Elizabeth Catherine Dubois
Part One of The OIL..The War... by Bojenn
Overview:
There are at this time 2 parts to this chapter starting with
The OIL...., One Battle.... The Peace.....
In the center of a triangle representing The Holy Trinity, Elizabeth Catherine Dubois stands stoically, closing her eyes. Her spirit knows, "something is going on..." Elizabeth can not see in flesh, but her spirit knows something is taking place in the unseen dimension. Eleanor and His Glove are present.
Background
This chapter begins in the library of Elizabeth's manor on a hill side in winter. It is at the height of a spiritual battle which Elizabeth can not see, but she is acutely aware by her intuition and observations. In the scene is Eleanor, her spiritual guide, His Glove or Lovie the black puppy, Elizabeth Catherine Dubois, "Beth," and an entourage of evil demonic entities named, Fear, Hate, Self Loathing, The Accuser, and many other sub categories, blame, guilt, etc etc..of negative emotions. Within the room is an imaginary line or triangular shape which points represent The Trinity, The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit. In the center of the triangle Elizabeth Catherine Dubois stands, closing her eyes and looks upward. His Glove, representing God's love is at the first position, the locket with the picture of Thomas, Elizabeth's nine year old brother lost to the sea stands in the second position representing The Son. In the third position stands Eleanor who holds the chrismal of Holy oil, representing The Holy Spirit.
The war continues.
Part One:
From out of her heart moves The Spirit of Rejection and it's battalion, Isolation, Resentment, Hatred and The Accuser. They follow Rejection with their weapons drawn and pointing at her heart. She, unaware of their threats of stealing her life, knows something isn't "right" or "normal" in the air or atmosphere that afternoon.
His Glove growls ferociously.
"What are you growling at Lovie?" Elizabeth bends to pet his black head.
Eleanor's mouth won't move, frozen in an open position. Her eyes wide and set as she watches them step from Elizabeth's core body. Her heart races as she wonders where the back up angels are. She deep breaths not wanting to upset the atmosphere anymore than what it is, already. She knows she must begin with only, the help of His Glove. "How long will we last with out help?" She thinks. Not to dare the circumstances by opening her mouth.
Hoping, the evil forces, missed reading her thoughts as they are laced with fear. And perhaps, "Fear won't recognize itself, in me, and then say, 'I'm one of his.' Fear would laugh haughtily and say, I over-came this warrior today. I know fears best weapon. He casts fear and doubt into the heart of the best of us. God, where is the back up? Come quickly. What else can I learn? This warrior is aging and less patient with learning patience." So, Eleanor rationalizes internally.
Fear smirks at Eleanor staring like she is a joke. They had met before, but he was relentlessness and she seasoned. He knew her weaknesses. She knew his. Their eyes met and centered on the other's thoughts. He smirked again.
"Your comrades? Missing, I see?" Laughing sarcastically as usual.
"Mind your own battalion." Eleanor knew the best offenses are short responses to enemy questions served to rattle, confuse or to cause fear and doubt of a Supreme God. She actually said to much and realized afterward. Her best plan is no communication what so ever and as little eye contact as possible. After all, fear is thrown in daggers coming from anyone's eye. Fear teaches anyone that so chooses to learn. Fear loves eye swordsmanship. One of his favorite weapons, and Eleanor knows better. Fear won round one, his first play. Clever he is and such stunning looks that betray any human. His weapons are shallow, but deadly.
"Ha...I see you've been let down again." He seems to be playing, flirting with Eleanor as in casual conversation of old friends.
His Glove growled again. Fear gives His Glove the hawk look. His Glove does not cower. He is brave, as he too, faced Fear in combat more than once.
"Lovie, what are you seeing? What's wrong, boy?" Elizabeth nervous for some reason, as Eleanor acts weird and His Glove's growls at something unseen in the same direction as Eleanor. Both appeared oddly similar. "Something strange is taking place."
The second spirit stepped from Elizabeth and held it's sword over her mind. It was Fear itself with out any comrades. Elizabeth felling dizzy fell to her knees.
"Eleanor, I feel weak."
Shadows became active on the walls as the afternoon sun began setting and a dark ominous cloud positioned itself over the manor. Thunder, lightening and winds suddenly stopped over the old home on the hill.
"Why is it so dark in here? What is happening?"
From a different plane Eleanor heard a chant of angels on their way. But, not there yet. She was alone with Lovie.
"Elizabeth. You must open the third box, now! Take it!" Eleanor gently kicked the box at Beth's feet. "Open it.!"
Beth knew, at that moment, she must trust Eleanor. She must do as she says. Eleanor is a friend. She is not an enemy as suspected. "Open the box!" She rips it open.
"Be careful! Gentle!"
Beth weakens as the third spirit steps out of her core. She almost collapsed. She tried to move out of the edges of the triangle.
"No! You must stay in the center!" Eleanor yells. "Stay in the triangle. It will protect you."
Lovie growls more.
The third entity, Self Loathing, draws it's sword and presses it towards her stomach.
"I feel sick. I'm going to get sick!"
"You'll be fine. Get sick. It's understandable."
"Eleanor, what is going on?"
From all three spirits emptied their lesser spirits. They held their weapons at His Glove and Eleanor. His Gloves bit at one. Another lesser spirit stuck a knife in Lovie's heart. He fell, no longer breathing, Eleanor screamed! "The OIL! Now!"
"The oil?" Panting...and fumbling with the chrismal that held the oil, Elizabeth couldn't imagine what oil had to do with her precious puppy. "What happened to Lovie?" She opens the Gothic crystal top.
"Sprinkle only three drops on Lovie's heart."
Elizabeth moved within the triangle to Lovie's life less body. Though her hands shaking she administered three drops to his heart. She rubbed it on his black curly hair. "Don't die, Lovie. Don't die!" Her tears fell on his puppy dog hair. "What is wrong? Dear God? Oh, Lovie." Sobbing, "what is going on here? Eleanor?"
"Pour the oil over your head now, Beth. Now!"
"What? OK. Alright." Beth lifts the chrismal above her head. "Three drops?"
All along Elizabeth never noticed the voice, from the position of The Son in The Trinity, commands shouted from a male. She was oblivious and caught up in the cacophony and chaos of the now.
"Sprinkle the oil over your head."
Beth started to sprinkle three drops rather blindly over her hair, but suddenly the chrismal flew out of her hands, as if, someone hit it with a baseball bat. It did not shatter. However, it flew across the room. Before it passed out of the triangular lines, Eleanor reached and grab it from out of bounds. She landed face down. The chrismal is tight within her right hand. Then, Spirit of Intimidation put his clawed foot over the wrist holding the oil. He put enough pressure as to break her wrist. But still, she refused to let go. "Over her one-hundredth death" would they get it. She still remained quiet, but Beth started making verbal jabs at the evil crew even though they were invisible to her.
"Be quiet! Don't talk to them." From The Son's point.
"Why?" Elizabeth whispered looking toward the triangle's point. The Sons position. "What? Who is that?"
"Not know. Later. SHHH."Eleanor advised, "later."
Elizabeth looks back at Eleanor, "How will I know how to talk to you?"
"In your heart and in your mind... Read me. That is how you will know what to do. Now, no more talking." Eleanor got a visual lock on Beth's eyes. They nodded as they knew their eyes now recognized the others signals.
Author Notes
Elizabeth Catherine Dubois unknowingly centered between The Trinity now must fight the war. All her defenders now stymied and unable to help her, she intuitively awakens to the war being fought for her soul. She holds the gift from the third box. It is oil held in a Gothic Chrismal. She is uncertain how to use the oil with her faithful defenders immobilized. She uses mental telepathy to understand, to hear and to know the artful escape for her life.
Often, the battle for life is learned in the wars and battles of everyday life. The over coming, the courage and faith to know, to discern, and to live is conquered in the battles fought daily.
A special thank you to Wolfdancer 13 for this picture named The Spirit Guardian which I thought best reminds me of a younger Eleanor. Definitely her spirit...
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