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Poisonous: A Visit To Earth (DC Angels Book 2)

Page 20

by Chas Funderburg


  “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She walked into his condo, and sat on the couch. “Did I mention that I really like your place? It looks well appointed…for a man.” Her grin teased him more out of flirtation than anything else.

  “Thank you for your feminine input,” he said, wearing a crooked, almost cynical smile.

  Poisonous looked at him with a sober expression on her face. “Before we go any further, I should mention that you may not suggest any evil to me, or accompany me when I do evil: you will be sent to Hell by Lord Yehovah’s angels. They’ll run you through with their swords, and your judgment will be swift. No second chances.” She held his hand tightly. “So please don’t do that. I’d miss you and feel awful. I’ve already seen one of my fellow lust nymphs suffer that punishment, and I don’t relish seeing it happen again.”

  “Very well, “ he answered, “So what exactly are you going to do today?”

  “I think I should convince—one way or another—some young idealistic college students to join ISIS. What do you think?”

  “If that’s what you want to do, it sounds like a capital idea.”

  She went out the door, hoping he would follow her of his own accord. She ended up on the campus of George Washington University. The Fall semester had just been underway for about three weeks, and many of the students trekked from class to class, sometimes a great distance away. She strolled from the Foggy Bottom Metro Station, down Twenty-Third Street, took a left on H Street and turned into the Mid Campus Quad/Kogan Plaza. Today, there were no special groups soliciting or performing: just students hanging out or milling about as small groups.

  “Oh, this is just lovely,” she said. “Many willing victims just waiting to be pulled into the barbaric mindset of radical Islamic Sharia Law.”

  “Oh yes,” said Snakebite. “I smell all sorts of dystopia, dissatisfaction, and disillusionment. Even though they don’t really know why, they feel like rebelling.”

  Surveying the crowd, Poisonous said, “I’ll go talk to that young lady over there. She looked at a young gentleman sitting in the Gazebo, and said nothing.

  Snakebite took her hint, and walked towards the young man.

  She walked towards the girl, and casually sat down next to her on a bench. The girl had a textbook about Philosophy open to somewhere in the middle, where it discussed Middle Eastern Philosophy. Seeing her chance, Poisonous said, “Are you interested in Middle Eastern Philosophy?”

  “I don’t know, exactly. I do know that capitalism is highly overrated, and even in Democracies, the main objective is to accumulate wealth, and exploit countries for their resources, even when many of the people in those countries are very poor. It seems that many countries in the Old World are being mercilessly manipulated.”

  “Would you like to do something about that yourself? I think I could take you to someone who might give you a different perspective on life. Would you be willing to at least listen to him?”

  “At this point, I’ll try anything.”

  “Great! Come with me and my friend over there, and we’ll visit my friend, who will open you up to all sorts of ways of thinking that are not that of the Western world, but of a simpler, more honest way of life.”

  “Okay.”

  “My name’s Perri, by the way.”

  “I’m Caitlin.”

  “Nice to meet you Caitlin.”

  Snakebite walked up to her and said, “This fellow wants to know more about ancient Middle Eastern culture. He says, Capitalism has ruined this country.”

  She smiled and said, “Well, come with us. Caitlin feels the same way.” She called a TNC car, and all four proceed to the Islamic Center in the Embassy Row corridor. When they arrived, Poisonous got out of the car, and knew the reception she’d get, so she prepared in advance to ‘convince’ the guard to simply let them in. She walked in first, and met the same guard she had seen twice before. Before he could say a word, her eyes burned bright red. You will let me and my party visit Mr. Quraishi right away.

  “Are you here to see Mr. Quraishi?”

  “Yes, we are,” she said, feeling her patience dwindle by the moment.

  “I will tell him you are here.”

  “Also tell him we have two young people interested about talking to him about Islam.”

  “Very well.” The guard buzzed Quraishi’s extension, and explained the visitors.

  “Please,” he said, “Mr. Quraishi will see you now.”

  “I know where his office, is, thank you.”

  Having gotten the ‘formalities’ dispensed with, they headed towards Hammad Quraishi’s office, and knocked on the door. “As-salaam ‘alaykum.”

  “Wa ‘alaykum salaam,” he answered. “Please; come in and have a seat.”

  “As you can see, Mr. Quraishi, we have brought two young people who are interested in hearing your philosophies.”

  “Ah. Very good,” said Quraishi. Looking at the two young people, he said, “Please, friends: have a seat in front of my desk. I am sure Ms. Sāmm and her escort may leave. They know you are in good hands.”

  “Let us know how everything works out,” she said, and she and Snakebite left.

  The TNC car dropped Poisonous and Snakebite off in front of his condo.

  “Shall we?” Snakebite asked.

  “Oh, yes. We shall,” she answered.

  In the apartment, Snakebite said, “You’re a formidable lady. I like the way you handle things. But I would like to see your fighting skills. Why don’t we do battle? I’m a little rusty – I haven’t sparred with any other demons in a long while.”

  “I’m up for that,” she said.

  “Great. May the better demon win.”

  Transforming back to the demon, her eyes turned bright red with fury—she couldn’t change another demon’s mind—so she lunged at Snakebite with all her strength. Fangs bared, claws and tentacles outstretched and wrapped around his arms and legs, she landed on the man, who quickly turned into a large saw-scaled viper, who slithered out of her tentacles, and slid away fast. His version of the snake was as long and tall as he was, and many times more deadly. His venom was even stronger than a female saw-scaled viper. Snakebite coiled and sprang towards her, inflicting her with a deep bite and a strong amount of venom.

  In retaliation, she sank her fangs and claws into Snakebite, while wrapping her tentacles around him like a boa constrictor suffocating its prey, and injected him with her deadly poison. It didn’t kill him, or even stop him. Finished biting and clawing him, she picked him up and threw him against the stone wall in Snakebite’s apartment. With the wind knocked out of him, he lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath. Poisonous used this opportunity to launch another attack, and this time, her fangs sunk deep into his head, she twirled him around with her head and fangs, and threw him again against the stone wall again.

  This time, however, he did not lie on the floor; he immediately lunged at her with lightning speed, sunk his fangs into the tender parts of her body, and shook his head, which tore her flesh. She howled in pain, then energized by seething fury, took his head, twirled him around several hundred times, at a speed of twelve hundred revolutions per minute, and threw him out the window. Flying through the air unseen to the human eye, he flailed from lack of balance, and landed about five miles away, in a Park in Montgomery County.

  Poisonous could hardly contain herself. “Crazy male thinks he can outdo me. No one challenges Poisonous and wins.” She laughed, cackled and gloated in her victory. About five minutes later, a bedraggled and wobbly Snakebite landed in his apartment.

  “So you didn’t think I could fight well, did you?” she taunted.

  He turned back into Sam, steadied himself and sat down.

  “I concede. You are definitely the better fighter. As the saying goes, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’”

  “Do you want to go another round?” she asked, face emotionless as stone.

  “Yes; but not in a fight. I believe another saying goes,
‘Make love, not war.’”

  He walked towards her with that gleam in his eye.

  “Really, Snakebite? You want to make love to me? Well at least let me change—”

  “No, Poisonous. I want you to stay as you are. I’m very attracted to the demon that just bested me.”

  “But…but…”

  Snakebite as Sam put his finger to her lips, and said, “Shhhh…”

  “Sam…”

  Sam continued kissing her, and made her weak in the knees, her tentacles undulating faster.

  “Oh, Sam…,” she managed. “Oh, Sam…Mmmm…”

  Later, sitting on his couch and drinking cocktails, Sam said, “I must admit: your venom reminds me a lot of a good Chardonnay: lightly oaked, crisp and dry with notes of peach, citrus and honeysuckle, and a touch of carbonation. I find it makes me mellow, indeed.”

  At first Poisonous laughed. “Oh, Sam. You’re so silly.” But she pondered what he said for a while, and finally said, “You know; your venom reminds me of a good Cabernet Sauvignon: fruit notes of black cherry, black currant and blackberry; spice notes of black pepper, tobacco, licorice, vanilla and violet. All aged to perfection in Oak for a year or so.”

  The both looked each other and broke out laughing. Finally she said, “Here’s a toast to your venom.”

  “And likewise to yours,” Sam replied.

  * * *

  Wednesday, September 17th

  Mahmud Ghannam left the Islamic Center and began his twenty plus minute walk to the Woodley Park/Zoo Metro Station. He thought of many things as he walked, but mostly about how an uneasy dissatisfaction had plagued him of late. He had lost faith in Sharia Law, especially the kind that demanded the use and abuse of anybody who didn’t agree with it. He wasn’t too keen on the Western Way of life, either. It seemed so complicated: with all the freedoms came lewd and hedonistic behavior, and everyone striving for power and wealth. What he really wanted was to be at peace in his heart, but he didn’t know how.

  However, he had noticed in recent days, that his friend, Abdullah Salah had a strong sense of peace in his demeanor. He had to talk to him, and find out what had changed in him. Perhaps, he could show him as well how to have this peace.

  He arrived at his modest home in Takoma Park, Maryland, and walked in, greeted by his wife. “You know, Baseera, I am wondering a lot lately how to find peace. Our Muslim ways are good, but some radical Islamists have made their version of Sharia Law barbaric; I can’t live with the guilt I feel for all the needless killing of enemies and our own alike, and the raping of women. There must be a better way.”

  “You will find it, my husband. Allah will show you,” said Baseera, hugging him and kissing him with the warmth a woman has for her husband.

  “I will call Abdullah. He seems to have found peace. Perhaps he can enlighten me as well.”

  “Do as your heart tells you, my husband,” said Baseera.

  “Thank you, Baseera. You are a good wife. I love you.”

  Baseera blushed. “You embarrass me, husband. Arab women are not often told they are loved.”

  “Well, I have told you,” he said, hugging her, and giving her a kiss. Baseera blushed all the harder. Smiling, he went to the den and called Abdullah on the phone.

  “As-salaam ‘alaykum, my friend. All is well with you?”

  “Wa ‘alaykum salaam,” Abdullah answered. “I am well. What is on your heart?”

  “I am troubled,” he said. “I am not at peace: I can’t seem to find satisfaction in Sharia Law or the Western way of life. Is there some wisdom or advice you can give me?”

  “I tell you what: meet me at the Kabob restaurant near the McPherson Square train stop. We will discuss these matters in more detail, and have a bite to eat as well.”

  * * *

  Thursday, September 18th

  Mahmud Ghannam travelled on the Red Line to Metro Center, transferred to the Blue/Orange/Silver line and got off at the McPherson Square station. Two blocks later, he walked into the restaurant. Abdullah Salah waited for him at a table in the corner.

  “Why don’t we order lunch first, and then we can get down to business,” said Abdullah.

  After ordering, they sat down to eat, and Abdullah said, “So you have questions about finding peace, do you?”

  “Yes; very much so. I feel lost and like I’m drifting, going nowhere. I really want to find the peace you seem to have found.”

  “Well, my son, it is very simple: Allah sent his son to Earth to die for us and pay the price for our sins. No other prophet can claim to have done this. The difference is, that Prophet Yasū‘ is the true Son of God. As it says about Yasū‘ in the Jewish Bible in the book of the Apostle John, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’ It also states in the Book of Apostle John that, ‘…God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.’ You see, my son, only Allah can forgive us of our inability to escape wrongdoing. So He sent his son, Prophet Yasū‘, who is the son of Allah, and therefore, a Deity like Allah. And only a God is able to forgive all of our sins, and cleanse us of all unrighteousness.”

  “I do not completely understand this, but I would like to learn more,” he said.

  “I tell you what: why don’t you come with me to the temple on Massachusetts Avenue on Aal'ahad, and we shall learn more.”

  Mahmud hesitated at first; the idea of being a blasphemer who might be killed rang loudly in his thoughts. At last, he said, “Very well. I will meet you there.”

  * * *

  Sunday, September 21st

  That Aal'ahad or Sunday, Mahmud met Abdullah at the door to the temple. His wife had come along as well, mostly out of curiosity of this strange idea that Prophet Yasū‘ was the son of Allah.

  “Hello, Abdullah. My wife and I are here to learn more about Prophet Yasū‘. I explained to her what you told me, and she is curious too.”

  “Well, blessings be to Allah: this is most propitious. Come; follow me and I will introduce you to my friends, Evie and her friend Carlo.”

  He followed Abdullah to a row in the front of the church, and said, “Evie; Carlo: I want you to meet my friend Mahmud and his wife, Baseera. They are very interested in learning more about salvation through the Prophet Jesus, or Yasū‘, as we call him.”

  “This is great,” said Carlo, shaking his hand. “I believe that Allah will open your eyes, and show you how much he loves and cares for you.”

  “It’s good to see you here, Baseera,” said Evie. “Abdullah’s wife has not come yet, because she is afraid of being found out as a Christian, and being put to death.”

  “Yes,” said Abdullah, “but Lord Allah will protect us. Even if we die, we will not have died in vain.”

  They all sat down, and listened to the sermon, which was about the Grace of God, by which all are redeemed. At the end, Mahmud said to Carlo, “So Allah shows us him mercy, by not letting us spend an eternity in death. He shows his grace by letting us partake of a relationship with Him.”

  “That’s right,” said Carlo. “God is very gracious to us.”

  “I tell you what,” said Evie. “Why don’t the three of you—and your wife, Abdullah, if you can convince Safiya to overcome her fear—come to my condo this afternoon, and we’ll all pray that Mahmud, his wife Baseera, and your wife, Safiya will come to know Lord Allah and gain eternal life.”

  “That sounds very good,” he said, looking at his wife. “You know, Baseera, I believe I now understand where true peace comes from.”

  * * *

  Poisonous returned from spending time with Sam, and walked towards the condo. The closer she got, the more she felt the power of The Light, which contained even stronger pow
er than before. She wanted with all her strength to turn and run, but the power of The Light drew her with irresistible force, and she found herself walking into the condo with the presence of The Light giving her peace and courage.

  “Perri!” exclaimed Evie, full of excitement. “Abdullah’s wife, Safiya, his friend Mahmud and Mahmud’s wife, Baseera, have given their lives and hearts to Jesus, the Lamb. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “Yes. That’s very wonderful. They will no longer be bound by death and Lucifer, but will be overcomers by the grace of The Lamb, and Father Yehovah.” Unabashed tears streamed down her face. “Evie; help me. I’m feeling hope even stronger than when Abdullah gave his heart to the Lamb. What am I to do?”

  “Why don’t we all pray for you?” said Evie. “You might find that the hope you are feeling is real.”

  “I’m very scared,” she said. “I’ve never known hope before. Is it truly something I can have?”

  ‘Yes, it is,” Safiya said softly. “You must just open your heart to Allah’s love, and you will find strength and not fear.”

  Strong trembling shook her body to its core, and try as she might, she couldn’t move. Love powerfully shone on her, and she couldn’t resist it.”

  “Would you like to talk to Father Yehovah,” asked Evie, gentleness in her voice.

  ‘I…I can’t. I’m too afraid that Lucifer will hunt me down.”

  “You know,” said Abdullah, “it says in the Word of Allah, ‘Dear ones, you are of God and you belong to Him and have already overcome the agents of the evil one; because He who is in you is greater than Lucifer who is in the world of sinful mankind.’You see, the Enemy cannot touch you when you are filled with the Spirit of God.”

  “That is very wonderful, but I must go,” she said, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you for your encouragement.” The she got up and ran to her bedroom, fell to her knees, and sobbed. “Lord Yehovah; why are you after me? I am evil, and I don’t deserve your love.”

 

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