In the corners and crevices of a large house usually bustling with activity, but now lying dormant in the quiet of sleep an unwanted, unnoticed stranger was lurking about.
The stranger moved stealthily with an ominous presence, like that of a trained marine sniper whose eyes never stop moving and whose movements trained ears can only detect. He was taking his time. Dawn was far off and he didn’t want to leave room for mistakes.
The Master was intolerant of incompetence and would make death seem a welcome friend in the face of his retribution for errors. He shuddered involuntarily.
Murder was easy. He was fearless and death was always easy to administer. It was his lifeblood. But a kind of carnal fear flooded his body at the mere thought of the Masters punishments. His torture was legendary and most never survived. He shook it off. There was work to be done.
A humorless smile lit on his thin lips as he approached the bedroom door of the “patient” he was commanded to destroy. A fifteen year old boy, sleeping on the bed.
One of four boys, Ray was the eldest, and for some reason (information the Master did not divulge) a threat.
A dark twisted hand stretched out toward the boys sleeping face…
John bolted up in bed breathing rapidly as he looked around the room. Panic gripped him, leaving him rooted to the bed. He glanced down at his sleeping wife as she shifted positions and went back to snoring softly. Slowly he slid down the side of the bed until he landed on his knees. He knew the routine. He was accustomed to these early morning awakenings. He was now wide-awake as the intercession began. That familiar earnestness he brought frequently to his Heavenly Father. He continued on even though he knew not whom, or what he was praying for, only that life or death hung in the balance.
The cold twisted hand stopped in midair. It was if something had a grip on it. Terror of another kind gripped the dark Stranger until every nerve felt raw and tinged. This could only be one thing, he thought. Someone or something was behind him. He could feel eyes searing into the back of his head. The terror was immobilizing, much worse than the fear he had of his Master. Yes, this was different. He had heard about this happening to his cohorts, but what was it?
The Stranger forced himself to turn around and there he stood face to face with his enemy. The enemy’s sword was already drawn. He was grim faced with a look of determination and utter disgust burning in his eyes.
Quickly he wielded the first blow and sent the Strangers bony hand flying across the room.
“Arrrggghh!” Screamed the Demon in futility as he attempted to call for reinforcements. It was too late. Dozens of Angels flooded the room with light, dispelling the Demon and his darkness back to the pit.
Quietly the man of God arose, peaceful and relaxed. He laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, completely unaware of the battle that had been fought and won…only two doors down from his own.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be right now. CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.