Unholy Advent: Deception Of The Christ
Page 31
The people were weak, but still they marched. Months of pressing forward through the sand in the path laid by the Mahdi had sapped them of their strength, but not their will to succeed.
Days were long, nights all too brief to allow them sufficient rest through which to rejuvenate their aching bones and muscles. Food and water were scarce, only available to nourish them once each morning when they awoke near the mysterious oasis that seemed to follow them.
They stayed there for an hour each day to pray, eat and drink of the cool crystal waters. Once the column of humanity started moving again, however, each of them followed with determination in their hearts that was no longer mirrored in the strength of their bodies.
Their faith in the promises of the Mahdi was strong; largely unchallenged despite the efforts of the handful of souls that had risen to question his holiness. Those who had dared to doubt the path they travelled were abandoned to the desert; left behind in the barren wasteland with nothing to sustain them. These people were never to be seen or heard from again, further testament to the righteousness of the road ahead.
Most days were virtually the same. Never-ending hours spent fighting the spongy grip of the sand that tried to hold them in place with each step. The sun would rise and burn high above, then descend to reveal the beauty of the Black Stone in orbit over Jerusalem, just where Ibrahim Ali Sabra had thrown it so many moons ago. It seemed no closer in the sky each time they looked upon it; but that made no matter to their enchanted eyes. The strength of Islam would reach the Holy City -- even if it was their grandchildren who first laid their feet on the promised soil.
A wind rose up before them, similar to the cyclonic force that had once birthed a one-eyed priest before their eyes long ago on their voyage. It was different this time, however; bringing forth several dust-devils that made haste towards the front of the line where the Mahdi traveled in opulence.
The convoy stopped in their tracks as the furious clouds collided with something in the expanse ahead of them. It lit up when struck by the sand - revealing a supernatural dome around them which seemed to impede their progress through the desert. The magical wall glistened and sparkled with each grain that beat against it, looking divine in its might and scale.
Their trusted Mahdi peered out through the curtains of his regal chariot and beheld an incredible sight in the midst of all his people. Suddenly the sky darkened, leaving only the burning star ahead to provide light.
A blinding beam put off by the point of light struck this dome high above them, acting like a massive projector as it brought to life a stunning feature on the unnatural Imax screen before their eyes.
It first showed them Cameron Jennings standing in his sacristy, confronted by a statue with which he argued vehemently.
"The sixth rallies the world, though a bubble in time confounds him." The visage of Christ explained to the cheers of all the people in the blackened sand.
The background changed to reveal a patch of woods, Jennings in the company of a black man and woman as he preached his word to them
"The Lord has returned, Mister Jackson..." He said, the sounds blasting on the wind in at a deafening volume. "He will lead us into a new day in which his glory shall shine upon all of the Earth."
The images changed, mirroring the desert through which they trekked. They saw the giant image of their anointed leader in the presence of the priest.
"I see you've been talking to my people." Their Mahdi started to another round of cheers.
"I have -- and they tell me that you have spoken with mine." The foreign preacher replied.
"If you mean The Lord - then yes. He came to me in the fog of battle, compelling me to put aside my arms and walk with him to Heaven."
Cries of Allah went up, then the display showed them Jennings before the Christ in the sand as they exchanged words again.
"You tell this man that he is to be a god, yet you ask me to do your bidding with no indication of my purpose? Then this man paints me as the anti-Christ and suggests that he is out to slay me and some army I am to rally?"
"What I've said to Ali Sabra is between he and I - none of your concern." The Lord returned.
"Ibrahim Ali Sabra? Do you have any idea who he is? He is a butcher! His atrocities are unrivaled in the modern era! He's a modern day Hitler!"
The masses cursed the man and his words brought to light by the glorious star.
"These are the chosen people?" The priest continued with ire and loathing to further boos and inflammatory insults. "They see no value in Christ! They discount the words of the man you purport to be! You would let them rule the world? Surely you're joking! I won't let you do it! I'll fight you!"
They were shown a dark place surrounded by iron bars in the next scene as the preacher addressed two bulky men.
"You're soldiers?" He asked excitedly.
"The best!" One of them glowed in return. "United States Navy Seals, baby!"
More boos erupted.
"Oh, this is excellent! A great battle is brewing, gentlemen. An army of demons commanded by the devil himself is closing on the Holy Land! You are commanded by God himself to fight there, in his name!"
More pictures showed them Jennings standing atop a wall of shrubbery, a strange beast with the head of a ram in his presence.
"He cohorts with demons!" Someone cried from the crowd. "He IS the anti-Christ incarnate!"
Then they saw him on the Mount Of Olives, overlooking the land promised to Ishmael before his father was deceived, robbing them of the birthright he was due. A fervor brewed among them, their hungry eyes finally catching a glimpse of the prize they sought to reclaim.
They saw him approach the Dome Of The Rock, a structure willed to them by God himself. He entered their sacred Well Of Souls and met with a woman, further condemning them in his blasphemous speech.
"A white light brought me here, delivering me to my people." The woman said. "That voice told them I was the Mashiach - that they were to follow my command. We were promised peace everlasting..."
"No peace for the cursed sons of Isaac!" The people wailed.
"The people of the desert are ruthless and deceitful themselves." The anti-Christ said. "They would trick us to suit their ends just as likely as they would stand with us. We fight, but as Jews and Christians united. This Mahdi and his people will be no match for us if we do not fight against one another as well."
"They conspire against us as always!" Another shouted from the crowd. "They will fall in pools of their own blood!"
"I have a plan..." Jennings continued before them. "Trust me, we will win the day."
The screen now showed the visage of Ibrahim Ali Sabra - the promised Mahdi who would lead them to victory. His face smiled upon them, stirring a renewed vigor in their hearts to stand at his side in the quest for redemption. He raised a hand in this projection and struck against the fabric of the dome, shattering it in an incredible explosion as though it were a great wall of glass.
As chunks of a glowing energy rained down upon them, they pressed forward; clearing the barrier that had trapped them in place and setting out through a new landscape which they had not seen before.
The path was clear before them, now... they marched on to Israel, where Islam would reign forever.
Chapter 32