“I just don’t understand.” Alan lamented. “Tomorrow is the big day, yet we are powerless to stop The Beast. Would the Lord really have brought us all this way, only to leave us at the very end?”
Alan, Miriam, and I were sitting under the shade of an olive tree, within one of the many interior courtyards of Bates’ palace – despite the earthquake that had occurred here in Baghdad after the death of Elijah and Enoch, amazingly (rather conveniently) Bates’ stronghold was still in good condition – and ever since our capture at Whitby Abbey this locale had served as our prison.
There was no longer any question in my mind about who was The Beast – it was Bill Bates’ Ghaz al-Ridwan Ma’bus. As for Pope Benedict, given his involvement in our recent rather unfortunate events, it seemed we had no choice but to conclude that he was The Second Helper.
The Two Beasts
As you can imagine, this was not a happy time for us.
And yet there was nothing we could do but wait for our fate to unfold.
And while we knew that masked guards watched our every move, on the whole we’d been left to ourselves – thankfully Bates didn’t make us wear those silly face masks against the made-up virus and he let us venture most anywhere we pleased within our section of the palace and our every needs were met.
We simply could not leave.
On most days, we usually ended up in this little garden, debating our fate – there wasn’t much else to do and the garden was lush and beautiful. That said, none of us could truly take solace in these confines, as the beauty of the place only made Bates’ fast approaching victory all the more wretched.
For we three knew that when The Beast rose to power at last, all that was good and beautiful in this world would vanish forever.
Paradise Lost
“The Lord helps those who help themselves, Laz.” Miriam replied, her next words cutting like a knife into my heart. “In the end, it was WE who failed – not Him. Had we just been patient and stuck to His plan, everything would have worked out. It’s just like Gabriel always told me – we were given a choice. Unfortunately we made the wrong decision. As a result, Bates not only has all three of our Nails, but he also now possesses myBook of Life, and John’s sacred scrolls.”
“We’ll see.” I muttered, my anger having returned in the last few weeks – especially after Bates robbed me of the priceless Scroll of the Illuminated Angels – one of the keys he would eventually need to complete his Armageddon Rite. “Damn shame if you ask me. What a waste.”
“But is that really it?” Alan asked again. “Are we just going to give up and accept fate? Are we done fighting?”
No Mas
“Our Moment of Truth has passed.” Miriam replied. “We failed in our mission. If the world is to be saved, it will not be from our actions.”
“She’s correct.” I agreed, feeling small in my faith. “All we three can do now is wait it out. We’ve been reduced to mere bystanders. If there is still anyone left to help, the task of saving the world will become their job now.”
“But who could it be?” Alan wondered. “Is there anyone left who has the power to oppose The B—“
He was interrupted by some activity off to our right – the guards parted to allow one of the interior gates to open, but just then the haze of the sun’s rays beamed suddenly brighter, obscuring the doorway…
The next day, unable to resist, I turned on the TV again…
Only to learn that the actions of the “White Warrior” were being attributed to the man calling Ghaz al-Ridwan Ma’bus – that meant the world was hailing none other than Bill Bates as the Savior!
Unable to look away, I saw multiple broadcasts that showed the mutilated bodies of the Two Witnesses strung up on gallows outside Bates’ new palace complex in Baghdad – the streets filled with people of all nationalities rejoicing at their death – things were so crazy that the people even dared to congregate without masks!
“Fools!” I cursed. “Do you actually believe your punishment is over just because The Witnesses are not here? Pah, the world must pay the consequences for its sins!”
Obviously no one cared for my words – instead the crowds only grew with each newscast I saw. Always did the people call for their beloved Dr. Ma’bus to appear and lead them in a celebration; yet he was nowhere to be found – the official story being that he was deep in prayer, asking God to purify him after being used as the instrument of divine retribution.
“Ha, I’ll bet he’s already gone.”
My desire for news sated, and now certain that I was not going to miss anything, I turned off the set and went back to reading my Bible…
A couple days later, around mid afternoon, I believe I might have been one of the few people in the world who was not surprised by what happened next.
I turned on the TV, suffering through more propaganda about how great Dr. Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus was.
World leaders were voluntarily giving up their command (at the demand of their own citizens!) and asking to become a part of Bates’ Union of Many Allied Nations; multiple reports even talked about that Russia, China, and even the US were also joining UMAN — with Presidents Xi and Putin being ‘elevated’ to serve as Dr. Ma’bus’ World Commanders – one for each hemisphere. (I wonder what Bates and the Great Reset gang promised them to get them to go along?)
On top of all this Pope Francis appeared on air and he too hailed Dr. Ma’bus as The One True World Leader — going to far as to recommend that all nations join UMAN in order to restore order to a world in upheaval.
And then, suddenly, it happened.
Right in the middle of a speech from Rabbi Metzger, the broadcast was interrupted, and after a bit of herky-jerkiness, the camera focused once more upon the bodies of the Two Witnesses.
Naked and horribly mutilated, each was nothing more than bags of broken bones, caked over with dried blood, other bodily juices, and various refuse that had been heaped upon them.
Their faces were bloated and bruised.
Their eyes still those lifeless, hollow holes.
Yet, I knew that this was NOT going to be the final destiny of Elijah and Enoch.
And then, even as I watched, I saw <Life> suddenly breathed into the two prophets!
First, their chests expanded, and with a great <WHOOSH> they gasped forth the terrible miasma of Death that had held grip over them these past three and a half days. The onlookers in attendance — who had just been celebrating the prophets demise now received a bit of divine retribution — for a horrible boiling disease began to burn them alive!
Chaos was the scene now as crowds rushed to escape its fate. Yet in spite of their tragedy, my eyes (and the camera) were locked on the prophets.
I watched in wonder as their bodies were first shrouded by a mysterious light. Moments later, I saw Elijah and Enoch as they once were – with their bodies restored, they seemed to float in the air, held by a divine hand.
Elijah and Enoch
After a last glance to the world below, both peered upwards, ever upwards. And, as if in response to their unspoken request, the Heavens opened above them and the two prophets rose.
Their ascension was excruciatingly slow as Time seemed to be at a standstill, and in the end, after the clouds moved back into place, I braced myself for what was to come.
Yet even I was not prepared for the terrible <BLASTS> of the angelic trumpets that bellowed forth! Again and again and again — no less than six full trumpet blasts rang out all over the world!
Divine Retribution is coming!
Meanwhile, at the conclusion of the prophets’ ascent, the onsite camera appeared to burst into flames — leaving the broadcast on my TV suddenly black; however I didn’t need to wait until future news reports told me what I already knew…
A divine earthquake had just occurred.
Seven Thousand were dead.
Bates’ palace had just been leveled (even though I knew he was already gone).
For whatever reason, I got the urge to flip on the tube again (well, like I said, I was addicted).
Oh, I knew there was no chance of a baseball game – for all sporting events had long been cancelled. Furthermore, I had heard that most cable stations were now defunct as well – after all, people no longer had time for watching The Travel Channel or QVC – instead only a few national networks were left, and those were now solely devoted to delivering news and propaganda public service announcements related to Covid Health Safety requirements, the need for more Climate lockdowns, and the importance for everyone to spend their monthly UBI credits before they expired.
Locked down at home again and now without television shows as their opiate, people were just trying to survive to the next catastrophe.
Everybody knew it was coming, they just didn’t know what ‘IT’ would be or when it would occur.
(Would you be surprised to learn that churches the world over were filled with suddenly devout believers? Of course all the services were ONLINE since live worship had long since been banned back in 2022 for pandemic safety purposes).
In any case, there I sat, on my recliner (WITHOUT a drink, mind you), and with the TV remote gripped nervously in my hands.
<CLICK>
“….refugees moving from China into India,” said an announcer, as the TV panned over a limitless line of forsaken wanderers in dirty masks moving along a dusty road, “There is nowhere for them to—“
<CLICK>
“…join the National Relief Effort,” pleaded a young lady in full hazmat gear on a public service commercial, “come to Nevada, help us make—“
<CLICK>
“…Help is on the way. So remember, if you are—“
<CLICK>
“Ah, it’s meaningless!” I turned the TV off again. Yet, even as I was about to get up and go back to bed, something pulled me back.
<CLICK> <CLICK>
I turned to Channel 13 – thankfully it was still on the air. Once again I saw nothing more than an ordinary newscast – talking about still more destruction. For nearly thirty minutes I watched, appalled at the devastation.
“Why, Lord?” I began to cry. “Where is the Good Shepherd?”
And then, even as the signal blurred on my TV, I realized what was coming — The Two Witnesses.
Once more I watched Elijah and Enoch as they languished in their dank cell.
By now they were even more disgusting looking than the last time I saw them, but as they lay there in apparent sleep, I was certain that an awful new prophecy was about to come forth.
Time dragged by in the moments that preceded their resurrection.
And then, suddenly Enoch opened his empty eye sockets and began to groan as he raised himself upright, slobber running from his toothless maw, “We are the Olive Trees.”
His words seemed to revive Elijah and, as if on cue, he thrust out his hands, “The Two Lampstands – giving the only true light to the world.”
“The Prisoners Of Chillon” By Ferdinand Victor Eugene Delacroix
“Today is the day.” Enoch smiled.
“It has been 1,260 days since we returned.” Elijah confirmed.
I knew what was about to happen.
“Revelation 11.” I gasped at the implications. “ He’s going to murder them. And worse yet, he’ll be a hero for it!”
The scene on the TV couldn’t have unfolded any more scripted than if I had been the director: for at that moment the camera panned over to the prison door.
Silently the portal opened and in walked a lone man. Clothed all in white and armed with a scimitar – the curved blade polished to a blinding brightness– the man’s face was shrouded by a heavy turban, one which covered his entire face, and even though his eyes looked familiar, I could not make out for certain who he was.
(Benedict? Bates? Marrollo? I just didn’t know. Yet one thing I was sure about – this was The Beast!)
The prophets must have sensed the presence of the intruder as well. And, surely they must have known what was about to happen, for I watched as Enoch raised his arms protectively…
…only to be viciously cut down!
For his part, Elijah did not resist, instead he simply lay back down, smiled, and waited to be destroyed.
The Beast kindly obliged — splattering Elijah’s blood across the walls.
For this was a holy war and, although I knew that the world over was likely rejoicing at the pseudo-deliverance just provided by this mystery man, in reality, I retched at the sight.
Don’t you realize what this means?
Satan’s Son had taken one step closer to Victory!
<CLICK>
I couldn’t bear to watch any more. For I realized something else…
What’s going on with my friends, or with Pope Benedict, Bill Bates, or any of the other host of lackeys who used to haunt my visions?
Good question.
It had been months since I last ‘saw’ any of them, yet without my Sight, I was reduced to a commoner like you for my news – that meant I either had to watch #FakeNews on the few stations my OTA antenna picked up or I had to setup the Roku again and tune into Newsmax for the truth. Since I didn’t want to notify any of the 5G sensors in my area with the Roku’s pull on the internet, I chose to sift through the fake news channels to start.
Look, I realize that I haven’t done a very good job of keeping you apprised of world events. In my defense, the happenings of history do tend to move in repetitious cycles and after 2,000 years it all runs together.
But even I knew that times were different now – and I believe that the rest of the world was finally starting to believe that too.
Oh sure, throughout my life I’ve seen the charlatans like Homer who’ve proclaimed ‘the end of the world is at hand,’ and like you, I’ve pooh-poohed them – after all, most of them were crackpots.
I too have heard the many learned men throughout the centuries who have tried to reason out the end of days by associating whatever world catastrophe with my predictions in Revelation, or perhaps that kook Nostradamus, or the Mayan Cataclysm, or something else – again, fools all.
But, there was something different going on this time and it was just the never-ending Covid plandemic!
To begin with, I knew that the Two Witnesses had already been prophesying for over three years, and if what I wrote in Revelation was correct, then I knew that they didn’t have much time left (whether the world had been listening or not).
And while The Beast may have had Elijah and Enoch hidden from view for the last couple years, when it came time to serve his own purposes, he revealed them to all – causing the world to finally understand the word FEAR.
Since then, national broadcasts and social media videos of the prophets had become an obsession – with everybody and their brother giving their opinion of what it all meant.
Add to that that on two more occasions, the prophets appeared ‘live’ and released new warnings of impending doom – both of which came true. You can imagine the hysteria that surrounded them.
I tried to look at things from the world’s perspective — how would the common man view Elijah and Enoch?
With fear and hatred.
Yes, I was certain of that – for consider that regardless of whether the Two Witnesses were merely doing their divine duty (which they were!), the fact of the matter is that they were (unfortunately) correct about everything they predicted, even this…
Ouch!
As a result, all of the terrible misfortune that the world had experienced these last few years (and especially these last few months), why all of it was associated with Elijah and Enoch!
It was only natural that the world wished them dead.
Unfortunately for The Prophets, today the world got its wish…
A couple nights later I had my sleep interrupted again – this time with another vision of The Two Witnesses as the word became flesh before my eyes…
<Drip… drip… drip…>
<Drip… drip… drip…>
<Drip… drip… drip…>
I watched as a frustrated Enoch, despite his blindness, arose from the prison floor and tried to ferret out the source of the annoying drip. After a time, he did successfully locate the trickle, but unfortunately the crack in the cell’s ceiling was simply too high for him to do anything about.
<Drip… drip… drip…>
Ice cold rivulets splashed into Enoch’s maw – smelling of raw sewage they were far from refreshing. And so, backing away dejectedly, he slumped back down onto the pile of filthy straw that was his bedding and did the only thing he could – endure.
As for Elijah, he might as well have been a dead log. During this brief respite from their visions, I was certain that sleep, if the prophets’ could grasp it, was a welcome relief. (Even though my own was currently being interrupted!)
Turning my attention back to Enoch, I wondered if he ever remembered that he was once a man of renown – and if so, would that knowledge cause him to curse his present condition? For the fact that he formerly enjoyed the favor of God but was now subject to a fate worse than Job seemed like a pretty raw deal to me. (After all, this was something I could definitely relate to). Or was Enoch foolish enough to believe he was going to be rewarded for this ‘righteous’ suffering?
<Drip… drip… drip…>
“Will this never end?” Enoch muttered, head hanging in misery. “Where is our savior?”
(Well I guess that answers my question).
Suddenly my vision shifted – torn from the prophets’ cell, I was again looking upon the man calling himself Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus. He was in his private quarters and again watching a webcam of the prophets, but this time he was not alone.
“Don’t worry, my friend, I’ll save you.” An unmasked Ma’bus replied to Enoch’s question, even though the prophet never heard him.
“What does he mean?” Mystery said. Not only was the woman not wearing any Covid personal protection, but she was wearing little else – climbing off the bed she clasped a wisp of silk around heras she came up behind her lover to look at his computer. “What will never end? The virus? The world? His revelations?”
“Who cares? He’s clearly not having a true vision, so it doesn’t matter.”
“How do you know he is not prophesying?” Mystery wrapped her arms seductively around the technocrat’s shoulders.
“Look at Elijah — he’s out.” Dr. Mab’us casually brushed off Mystery’s advances. “The Two Witnesses never reveal wisdom unless they both speak. So perhaps Enoch’s just complaining about the food?”
Mystery ignored her lover’s rebuff and chuckled along at his last comment before growing serious, “Benedict suspects something about all this, you know.”
“So?” The computer whiz turned dictator continued to stare at his webcam, allowing his mind to think of ways to improve the tech in the device.
“So, he never got around to asking about the prophets, nor how Alan escaped — but only because I got out of there before he could dig too deep.”
“He knows about all of it by now.”
“How? Did you tell him? Did he—“
Bates raised a hand, “Don’t forget the kind of power we’re dealing with. Joseph Ratzinger is no ordinary man. He is one of the Chosen.”
(A Chosen — Joe? Again, I’m as confused as you are).
And closing his computer screen, Dr. Ma’bus turned to look at Mystery, ignoring the temptation of her seductive body, “Benedict already knows that I have the witnesses. And as for Lazarus, surely Benedict knows that Mary came to my lair to rescue him… and that I let Mary succeed.” (Whoa, what’s that?)
“But he wasn’t happy to learn that you kept Alan’s Nail.”
“Of course not. He wants The Nails for himself – and he’ll stop at nothing to get them. I’m sure he’s already planning to influence Mary and John to bring him the other two.” (Hey, don’t bring ME into it!)
“But he won’t succeed.” Mystery smiled. “Alan’s nearly dead because of what Dr. Flipflop and you did to him to him with The Chair of Woe, and John is out of the game permanently.”
“On the contrary. Lazarus will be fine. John will repent. And Benedict will eventually get his hands on all three of The Nails.” (La, la, la, I can’t hear you!)
“What?” Mystery gasped – apparently wondering if she’d chosen the right side.
Bates seemed to know what she was thinking, “Dost thou have so little faith in me?”And before Mystery could stutter a response, he explained, “This is all part of MY plan, dear – just like with Covid. As for Lazarus, you know I only wanted to toy with him in The Chair — you know he is needed for something far more important… later. I knew that Mary would come to rescue him once she was informed by Gabriel. So by torturing Lazarus, I forced Mary to take him to the one person on earth who could cure him of the wounds I inflicted.”
“The Apostle John.” Mystery nodded.
(No, this is not happening! Please don’t let me just be a pawn. Don’t let all of my actions be predetermined! Quick, what am I thinking right now? What am I going to do next? See, YOU don’t know, right? And neither do I. So how can they?)
“Correct.” Dr. Ma’bus replied. “Mary had to take Lazarus to John. Given his resentment against Jesus, I’m sure John resisted getting involved, but I expect that Mary was quite convincing.”
Mystery smiled knowingly at that comment.
“Oh, not in the way that you are thinking.” Ma’bus explained, pulling Mystery over to lap and ripping away her coverlet. “John’s too old to care about this sort of thing.”(Hey, you’re wrong there). “And I’ve always wondered if he liked women anyway – after all his own gospel says that he is the apostle that Jesus loved. Ha!” (Now that’s a low blow. I’m not gay – not that there’s anything wrong with it — that lifestyle just doesn’t appeal to me). “And Mary doesn’t have your… talents. But the bottom line is that she has learned how to control minds – remember the havoc she caused here – my people are still suffering from her rampage. And I don’t doubt she would use that power on John too.”
(Wrong again — I did not agree to help because I was influe– Wait a second, DID Mary use her Psychic Probe on me?)
“But, even if John cures Alan,” Mystery asked, still sitting in the nerd’s lap, “how do you know they will go to Benedict? And why in Hell would they give him their Nails?”
“My dear, let’s not forget WHY these Nails exist in the first place.”
Mystery hesitated, “Er… ah… to destroy… you.”
“Don’t be afraid to say it, love. After all, what you said IS the truth.” And here the flaccid man pushed Mystery off as he rose up and took on a pompous air, “These are the very nails by which Jesus of Nazareth was gloriously crucified nearly two thousand years ago. The holy spikes that pierced his flesh and sent him to the grave. Why, the beat-up iron still retains his blood! Enemy or not, I understand the power these instruments contain — they will be the glorious tools by which I complete the Armageddon Rite and thus stop the Nazarene’s Second Coming once and for all. Indeed, December 21st will mark the official beginning to my own reign upon this world!”
Although Mystery smiled back, it was clear she was still unsure.
“I sense your uncertainty. Care to see what the Nails can do?”
Mystery took a step back, grasping for her coverlet again, “Here? Now? No. I’m confident in what I already know about them from my father, and in what you’ve told me.”
“Ah, but I don’t think you are.” The dictator reached out and grabbed her by the hair! (Damn, this girl’s been taking a beating lately, huh?)
“Ghaz, no!” Mystery shrieked, unable to break his iron grip.
Spinning her around, the man slammed her into a chair and ripped her silk away again, “Don’t move!” As he spoke, his eyes rolled back – showing nothing but the whites – and his voice became rich with an ancient <power>. “Now you’ll get a taste of what I possess.”
Although Dr. Ma’bus’ demonic persona quickly receded, Mystery remained trapped in place, whilst the man tapped his watch to activate its communication feature, “Oh Jamir, be a good sport and bring me The Nail of Lazarus.”
A couple hours passed, yet nothing changed for me. I was still sitting on my couch, only now I was getting ready to watch my Phillies play.
How could I watch baseball at a time like this?
Hey, if the end of the world really was coming, then I wanted to be like my friend Frankie and enjoy myself for as long as I could. After all, God destroys both the blameless and the wicked so why should I struggle in vain?
“Thanks for staying with us.” Phillies Broadcaster Tom McCarthy said from my new TV – a gift from a local charity. “We have a doozy. 5 to 2, Giants lead in the bottom of the seventh. Bases loaded, two outs, and Carlos Santana is coming up to the plate. What’s your take, John?”
“The Giants had to change their pitcher. Bumgarner was on the verge of falling apart. Let’s see what Miller can do with the mess he just inherited.” McCarthy’s partner John Kruk (one of my all-time favorite players) jumped in with his color analysis. As usual both men were doing their broadcasting virtually since in-person announcing of sporting events had long been outlawed as being (a health hazard, racist, anti-climate, or take your pick of any other number of Woke excuses).
“And…here’s the pitch from Miller… Strike one!”
I sank deeper into my Laz-E-Boy – with my Phillies losing, the game was not to my liking — naturally I blamed the broadcasters. Oh sure, McCarthy and Krukie were good, but for my money I still prefer Harry Kalas and Richie Ashburn.
Ashburn & Kalas were the perfect pair
Nonetheless, I couldn’t curse like I wanted to because over on the sofa sat one of my “friends”– Craig Wozniak. Craig was a 22-year old snot-nosed student at Lycoming College; apparently visiting me was somehow part of his internship. Like other college students of his day, he’d been brainwashed throughout his schooling with all the socialist propaganda of the times – that meant Craig totally believed in the evils of Capitalism, the dangers of Climate Change, the infallibility of Dr. Flipflop’s never-ending pandemic fear-mongering, the rightness of Wokeness and Cancel-culture, the benefits of UBI and never-ending stimulus checks without working, and similar UN Agenda 2030 garbage. Despite being a Caucasian, Craig wore a t-shirt that read “I’m sorry” – a common rag worn by the white kids of the day who’d been hammered into apologizing for their White Privilege disease – although he’d learned better than to talk to me about the why I should be supporting BLM and Antifa causes, because I’d kick him out of my house multiple times in the past for trying to peddle anything related to that garbage in the past.
Of course it goes without saying that Craig had been vaxxed and chipped early on in the Covid-era and he was completely bought-in to the importance of keeping his social credit standing as high as possible so he could keep spending with his Identichip.
Craig was also outfitted with more personal protection equipment than a surgeon facing an Ebola outbreak – he wore medical scrubs, gloves, booties, a Nano Mask and a face shield. Talk about overkill – we didn’t even treat the lepers from Christ’s time with such precaution and leprosy was a hell of a lot more dangerous (read: REAL) than Covid ever was. But such was the power of #FakeNews and #FlipflopLies at the time – they had the public scared to death of ‘double-mutant variants’ of their made-up virus, and the college kids like Craig were the most psychotic of all about the Covid Religion.
You might be wondering why I even allowed Craig into my house?
I’d asked myself that in the past too. The answer I came up with is because I felt sorry for him – like most of the youth of his day he never had a chance to create his own beliefs – Big Brother happily did that for him.
Then again, I didn’t have much choice either – I could never quite recall how I got roped in to the college’s Elderly Outreach Program, but whenever I tried to talk to someone about removing my name from their lists, I was gently reminded that all citizens were required to build their social credit. Since mine were always dangerously low, unless I wanted to have to undergo more ‘re-education’ about living in a ‘sustainable society’, I had to give up my demands for privacy and thus occasionally allow do-gooders like Craig the opportunity to come by.
On his last visit, Craig found out that my old TV was kaput — he didn’t ever learn the real story behind what happened, but even still I think he was surprised to see the TV kick the bucket before I did!
More importantly, on his visit today he brought me a new 42” HDTV from the college’s charity and even set it up for me. (I guess these new Gen Z kids are good for something after all, neh? Although I made a mental note to myself to take the thing apart and remove the 5G tracker that was sure to be inside).
“So what do you think about your new monitor, Mr. John?” Craig admired the gift. “Want me to show you how to use the remote?”
I merely grunted.
Craig used his gloved hand to wave at the device again. “Look here, sir – now you don’t have to get up to change the channel any more. Now all you have to do is click, like this.”
“Don’t change that dial, boy!”
“Oh, sorry. So, do you think our Phillies will pull it out, Mr. John?”
“Don’t know.”
“Who’s your favorite player?”
“The one batting now.”
“You like Santana too?” Craig smiled – although I couldn’t see it because of his mask – yet I could tell he thought he was finally making a connection with me. “Yeah, he’s always been mine t–“
“No.” I interrupted. “I like WHOEVER is at bat for the Phillies because that means we still have a chance to win.”
“Oh. I see.” Craig lowered his head and tried to peek at his watch without me seeing. I knew he was pained with boredom, but then again so was I!
“Swung on…it’s a high fly ball… the Phillies might take the lead right here!” McCarthy shouted from the TV. “Back…back…BA—“
<BUZZ! BRRR!> The screen was mess of blurry lines.
“NOOOOO!” I shook my fist at the interruption.
“What’s going on?” Craig wondered as the TV refocused and we looked upon a new scene – The Phillies game replaced with a view from above a dark cave within which two men were laying in squalid conditions.
The Two Witnesses
“Gol’darnit, not another special broadcast.” (At the moment, I was so upset I didn’t really notice what was being shown).
“I don’t know, John. It looks like too strange for a news report. Those guys look like prisoners in some crazy medieval dungeon – it’s creepy.”
Looking again at the TV, I recognized the Two Witnesses and realized they were about to deliver a new prophecy – yet this only annoyed me all the more because it surely meant I’d miss more of my game.
Unfortunately there was nothing I could do but sit and watch like the rest of the schmucks around the world.
The prophets’ cell looked cold and brutal, with dirty hay strewn about the floor, and a hole in the corner for their toilet. Still dressed in those filthy burlap rags, Elijah and Enoch now had sores which blanketed their bodies. Heavy wrinkles notched their unshaven faces, and their oily hair stuck in ratted mats to their heads.
Yet it was their eyes – or rather their empty sockets — that captured your attention and made it impossible to look away. Even I was taken aback – for the more I stared, the more I felt myself being pulled into the black caverns in their faces, as if they were the passage to a forsaken afterlife.
It gave me a case of the Jimmies and sent Craig into a panic attack.
“Are they… dead?” Craig managed to eke out because gasps through his mask.
“How should I know?” I lied to brush him off.
Suddenly I saw Enoch rise up — swaying on his feet, he gurgled a bit before proclaiming, “Sixth Seals we had spoken of, yet another is to come.”
The second man now sat up, “And it too shall be broken.”
Just like that, both fell back to the ground in apparent exhaustion.
Craig fell back in the sofa, “What do you make of that, Mr. John?”
I didn’t reply — for I knew there was more to come. Peering through tightened eyelids, I grew angrier by the second…waiting for the inevitable.
“Their robes will be washed white with the blood of The Lamb.”
“ARRRG!” Both prophets cried in unison, covering their ears in a futile effort to ward off the BOOMING of great trumpets – blasts which not only pummeled them, but us as well. The rush of sound so loud I wouldn’t doubt if the world over shook from the thunder!
“DISASTER!” Enoch wailed.
“WOE!” Shouted Elijah.
“The Seventh Seal…” I whispered, as the seers cried it to the world.
Again the trumpets, louder than before – and I felt as if the foundation of the world shook.
The TV went dead even as Craig and I tried to steady ourselves.
“WHOA! What was that?” Craig screamed. “I’m sorry, Mr. John, but I gotta get out of here! I’ve gotta see if my family is OK!”
And I watched as he raced out – not giving a second thought to the elderly man he was supposed to be caring for.
In reality, I didn’t care that Craig had deserted me, instead I merely glowered in my chair, incensed with anger.
“Oh, God, what have I done that You oppress me like this? Why do you always spurn the work of my hands? Please kill me now and get it over with.”
“Can they resist?” Enoch raised his hands, as if to ward off a blow.
“No one can resist The Third Seal!” Elijah fell back, unconscious.
(Actually that’s true – The Third Seal is a bitch – see for yourself…)
At this point my sight of the Two Witnesses ended and I was returned again back to my revelation about Alan and his ordeal with The Beast – would his identity finally be revealed?
My vision of Benedict and his conspirators continued. After the professor’s revelation about The Seven Seals, all three of them turned inward — examining their thoughts.
Antonio Abbracciavento seemed to realize that the subject that he had devoted his life to was unfolding before his very eyes – although now it appeared he didn’t have the stomach for it.
Meanwhile Teri seemed to be relishing every moment. And as for Benedict, well it was obvious that he still had a major part to play before he could finally retire to that much desired rest, (but I couldn’t help thinking of the proverb: He who digs a hole, falls into his own pit).
Eventually Antonio spoke further about the terrible implications of the Seven Seals (And for the most part, he explained my work quite well). Yet, it was all he could do to hold himself together and he noticeably shook during his monologue.
For his part Benedict listened stoically, detaching himself from the grim horrors that the professor described. Once Antonio finished, The Pope added his thoughts, “Dreadful? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. After all, we must remember — the sheep were made to be shorn. It is their role in The Great Play.”
“All things work together for The Good.” Antonio patted his daughter’s hand as if to console her, yet I knew he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
“You are not responsible for this, Antonio.” Benedict advised. “Just because you have the foreknowledge of the crime doesn’t make you guilty of it.” The oldster was about to reply, but got tongue-tied instead and the Pope sensed his fear, “Sharing what you know with the world will NOT stop the events from happening. Do not even think of such a foolish act.”
Teri looked at her father in horror. “Papa! You were not contemplating this were you?”
Again, Antonio stuttered – further convicting himself.
(Fool. Don’t you realize that God has a plan and things will happen in His time and His time alone.
We are all just the pawns of prophecy – whether we act or not.
That’s why I don’t care anymore – after all, it doesn’t matter what Antonio, me, or any of us do — He already knows how it will all turn out!)
“Get control of yourself, Abbracciavento.” The Pope grated. “You’d be a fool to reveal such knowledge to the world. No one would believe you. More importantly, The Wheel of Time WILL turn and December 21st will arrive regardless of what you do.”
“Father will do no such thing.” Teri quickly changed the subject. “And speaking of December 21st, wouldn’t you like to hear about Mr. Bates?”
“The rascal is proving to be quite a genius, eh?” Pope Benedict said.
“Indeed. He is becoming a power by literally buying the world.”
“Everybody wants the Identichip, eh?”
“Did you know many nations have stopped accepting trade unless they are paid in E-Yuans through the Identichip? Nobody has confidence in the financial backing of ANY country – except the Bates Foundation blockchain system administered from the World Economic Forum. That’s why people are so desperate to be implanted with an IdentiChip and why UN is recommending it. Even Putin is on board – although I’m sure there’s a back door deal or two in play.”
“So, Mr. Bates has the world by the balls and now the UN wants to sell our souls back to him?” Benedict summarized. “And yet I say — what the wicked dread will overtake them. Yet so be it, friends – for let’s not lose sight of the prize.”
“The Triumph of Christ” by Gustave Dore
Your Grace, what will happen now?” Antonio asked.
“I would bet The Brotherhood is going to have Ban Ki-Moon removed – soon.” The pope was quick to reply.
“Assassination of The UN Secretary General?” Antonio gasped.
“Father, don’t interrupt.” Teri hushed him.
“That would be the next logical move.” The Pope explained, making the motion to wash his hands of the matter. “And there’s not much we can do to stop it – as I said, the Wheel of Time will move forward of its own accord. Once Ki-Moon is out of the way, the picture becomes much clearer for our adversary.”
“Bill Bates will be elevated to power – just in time for the Great Ceremony.” Teri smiled.
“Ah, my children,” The professor interrupted. “I’m afraid you are mistaken. For Mr. Bates has already declined such a position. Even if he wanted it, surely Putin and Xi would block such a move – those two are always conspiring.”
“Bill Bates as Secretary General is inevitable.” Benedict re-affirmed. “Yet’s that only a minor stepping stone for him. I’m surprised you didn’t see this, Antonio — the world is in turmoil and it has been for over a decade. We need ONE person to step up and draw us together under the banner of peace and safety. The planet is begging for a leader who can help us escape these never ending pandemics and find sustainable solutions to the specter of climate change. Who else could that person be but William Henry Bates III? Sure he makes a pretense of resisting, but in reality only because his time has not yet come. He will accept the post when it is laid at his feet – when the world begs him to take over – and with your pawns Putin, Xi, and that puppet-master Obama leading the way.”
“Father, I’ve already told you The Brotherhood has been pumping The Bates Foundation’s agenda up throughout Africa.” Teri reminded. “They’re using the BLM goons to build anti-Asian sentiment against Ki-Moon among the more radical factions of Europe so he won’t be around much longer. The World Health Organization, CDC, and political hacks like Dr. Flipflop have destroyed people’s businesses and their spirits with never-ending lockdowns against their made-up pandemic variants. Ninety-nine percent of the world is now on universal basic income and nobody can work, travel, or even buy groceries without their Freedom Passes – and that’s assuming they have enough social credits to unlock their account. The public is crying for a savior! Why it’s all going according to plan and you know this already. Why are you being so difficult?
(I would have known that too — had I been to any of the recent Brotherhood meeting).
“But, how does that help our cause?” Antonio asked. “I thought we were trying to destroy Mr. Bates, not give him even more power.”
“In chess?” Antonio returned the question. “Are you asking if I have played the Grandmaster Anatoly Karpov?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Karpov waste his time with me? I’m no master.”
“I have played Karpov – once.” Benedict reminisced. “1984. You may not know this but I actually did hold Master rank during my youth– although it was unofficial, given my religious position. In any case, the Grandmaster taught me quite a lesson…
“For Karpov’s intentions became understandable to his opponents only when salvation was no longer possible.
“That is what happened to me too.” Benedict continued. “Karpov drew me in, allowed me to rise to a position of power, and then ruthlessly crucified me. Once he decided to make his move, his drive to mate was inevitable and certain. Mind you, at the very point when I felt that I was on the verge of setting up my mate of him — when I felt most secure and actually stole a breath! — the very next instant, he turned the tables on me, and his every successive move led to victory. He was inexorable.”
“And that is what we shall do to Bill Bates, father.” Teri giggled.
“Check and mate.” Antonio agreed.
“Indeed.” Benedict smiled. “We’ll give Mr. Bates what he wants – we’ll give him the world. For that is HIS destiny. But in the end, I’ll take it back – for that is MY destiny.”
(I’ve got to say, although I’m done with The Commission, this vision WAS interesting. Hey, if The End of Days really are coming, then that’s fine by me – perhaps that will finally stop the insanity!)
Naturally, I didn’t get my wish — yup, the next night too The Big Guy forced yet another dream upon me…
And so it was that Hope and Hopelessness continued their eternal struggle – in the forms of the prophets Elijah and Enoch.
(Oh boy, whenever I get a vision of these two, it’s always a bit melodramatic – sorry. Just remember, I have no control here…)
“Our captor is The Great Deceiver.” Wailed Elijah, sitting in a pool of his own filth. “The Brother I warned the world about. Yes, it is Him.”
“He is not whom the world believes him to be.” Enoch replied stoically.
Now, as you might know, Elijah and Enoch were once men of renown, blessed amongst all. In fact, if you’ve read your Bible, then you know that when they had walked upon the earth, neither of them had tasted death, but instead both had been taken up to Heaven without ever experiencing the grave.
Even after they had passed from this world, many tales were told about their greatness and the memory of each had inspired believers for thousands of years – and all the while, both Elijah and Enoch had enjoyed the splendor of the afterlife.
But then, some three years ago, I began to get visions of how both were sent back to Earth, and instructed to fulfill a new mission – to prepare the world for the great and dreadful coming of the Lord.
Despite their previous experience with such heavenly assignments, when they returned again to this world, I could immediately see that both men quickly discovered that the peoples of this age were much different than those they had influenced in the past – for starters everyone was wearing face masks and afraid to let the prophets even get close to them.
Despite their God-given mission, Elijah and Enoch floundered.
For over a year, I had watched as they were unable to find anyone willing to place faith in what they had to say — and so the world missed out on much of the prophecies they first spoke.
(It wasn’t really that important anyway, trust me. Also, in defense of the rest of the world, while the United Nations open border policy allowed for immigrants to travel freely (if they could provide the necessary Vaccine Passports), Elijah and Enoch had no such documentation. How Elijah ended up in the hill country of Romania, or Enoch in Southeast Asia, I’ll never know – and I’m sure they didn’t either. It didn’t help that the prophets clung to the former hygiene habits of the Old Testament, nor that they spoke ancient dialects that the people of the lands they traveled in could not understand – in short looked like more like a couple of Covid-carrying panhandlers rather than divine prophets proclaiming the coming Revelation. But I guess He didn’t think ahead on that before He sent them, huh?)
The more visions I got about The Two Witnesses, the more I could see that both prophets were not reacting well to their visionary experience – specifically whenever they got a vision it clearly incapacitated them. Luckily for them, people who observed them in such spasms wrote it off as merely some of the serious but all-too-common “immune responses” to the Covid vaccines and just let them suffer through it – because that was the norm at the time. When the local authorities observed them survive, they happily shoved a couple Immunity Passes on them although I doubt the prophets realized how valuable that kind of documentation was.
Meanwhile I knew better – they were experiencing revelations. I watch them try to resist when the visions hit them – yet their efforts were futile and they had no choice but to accept what He sent them…
Powerful images force fed into their minds, an unwelcome miasma that they had no choice but to regurgitate to any who would listen…yet few ever did.
But then, some two years ago, I became intrigued to see that both of the prophets were ‘discovered.’ At first I thought they were just being rounded up by the Covid contact tracers in their areas and taken to one of Quarantine Camps in their regions – where they’d inevitably be vaxxed, chipped, and ‘educated’ on the virus safety protocols for their area. But that’s not what happened.
Instead I watched with curiosity as each of the men was taken… somewhere else.
Although I didn’t see where they traveled to, I did witness that both prophets ended up in the same mysterious location – where they were met by a man whose identity I could never quite make out, yet who had obviously correctly identified the seers as the heavenly witnesses they were.
Then it was that the prophets were indeed vaxxed and chipped against their will (like so many other people in the world). Worse yet, it quickly became clear that their new acquaintance was in fact not doing all this out of friendship to the prophets – for the mystery man then put Elijah and Enoch in shackles and imprisoned them in a dark dungeon. But sadly their horrors didn’t end there – next the captor blinded the seers by gouging out their eyes! Finally, after dressing them in sackcloth, their evil benefactor left the blind prophets to live in filth and squalor – forsaken by the world and apparently their God too.
And yet, in spite of all of these hardships, still Elijah and Enoch prophesied – for they had no choice. (Apparently not even the Covid Vaccine could stop their visions, but then again that vax didn’t do much to stop Covid either so I don’t think anyone was surprised by yet another example of the vaccines INeffectiveness, right?)
Meanwhile, aas it now stood for the prophets, today was no different than yesterday, and promised no hope for tomorrow – and in that regard I felt akin to them.
As I looked upon them today, I saw them huddled next to one another on the cold stone floor of the dank cave that held them. Yes, although prophets, they were prisoners. After many months in this place both men were frail and gaunt, yet still they did not protest their conditions. (On the bright side, at least they didn’t have to wear those silly face masks in their cell – so they had something to be thankful for, right?)
Yet I knew that neither man had a mind made for this world – instead their only purpose was to speak about the knowledge of what was to come – and in this capacity, there were none on earth who could match their tales. (No, not even me).
Unfortunately for the world, no one recognized their talents until it was too late.
Correction — their captor did – for it was he who had arranged to have cameras record their every action and word. Thus, whilst Elijah and Enoch continued to speak about that which they saw in their mind’s eye, what they did not know was that they were involuntarily spewing forth God’s wisdom to a man whom these divine messages were never intended for!
“He holds the Seven Stars captive.” Elijah bellowed.
“Even Smyrna and Philadelphia?” Enoch asked.
“All Seven are his.”
“Then He will rule over the nations with an iron scepter.” Enoch pulled downwards on his face, stretching open the barren caves of his missing eyes.
Elijah writhed on the floor, “Any who oppose him will be dashed like pottery.”
Enoch rose up and began to twirl, “A Great Battle is coming!”
“It has already begun!” Elijah tore at his skin as if to cast off a burning blanket.
The Last Temptation of John 