by Nate Allen
speaks disbelief fluently and knows very little about holiness, to speak to the longing in this man’s soul. It isn’t about the rules religion teaches. It isn’t about being a good person, but instead admitting that without Jesus we are utter darkness.
I have a perception nobody else has been able to offer this man. And the same was true of the man who led me to Jesus. Had he been overly expressive or in any way bombastic in his faith, his words would have meant nothing to me. There was a genuine quality that I saw. And for the first time in my life, the idea of Jesus wasn’t ridiculous. Everything clicked suddenly because he met me in my need.
“Hatching a plan, Andrew?” D smiles as he pushes the same button again to stop the rotating hallways. The clicking sound only increases as they slow down. Their speed is now nothing more than the steady spin a merry-go-round carries. “Your guess is as good as mine.” D’s smile only seems to be widening, as he enjoys this game he has full control of. With the remote in his hand, all he has to do is hit the button again to start the spin. And I’m sure as I walk toward one of the eight hallways, he will hit the button to continue running down the clock.
I begin pacing back and forth. And immediately D’s eyes swing from side to side, like an antique cat clock.
“You’re scared, D. You know that everything you’ve built is nothing more than a house of cards. And you also know, as the clock winds down, that if I am able to bring even one true moment of exposure to him, everything you’ve built will fall away.” As I pace back and forth, my hands slip into my pockets. I feel a small piece of paper in my right pocket and something small and plastic in my left.
“Do you know how conflicted I am, Andrew?” D looks at the remote in his hand, then back at me. “I love to inflict agony, but agony also pushes them toward hope. I know I have to dial back the torment, otherwise it could push them right into the Light. But, I can’t help myself. I live on pain. I gain my energy through anguish. I want to strip every human clean of their unique personalities and leave them nothing more than identical bags of garbage. You don’t know how much I wish I could walk over to you right now, unhinge my jaw like a snake, and eat you alive.”
Even though the chill that shoots down my spine is immediate, I continue walking back and forth, now palming the item from each pocket. “What’s stopping you?”
“You’re off limits,” he rolls his eyes dramatically. “And even if you weren’t, I’m saving my appetite. A big meal is about to land squarely in my territory, where the “blessed Savior” can never intervene again.”
I know the only way I can see what has been given to me is to trick D once again. His weakness is his arrogance. He thinks he is master of this world, forgetting that he, like me, is mere creation. I am on a mission from the Creator Himself and whatever has been left for me I know has the power to disrupt his plans.
6
With a few final loud clicks, the halls come to a complete stop. I stop pacing and stare at the hall farthest away from me, directly ahead.
“I understand that you aren’t going to let me go down any of the hallways, D.” I say as I walk toward the hall farthest from both me and him. The entrance is probably fifty yards away.
“I can’t take any chances, Andrew. You understand. I’m still recovering from losing you. And unlike the blessed Savior, I have no problems manipulating someone into my hands.”
“Can you at least tell me the man’s name? I want to know who I’ve failed.” I hang my head in staged defeat as I pull both the piece of paper and plastic thing from my pockets and hide them within my now clasped hands.
“His name is Evan Charles.” I am turned away from D completely and yet I know what his expression is. Even from this distance I can feel his perverse elation. And I can just imagine that smile growing across his face. He thinks he’s won. And maybe I’m so convincing because it’s still a possibility that I will fail. But, I know I will at least have a chance to reach this man.
“I’m so-sorry, Evan Charles,” I’m not entirely sure if the tears forming in my eyes are pretend or not. As I drop down to my knees, the tremble in my breathing is apparent. And the sounds coming from me are ugly. I’m trying to deceive the deceiver with a convincing production, but the emotions coming from me aren’t pretend. There is no guarantee that Evan will be saved. And I feel that reality in its barest form.
Both items are closed within my clasped hands. On my knees, still looking toward the farthest hall, I open my hands like a book. The plastic item is a timer, continuing the countdown. And the sheet of paper has only two things written:
You are the light of the world. (Matt 5:14)
My times are in Your hands, deliver me from the hands of my enemies, from those who pursue me. (Psalms 31:15)
“You are the light of the world,” I whisper softly. And immediately, a faint trail of light appears down the third hall to my right.
Out of the corner of my eye I see D’s smile drop off.
“I should’ve known He wouldn’t send you in empty handed.” he sees the light too. “He never plays fair!”
I turn back toward D. His composed appearance has quickly started to unwind. The sense that something much darker is about to manifest fills the entirety of this lobby. D’s whole body now looks like a thin article of clothing about to tear.
He pushes the button on the remote once again. And immediately, the loud clicking follows the growing spin of the hallways.
“You will not stop everything I’ve worked for! He will not win!” D’s identity is disappearing completely within the identity now coming forth. The only thing left of D is a body that looks like it’s packed full with worms. His form is uneven and bowing out in places. Whatever’s underneath the surface is beginning to break free. His skin begins to split open in random places and small sickly-red worms spill out onto the ground. The smell is immediate and overbearing. It’s a mixed bag of raw sewage and expired eggs.
As more worms spill out of D, and his body droops to the side like a plastic bag with a terrible tear, it’s clear that nothing was inside of D, nothing but worms and a putrid smell holding him together. He wasn’t the devil. He was an intercom. He was a vessel.
Now that D’s body has fallen apart, the presence filling this lobby is far worse. Something did release, but it can’t be seen. And the feeling of danger is very real once again. Even with my clothing a Holy armor, it still feels like I could be severely injured.
The clicking from the spin seems muffled as the atmosphere around me turns frigid. And the sudden squirm of my skin now seems to match the countless worms gathering on the lobby floor. They almost look like the shredded intestines of many men gathered together. But, they aren’t lifeless. They move as one unit toward me slowly. Yet, the sick feeling they bring can be felt even though they aren’t near me. I almost wonder if they are the devil’s hands, because the evil present all around me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. And I wonder if all of the eyes on the ceiling are eyes he controls and uses to survey.
Maybe the devil has no true form. Maybe he is a spirit who constantly has to jump from vessel to vessel, whether it’s in bugs, animals, or humans. Maybe his power is so diminished by God that he is unable to hold a form of his own and has to use whatever he can to work through.
I look all around me. Even though I can still see the hint of light sitting like a permanent dot with every rotation, I don’t know how to enter the hallway Evan is down. The remote fell when D broke apart, and is now covered by the moving pile of worms.
The chaos only seems to be growing around me. I look down at the timer in my hand and then at the piece of paper. Speaking the second set of words must be the answer. They were given to me for a reason.
“My times are in Your hands, deliver me from the hands of my enemies, from those who pursue me.”
Time has stopped. And everything now looks like a picture. The light is a frozen streak down the hallway behind me, opposite of where the dot was. I turn toward it and begin to run. My footsteps so
und like small explosions that echo endlessly against an empty atmosphere. The faster I run, the more the sound grows into an endless overlapping of THUDS.
I understand very little about this world. It’s different than my counterfeit. Or maybe I’m just seeing what happens below the surface. If D was always made up of stink and worms, he had me fooled from the moment he introduced himself on my beach property. Or maybe this is only what I see because I’m saved.
When I look back at my counterfeit, all of the things I didn’t see make me think that world was run in a very similar way. D appeared only when I was searching for something more, to throw me off, to have me chasing anything but The Truth. I can’t help but wonder what Evan sees when he steps out into the hallway or visits the lobby. I can’t imagine he sees what’s below the surface. I imagine he sees only what the devil wants him to; I’m seeing everything Evan doesn’t.
Otherwise, why would he believe this lie? Who could see the things I’m seeing and reason it away? Even if I didn’t know Jesus, the terrifying details would scare me enough to look for Him.
I’m nearing the hallway now. I may be twenty feet away, which isn’t close enough. Moment by moment, everything starts to smear the clarity that came with frozen time. Slowly, time is thawing. As the hallways begin to slowly move again, the