Forward:
OF ASHES AND HOPE
Volume One :
Into The Fires
An modern American nightmare,
I fervently hope and pray this never becomes more than a bad dream of twisted fantasy. The Gog- Magog war, and the tribulation of the saints are no joking matters.
Some may think that I have taken some liberties, with the standard Biblical apocalyptic references, it has not been my intention or desire to change, distort, or twist GODs word at all, rather, to take things in a more directly literal sense. While partially based upon various Biblical prophecies this is not intended as a prophetic work, this is merely a work of fiction, utilizing elements of the Bible, and Islamic eschatology as well as recent political events as part of the plot structure. This is a great
" What if ? "
What if the apocalypse, tribulation was more horrible than popular writers have conveyed?
What if, the rapture, when the saints are caught up, only happens in the end of tribulation?
What if all the accepted tales, of a pre-tribulation rapture, the source and identity of the Beast/antichrist, were wrong?
What if...
What if there was far more literal meaning in Biblical prophecies than has been interpreted over the last two centuries?
What if good ole unca sugar, uncle sam is not found mentioned in Biblical prophecies simply because, the U.S. Was no longer capable of doing anything because of a non existent economy, storm devastations, solar flare ups, terrible politics, man made viral out breaks, and a military worn down by decades long wars,
What if the U.S. Dissolved, into factions, a brutal circumstance like the Balkans of Europe ( Yugoslavia post Tito) in the 90's, with genocides, revolutions, civil wars, ethnic cleansing, inter cultural warfare. Serbs vs Everyone, Croats, Albanians, Bosnians, and all the rest of the genotypes and cultures known to the region against everyone, one against all , all versus one, enemies amongst enemies, confusion, chaos, evil unleashed.
What if...
What if, we have been sold childlike fantasies, fairy tales to believe, lies that deceive, in a world that is built upon nightmares?
What if, light, can only shine in darkness?
What if the dawn, the promise of light, only follows the darkness of night?
Anyone interested in the facts, I must refer to the Bible, it is there that truth will be found in the Word of GOD.
Do not trust me to get it right, Trust only HIS Word, not fantasy, not distorted visions, to reveal the light.
the Only way out of darkness,
is to follow the SON.
*****++++++++++*****
PROLOGUE:
“What do you think you are gonna do?” Michael could not help himself, he had to laugh. The belligerence was ludicrous.
The speaker, long used to being in control and the submission of his minions truly had no understanding of the situation he was in.
Pin point pupils showed evidence of likely opioid intoxication. The stench of stale beer and alcohol spoke of drunkenness.
Michael gathered himself ,this would require serious control.
“ We, are going to have a conversation. I, will endeavor to bring you to a clear, concise understanding that actions have consequences.First, to sober you up a bit, can't have you missing the point now can we.”
“ What bullshit is this? Trying to impress me with big words?Do ya think I am stupid? You ain't gonna do nothing, Do you know who I am aaaaaarrrgh!” The tirade cut off with a scream that faded into gasping breaths and groans
“ I know exactly who you are. Before we are done, you will know exactly who and, what, you are as well.” Michael feigned a smile while speaking softly, with a pleasant tone while holding a spiked Tomahawk in his right hand and a Red wire with clamp in his left. A black wire was clamped firmly to the scrotum of the now highly attentive recipient of understanding duct taped to the metal folding chair. Both wires led to a deep cel marine battery placed beside the chair.
“ I wonder, which will give out first, the battery or, you ?” Michael asked with a feral smile. “ I ain't snitching! Not telling you nothing asshole” the bedraggled lost soul strapped to the chair spit out.
Chuckling, Michael replied.
“Oh No, there's nothing you could tell that we don't already know. This is not about us learning anything you may know. This, is about you learning. You learning exactly who and what you are. Besides, coerced information is usually false. Which is why torture is mostly useless in interrogation.”
Michael lightly touched the chair with the red wire. “ See what I mean?” The semblance of a person screamed and fainted. Soiling himself as well as the chair in the process. Michael wrinkled his nose in disgust.
The lost soul, awoke to new sensations.
He was no longer bound to the metal folding chair. He found himself laying on his back on a cold stainless steel table.hands and feet securely fastened to the table. He was naked, and he could feel the clamp still attached to his scrotal sack.
“ When we are finished here, You will be a believer. A believer in the mercy of Hell.” Michael explained as someone out of the prisoners sight was pouring something into his belly button.
“ You will understand that Hell is Gods mercy. You Will believe. You will know precisely what you are. When we are finished, You, will joyously, reverently kneel and wrap your lips around Satan's cock in gratitude. Gratitude for freeing you from me. Shall we begin.?”
Michael ignited a road flare and touched the burning end to the prisoners belly. A shower of bright sparks erupted.
The prisoner screamed while a shower of fire and sparks fountained from his belly.
“ That's the thing about thermite. It cauterizes as it burns through. Even burns under water.” The prisoner screamed, writhed, tried to flail.
Turning to the watchers, men bound to folding chairs, placed in a circle around the proceedings. “ Pay close, careful attention. I want you to make clear, detailed reports to your superiors when we release you.”
Michael set about the lesson.
As he worked, coldly, efficiently, showing no emotion beyond a feigned smile,Michael considered the path that had brought him here, to this place, this moment, these actions.
Michael considered the things that unleashed the monster within.
For Michael It began Five years before. Though,progressives had been laying the ground work and setting the stage since the early Twentieth century.
†**************************†
"I don’t care! It aint about politics, It is about right and wrong!” Spitting on the ground he turned and stalked away crumpling the pepsi can and throwing it into the open back of the blazer as he got in, started it up and drove off.
The group of good old boys watched him drive away, baffled by Mikes sudden outburst and reaction. Michael was usually the calm one, reasonable. This was a new face for their friend.
Mike drove down the red clay dirt road, the anger still steaming off him like steam from a kettle. He could not understand why they didn’t get it. The news was filled, night after night with the sickening images from Syria and the atrocities of Daesh the Taliban, and countless other terror regimes. Yet the government seemed intent on doing nothing while giving the least appearance of action. Politics as usual. Politics had nothing to do with wrong or right, only convenience and expediency. Fubar,( f*ck#d up beyond all recognition) the standard state of the world it seemed to him. Most of his friends and neighbors were too wrapped up in the big two-party argument to think for themselves. A country divided within itself, Democrat vs Republican, neither party really cared about right or wrong, all they cared for was the favors and connections needed to acquire and maintain political power. Meanwhile as the world burned, the media served as pack of 21st century Nero’s fiddling while everything burned. Doing their utmost to distract, divide, and confuse the people. The wars of terror and violence, the fear mongering was great for ratings. High ratings led to high profits. High profits motivated both the corrupt political powers and their media mouthpieces. Right, wrong, good and evil meant nothing to these servants of greed.
Shaking his head as he drove back home. Home, where Laura waited. Laura, His wife was the only thing keeping him here in the states. For the thousand and first time he thought about the job offer. The money would be extremely handy, with the wrecked economy and two ex-wives constantly crying for more. More and more that was never enough. Neither one of his exes seemed to understand the concept of budget or economy, one of the many reasons both marriages failed. Mike was still trying to figure out an argument that would convince Laura that the job was a good Idea. Laura did not care about the money, all she seemed to be concerned with was Mike being gone for a year. A year spent in the Middle East training the Peshmerga for their fight against Daesh.
The Kurds were the only effective fighting force in the field against Daesh. The armies of Iraq and Syria were in constant retreat. Hell, 20 years in Uncle Sam’s Army Had left Mike with few real world skills. His retirement was completely eaten up in alimony and child support. Leaving Mike with no choice but to scrabble hard to make ends meet. Thirty eight years old, and working dead-end jobs in the economic shambles of post covid America, with only the occasional bounty which were few and far between blessings. Laura did not like it when Mike kitted up and went to work picking up bail skips. Far from a pacifist, Laura was worried for Mikes safety. She hated seeing him shrug into his bullet proof vest, and blue and yellow Bail Enforcement agent jacket. She really hated seeing him with his .357 on his side and shotgun in hand, walking out the door. She was terrified each and every time that he wouldn't come home again, that she would wake up in the middle of the night to a Sheriffs officer at her door telling her Mike wouldn't be coming home. Mike did not know it, but, Laura cried herself to sleep each and every night he was working. She would never let it on to him. She kept that secret far from him. It was her only secret.
Mike pulled into the long gravel driveway, stopping to get out and check the mail. Then driving slowly up to the house.
Laura would be surprised to see him back so soon. Mike had planned on an overnight fishing trip with his friends, and here he was and it wasn’t even dark yet. Mike just couldn't handle listening to the shallow arguments about the war on terror, the war in Syria, the constant bomb them back to the stone age comments. Damn, bombing couldn't work, the problem with that was, most of the problem areas were still in the stone age! Damn fools who had never seen the elephant let alone seen anything firsthand of the third world couldn't understand that. How to explain the reality of most of this sad world to people that had never seen or experienced the madness and horror that most of the world called reality.
In the nineties Mike had been tasked to an “observer” mission in Zaire and Rwanda, He had seen first hand the horrors, and the evil of his fellow-men. After that the missions to the Balkans, the mass graves, the genocides of Africa and the Balkans, the ritual cannibalism of the Hutu’s and Tutsi’s, seeing young girls with their hands and feet cut off, their breasts cut off so they couldn't nurse their babies. Mike had come to understand the depths of evil humans were capable of. The evils of the Balkans were just as bad, if slightly different than Central Africa. Both missions had been pointless as far as Mike was concerned. Both missions achieved nothing other than the scant appearance of doing, something, while watching and doing nothing.
You do not send US Army Rangers to watch. The things that plagued Mike were not a single time he had ever had to kill in battle. The guilt Mike carried came from watching, from not killing the evil bastards committing the evils he had been ordered to watch and submit reports about. And here it was happening all over again, nothing seemed to change. A Democrat controlled government, making noises about human rights while doing nothing other than lining their pockets. Of course, the Republicans were just as bad, merely the flip side of the same political coin.
Mike pulled up next to the cabin, and sat, gathering himself together, tears threatening, he could feel the bitter sting of sorrow mixed with fury burn in his eyes. Breathing deep, he wiped the tears away, composing himself before going inside to Laura. He did not want to worry her, and decided yet again that he had no good argument for what he desperately wanted, what he believed he needed to do. A few steps from the truck, three steps up onto their front porch, and breathing deep, he jerked the front door open, “Hello baby! I am back!”
Laura had heard the old Blazer coming up the driveway, she knew the sound well. Wondering what had brought Mike home so early, she was just stepping into the front room as Mike came through the door, A huge smile on his face as he called to her, seeing her, he swept her up, and hugged her tight burying his face in her long red hair, “ I missed you baby! I love you, let’s go get some barbeque!”
She knew something was wrong, but Mike’s infectious grin prevented her from asking, so she just kissed him and smiled back. “It’s all about the pig, has all you can eat ribs tonight!” Laura was sold, It’s all about the pig had the best and most varied Barbecue Laura had ever tasted.
The rundown restaurant looked like something out of a bad B movie, but the menu had both mustard as well as hickory sweet sauce plus Texas bbq…not to mention the hush puppies, Laura’s mouth was already watering.
“So put me down and let me get my shoes on!” she laughed and set about getting herself ready. Mike smiled watching her get ready, knowing it would be a little while, as she primped, checked her makeup and scurried about.
He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee, though she surprised him, he had only time for a couple of sips before she announced “Let’s go Darling! The line will be out to parking lot if we don’t hurry!”
Putting down his coffee cup, Mike decided to take the classic restored 73 Trans Am tonight. He didn't know it yet, but that was one of the more crucial decisions he had ever made. Would ever make.
It is the little things that matter most. Those small details that mold the future more surely than the big splashy media events could ever lay claim to.
Theo and his partner in crime, Shaniqua, were both stoned as all hell already, giggling as they got ready for their nights fun.
Sharing the oversized blunt between them, the room was hazy from the smoke. It was more than just weed, a cocktail of special k and crack mixed in, had them out of their minds already, and tonight was a special night, they had plans!
Gonna stick it to the man, kill the oppressive white demons time! Gonna get even with evil whitey.
Their young lives had been spent on a constant diet of hate and anger, blaming every ill in their narrow urban world on the racist white powers that had kept them down.
Louis Farrakhan had been preaching the evils of racism for decades that only whitey could be racist don't you know. Only racist whitey, and the corrupt " bankers" held power according to the collective voices of leftist insanity. Screaming they were fighting Nazis while spewing Nazi doctrines of Jew hatred and anti capitalism.
The nation of Islam had been preaching that whites were not even human, but some sort of demons from outer space, that every wrong and evil in the world was the creation of whitey and the evil bankers. The bankers financed and controlled everything, using whitey as their weapons to oppress every people of color while Enslaving and exploiting the worlds resources.
Tonight, the war would begin at long last; the oppressed and abused would strike back. Antifa, with a hodge podge of radical Islamists had been planning, recruiting, plotting for years. Training camps had been set up throughout the United States in rural areas, training and spreading their twisted hate, preparing to bring the great Satan to its knees while in most major cities across the country, the armies of evil , bizarre alliances of marxist anarchist and Islamic terrorists, prepared to strike.
Street gangs had been recruited and armed; the gun was cocked and loaded, just waiting for the trigger to be pulled. Yes, federal and state agencies had known about this situation, the preparation, the planning for decades. Considering the amount of profits to be made with the political powers, corruption had obviously become the rule.
Mike drove in silence, the radio blaring classic rock, Led Zeppelins " When the Levee Breaks " thundering from the CD player. The 73 Trans Am purred with that sweet big block rumble down I-85, headed south towards Atlanta. Laura sat quietly, subtly watching Mike from the corner of her eye, wondering what was bothering him and anticipating the sweet tangy ribs waiting for them. Whatever it was, she was sure he would eventually work his way through it just as He always had.
Mike exited the interstate and slowed down, Gainesville Georgia was a college town, and Friday night was in full swing, coeds wandered everywhere, cruising back and forth, partying as college kids do.
Mike wove his way carefully thru the crowded side streets, pulling in beneath the giant neon pig. Parking close to the restaurant for a change. He shut her down, got out and hurried his way around the car before Laura could open her door herself, Mike gallantly opened the car door with a sweeping bow, “Milady, thy feast awaits!” Laura laughed and stepped out and up into Mikes waiting arms, he pulled her close kissing her thoroughly.
Laura forgot any apprehensions, pleased, happy in the moment. Arm in arm like typical young lovers, they walked into the Barbeque joint. The air was heavy with the smells, sweet hickory, tangy mustards, vinegar, roasting pork, beef, sausage, Brunswick stew. a heavy melange of mouth watering aromas. Both of their stomachs grumbled in anticipation.
They were seated quickly. It was still early and they didn’t have to wait at all. Mike ordered sweet tea and the rib buffet for both of them, Laura arranged her jacket on the back of her chair, and they were off to the salad bar, laughing and joking.
It was a good time, the food as always was fantastic, the ribs so tender they fell apart. You could easily have simply licked the meat from the bones, no teeth required. Mike and Laura gorged themselves. After several platters of ribs had been reduced to a pile of barebones sucked clean, Laura ordered peach cobbler and coffee. Mike, went for the strawberry cheese cake, and coffee as well.
The two sat, sharing tastes of their respective deserts, laughing, relaxed, enjoying the moment. Life, was good. This is why, this simple joy and pleasure, the peace that assured its existence, had been worth sacrificing, fighting, even killing for. Mike thought silently, smiling.
However
Just like in the days of old Testament prophets, the political pundits and false profiteers, had cried " Peace peace! "
When there would be no peace.
Savoring his oversized slice of cheesecake, Mike was considering what to do next, should they go for a few drinks, and some dancing, or maybe a movie, He was just opening his mouth to ask Laura which she would prefer when the plate-glass front of the restaurant blew into a million pieces shattering into the now crowded restaurant with a flash and a roar.
Mike reacted nearly simultaneously it seemed, diving across the table covering Laura with his body, sweeping her to the floor overturning the table. Laura was just registering that something was wrong when Mike swept her to the floor. Laura never processed more than that moment, ever again.
Broken glass was everywhere, there was the sound, like fireworks popping, and then people started screaming. Smoke filled the room, people panicked. Those that could, were trying to rush the front doors, which hung in shattered pieces.
Mike had already realized that it was gunshots not fireworks. Those that tried to get out the front door, began falling and screaming.
Mike half dragged half carried Laura towards the back, into the kitchen, which was still intact. Then out into the back alley, the kitchen crew were the only people in the alley, freaking out, babbling questioning what had happened.
It was then that Mike realized that Laura was not only silent, but limp in his arms. He gently lowered her to the ground, asking her what was the matter, running his hands across her body, he found them covered in blood.
Laura had been hit by pieces of the broken storefront glass, and been cut badly. When he moved her into the light cast down by a street lamp, he saw, a small neat hole in her forehead, gasping he rolled her over to find that the whole back of her head was missing. Laura was dead in his arms. Time stopped, eternities fell between Mike’s heartbeats.
Something inside of him snapped. An icy chill spread from Mikes belly, he gently moved Laura’s body to lay her down next to the wall.
An Hispanic busboy began yelling in Spanish , pointing at the blood covered specter of Mike as he stood erect, his 6’5” frame , covered in Laura’s blood, shaking and towering over the much smaller kitchen workers.
Mike bent once more, and softly kissed Laura’s lips, closing her eyes, he stood, turned and began running towards the entrance to the alley.
Pausing at the corner of the building Mike surveyed the scene. He could see people screaming , some panicked and running,some wandering in shock.
As he emerged onto the sidewalk, he could see his car, parked just beneath the now shadowed sign. Yells could be heard, he could hear cries of Allahu Akbar mingled with die Honkie bitches , amongst the screams of panicked running people.
Mike made his way to his car, as a man cried out and fell right beside him, Mike dove for cover, rolling to a stop on the passenger side of his car. Automatic weapons fire rang out, Mike fumbled for his keys dropping them repeatedly. Staying low, he opened the passenger door, and wriggled part way in, he hesitated for a split second then quit thinking.
Trained reflexes took over. He retrieved his Ruger GP100, .357 from the center console, along with three speed loaders. Staying as low as he could, he removed the trigger lock, and looked around him. Part of his mind cursed the awkward trigger lock, he promised himself that he would never use the damned things again.
People were running every which way, screaming, crying out and falling as they were hit. Mike was looking for the shooters, where were they? He could tell from the echoing reports that there was certainly more than one.
Sporadic automatic fire could be heard in the distance as well. It was clear this was part of a much larger operation. Faint sirens could be heard, though no law enforcement was anywhere near Mikes position. There, in the street, Mike saw a still form, A tall black male was laughing, and spraying the running crowds with an Ak-47, an equally tall heavy-set Black female was beside him , working a twelve gauge pump shot-gun, not even bothering to aim, just firing into the masses from the hip.
Mike worked his way to the rear of his car, popped up, acquired his target and fired. Double tapping the tall black male, who spun about as he fell, dropping the AK.
The female spun to see her companion fall, surprise and shock replacing her expression of glee. Mike sighted carefully and fired again, the back of her head exploded spraying her effluvia across the street and sidewalk. It was an easy shot, barely 25 yards.
People screamed and cleared the street. The shooting here had stopped, two armed bodies lay in the street along with their innocent victims. Sporadic firing could be heard in the distance. Mike slid to the ground, resting his head against the wheel of the big Dodge Ram parked next to the Trans Am. That was when the shakes and the tears began.
Sirens approached, Mike roused enough to retrieve his holster and shoulder rig. Shrugging his way into it, he holstered the .357 and pocketed the speedloads. There was no way to know if he would need them again tonight.
Closing and locking the car door, Mike made his way back to his wife’s body, ignoring the cries of wounded around him, and the pointing fingers of the people, now milling about gathering around the two bodies in the street. Eventually The police found him cradling her body in the alley, rocking her, silent tears falling.
The same scenario had played itself out throughout the United States that evening. From New York to Los Angeles, Seattle to Miami and scattered in between. War had come home to the country just as Antifa had been promising. However, just as Mike had fought back in Georgia, all across the nation, people had panicked, but some had fought back. Americans were a breed apart from anything the terrorists had planned for. More than two decades of war had provided many trained, experienced veterans that had been living quiet peaceful lives.
One has to wonder if the terrorists had expected the response of the American people. They obviously had not studied their history or they would never have awakened the dragon.
By dawn, the morning after the cowardly attacks. Neighborhoods in every city were in flames. Vigilante justice reared its ugly head, and many innocent people had been lynched along with the guilty and the killing had only just begun. Not one of the attacking terrorists survived. In the south, the killing and burning began in earnest. Inner cities were set aflame as vengeful infuriated Americans set about their work. Vigilante justice ruled. Over night the United States had become much like the war torn Balkans. Ethnic cleansing began, and in many cases the national Guard which had been called out to suppress the rioting. Instead either stood aside and watched or they joined in. The bloodshed was horrific. The country had gone insane. Only when the there was nothing left to burn did things begin to quiet down.
That was when the U.S. turned their eyes to the source of the weapons and planning. This was not a simple drone strike in retaliation. It was vengeance, pure rage directed and unleashed. The United States wreaked hell on earth.
The world looked on appalled and terrified. For when the dragon was awakened and enraged, the fires of Hell prevailed. The bombing only stopped when there were no more bombs. The shooting only stopped when there were no more bullets and no more serviceable targets.
Tragically, that was when the true horrors began. Just under a year of destruction, had devastated the world economy. Communist China tried to seize Taiwan. Japan South Korea, Australia, and others said no,no you don't to the CCP and east Asia burned. Pakistan and India lobbed nukes at each other, while Kashmir bled and burned.
Except for Israel , the Middle east was, done. Mecca, Medina, and every single city, town and village of the Saudi Arabian peninsula had been eradicated. The oil ceased to flow, instead it burned. Each oil field a hellscape like the Iraqis had left behind as they fled Kuwait in the first Gulf war.
Russia tried playing all sides to no avail. Internal strife, wars with Ukraine and other former soviet States left eastern Europe in ruins.
The rest of Europe managed until they ran out of gas and food. Then Europe ignited.
Africa, was, Africa, pretty much nothing changed except all of the various aid programs, stopped.
The Americas dissolved into regions of pseudo states that fought amongst themselves for resources constantly. These spasms of insanity cleared away the past setting the stage, making way for the new beast to rise.
And so, civilization burned and consumed itself leaving a world of chaos and death.
The world became the horrors that Isaiah, Jeremiah, Joel, Daniel, Ezekiel, Zechariah, Malachi, John, Peter, and YESHUA forewarned.
The moral of this story?
Never, not once, not ever, wake the sleeping dragon.
For the dragon will be hungry and the world is crunchy and good with ketchup.
Still, amidst the ashes of despair,
There is hope.