Tag: gathering

Buried Yet Breathing36.

December 14th, 2017

“You. Without direction, you did not do well, did you? How did you lead? By killing innocence, altering planned deaths and confusing eternal destinations, when I had all aligned from the beginning of time? Was that your battle to wage? Are you the Keeper of Promises?”

With that last statement, He rose off His throne and took a step down towards his prey. “Patience is a virtue and virtue is not your friend.”

The Promise Keeper broke his focus on Peter and raised his right hand, palm open towards the rest of The Gathering. Immediately, each restraint was released and all fell to the cold floor. A silver force field was then ignited, providing one big containment cell for all other captives.

Members of The Gathering crawled towards and hugged one another, quietly sobbing and exhausted. Chamuel called for other Peace Keepers to be on hand, via a digital panel on his wrist. Within seconds, a small legion of angels surrounded the captives.

The marble floor began to shake. Lightning shot forth from The Promise Keeper that ricocheted off the walls and circled the auditorium. His volume rose as he spoke. “You unleashed murder and altered eternities for two hundred and eleven souls that were preprogrammed to not yet leave their earthly bodies and therefore, you, who should know better than anyone still living, will be cast into eternal flame forever to suffer as the lost do. You did not choose me; you followed your own way and must therefore be separated from me for always.”

Terror pulsated through The Gathering, now on their feet with new found strength. Some cried out, for they knew this judgement was reflective of them as well.

“No!!”

“Please!”
With each outburst, a Peace Keeper unloaded a round from their guns; lime green rays of stun gun, disenabling the subject to have any use of their limbs or speech for minutes.

The Promise Keeper never skipped a beat. “You were all chosen! Handpicked by me to ultimately lead the most elite division in heaven, my playground, of the most brutal warrior angels I have ever created. To instruct and to transfer the skills you all have yet to realize I have implanted in you.

As Generals of the most prestigious legion of my Peace Keepers, you would have been eternalized with the greatest of honors.”
He turned and returned to his great throne, standing in front of it. With arms raised, he said, “But again, I say to you… you chose wrong. For what was in front of you, you chose calamitous failure.”

His gaze lowered to Peter, then to the floor beneath him. “And now you will fall and tumble and burn forever and ever in the bottomless pit where I do not stand foot and cannot help you. Amen, this is your end.”

All went black and all hope vanished in the blink of an eye. Some of The Gathering closed their eyes tight, not wanting to see the sights that lay before them of eternal damnation and torment without end. Others cried out, including Savannah, in sobs of desperation. Abandoned by the only one who could save them, the ultimate emptiness and sadness crashed over them like a wave that would only pull them down and hold them.

“Wait!!!” With every fiber of his being, Peter cried out in extreme desperation to save them all from eternal damnation. “Master! I implore you… let us make it right. I beg of thee… allow us this last chance to honor you. You’re right, Lord. I deserve obliteration and separation from you for eternity. My impatience brought us here. I failed to lead what you provided me with. I failed you and for that I am forever repentant.”

Peter took a deep breath then proceeded. “The Peace Keepers can escort us to the gates of hell and we will retrieve the souls engulfed-too-soon. I will deliver them back to you and make right where I have made such wrong.”

A dim light cut through the rich darkness, exploding its sheer cool, blue fluorescence, giving sight to all. The Gathering had all found their way to their feet and Peter remained in reverence on his knees before the grand throne. Peace Keepers surrounded Peter, unsure of how this would play out. With swords drawn, they stood their ground.

The Promise Keeper sat on his throne, staring deeply at Peter, with light emanating from everywhere. “Rise.”

With shaking knees and trembling arms, Peter slowly made his way from the marble floor to standing fully upright, mere stairs separating himself and the Creator of all.

What felt like an eternity of roaring silence, all with baited ears, The Promise Keeper gave His response. “This is my will, imparted to you.” He reached out his hand, open palm towards Peter whom which momentarily convulsed with eyes shut, receiving download from on high. In the brief moments that this began, it ended abruptly with Peter opening his eyes.

“You have heard. Now, go forth unto the rim of the abyss and bring back what could soon be eternally lost in scalding flame.”
Buried Yet Breathing21.

October 29th, 2017

When Peter and Savannah arrived, all were in attendance. Savannah felt it immediately: a presence of darkness. An enemy within grasp but out of sight. Peter sensed it too, and their gaze said it all.

Anticipating time was not their only issue, he addressed the group very directly. But first, many cries and accusations rang out from amongst them.

“What is left for us here?”

“Why did we believe you? Why did we follow? There is nothing for us here or anywhere.”

Another wailed between heavy sobs, whilst listening intently to the nest of demons lurking overhead. “The plan has failed! You cannot be The One! We are better off cold and dead, without air or without hope!”

Others went so far as to spit in Peter’s direction, among the yells and curses and tears. Savannah whispered to him, with a coy smile on her pale, pink lips, “They want your head. Tell them the good news and quick.”

Peter rose up, feet off the ground, with rays of purple electricity coursing through him and creating an aura surrounding him. His eyes glowed white and his breath spewed blue and red flecks of fire. “I did not lead you here to embrace defeat, so why hang your heads? Why do you throw stones and beg for death, when at hand are the keys to the exact freedom we came for?! Listen to me and never lose heart again, I command it.”

The wisest one of the group rebutted. “But what shall we do now? All of us are decaying bones. This is our new purgatory. We must embrace this.”

“No,” Peter said forcefully. “We are souls, lost but alive and yearning for home. Abandoned by our maker, we are at the threshold of what could be our only chance and my friends, we shall take it.”

The spirits of malice listened intently to what Peter was proposing. They waited in the quiet of the shade, keen on the instruction of the Abomination.

Peter drew a few breaths then gave them what they were wanting. “Possess. Let us inhabit those bodies that draw air. They are legion; many, many more than us. All shapes and sizes of humans, living and breathing. So take your pick.”

All souls in The Gathering, spirits of the night and The Abomination himself couldn’t, at first, process the words spoken. Amidst The Gathering, circles of five whispered amongst themselves. Heads began nodding, and some audible gasps could be heard. Defilement and his uneducated battalion of filth still were at a loss.

Then voices rang out, questioning. “But… but these bodies contain souls already!”

“No earthly shell can possess two souls!! Can they?!”

The Abomination began to cackle; deep and guttural, as though a massive, bloodthirsty hound growled as he eyed you for dinner. His minions followed suit and laughed heartily too, though clueless as to what was happening. He spoke in a gravelly voice to Defilement who was still beside him. “I knew we were in for something delicious. But this is better than what I could even imagine. I like this Peter.” They laughed and continued to watch the scene at hand.

More inquisitions came hard and fast at Peter. “If we can inhabit, what then? What if we get swallowed up and lose ourselves?”

“This will not work, just like any other plan you cook up! You can’t honestly think this will work?”

Savannah rose to the occasion, first in speech and then in action. “Listen, you fools. We are in this together!” Her voice exuded passion in its rawest form. “Are we not a tribe? Are we not one? That means you are as strong as I. And I, as you. So show me that strength! Carry hope as the blessing that it is!”

As Peter began to speak, Savannah propelled herself towards the great, old trees just behind them. She ascended slowly, up past the thick branches, surveying and listening with every ounce of her soul. Her eyes pierced the daylight, peering into another dimension but her vision found nothing.

Moving from level to level, her very face was inches from the demonic guise that hunted her. At their masters command, they remained still and without the faintest of breath, for they knew she sensed them and it was only a matter of time.

“I need your hope and your faith to the degree that this is our last chance, our truly only hope in this time. We will inhabit a living, breathing body which yes, dwells a living soul. Upon entry, I and you, must do what it takes to take ownership, to cancel out the possessing spirit. Then our bodies will be new and we live yet again.” Peter wavered at those last few words, for the outcome he himself did not know.
Buried Yet Breathing18.

October 26th, 2017

The catacomb was without season. No high temperatures, prevailing winds, inches of snow or pools of rain. The sun didn’t shine. There was no night. Little vegetation, a constant cool environment and no animals or insects. It was truly an abandoned land, forsaken yet created for a purpose.

Minutes passed like days. Days accumulated as months. Hope was failing, though the unit remained together, as they awaited fruition. They stayed connected as one, never altering the plan. And in this distant utopia, not a whisper from The Promise Keeper had come. The feeling of abandonment was great and worn like a scarf of shame by all, weighing heavy and a burden in itself.

Minute to minute, some, if not most, would question why they’ve been left for dead. Or even worse… why they were saved from eternal damnation disallowed to taste the intoxicating joys of heaven.

For others, they would remain numb, neither hoping and wishing nor dreading and despairing. They experienced nothing, as to not be let down further by holding an obviously empty hope. The rejection and abandonment couldn’t scar them any deeper, or so they worked hard at convincing themselves of this untruth. Their ears remained closed, their hearts frozen and their lips uttered no sound.

And then there was Peter. Though feeling all the same morose emotions as the others, the overriding pull he felt that there was more to this and their preservation was important. He would speak quiet words of encouragement to those connected directly to him and those within ear shot. Little did he know, the ones that heard would pass on the sentiments so that all in The Gathering could hear. These words became the life force and the glue that kept them in this plan of mass salvation from this place.

Things like, “The monotony of this island of despair weighs us down, but listen to me now: this is not our end. Neither our eternity,” would be uttered. Or, “Give in now and there is no tomorrow. This, here, now? Over in the blink of an eye and victory will be ours forever.”

The vast majority was not only clinging to each other for the sake of the plan, but for mental life itself. And in that darkest, most exiled hour, a rainbow of light swirled and connected sky to soil. It radiated warmth and it moved ever so slowly until it circumferenced the group. A great silence was upon them, immersed in this shadow a radiance. With eyes to the sky, they shot upwards, sucked into oblivion.

Time stood still as they moved beyond the speed of sound. For fear of annihilation, they clutched one another even tighter as they journeyed through the universe. Removed from the dungeon from whence they came and now launched towards anything better.
Buried Yet Breathing17.

October 24th, 2017

When all the dust settled, and weapons flung to the earth, the boys stood arm in arm, looks of pure unadulterated satisfaction on their young faces. Mother would be proud, if she wasn’t in such an extreme state of vegetation.
Days later of life in the catacomb…
With the help of Savannah, Peter was starting to become almost fully assimilated into The Gathering, which represented the group of lost souls that inhabited this desolate place. He spent long hours listening and learning from the others, of past plans of escape and about how they prayed as a unit for one to come and fix all that was wrong in their world.
Peter had many questions for them, as well. “Why are you always in clumps of five?”

“It represents family. And safety. Danger comes at one, and that one falls. Same danger comes at five, and there’s no chance of all five being taken out, and therefore we proceed”. The one speaking spoke so matter-of-factly. This was how it was.

Again, Peter questioned them. “Has no one else been drawn back to Earth? Only I?”

Several answered, as several souls were mere feet away from the conversation at hand. To say Peter held the presence of a celebrity or of even greater deity was an understatement. He was regarded as no less than savior. And there could be no greater title.

They answered almost in unison, though slightly staggered. “Only you.”

The one soul that had engaged Peter laid out his future plans, if not more so for the present. “With your presence, and in seeing how you are repeatedly drawn back through the portal, I have devised a plan. The plan.”

Peter waited for him to continue but first, the soul called out for The Gathering to manifest as a unit, for all to listen.

With every ear attuned, he proceeded. “It is a simple as it is complex. We will conjoin souls, the lot of us, and remain connected for as long as it takes. Then when The One is called back to earth, we can all transition dimensions together, as one unit, one Gathering. From there, we will fight for our freedom. We will find our true eternal destination or die trying.”

Fear gripped many in The Gathering. “But what if your plan does not work? Maybe only half of us make the journey and the other half either is left behind or destroyed in the process!”

“As one, we are one. No one shall be destroyed or left behind. We are one.”

Heads nodded and many faces of old broke into smiles of acceptance. Before anyone had time to fully process this system of thought, the soul with the plan uttered a string of words that chilled even The One Himself. “We need to make contact with The Promise Keeper, for only He can resurrect us from this place of permanence…”
Buried Yet Breathing13.

October 21st, 2017

“We are so glad to see you!” The spirit spoke in a soft tone, while touching his face.

“We thought we were abandoned here for eternity, but your presence gives us hope!” Another spirit standing behind him sung out.

“We want to know how you will bridge our divide!”

Some were very touchy, desperate for connection and beyond hopeful for a savior. Others stood back and observed, formulating questions wiser than the rest. Some talked amongst themselves, pondering his importance and what this could mean for everyone.

They were many: easily a hundred or more, and all trapped in this dismal, distant prison. Their numbers were overwhelming in abundance, as well as their inquisition. They all dressed the same (and the same as him): an off-white suit covering their entire body. And everyone, though distinguished from one another, had the appearance facially as old or elderly. The variety of voices made him question their approximate ages, as they were not all on the verge of death. He assumed his appearance looked similar.

The questioning continued, from all sides. Processing it all was not an option. And how is it they looked to him to be some savior, or the guide to salvation?! He felt the least qualified. In fact, they should be leading him! They, at least, knew this place and had time to think and devise plans. He was the new fish and in very deep water.

Amidst the clamoring, touching and verbal aggression, he willed himself to ascend off of the ground, and so it was done. With arms outstretched, the others became silenced and awaited his utterance.

For a moment, he surveyed the expansive lot of them. All of them standing, and all of them in groups of 5. He made eye contact with many of them as he spoke. “I know nothing about from where I came, and I know nothing about this place nor where I will go next. Who can I be to you, when I do not even know myself? How can I lead when I know less than to follow?”

Another murmuring overtook the canyon they inhabited. A garble of mass communication flowed like foul sewage from the geyser they called their mouths. Then a voice rang out, louder than all the others, dusting a film of silence over all. The voice sounded musty and seasoned; deep and elusive. “We have been here many eons. Not another soul has come forth from the chasm, save one, forever. This, my friend, is the sole basis of our reverence for you. You have come, or have been sent, and there is great meaning behind it. It must set us free. We all sense it.”

Cheers and bellows of agreement erupted from practically all in attendance. The very ground they hovered above vibrated with the intensity of their commitment to their apparent belief.

The apparition spoke again, this time with more passion and greater direction. “And did you not get called out of this place almost as quickly as your timely arrival? Only to be sent back? These factors awake us greatly to the knowledge that you are individual. Unique. Exclusive. And we all, including you, my friend, want to understand why.”

Without time for response, more spoke out, barely waiting for a turn. The verbal chaos consumed him, driving him away.

With great expression, on bended knee and full of passion, a timid spirit questioned, “Have you seen The Promise Keeper? Is He angry with us? Why does He abandon us?”

Another cut him off. “What is His plan for us? Are we to be incinerated as some have forewarned? Is there no cleansing and acceptance for us, ever? Why must we suffer in separation?”

Tag: gathering

Buried Yet Breathing36.

Buried Yet Breathing21.

Buried Yet Breathing18.

Buried Yet Breathing17.

Buried Yet Breathing13.