Prophecies Unfolding
By: Tim McPhee
“As blood drips from her bloody wings, it is a song of death she sings,” I suggested.
“This is supposed to be a love song, Ed,” said Daren, my band’s lead guitarist.
“Then what’s with all the violent crap about the angel?” I asked.
“He was defending his love, whom he referred to as angel in the metaphorical sense,” he explained. “Why does everything always have to be about death with you?”
“Why does everything always have to be about love with you?” I retorted.
“Guys, I think you should just calm down,” said Steve, our rhythm guitarist and vocalist. “These were Daren’s lyrics, and he says it’s supposed to be a song about love.”
“Why don’t we just run through it without the vocals for now,” suggested John, our bassist. Neither guitarist heard him, as they never really seem to. They both went about checking their guitars and pedals.
“Guys?” I asked.
“What?” They responded, looking up simultaneously.
“Run through it without the vocals?” I asked.
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” said Daren.
I glanced over at John, who was going about his business, used to not receiving any respect from the guitarists. The myth is that the bassist is the loser of the band, but this was simply ridiculous. Daren and Steve rarely even realized when John spoke and never got his name right.
I picked up my drumsticks and counted us into our latest song entitled “Heaven’s Angel”. It was the latest of twenty or so songs of ours about love, most of them written by Daren. It made me sick. Most of them sounded the same to me. I figured he probably thought the same thing about the songs of death that I wrote.
As we came out of the solo I noticed, like always, that Steve had fallen slightly out of time with me and that Daren had fallen drastically out of time with him. I slammed my sticks down in disgust.
“Did Don screw up or something?” asked Daren.
“Damn it, his name’s John!” I shouted, “And it was you who screwed up!”
“Are you sure?” he said, perplexed. “I was counting.”
Frustration coursed through my body.
“You have the worst sense of rhythm I have ever seen,” I said in a low voice, hardly containing my frustration.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Han?” asked Steve.
“John, damn it! His name is John!” I shouted again. “Why the Hell can’t you get that right?”
Another myth is that the drummer is the dumbest in the band, but that myth never appeared to hold true to my band.
“Maybe that’s enough practice for one day,” said Daren. “Let’s go get some beer.”
“Can I come this time?” asked John.
Daren and Steve looked at each other.
“No.” They said in unison.
“Yes,” I said. “John’s a part of this band, too, and he’s coming with us.”
We grabbed some beer from the fridge and headed toward Dead Man’s Point, a cliff overlooking much of the city. We went there a lot to just hang around. It was rare for John to come with us.
“Two weeks until the battle of the bands,” said Daren.
“I can’t wait, man,” said Steve.
“I want to use ‘Heaven’s Angel’,” said Daren.
“No way in Hell,” I said. “You need to work on that a lot before it’ll be presentable to anybody.”
“Me?” he seemed shocked. “This is supposed to be a group effort. We’re supposed to be a part of the team.”
I was going to reply, but I noticed the clouds suddenly part much faster than seemed natural. Rays of bright sun shone from behind them as a smaller cloud floated out of the newly made part. The cloud came towards us. We all stared at it, mesmerized.
“Uh, guys?” said John.
“Not now, Juan,” said Daren.
“Guys?” John asked again.
“Not now, Ron,” said Steve.
“Guys?” John’s voice almost a squeak this time.
“What is it, John,” I asked, wrenching my gaze from the cloud floating towards to John. He was clinging to the side of the cliff, barely keeping his grip.
“Help!” he squeaked as he continued to slip.
“Shit!” I swore as I dove to grab a hold of his wrist. I missed.
He didn’t even scream as he fell down the slope, twisting and turning, his body and limbs bending at unnatural angles.
“John,” I whispered, staring at his unmoving form so far below me.
“Whoa, there’s someone standing on that strange cloud,” said Steve, oblivious to what just happened to our bassist. Rage was now seething through me. John lay at the bottom of the cliff, most likely dead, and these two idiots were unaware anything was even wrong.
“Hey, he’s wearing funny robes,” said Daren.
“You bastards,” I spat, rising to my feet and turning to face them.
“What’s your problem?” asked Daren, taking his eyes off the scene in the sky.
“You don’t even know!” I shouted, rage taking control of my body. I launched myself at him and pinned him to the ground, repeatedly punching him in the face. “You worthless piece of sh-”
“Hey, calm down,” said Steve, trying to pull me off of Daren. I elbowed Steve in the abdomen. As he doubled over I wrapped one arm around his thigh and the other over his neck. Supporting his weight on my shoulders, I pulled him into a fireman’s carry and flipped him onto his back.
As I prepared to continue my assault on both of them, I noticed a pair of sandaled feet standing in front of me. As I looked up, my gaze passed over flowing white robes and rested upon a serene, bearded face.
“Peace, my son,” said the man as he reached out and placed his hand on my forehead. I felt all of my rage melt away to be replaced by the most peaceful sensation I had ever felt.
“Who are you?” I asked, rising.
“My name is Jesus,” he said.
First reaction would normally have been to laugh.
Normally.
I had just witnessed the death of one of my friends. In my rage at the uncaring of my other two friends I had turned on them, laid them flat, and left one with a bloody face while the other clutched his stomach. Anguish and rage had proved to be a powerful combination. This man took them away. Because of this, I had reason to believe his outrageous claim.
“Jesus?” demanded Daren, spitting up a bloody tooth.
“Yes,” said the man, walking over to Daren and touching his face. The blood disappeared from Daren’s face, leaving no trace of attack. He felt his teeth with his tongue and exclaimed that they were all present.
“Jesus?” said Steve, slowly rising.
“Yes,” repeated Jesus. After witnessing his healing powers, there was little doubt left in my mind. “I come seeking the one known as ‘John’,” he continued.
“Uh, John’s a pretty common name these days,” said Daren.
“Do we know a ‘John’?” asked Steve.
“I was to meet one named John at this spot,” said Jesus.
I looked at where John fell from the cliff, then at the empty beer bottles. I estimated several were John’s.
“Nobody’s here but us, Jesus,” said Steve. “Me, Daren, Ed, and...and...”
“Fawn?” Daren tried to help.
“Kahn?” pondered Steve. “Hey, Ed, who was that other guy who came with us; the bassist?”
“I’m afraid John’s had an accident, Jesus,” I said, leading him to the side of the cliff. I pointed to John’s prone form at the bottom.
“Oh dear,” said Jesus.
“Can’t you bring him back or something?” I asked.
“His soul has already departed,” said Jesus. “I was supposed to take John and show him all that is to come to pass so that he may record it.”
“Didn’t some other John already do that a long time ago?” I asked. “You know, the guy who recorded revelations.”
“Yes,” replied Jesus. “Father had him reincarnated so he could record it all again and check for accuracy and consistency in Father’s prophesies.”
“What about spelling and grammar?” I asked.
“Pardon?” said Jesus.
“Nothing,” I replied. “So now what?”
“Well,” said Jesus, sighing, “I suppose I must find another scribe. Can you show me to the marketplace to find one?”
“Marketplace?” asked Steve, walking up to us with Daren.
“In this day, Jesus, everybody has a right to education,” I said. “Scribes are no longer required.”
“Really?” he asked.
I nodded.
“In that case, maybe you can help me,” he said.
“Me?” I asked.
“All three of you,” said Jesus, turning to look at Daren and Steve. “Six eyes should be able to catch more than two.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Daren.
“Yeah, I’ll go,” said Steve.
“Wait a minute,” I said. “You’re going to show us Revelations unfold?”
“Mainly the interesting parts,” Jesus replied. “Some of the boring parts in the beginning have already occurred.”
“You openly admit they were boring?” I asked.
“Hey, I’m not going to sugar-coat it,” said Jesus, shrugging.
“So when do we go?” asked Daren.
“We shall begin immediately. Take these pieces of parchment,” he said, handing us yellow sheets of what seemed to be a primitive form of paper, “and record all that you see in our travels.”
“All we’re going to see is going to fit on this?” asked Steve.
“It is magic parchment,” explained Jesus. “Your words shall disappear as you write and reappear on a larger scroll in Heaven.”
“Cool,” said Daren.
“Cool?” Jesus asked, giving him a confused look.
“It’s a slang word meaning ‘interesting’,” I explained.
“What are we going to write with?” asked Steve.
“These simple quills,” said Jesus, producing three feathered quills. “They will never run dry of their ink.”
“That’s always useful,” I muttered, accepting my quill.
“How long is this going to take?” asked Daren. “I told my girlfriend I’d call her around ten.”
“In our journey we shall transcend time and space,” said Jesus.
“What?” asked Steve, a blank look on his face.
“Your mortal lives as you knew them are now over,” explained Jesus. “You are to be the three witnesses of the end of this world.”
“That has to suck,” I muttered.
“I shall take you to the key events which shall unfold over the next few years,” continued Jesus. “We shall travel undetected and observe invisibly. You will record all you see.”
“You already mentioned that part,” said Daren sincerely.
“Taking notes sucks,” said Steve in disgust.
“Shut up,” I said, “We’re going to see more than anybody else will.”
“It’s not all going to be glorious,” said Jesus, sagely, “You will witness horrors beyond the imagination of even the most evil mortals.”
We finally all stood silent.
“That’s pretty bad,” I said after the pause.
“Yes, well,” said Jesus, “shall we begin?”
“Oh, my God,” said Daren, his mouth dropping at the sight of the figure seated upon the golden throne.
“Yes, quite,” said Jesus.
Jesus had taken us to Heaven on his magic cloud and we now looked upon a large throne surrounded by twenty-four smaller thrones. The figures seated in the smaller thrones wore all white with golden crowns on their heads. The figure seated in the large throne was difficult to describe. His skin gleamed as if it had been made of a precious stone, making it difficult to determine his exact features. Before the throne there were seven torches burning and beyond them, a sea of crystal-clear glass.
The phrase, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God” was sang over and over again by some unseen vocalists. As the chanting progressed, the figures on the twenty-four smaller thrones fell to their knees, threw their crowns before the large throne and worshipped the figure seated there.
“Hey, I think that’s God,” said Steve, scribbling on his parchment.
“I read about this in Revelations,” said Daren. “Wasn’t there supposed to be some creatures covered with eyes and six wings or something?”
“John was deprived of food and water for several days before he was given his visions of the future,” explained Jesus. “Much of what he saw were most likely figments of his imagination. This is part of the reason we’re recording this over.”
“Uh, we were drinking before you came,” said Steve.
“Drinking what?” asked Jesus.
“Beer,” said Daren.
“Oh, dear,” said Jesus. “Well, it’s too late to turn back now. You should be fine.”
“That’s God, right?” asked Steve.
“Yes,” answered Jesus.
“Whoa,” said Daren and Steve in awe. I found it interesting how they were not awestruck at first, but rather when they were told of the figure’s identity.
“That scroll with seven seals appears to be of some importance,” I said, referring to the scroll in God’s hand. I figured that if the creator of the universe was holding on to it for some reason, then there had to be something important about it.
“Just watch and record,” said Jesus.
“Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?” said God. I had always expected the voice of God to be powerful and commanding. Instead, it was rather gentle and reassuring, if somewhat deep.
“Me?” said Daren in an exageratedly proud voice as he strut forward. Steve and I grabbed him by either shoulder.
“We have to take this seriously, dumbass,” I said, smacking him upside the head.
“Relax,” he said, “Jesus said we’re invisible anyway.”
“Jesus, weren’t you supposed to have the reincarnation of John with you?” asked God of his son.
“Oh, crap,” whispered Daren.
“That’s true, Father,” began Jesus, “but as I arrived at the place where I was to meet him, he had an accident and fell from a cliff. He was dead by the time I got there, so I decided that his friends here would do just as well since they possess the ability to write as well as any scribe.”
“Son, all mortals can do that these days,” said God. “You could have chosen more worthy and serious observers, but it’s too late now that we’ve already begun. These three will have to do.”
“I thought you had the power to make us undetectable,” whispered Daren as God turned his attention elsewhere.
“Where do you think I got that power from?” demanded Jesus.
Daren paused.
“Touché,” said Daren with a stupid look on his face.
We saw a man wearing a sheepskin enter heaven and kneel before God. He accepted the scroll and break open the first of the seven seals.
“That must be the guy who is worthy,” said Steve.
“You think?” I asked in an irritated voice.
A man riding a brown horse appeared. He wore tattered robes and his skin was bloated and covered with boils.
“Pestilence,” I said, recognizing the first horseman.
The man in sheepskin broke the second seal and a warrior riding a red horse appeared. The sword he carried was easily twice as long as he was tall.
“That’s a big sword,” said Steve.
“You know what they say about the guy with the big sword,” said Daren.
“Making up for something else,” said Steve.
“That’s War,” I said, ignoring the inane banter of the other two.
The sheepskin clad man broke open the third seal and a figure riding a white horse appeared. The horseman’s once fine garments hung off his withered frame. His eyes and cheeks were deeply sunken and his skin stretched tightly over his skeleton.
“Famine,” I said, nodding as I recorded.
The fourth seal was broken and a dark-robbed figure appeared riding a black horse. This horseman’s face was shadowed by the hood of his robe, but assumed from the skeletal hand clutching his scythe that beneath the hood was a skull.
“Death,” I whispered in admiration. This pseudo-mythological icon had been a favourite of mine for some time.
The man in sheepskin broke the fifth seal and in the pool of glass we saw what Jesus told us were the souls of all those who had been killed because they had proclaimed God’s word.
“Almighty God,” they shouted in unison, “how long will it be until you judge the people on earth and punish them for killing us?”
“‘When I’m damn good and ready’,” whispered Daren, sarcastically predicting what God was going to say.
“Wait a little while longer,” said God and the vision faded. I was shocked at how close Daren’s prediction had been.
The sixth seal was broken and the pool of glass revealed several major cities on earth. Violent earthquakes suddenly struck all the cities and the light of the sun faded in a solar eclipse.
God nodded to the four horsemen and the flew out of heaven, descending to earth.
I noticed the Eiffel tower in one of the cities in the glass and recognized it as the city of Paris. There were airplanes flying overhead and dropping paratroopers into the capital of France.
“Cool,” said Steve, “It’s like television without the commercials.”
“Who’s invading France?” I asked Jesus.
“Switzerland,” he answered.
“Switzerland?” the three of us simultaneously exclaimed in astonishment.
“War showed up and incited hysteria and rage amongst Switzerland’s population,” explained Jesus. “The invasion is all his doing.”
“He works pretty fast,” I observed.
“Time is flowing differently here,” said Jesus. “What seemed like mere moments to us was in actuality several years on earth. Like I told you before, all you will see shall only be the interesting and important things.”
We all paused as this new information sunk in.
“Shall we take a closer look?” asked Jesus.
“Why not?” I asked.
We wandered the streets of Paris, witnessing murder after murder of the population at the hands of the Swiss invaders.
“I see why War chose the Swiss,” I said. “Nobody ever expected them to do this.”
“War is good at what he does,” said Jesus. “He and the other horsemen are to eliminate one quarter of the world’s population. Those who are good people shall find their place in Heaven once this is over. Those who are not shall be damned to Hell.”
“So everybody is getting killed in wars?” asked Steve.
“Not all,” said Jesus. “Many are dying of disease and hunger.”
“That would be Pestilence’s and Famine’s doing, obviously,” I stated.
“And Death picks up the pieces?” asked Steve.
“He takes their souls to where they need to go,” said Jesus.
“That’s a pretty good system,” I said.
“Seems pretty gruesome to me,” said Daren.
“Life on earth was never meant to be pleasant or fair,” said Jesus, “but you make your life worthwhile by aiding your fellow man and repenting your sins, then in your afterlife you shall benefit where those who were greedy and sinful shall suffer.” It was nothing we hadn’t heard before.
We traveled throughout the countries and regions of earth. Nowhere was untouched by the scourge of the horsemen. War raged across the whole world as France’s allies aided her and the enemies of those allies rallied to the side of Switzerland. World War III had begun and the three of us had front row seats. War was better glamourized in the movies.
The atrocities that the people inflicted on each other bothered me less than the horrors I saw in the places ravaged by disease and famine. The people here suffered so much longer than those who were killed on the field of battle. All that other countries had to do was send them food and medicine in order to ease their suffering, but nobody would help because nobody cared. They figured that since these people were so far away that anything they would do wouldn’t matter. Even if it did, they still would not care to share out of their greediness and laziness. This bothered me more than the wars because I was one of those people who never cared about suffering on the other side of the world.
“It’s all right,” said Jesus, noticing my guilt. “It usually takes a first hand look at suffering to understand it and start to care enough to do something about it.”
“This is the Apocalypse,” I said, for the first time truly grasping the enormity of all that was occurring. “This is the end of the world.”
“These are the final days,” said Jesus. “It is time to return to Heaven, the seventh seal has been broken.”
We looked at the seven angels standing before God. They had been released when the seventh deal had been broken. Each held a silver trumpet.
The first angel stepped forward and blew his trumpet. Hail and Fire mixed with blood rained down from heaven and ignited the vegetation of earth.
“How much devastation is that?” I asked, scribbling on my parchment.
“One third of the trees and one third of the grass,” answered Jesus.
The second angel blew his trumpet and a mountain of fire was hurled from heaven and smashed into the sea.
“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Steve in awe.
Some of the sea appeared to turn into red liquid.
“Is that blood?” asked Daren.
“Yes,” replied Jesus. “That destroyed one third of the sea creatures and one third of the ships.”
The third angel blew his trumpet and a star fell from the sky, blanketing roughly one third of the streams and rivers.
“What did that accomplish?” asked Daren.
“The name of that star was ‘Bitterness’,” answered Jesus. “The water of those rivers and streams are now bitter and any who drink from them shall die.”
The fourth angel blew his trumpet and a piece of the sun and moon disappeared as well as many stars in the sky, dimming the light on earth.
“Let me guess,” said Steve, “A third of the sun, a third of the moon, and a third of the stars have been destroyed so that one third of the day shall be darkness and one third of the night shall be darkness.”
“I’m sensing a pattern here,” I muttered.
“You read that in Revelations,” said Jesus to Steve. “You are partly correct. John assumed that the world would be plunged into darkness of a third of the day and a third of the night, but he was incorrect. Another reason why we’re doing this over; to avoid assumptions.”
The fifth angel blew his trumpet and a meteor smashed into the earth, causing a deep chasm to open. Smoke began to billow out of it.
“That looks pretty deep,” said Steve.
“That is the Abyss,” said Jesus.
The smoke continued to flow until it covered the whole earth.
“Isn’t that what they said would happen in the movie, ‘Armageddon’,” asked Daren. “With the meteor and Bruce Willis trying to blow it up so it wouldn’t destroy earth.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “A nuclear winter.”
Hordes of locusts began to fall out of the smoke and land on earth. Instead of attacking what remained of the plant life, they attacked the people. Panic spread through the war-torn and disaster weary population of earth as the insects indiscriminately tortured all in their path.
“Do you think bug repellent would be of any use?” asked Steve.
“Shut up, Steve,” I said.
The sixth angel blew his trumpet after the last of the locusts mysteriously disappeared. An army of horsemen riding horse with lion heads and tails made of snakes rose out of a mighty river.
“What river is that?” asked Daren.
“The Euphrates,” answered Jesus.
“How many horsemen are there?” I asked, noticing their massive numbers.
“Two million,” answered Jesus again.
“That’s a lot,” I said.
We watched as the horrific cavalry rode among the people of earth, breathing fire, smoke, and sulfur upon them. Many more people died. I felt myself becoming more and more desensitized to the atrocities the more I saw.
“They seemed to have killed a lot of people,” I said, as we saw piles of corpses through the pool of glass.
“They have killed one third of the population,” said Jesus.
“What’s with the flashiness and different ways to kill people,” asked Steve. “If God is supposed to be merciful, then why doesn’t he just wipe everybody out instead of making them suffer?”
“He is offering those who survive these horrors another chance to repent all the sins that they have committed in their lives and join him in Heaven when they die,” answered Jesus.
The seventh angel blew his trumpet and the twenty-four elders around God declared that the time of judgment was upon us and the end of the world was near. There were flashes of lightning, peals of thunder, and heavy rain. An enourmous red dragon with seven heads and ten horns appeared in the sky and flew towards heaven, flanked by many angels.
“This is going to get ugly,” said Jesus. The three of us turned to him in amazement. “What?” he asked.
“Shouldn’t one of us have said that?” asked Daren. Jesus shrugged.
“That dragon,” I said, “is he who I think he is?”
“Yes,” said Jesus. “That is Satan.”
“We’re safe, right?” asked Daren. “Undetected and all.”
“Do not worry,” assured Jesus.
As Satan entered heaven he and his angels were immediately attacked by Heavens angels led by Michael. The battle was furious and deadly.
“This is the ultimate battle between good and evil,” whispered Steve, awestruck once again. “Of all the battles fought throughout history, none is more important than this one.”
The battle raged for seven days and seven nights until finally Michael was able to spot an opening, duck under Satan’s guard, and plant his sword deep into the dragon’s body. Satan howled in pain as Michael and his angels picked up his body and cast him out of Heaven to earth. All the angels who supported Satan were destroyed.
“I have a feeling this is going to make those lion-headed horses look pretty wimpy,” said Steve.
“I think you’re right,” I agreed.
The dragon, Satan, stood on the sea shore and spoke a word in some strange tongue. The sea began to bubble and froth as a beast arose from its depths. It, too, had seven heads and ten horns, each head wearing a crown. It had the body of a leopard, the feet of a bear, and the mouth of a lion.
“Did anybody else’s mom ever tell them that there’s no such thing as monsters?” asked Steve. “Or was it just mine?”
“Mine did, too,” I admitted. “It shows how much mothers know.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, noticing the dragon and the beast conversing.
“There is no force on earth capable of standing up to Satan,” explained Jesus, “so he has the power to give the beast authority over the whole world. All good people have now been killed, leaving Satan to rage in a world devoid of God’s followers. He will allow the beast to take over the world and torture those who remain there. All must worship the dragon and the beast and have the number ‘666’ tattooed on their hand or forehead. Those who do not are forbidden to buy or sell anything.”
“That’s quite the price to pay for possessing enough free will and stamina to survive all that has happened to the world,” I observed.
“Those who were of good heart trusted God to protect them,” said Jesus.
“He didn’t seem to do a very good job since they are all dead,” I said.
“Hey, Ed, relax,” said Steve. “I’m sure there’s a good explanation.”
“There is,” said Jesus. “They will live again, but be patient for now.”
We turned our attention back to Heaven and observed seven bowls before God’s throne. Seven angels appeared and each took a bowl.
“Go out and pour the seven bowls of God’s anger upon the earth!” declared a voice. The angels went forth with their bowls.
The first angel poured his bowl and those who had the mark of the beast (666) tattooed on them had painful, festering sores open up on their bodies.
“That has to sting,” said Steve, scribbling as fast as he could as the second angel prepared to pour his bowl.
The second angel poured his bowl into the sea.
“What exactly did that do?” I asked.
“It turned the water to poison,” answered Jesus. “All living things within the sea are now dead.”
The third angel poured out his bowl into the streams and rivers.
“Same as the sea?” I asked Jesus.
He nodded.
The fourth angel poured his bowl on the sun and its heat intensified. What few trees and blades of grass that remained were burned away. The population suffered from severe burns and many more lost their lives from the heat.
The heat disappeared as the fifth angel poured his bowl on the throne of the beast. The world was plunged into darkness. We could hear curses from the people remaining on earth all the way in heaven. They all cursed God for what had become of them. I couldn’t shake the feeling that that could have been me down there had John survived to take this mission on his own.
The sixth angel poured his bowl and all the rivers and oceans dried up.
“Earth’s pretty much a wasteland now,” I said, staring at the barren mass of rock through the pool of glass. “How can people still live there?”
“Because Satan wills it,” said Jesus. “Look. He is rallying all that have survived these plagues for one final battle at the place known as ‘Armageddon’.”
“Why did they call that movie with Bruce Willis ‘Armageddon’ if Armageddon is supposed to be a place?” asked Steve in a whisper.
“Because Hollywood is full of idiots,” I whispered back.
The seventh angel poured his bowl. Earthquakes and storms once again shook the world and all that man had created, all of civilization, was destroyed. The beast’s followers were scattered by the disasters, but regrouped as the beast shouted obscenities and insults to Heaven. He challenged those in heaven to face him.
“How stupid does this guy have to be?” I asked. “The being which gave him power was defeated by the forces of heaven. If Satan couldn’t have done it with angels, what makes this guy think he can do it with humans?”
“Pride is one of the seven deadly sins,” said Jesus. “Pride is what makes the beast believe he can defeat God. Pride is what will drag down all the sinners who follow him.”
The gates of Heaven opened and God himself rode out on a white stallion followed by the armies of Heaven. I wish I could say it was a glorious battle, but it was not by my definition. By my standards achieving glory in battle is overcoming difficult odds and threatening opponents. God smote the beast with one stroke and the armies of Heaven massacred the beast’s followers with almost as much ease.
“That’s not exactly how I pictured the Battle of Armageddon to turn out,” I said, somewhat disappointed. “I thought there’d at least be some tragedy for our side.”
“It’s not over yet,” said Jesus, pointing to the pool of glass.
We saw the dragon, Satan, charge the armies of heaven, full of desperate rage and hatred. I knew all too well how powerful that could be. His hatred had made him more powerful than he had been before. He tore through the armies, defeating all he came across until he stood before God.
“You, whose deception began as a serpent in the Garden of Eden!” thundered God, his voice now the commanding and intimidating voice that I had always expected as he pointed an accusing finger at the dragon. “You, whose lies and accusations have plagued mankind for your own purposes, to further your own place in the universe! You who has tried to usurp my throne and destroy all that I have laboured to create! You shall pay for your sins!”
“I shall destroy you and take my rightful place as ruler!” screeched the dragon as he lunged forward. I expected God to strike down Satan as easily as he had destroyed the beast, but Satan was now powerful in his desperation and God appeared to almost be overpowered by Satan’s strength.
“Uh, Jesus,” asked Daren. “God is going to win isn’t he?”
“I hope so,” said Jesus.
“That wasn’t very reassuring,” said Daren.
The battle between the embodiment of good and the embodiment of evil raged across the barren landscape as God and Satan both fought for the upper hand.
“They say to be careful what you wish for,” I muttered.
“What are you talking about?” asked Daren.
“When I found out that we were going to witness the Battle of Armageddon,” I began, “I got excited because it is supposed to be the most epic battle ever. It ended rather abruptly with no casualties on Heaven’s side at all. I failed to see in glory in shooting the proverbial fish in a barrel. Then Satan decided to show up and now we have a glorious battle, but it doesn’t really look that good for us.”
“Isn’t that what makes it glorious in your mind?” asked Jesus. “You expected the epic battle to be between the armies when it is in actuality between the two forces that have been opposed to each other since Father created time.”
“Ok,” I said, unaware of what exactly to say.
“Just continue recording,” said Jesus.
The three of us scribbled furiously on our parchment, trying to keep up with every thrust, every parry. Eventually, God slipped in the uneven ground created by the earthquakes and Satan stood over him, ready to strike to finish him off, but savouring his moment of triumph.
“I have won!” he declared, his seven heads speaking in unison.
As Satan’s seven heads all moved to snap their jaws on God at once, God thrust himself downward, underneath Satan and thrust his sword up into the dragon’s gut as Satan’s teeth snapped at empty air. The dragon’s howls of rage and pain were deafening at first, but they quickly weakened as Satan died.
God opened the gate to the Abyss again and it revealed a lake of fire. God tossed Satan’s body into it and declared that there is would remain for an eternity with those who had turned their backs on God.
God declared that the day of Judgment was at hand. All who had ever died throughout history were resurrected and brought before God to be judged. His methods were quite simple for determining who would be among the chosen. Those who repented their sins in life or had led lives of goodness would live on forever in Heaven. Those who were judged unworthy were cast into the lake of fire. It was the duty of Steve, Daren, and myself, Ed, to record the names of all those chosen and all those not. The writer’s cramp was terrible.
After all the chosen had been separated from those who were not, God brought Heaven down to earth. Standing at the gates, Jesus told that our job was done and stopped writing.
“I can’t help but notice, Jesus, that none of us three were brought before God,” I said, thankful to have the task completed, but wondering as to what exactly my fate was to be.
“Well, it’s quite simple,” said Jesus. “I had told you that your lives are you knew them were over; but only as you knew them. You are still alive and are actually the only three mortals still living their first life.”
“Well, isn’t that a nice piece of trivia,” I muttered.
“The second life lasts forever, right?” asked Steve.
“Yes,” said Jesus. “Daren, you have repented your sins repeatedly throughout your life and are therefore welcome Heaven.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Daren.
“As you walk through the gates, you shall be born into your second, eternal life,” said Jesus. Daren entered Heaven and stood on the other side, watching and waiting.
“Uh, we’re still alive right?” asked Steve.
“Yes,” answered Jesus.
“So technically, I can repent my sins now and enter heaven, right,” asked Steve.
“Yes, you can,” answered Jesus.
“Then I repent,” said Steve. Jesus ushered Steve into Heaven.
“And how about you, Ed?” asked Jesus. “You are the very last person left; the only one who it is not too late for. What are you going to do?”
I pondered. My own pride had stood in the way of me becoming affiliated with religion for all of my teenage life. I truly did believe that Jesus had died on the cross for our sins and that all I had to do was repent my sins to Jesus to get into Heaven, but in my own pride I refused every time I was confronted by religious fanatics.
But now I stood face to face with the very man who gave his life and paid for the sins of all mankind so that so many could live forever in Heaven.
“Well,” I began, “I figure those two idiot guitarists are going to need a drummer and I’ll be damned before I get replaced.”
I paused, realizing just how true that was.
Jesus waited, expectantly.
“I guess what I’m saying,” I continued, “is that I know I’ve sinned and I ask for forgiveness; I repent.”
“You are forgiven,” said Jesus as we entered the gates of Heaven.