by Bill Myers
Nothing happened.
Ryan and Becka exchanged glances. What was wrong? In the past, they’d had total authority through Christ. The things had to obey.
Once again the voice started to chuckle.
Ryan repeated himself. “Leave! Now!”
The chuckle turned to laughter … mocking, cackling. “You have no authority.”
Ryan knew better. “Oh yes, we do, and in the name of Jesus, I demand you — ”
“Julie wants me here,” the voice interrupted. “Julie invited me here.”
“You’re a liar,” Ryan shot back. “You leave her, and you leave her now.”
No reaction.
Again Becka and Ryan traded looks. What was going on?
Finally Becka leaned to Ryan and whispered, “What if it’s right?
What if Julie wants it to stay?”
Ryan frowned. “Are you saying there’s nothing we could do to help then?”
“It’s her choice. She’s the one who has to decide. It’s just like Dr. Woods going to hell. If he wanted to go there, God wouldn’t stop him. If Julie wants this thing, then — ”
“That’s right,” the voice hissed, “Julie wants me here, she wants my knowledge.” The voice grew more confident. “She wants my power, she wants my — ”
Becka interrupted, “I want to speak to Julie.” There was a moment’s hesitation.
“Now!” Becka demanded.
Instantly the eyes rolled up and then down. Once again Julie was back on the surface.
Becka approached the bed. “Julie … Julie, you’ve got to listen to me. We can’t make this thing leave on our own. You invited it in, you have to want it to go.”
“He won’t let me. He keeps pushing me under, threatening to put me to sleep. Besides, I had to do it. Grandma — ”
“No,” Ryan interrupted. “This isn’t what your grandmother was talking about, Julie! This thing has nothing to do with heaven! Becka and I, we can make it leave, but you’ve got to want it to go!”
Julie’s eyes started to flutter.
“No,” Becka shouted. “Fight it, Julie … fight it!” The girl’s body tensed. Her face twisted and scowled as her head tossed back and forth. Somewhere, deep inside, a fierce battle was raging. Julie began to sweat profusely. Her body convulsed. She began coughing, gagging, until, finally, she vomited — all over her pajamas, all over the bedding. She took a deep breath then convulsed again, spewing even more vomit. “Help me!” she gasped. “Please.”
The wind in the room was growing stronger again.
“Julie,” Becka cried intently, “you’ve got to deny this thing.
You’ve got to refuse it. All of it! The power, the knowledge, everything. You’ve got to give it all up.”
“But — ”
“Everything!”
“Stop it!” the other voice growled. “She wants me! She wants — ”
“You’re a liar!” Becka cried. “Satan ‘is the father of lies.’ ” The Scripture verse hit its mark. An agonizing scream escaped Julie’s lips. Her body writhed as if acid had been thrown on it.
Becka pressed in, shouting over the rising wind. “Julie, refuse this thing! Deny it! We can’t make it leave unless you want it to!”
Julie came back to the top, only for a second, but long enough to gasp, “Yes … yes!”
That was all they needed. With full confidence Becka shouted,
“By the power and authority of Jesus Christ, I command you to leave Julie.”
Nothing happened.
“No more games. Now!”
Julie’s body doubled over.
“Now!”
Julie threw her head back. Her voice screamed. It was unearthly — full of agony, torment, betrayal.
“Stop it!” Becka shouted. “Leave her now!” Instantly, the scream faded, and Julie collapsed onto the bed.
She was totally limp. It was over. Just like that, the battle had been won. Rebecca closed her eyes. The demon was gone. She knew it.
“Thank you, Jesus … thank you … ,” she whispered gratefully. Once again, the enemy had done everything possible to make them doubt the authority they had in Christ, to test their faith, to throw them off. But, once again, God had stood by his promises and given Becka and Ryan the strength to win.
Becka glanced at Ryan. He nodded, knowingly. “I’ll get some stuff to wash her up.”
Becka nodded, then watched as he headed into the hall. She closed her eyes again and took a very deep breath. She was tired.
Very tired. It had been a long, exhausting day — a long, exhausting week.
Julie stirred, and Becka stepped up to the bed. The girl moaned and opened her eyes.
“Oh, Beck …” Her voice was weak and feeble.
“It’s okay, Jules. It’s over now.”
A worn and beaten Julie looked up at Becka, her eyes full of helplessness and shame. Becka knelt on the bed and wrapped her arms around her friend. Julie began to weep. “It was so awful,” she sobbed, “so awful. I tried to come up, I tried to warn them, but …”
“Shh, it’s okay now, it’s all over.” She felt the girl’s back grow rigid, then the grip around her own body tighten. Becka tried to pull away, but Julie’s grasp increased. Suddenly Becka felt herself being lifted off the floor and pulled onto the bed.
“Julie, what are you — ” Becka’s words were cut off as the air was forced from her lungs. She tried to free herself, but the grip was too strong — and growing tighter by the second. She tried to breathe, but it was becoming more and more difficult. She squirmed and twisted.
“Julie … I can’t breathe!”
The grip tightened even more, and what air she had was forced out. Fear swept over Becka. She fought — twisting, turning, rolling — but the hold could not be broken.
“Julie … ,” she gasped.
But Julie didn’t hear; Julie was no longer in charge. Becka’s lungs burned for air. She had to get some oxygen. She kicked and thrashed for all she was worth. The edges of her vision began turning white, growing fuzzy. She needed air. She was passing out.
There was another hellish laugh, but it was slightly different from before. Becka could feel Julie’s mouth draw near to her ear.
And then, ever so quietly, the voice whispered: “Did you really think there was only one of us?”
Adrenaline surged through Becka’s body. She twisted, rolled, jerked, kicked. By arching her back, she managed to roll them off the bed and onto the floor. They hit hard and began thrashing back and forth over the broken pieces of glass and mirror.
The fall had momentarily broken Julie’s grip. Becka breathed just enough air, she found just enough faith to gasp, “Stop … in Christ’s name, I … command you to stop!” Instantly, the struggle ceased. Julie’s grip relaxed. For a long moment the two girls lay on the floor, panting, trying to catch their breath. The wind continued to blow. Becka started dragging herself toward the door. She had to get out of there. She didn’t think she could withstand another attack.
Then, slowly, with seemingly superhuman strength, Julie sat up. Her head swiveled toward Becka, and once again the mouth distorted into a hideous grin.
Becka froze. “How many — ” she fought to catch her breath — “how many of you are there?”
Julie’s face slowly changed. But not like before. This time the change was complete … and inhuman. Images superimposed themselves over the girl’s face. Hideous images. First a grotesque gargoyle, then a wolf ’s head, then a half-snake, half-monkey, then a giant rat.
Becka’s heart pounded wildly as the faces continued, one after another after another. She had her answer. It was true, the guardian had obeyed the command she and Ryan gave it. It had left. But it had opened the door for others. He was gone, but there were a dozen more remaining.
Becka rose unsteadily to her feet. The wind stung her eyes and made them water. She tried to call to Ryan, but she was too weak and too afraid. Unable to take her eyes off the changing face, she st
arted backing toward the door. She was exhausted and afraid.
Suddenly, the wind ripped the curtains off their rods. They flew from the window directly at her. She screamed and tried to duck, but they hit her, instantly wrapping around her face, her body, her arms. She clawed at them, staggering blindly, trying to pull them away, trying to scream. But the terror was too great.
She lost her balance. She stumbled once, twice, then crashed to the floor.
More hellish laughter: deafening, chilling, paralyzing. It was drawing closer. The thing had raised Julie to her feet and was approaching. Unable to see, crazed with panic, Becka tore at the curtains, but it did no good.
God! God! her mind screamed in panic as the laughter roared above her as the creature prepared to strike.
**********
Mom continued reading and praying.
“ ‘A thousand fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you. You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked. If you make the Most High your dwelling — even the Lord, who is my refuge — then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways, they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone. You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.’ ”
**********
Somewhere in the back of Becka’s terrified mind, a small spark of reason ignited … a microscopic ember that the panic had not completely put out … a tiny point of light that could not be extinguished. She drew deep, rapid breaths of air through her constricted throat. She would try again.
The words were faint, barely audible, more thought than spoken. “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to stop …” The wind ceased. The curtains went limp.
Becka fought with the material, tearing it off her face, away from her body … only to see Julie standing above her, snarling, preparing for a final lunge. Suddenly Becka heard another voice.
“ ‘The Lord rebuke you!’ ” Ryan shouted as he entered the room.
Julie’s voice shrieked. Her body reeled backward until it crashed into the far wall.
Ryan wasted no time. “By the power and authority of Jesus Christ, we command you to leave — all of you! Leave Julie this instant. We cast you into the abyss, we cast each of you into the lake of fire, never to return!”
Julie’s head flew back, and a screeching howl erupted from her throat … and then, slowly, limply, she slid to the floor. There was only silence. The howl had stopped, the wind had faded.
Now there was nothing except quiet weeping. Becka rose to her feet. Slowly, cautiously, she crossed to Julie, who was huddled against the wall in a broken heap.
“I’m sorry … ,” Julie cried softly.
Becka knelt to her side. “Julie?”
Julie looked up, her face smudged with sweat and blood and tears. “Becka … I’m so sorry …”
This time Rebecca knew it was over. Completely. This time she knew she was talking to the real Julie. And this time, as the two fell into an embrace, Becka also began to cry.
**********
“ ‘Because he loves me,’ says the Lord, ‘I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.’ ”
Mom closed her eyes. “Amen,” she prayed, breathing a sigh of relief. “Amen, dear Jesus, amen, amen …”
Chapter 12
The last period of the day was over. News that Ryan had lost the election had just been announced over the school intercom. Now everyone was shuffling out into the halls and heading for home. If the defeat had been announced two weeks earlier, it would have surprised everyone. After all, Ryan Riordan had been everybody’s pal, the All-American Good Guy. But it hadn’t taken Krissi long to spread the dirt she’d learned about him in Julie’s bedroom. And it hadn’t taken long for that dirt to destroy Ryan’s chances of winning any type of election.
As Ryan and Becka moved down the hall, a couple of guys offered him a “Tough break, Riordan.” But that was about it for sympathy. Everyone else just passed without speaking. They were either unsure of what to say or figured Ryan wasn’t worth the effort of saying anything.
“I can’t blame them,” Ryan sighed as they rounded the corner and headed for their lockers. “I did kinda let everyone down.” Becka reached out to take his hand. “Not me,” she said quietly.
He looked down at her and smiled. It was the killer smile.
The one she’d missed seeing for so long. The one that put that warm glow in the center of her chest.
She knew the last few days had been rough on him. Losing the election was tough, but going to Mr. Patton, the geometry teacher, and offering to do makeup assignments wasn’t so easy, either. Nor was visiting the stereo shop and working out a payment plan for the stereo he’d stolen. Yet he never told a soul. The reason was simple. Ryan wasn’t doing it to earn back his reputation. He did it because he thought it was the right thing to do.
Becka held his hand tighter.
“Ryan … hey, Ryan!”
They both recognized the voice and turned to see Krissi making her way through the crowd. “Hi, guys,” she chirped. Becka watched in wonder. After all but single-handedly causing Ryan to lose the election, after managing to trash both of their reputations, here she was acting as if nothing had happened! Good ol’ Krissi. Good ol’ empty-headed, who-can-help-but-love-her Krissi.
“How you guys doing?” she asked, pulling up alongside them.
Ryan shrugged. “Could be better.”
A frown almost creased her perfect brow. “Oh, that … Sorry, but Xandrak says we should always live in truth.”
“Xandrak?” Ryan asked.
“Yeah, you know, the alien who’s writing messages through me.”
“Alien?” Ryan repeated. “Listen, Krissi, I don’t think Xandrak is such a — ”
Krissi raised up her hand. “I know what you’re going to say.
Xandrak has already told me. That’s why he said I should stay away from you two. He says your way of thinking is old-fashioned. That it’s holding us back from entering the new paradigm shift.”
“The new … what?” Becka asked.
“You wouldn’t understand.” Krissi turned to her bag and began digging. “Your minds have been too polluted. Listen, are you going to see Julie?”
“Yeah,” Ryan answered. “We’ve been having a Bible study with her.”
Krissi continued to rummage. “So she’s become a Chris tian?”
“Yeah,” Becka responded. “After all that happened she couldn’t wait.”
“She sure felt embarrassed, though,” Ryan added. “I mean, being sucked into all that counterfeit stuff.” Becka nodded. “I told her we’ve all been sucked in at times.” She cast a glance at Ryan. It was true. They’d all been fooled by the lies at one time or another. Becka went on, “I’m just relieved she knows it was lies now. From that supposed trip to heaven — ”
Ryan interrupted, “Which she now realizes was either a total dream or another major deception.”
“ — all the way to that demon creep,” Becka finished.
Krissi raised her eyebrows. “Hmmmm,” was her only comment.
“But she’s still got a lot of questions,” Ryan said.
“I’ll bet she does,” said Krissi as she pulled a note from her bag and shoved it into Becka’s hand. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s from Xandrak. It’s about your little brother. I shouldn’t be letting you read it, but I figured, what the heck, I won’t be staying on this planet much longer anyway, so what does it matter.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Krissi turned. “I’ll be in the mother ship.”
“Krissi, what are you — what do yo
u mean?” Krissi had already turned and started off.
“Krissi?” But she disappeared into the crowd.
Ryan looked to Becka. “Mother ship? Aliens? She won’t be on this planet much longer? Any idea what she’s talking about?” Becka could only shake her head. Then, remembering the note, she unfolded it and took a look.
Greetings in the name of the Intergalactic Alliance: One enemy is no longer a threat. His mind has been ensnared by his own imaginings. Unlike his older sister, he has been neutralized. He is ours. Soon she and her kind will follow. Peace and prosperity.
Xandrak.
Becka’s knees began to weaken.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked.
Her hand trembled as she passed the note to him. She closed her eyes. She had no idea what it all meant.
But she had a sickening feeling she would be finding out.
The Encounter
Book 6
The coming of the lawless one will be in accordance with the work of Satan displayed in all kinds of counterfeit miracles, signs and wonders, and in every sort of evil that deceives those who are perishing. They perish because they refused to love the truth and so be saved.
2 Thessalonians 2:9 – 10
Chapter 1
How are you coming?” Philip asked as he peered over the stack of library books at Krissi.
The girl sighed and lifted her perfectly manicured nails to brush her perfect dark hair out of her perfect green eyes. “If you keep interrupting my concentration,” she complained, “nothing will happen.”
“Sorry,” he said.
“Xandrak only writes through me if I relax and keep my mind clear.”
Philip chuckled and returned to his books. If there was ever a person who would be able to keep her mind clear, it was Krissi.
As far as he knew she hadn’t had a deep thought in years. But getting her to relax was another thing. Let’s face it — opening yourself up to the influence of aliens and allowing them to write messages through you would tend to make anyone a little nervous.
But that’s what Krissi was doing, and she was getting good at it. Very good. The process was called automatic handwriting, and during the past week its effects had grown stronger than ever. Often the writing would repeat the same phrases over and over again. Phrases that always emphasized Krissi was a specially chosen Light Worker, that she would help usher in the New Age of spiritual enlightenment, and that if she listened carefully to the Ascended Masters, she could help cleanse the planet and rescue it from its self-destruction.