by Lee Carroll
“Orange, tell me how to fight!” Mike was distressed.
“I did.” He heard the encouraging voice of Orange again. “You are ready, Michael Thomas of Pure Intent. You are ready.”
“What should I do?” cried Mike to the walls of the canyon.
Silence. Then, he distinguished the voice of Blue.
“Remember, Michael Thomas, things may not be as they seem!”
The words rang out like they never had before. They carried admonishment, warning, and advice that might be needed right now! The entire entourage of angels were there with him. With power like that, thought Mike, there must be something really scary ahead.
Mike was nervous. He knew that he didn’t actually have battle skills, and yet the angels were telling him that he did. He had to trust them, and after all, what choice did he have now? He was there, at the front line. He looked around him again and nodded sarcastically. No way of escape, he thought. Whatever or whoever was waiting for him had chosen a good place to attack. The walls were too high to climb, and retreat would only be possible within a narrow channel—an easy chase. Everything had been thought of. At least he knew where IT was, and there would be no surprise.
The more he thought about it all, the more confident he became about the ordeal ahead. His new vibration was helping out, and he knew it. He began to feel a peace that he knew wasn’t logical, but spiritual. He was beginning to feel enabled, even though he didn’t exactly know in advance what he would be facing, or how he would deal with it. That was appropriate, Mike thought. After all, this is the way of this place. He analyzed it. The future is not available to me, but somehow it has already happened in the mind of God.Therefore, the solution to this situation has already been revealed.I’m just not privy to it yet. Like before, I’ll know when I get there. I have the knowledge and the power, and this is my land. I have the home advantage!
“Okay,” Mike spoke out loud. “I’ve been beaten up by a storm; stomped on by an angel; lost all my precious belongings; my emotions have been subjected to wringer after wringer; my biology has been lifted and altered; and I’ve had my heart wrenched out, examined, and put back wet. What else is there? I have the tools. I am ready.” Mike thought for a moment, then added, “I just wish I knew how to fight!” He sighed and looked in the direction of the upcoming challenge.
Mike decided to do something that a few weeks ago would have seemed silly and ridiculous. He knelt and held a small ceremony over what was about to happen. He touched each piece of battle equipment and named its purpose. He drilled himself with the things Orange had taught him about balance. He spent almost 20 minutes in gratitude that he had been chosen to battle whatever it was around the corner. He honored the land and his very existence. He acknowledged his place in the family of Spirit; then Michael Thomas arose, ready for battle—as ready as he could be, anyway.
Mike started forward again. He rounded the pathway that exposed the long distance ahead. The sharp walls of the canyon made the path look like a dark, fateful tunnel of doom. He knew IT was ahead. The map had clearly shown him so. Ordinarily this entire episode would be calling for Michael’s body to go into shock. All his fear alarms would have been sounding, and he would have been a shaking mass. After all, he was just a salesman, not a warrior preparing to meet some huge dark ghoul! Instead, though, his senses were alert, and he was filled with commitment, not fear. All his vibratory powers and new gifts were starting to “kick in.” His intuition was king, and with each step, he “listened” to it, knowing that it would not fail him.
Nothing.
Then, motion to the left!
Michael spun quickly and saw a large tree to the side of the path about 30 yards away. Where had the motion been? Drat this darkness in the middle of the day! Is this all part of the test?Why hasn’t Spirit provided more light?
The motion was there again! Mike saw that it came from just under the branches of the tree.
“WHO IS IT? COME OUT!” Mike’s voice was empowered and commanding. “IF YOU DON’T, I’M COMING IN!” He stood waiting, his every cell alert.
Slowly, a normal-looking man emerged and stopped just under the outer branches. He was dressed like a farmer, except that his feet were bare. He held up his hands in a pushing motion with his palms turned toward Mike. He spoke.
“Mike, please don’t hurt me! I’ll come out.” The man slowly materialized from under the tree and walked toward Mike. As he came into clearer view, Mike thought he recognized the walk. No! It couldn’t be! Now the man’s face was clearly recognizable.
“DAD?” Michael’s father gradually walked up to the path and stood not six feet from Mike. Mike swore in his mind that he could smell the familiar odor of the farm coming from the man.
“Yes, son. It’s me. Please don’t hurt me.” Mike wasn’t a fool. He knew that this could all be deception. After all, things are not always as they seem. The man who appeared to be his father could actually be something else; in fact, the odds were highly in favor of it. He continued his watchfulness and was alert to a trick as he spoke.
“Sir, you are standing right where I was told an enemy is supposed to be. Don’t come any closer.”
“I know, Mike. It’s just up ahead, son. You are being duped! The thing waiting for you is going to capture your very soul. All this is wrong. Please, you must believe me!” Mike still didn’t buy it.
“What are you doing here?”
“By the grace of God, I am here to stop you before it is too late. I was allowed to return to this place to warn you! I have been waiting here for days, knowing that eventually you would come to this spot. All who venture forward will be defeated by the beast! Many have come this way, and all have died. This is an evil land. You are being tricked!”
Mike still didn’t believe that this was his father. After all, it was just a bit too convenient.
“Please forgive me, Father, but I need proof. Tell me what my childhood nickname was.”
The man spoke instantly. “Mykee-Wykee.”
Mike winced at the truth. “What happened in Mr. Connell’s barn in 1964?”
“A giant party celebrating the birth of twins, whom he named Sarah and Helen.”
Mike was examining everything this man told him with a fine-tooth comb. The voice and body were perfect. He continued by asking the man to tell the story of Michael’s childhood—schools, friends, clothing, and events. As both men stood facing each other, his father droned on for half an hour, relating every part of Mike’s past perfectly and accurately. Slowly, Michael begin to relax. This man knew everything. He really was there. No evil entity could have memorized things known only to Mike. Mike’s intuition was still on “alarm,” but this really was his dad! His father was starting to sweat.
“Father, what’s going on? I still don’t understand.”
“Michael, I love you so! Right now you are lying in a hospital bed with grave injuries to your neck. Remember? Surely you have to remember what happened in your apartment?You have been floating ever since—in a coma, susceptible to the workings of the devil himself. All this...” Michael’s father swept his hand around indicating the surrounding mountains. “... is a fairyland. It’s fake! Nothing here is real. Everything you have been shown and all the cute-colored fairy houses are nothing but a trick to take away your soul!” The man’s breathing was becoming labored.
Mike knew that what he father was telling him couldn’t be so. It was so confusing! He knew who he was and what he had experienced, yet his father’s words seemed to ring with authority. And this man knew so much! Why was his father suffering health problems as he stood there?Wasn’t he a spirit himself? After all, he was dead and had come from the other side. He shouldn’t be having physical problems.
“Father, are you okay?”
“Yes, son, but I can’t stay much longer. This place is evil, and I am from a heavenly place. The two don’t mix, you know.”
“So I’ve been told,” Mike said.
“Mike, come with me. There�
��s a heavenly portal under the tree. I can take you back. You can regain consciousness back on Earth and come out of the coma. It will save your life and your soul. Please come with me!” The man was growing weaker by the moment, and Mike thought he saw a blurring of the image in front of him.
Mike was torn with indecision. He knew better. Everything in his body told him better, yet here was his trusted father with a very believable story. What if this land was a fake? NO. It wasn’t. Mike’s inner being knew it. He wanted to try one more thing. What was the name? He had memorized it. He remembered and instantly spoke it.
“Anneehu!” Mike stared at his father, and the man stared back.
“What, son?”
“Anneehu!” Mike said again, slowly backing away.
“Is that some fairy word you learned here, boy?” The man was obviously nervous. His clothing was becoming wet with sweat.
Mike stood very still. Chills crept up the back of his spine. His father had never called him “boy.” Mike stood prepared. This was it. He felt the armor on his body begin to vibrate. The shield on his back was beginning to oscillate on its hook, as if it wanted off. He gave the appropriate answer.
“No, sir. Anneehu is your heavenly name, and you didn’t know it.”
The two figures stared at each other in a standoff that seemed to last an eternity, but which, in actuality, was only a few seconds. The game was up. The deception hadn’t been good enough, and IT was unable to hold the energy to preserve it. IT was ready to fight.
“ENOUGH!” With a shout that had the volume of ten men, the figure that had been Mike’s father began to change its form completely. Gradually, the sweating farmer transformed into a huge, menacing, ghoulish shape. Mike traveled backward as IT grew, alert and ready. IT was at least 15 feet tall, with fearsome red eyes. ITs mottled wart-covered skin was an ugly green; the creature looked as though IT hadn’t washed in eons. IT had enormous hands with large, dirty fingernails and arms that were far too long for ITs symmetry—and IT smelled! Short, stubby legs added to the oddness of ITs appearance, but Mike knew just how swift IT could be. He had seen IT many times as a blur behind him. The distance between Mike and the hideous creature had grown to about 20 feet, and he was going to keep it that way for a while, perhaps allow even a bit more space between them.
Mike was repulsed by the thing unfolding before him. IT was neither human nor beast. IT was unnatural and didn’t belong in any dimension that Mike had ever been in. The stench was unbelievable! The face on the enormous bald head was constantly changing from one horror to another. When IT opened ITs mouth, Mike could see ITs large, razor-sharp teeth. When IT closed ITs mouth, the fearsome cavity disappeared into the ugly mass of warts and skin. ITs bulbous nose obviously didn’t work, or IT couldn’t have lived with itself. Everything disgusting and repulsive that a human could imagine was embodied by this creature. Was it real, or was it illusion? Mike didn’t know. Whatever else it might be, IT was a shocking revelation of the energy of old things and ways. IT represented the antithesis of peace and love, and IT stank of death. The hatred and viciousness of ITs consciousness was overwhelming. IT looked at Mike with contempt, as if he were an ant about to be smashed without thought or remorse. The creature was driven by loathing for Mike’s world. IT projected that energy directly at Mike, who had become the focus of ITs wrath.
Mike could barely stand to look at IT. He was repulsed and revolted. He felt the creature’s projected hatred. But when he realized that he was reacting to the creature in a way that IT wanted him to react, he stifled the waves of nausea. Not everything is as it seems, Mike repeated to himself. He suddenly realized that IT was showing off—creating the illusion of a fiend, a trollish ogre just for effect.
Mike’s body responded to the situation instinctively. The vibratory level of his new being was on full alert. Like a seasoned warrior, a veteran of numerous battles, Mike felt ready for any move from the green-skinned horror in front of him. Although his body hummed with strength and vitality, Mike remained motionless. His sword began to vibrate. He could hear it! The subtle hum of the F note was starting to sing. Still, Mike did nothing. His curiosity was too great. He had to know more. Now, it was Mike’s turn for deception.
“You’re so big!” Mike feigned fear. He cowered and raised his arms defensively to cover his face. He made his voice shake convincingly. “You’re the real beast—here to take my soul?”
Folds of green skin and warts parted as the creature opened ITs mouth cavity to speak. Mike heard ITs real voice for the first time.
“So weak!” the thing gloated. “I knew it.” ITs voice was deep and menacing. IT reminded Mike of something out of a bad horror movie.
“Please! I’ll do whatever you want,” Mike squeaked. “Do you want me to go to the tree? To the portal?” Mike felt his sword beginning to jump up and down in its sheath. He hoped the creature wouldn’t notice the metallic noise.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m here to kill you.” If it were possible, the thing seemed to be getting even bigger! Mike realized that IT probably had the ability to be any size IT wanted.
“Who are you?” Mike shrieked. He hoped his acting wasn’t too clumsy, but the thing seemed to believe him completely. What an ego IT had!
“I’m the part of you, Mykee-Wykee, that’s the real Mike Thomas!” the creature boasted. “I’m the strong part! Take a look at your power! I’m the essence of your intellect and the basis of your logic. Taking on the appearance of your father may have been just a disguise, but the words were true, boy. You are indeed lying in a hospital bed in a coma, and I’m here to get you out of this pretend land of nonsense entities and good witches and bring you back to real life. To get you out of there, I have to destroy the ridiculous pixie spirit you have become!”
Mike realized that at one level what the ghoulish thing was telling him was accurate. IT really was part of Mike; it was a part he wanted put away forever—an old, ugly part that he recognized and hoped no one would ever see. He shuddered and crouched a bit more. Don’t overdo it, said a voice inside.
“And you have to kill me?” His sword was violently rattling against the scabbard now, but Mike realized that the noise added to the deception that he was shaking with fear.
“Figuratively, yes. Your demise in this fairyland of idiocy will end your self-deception and bring you squarely back to the real world. I have been aware of your silliness from the moment you entered the gate, and thankfully was able to slip in after you. I have been trying to bring you back to reality ever since.” The thing was starting to move toward him.
“Am I that bad?” Keep IT talking, Mike thought. Keep shaking, sword! He sent his thoughts to his weapon. It’s good for the deception.
“In your physical weakness, you have embraced their claptrap, their silly drivel. Nothing here is real, boy. You have been so tricked by the illusions here that I will have to completely destroy this part of you to save your mind and your soul. I detest everything you have become!”
Mike had to act fast. “Before you kill me, can you prove what you are saying is real? If you are logic and intellect, then help me see the logic of it!”Mike knew that this ugly thing wasn’t going to wait much longer, but by appealing to its monstrous ego, he thought he could buy a little more time. Mike cowered some more and shook convincingly. His vibrating sword helped the image.
“Of course I can.” IT knew IT was in control, and IT was about to squash this New Age fairyland forever. IT hated this land of make-believe. IT represented the real world, where there were no pathetic weaklings like Michael Thomas. IT embraced logic and pragmatism, a system of beliefs based on previous experience and substantiated by reputable men of history and science.
The creature rose to full height and announced:
“THE ONE WHO IS CORRECT HERE HAS ABSOLUTE POWER. LOGIC AND REASON REPRESENT THE TRUTH!THAT’S WHY I CAN EXIST IN THIS INSUBSTANTIAL WORLD—BECAUSE I AM TRUTH. NOTHING HERE HAS POWER OVER ME!” IT let out a roar that hurt Mike’s ears, a
nd actually seem to bend the grass around Mike’s feet, instantly turning it greenish brown—so that it matched the horrible creature’s skin.
“Really?” Mike asked, smirking at the beast. He dropped his act and stood up to full height.
“Then let the proof begin!” shouted Mike.
Mike never realized that he could move so fast. With expert balance and a swiftness practiced in the house of Orange, he found himself on a 6-foot-high rock, not 15 feet from the beast. He had actually advanced on the monster! His sword literally leaped from its scabbard and began to sing the fundamental F note with accompanying harmonics as it found itself firmly in Mike’s grasp. It was an eerie sound, but full of strength and promise. Michael held the sword, not pointing toward the creature, but pointing skyward. Mike also found that he held the shield in his left hand. Somehow, as he made his lightning move to the rock, the shield had found his hand. He now held it aloft, its ornate silver inlay facing the beast. Michael Thomas, the warrior, stood ready.
To say that the creature was taken by surprise would have been an understatement. IT looked at the situation. Suddenly, the frivolous-minded, easily frightened prey had become a threat, and it was doing unexpected things. Was the boy going to attack? How foolish, IT thought. IT would swat this upstart like an irritating gnat; this would be almost too easy now.
Mike’s proximity made it necessary for the creature to back up in order to use ITs long, monstrous arms. IT drew back, clenching ITs powerful fingers into huge fists, and prepared to attack.
As the creature positioned itself for the onslaught, Mike’s voice rang out: “BEHOLD THE SWORD OF TRUTH. LET IT DETERMINE WHO HAS THE POWER.”
Mike had no sooner finished speaking when the beast attacked.
