The darkness was so thick that I could almost feel it as it crept into my consciousness. I believed that if I reached out my hand for it, I could grab and hold it. Alas, they were behind me; tied tightly – those hands of mine that started it all. Those hands which held and directed the vessel that made real my fears and my thoughts against these forces of evil. My hands. And the quill they once proudly held.
I closed my eyes. They were useless anyway. But I tuned all my concentration to my ears. I could not afford to miss out on any movement around me. Outside, it was still. So still that I could almost hear my own thoughts, loud, ringing in my ears. Not like they really helped matters. All they said only served to lend strength to my thumping heart.
The door creaked briefly and stopped. Silence. Torturing silence. I listened with all my might. I heard nothing. Then, it creaked again, this time, loudly. I felt it open wider. A short burst of cold air crashed against my humid face. And then, just like it started, it ended, with the door slamming back into its hinges. The resultant bang gave no echo. I wondered why.
Footsteps started to move towards me. Sure, strong-footed ones. Footsteps with a loud sense of direction. In the brief seconds it took the footsteps to get to me, the volume of the drums of doom being beaten enthusiastically by my heart intensified. I heard the beats – loud and clear, as if with a pair of head phones.
As soon as the footsteps stopped, in front of me, I became aware of another presence. A presence definitely darker than the darkness I was in. I could not particularly locate the presence. It was simply…everywhere. And out of it flowed fear as liquid as the tears of heaven. Fear that makes you banish willingly all traces of hope from your soul. The presence settled gradually in the room, sucking rapidly the air, and soon making it difficult to breathe.
“Look at you”, The voice, masculine, of the footsteps spoke, “looking so white, like the marbles of a tomb head.”
I knew this was probably true. I actually felt like that, but I wondered how he knew…how he saw me in the darkness.
“Is this all there is to you?” The voice continued, taking a scornful turn, “What happened to all your brags about your God and His powers?”
Even if I wanted to answer him, I could not. The presence has my tongue.
“My name is the strength of my might”, The voice declared, “My name defines me and the deeds of my powers. My name is the Presence that follows my footsteps and the fear that consumes my foes”, The voice paused, as if to give his words time to sink into my soul, “My name has brought you here and my name will see your end. My name is Beelzebub. What is your name?” The voice asked.
As if on cue, my tongue loosened and without thinking, I heard myself say “My name is Emmanuel…”
Faintly, I began to hear sounds. Sounds that seem like the roars of a thousand raging seas. The sounds grew louder with each second that passed. With a prompt in my spirit whose source I could not decipher, I said again “My name is Emmanuel.”
The presence started to lift. My heart began to calm. As it calmed, a song began to rise out of it, ringing in my ears, casting out the thoughts of my fears and sending warmth in their stead.
Then, with strength I never thought I possessed, I screamed “My name is Emmanuel!”
Thunder struck. Lightening flashed. And a blinding light enveloped the room.
I felt myself lift up from the ground. I looked down. The bonds that tied my hands have fallen. I felt a new, pleasurable sensation at my back. The sensation was followed by a new sound – that of rushing wind. I looked around. And I saw wings. Gaint white ones. On my back. Wings of an Eagle.
My name is Emmanuel.
And my name has set me free.
What is your name?
“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength…they shall mount up with wings like eagles.”
2:53pm; 31-03-2017; CLA Lib.