Tread Fearless: Survival & Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 4) (21 page)

John turned and walked away. But when he reached the barn door, he grabbed a roll of duct tape from Pete’s range bag and walked quickly back to the woman. When Becky saw the tape she tried to scream, but John quickly slapped a piece over her mouth, and then reinforced it with more tape around her entire head. Pure hatred burned in her eyes, and she struggled violently with her bonds. John made a second set of zip-tie cuffs, and then quickly added them to Becky’s wrists.

She kicked out her feet at John when he walked by, but when she missed she began beating her legs and feet against the ground in a spastic rhythm that resembled a grand mal seizure. Dust rose up as Becky continued to kick at the ground, and she moaned loudly as she struggled against her bonds. Her hair flew around her as she whipped her head in wild spasms of anger.

The two male prisoners, now fully aware of Becky’s behavior, looked scared and surprised. Though tied to their own poles many feet away, they tried to move even farther, as if Becky’s madness might be
contagious. John had an idea about what was happening, but he refused to believe it, thinking that such things were long past modern concepts of spirituality. Still, he couldn’t deny the possibility of a possession and decided to check it out from the other side.

John walked over to the dusty bales of hay stacked against the far wall nearest the barn door, pulled down a single bale, positioned it against the wall, and sat down. A moment later, he was standing next to his semi-reclined body on the other side of the veil, and was instantly surprised and alarmed by what he saw.

The light of Becky’s spirit was dim to the point of being almost completely snuffed out. John could see into her, and the sight of so many evil spirits stuffed into her body instantly angered him. It was as if they filled Becky like a genie’s bottle, and the cork was one vicious looking evil female spirit that literally sat in Becky’s head just to keep them all in. The female spirit was so busy trying to control the host that she didn’t even notice John’s spiritual presence.

The other two prisoners, the men, were not as bad off as Becky, but they were being assailed by a squad of about twelve evil spirits each. Like Becky, their light was dim, but they weren’t filled with evil spirits. He watched as the spirits fought to enter the men through a tear at the top of their heads. One would fly in, and a moment later another would fly in and push the other out. The spirit pushed from the body would writhe on the ground in delight, as it feeding on the hosts’ misery.

John yelled, “Stop!” And with an upraised hand, he used the name of Jesus Christ and commanded the evil spirits to assemble before him. Unable to deny the power and authority of their true Master, the spirits assembled and stood before John in a tight but ill-formed formation.

He had never before invoked the name of the Savior to address such a problem, and he wasn’t quite sure how it came to him, but it worked. And as soon as John spoke the command, the evil female spirit lost her hold over Becky and was forced out and away from her. The remaining trapped spirits, more than a hundred of them, poured out of Becky and assembled before John.

John searched his mind for her identity, and the name “Vivicean,” reached him. Though he didn’t yet know it, having her name gave him control over her that no mortal had ever before possessed. He also knew that she was old, one of the originals, and been set free to cause mayhem wherever she went. As the demoness of obscenity and shameful acts, she had personally attended to the partiers.

John also realized she was sent to temporarily waylay, or even delay his travels by many days, and he wondered what else the enemy would attempt to throw at him along the way. When she saw John, anger flashed across her countenance, and flowed from her like rivers of dark, icy water. John was ready for an attack, but when she turned to face him she only smiled and said, “Who are you and why do you interfere with my work?”

“Who I am is my own business, but you have no work here. Be gone with you!” snapped John.

Vivicean grew to John’s height as she walked toward him. And with a wave of her hand, she changed her dark attire into a beautiful and very ornate floor-length robe; one that would make any earthly queen envious.

“That’s no way to treat a woman,” she purred, as she slowly approached John.

“You’re no woman,” he replied calmly.

“Sure I am,” she remarked, and then threw off her robe to reveal herself to him completely. “I am all woman. All the woman you want. I am
your
woman,” she purred in a sultry tone meant to mesmerize John.

John turned his back to her, and while he did he casually put his hand on the hilt of his sword. But his next movement was quick and fluid, and in a flash he drew his sword and brought it down on Vivicean’s head.

She hissed with surprise when John turned with the sword, but she was helpless to avoid the blow. As the blade of light passed through her dark hair and into her head, Vivicean burst into countless particles of black energy. A shadow of her remained for a moment, reminding John of the volcanic ash that fell around his house, only she wasn’t made of
ash, nor did she accumulate on the ground at his feet. Instead, she turned to so many fine particles of energy and completely disappeared.

With the demoness gone, John looked at the spirits assembled before him. They only stared at him, waiting for his command, their expressions a mix of fear, question and wonderment. Strangely, he felt pity for them; how they were meant only to torment people under the watchful and controlling eye of the master controller and his cohorts.

They stood, practically locked in place, but John was unsure how to proceed. He couldn’t just leave them where they were, but he knew destroying them was even more wrong.
“Besides,”
he thought,
“Was it even possible to kill an evil spirit?”

Strangely, John had never before thought about it. What did happen to evil spirits when he “killed” them? Did they return to the enemy camp, ready to fight again after a brief time-out? And if that was the case, the fight between good and evil could rage on for an eternity with little to show for it.

While John was deep in thought on the matter, Eli appeared and stood next to him. “Hello, papa,” he said, as he rested a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder.

“Hello Eli. I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what to do with these evil spirits,” replied John, without taking his eyes off the enemy host assembled before him.

“You are right to wonder regarding the disposition of the fallen ones when they are slain in battle. You are also correct to reason that they are returned to the enemy. And they do often return to fight with us again. Nevertheless, it is a cycle of exquisite balance. There are rules in place,” answered Eli.

“A balance of no consequence it seems,” replied John.

“There are, most certainly, consequences,” replied Eli. “For instance, there’s a law that the enemy cannot portray the Father, or His Son. The universe itself demands balance. Balance is absolute despite the appearance to the contrary.”

“So what are my choices? If I kill them they’ll only return. These spirits are like foot soldiers, pawns. Isn’t there a better solution?” asked John, as he turned to face the young man who looked so much like Adam that there was no denying he was his son’s yet unborn child.

“You’re options are three,” answered Eli. “You can let them return, you can exile them, or you can offer them a second chance.”

“Exile? A second chance? I don’t understand,” replied John.

“Exile is akin to banishment. The spirits sent to exile are, in essence, held hostage till the end of the . . . how would you say it . . . the end of the exercise. When sent to exile, they are taken out of the fight and unable to participate,” said Eli.

“And a second chance?”

“Yes. You can offer them a second chance,” said Eli. “Elohim has endowed you with the authority to grant these spirits a second chance . . . a chance to return to heaven after they complete their preparations. Agency applies, of course. They still have a choice. But it’s a chance for them to return home before the battle is done.”

“You mean dark spirits, evil spirits, can actually go back to heaven?” asked John with surprise.

“No. Of course not. Darkness cannot abide the light. The two are entirely incompatible. But they can, through their own work, prepare to receive the light if they so choose. Remember, papa, they were children of light before they fell.”

“But they made their choice. Didn’t that damn them forever?” argued John.

“How many chances were you given for the mistakes you have made in this life?” asked Eli.

“Good point,” replied John. “I guess I didn’t think about it like that, but it makes sense.”

“You must also consider the power of choice when someone is under duress. When you fear for your life, and the lives of your loved ones, agency can be a difficult and less black and white matter of choice. Wouldn’t you say?”

“I understand. You’re saying that some of the fallen ones were lied to, and coerced into following Lucifer’s plan? And when he was cast out, so were they,” said John.

“Almost all were lied to. But a few did follow him willingly. The woman you met, she was a willing follower, but after the fact.” replied Eli.

“After the fact?” asked John.

“Yes. She wanted both, to have a body, and to work for the enemy. She was what you would call a witch when she lived long ago, in her physical life. Having been given dark powers by the enemy, powers she used to cause trouble here, she quickly returned to him when she died. She is one of his.”

“You said is . . . not was,” added John.

“You’re right, she’s not in exile. Your actions sent her back to her master. But you know her name, and you can send here there with a word if Father wills it.”

“The balance,” said John.

“The balance,” replied Eli, as he turned to look at the formation. “So, papa, what do you wish to do with these spirits? They have heard our entire conversation, and they await your decision.”

“I bet they do,” remarked John. “The way I see it, there are only two choices . . . exile, or a second chance,” and with a shrug, John shouted, “With a show of hands, how many of you want a second chance?”

To John’s surprise, every dark spirit but one raised his or her arm into the air. The spirit who didn’t raise his arm stood directly and defiantly before John. “You wish to be exiled?” John asked the spirit with surprise.

“I do not,” answered the male spirit, “but neither do I wish for the warden to harm my family line. If he finds out that I left willingly, then he will torture them gladly. Therefore, I have no choice. Send me into exile if you will, but I beg you, kill me now and send me back to them.”

John turned to Eli and asked, “Is there a way to protect them from the enemy . . . to keep them from finding out they were given a second chance?”

Eli looked up for a moment and said, “There is a way. You can protect the second chancers with your mark. Those marked by you will appear exiled to the enemy, but will be given a chance to recover, learn and eventually reintegrate into Heaven.”

“Sounds ominous,” replied John.

Eli grunted and said, “It’s the best I can offer in translation. Just know that it’s a place where they can learn and grow at their own pace, and do so without any threat of harm or fear. However, they will require a custodian. One in this group should be assigned as such.”

John turned to the cautiously defiant spirit standing in front of him and asked, “If I can protect your family, do you want the job?”

“I would be honored, Second Chance Giver,” the man replied with a bow.

John ignored the honorific, unsure of how to embrace it, and turned his attention back to the matter of protecting, or marking the second chancers. “Any recommendations?” he asked Eli.

“You are more than capable of choosing a mark or token of trust, papa. For now I must go. Thank you for your work. Until next time, adieu,” replied Eli with a hug.

John hugged him back and said, “Thank you, Eli.” Eli broke contact, nodded once in approval, and was gone in the twinkling of an eye.

John turned back to the newly appointed custodian spirit and asked, “What’s your name?”

“I am called Eric, but I will accept any name you offer, second-chance giver.”

“Eric works for me,” said John. “And I will also give you a token - a bracelet. As long as you and the others wear it, your choice to leave will not be revealed to the enemy. Do you accept the token as I have offered it?” asked John, as he addressed the entire assembly.

The response was unanimous, and John began to create bracelets of energy for the host of assembled spirits in the barn. As each individual accepted a bracelet, they left in a trail of light that traveled generally
away from him in a lateral direction. John knew that didn’t mean anything, but it was still interesting to him.

The last to accept a bracelet was Eric, and before he put it on his wrist, he thanked John for honoring him as the custodian of the second-chancers, and asked if he would come and visit. Without really understanding what he was committing to, John felt good about it and agreed. When he said farewell, Eric left as did the others. After a quick look around, John returned to his body and opened his eyes.