunday, you will die!” It lifted its wings and in a quick and powerful movement ascended out of the church.