by Nate Allen
already done more than enough for me. No matter how hard this final walk is and how strong the temptation becomes, I have to do it alone. I have to pay back at least a microscopic fraction of what Jesus has given to me. And my faithfulness to Him cannot be a product of Him, it cannot be strengthened by His hand. Just as my salvation ultimately came from my choosing, obedience to my Lord has to come from nothing else but me.
Maybe that’s foolish. I’m on the cusp of Hell itself and I refuse to call upon the strength within me? One moment in my life has to fully glorify Him from my own doing. In order for me to ever truly belong in Heaven, I have to do this alone.
5
This hallway has suddenly turned cold. The worms all around me were distant and aimless; now they are moving toward me. It’s as if a protective shield has fallen away from me and everything is now reacting to it.
“If you are all alone, Andrew,” I hear voices rising up all around me. “Our power can fully manifest. Do you really think we are worms? What a foolish man you are to think that you can do this alone.”
I try to walk away from the gathering, but the struggle is immediate. The sickness passing over me is familiar, nearly the same kind that I experienced when I first arrived in this counterfeit.
“Alone and powerless.” The worms are beginning to bow out individually and tear as something much bigger starts to grow from them. “We know your fears, Andrew. We helped orchestrate them.” Tall, dark figures are stretching forth from the slime and torn remains of the worms on the carpet floor. They are made up of darkness and fill the hallway with a near countless amount of human shaped beings. Except, the little bit of light in the hallway doesn’t lay over them as it does me. Instead, as soon as it touches them, it dies, and like a body quickly pulled under once introduced to quick sand, any sense of light disappears, leaving only a dim streak to slowly be consumed by creatures of pure darkness.
With every passing moment, the light that remains begins to disappear. And I find where I need to go is the only place unaffected.
Say My name, Andrew. I know Jesus’ voice immediately. Watch what happens when you do.
The creatures of darkness are continuing to stretch, many now at least seven feet tall. They loom over me like they would only have to look down to suck me in.
I say His name. And immediately, with the sound of an overlapping shriek, the creatures flee back toward the stairway.
6
For the first time since being here, the struggle is gone. And despite the fact that I’m standing in near pure darkness, the lighting up ahead is enough to lead me forward.
You know very little about your position, Andrew. Jesus says quietly, as I begin to walk forward. You fear that the temptation will be too strong. You fear that old weaknesses will creep back up and ruin you. But, that’s only possible if you forget that you are a new creation. Your past is a clean slate. Your weaknesses no longer exist and no longer have any power to control you. I died so that you could live. Never forget this.
His voice carries with it the sound of waves, which makes me miss home more than I can explain. Even with His full presence lacking, simply hearing His voice again brings my focus back into perspective. It sharpens the images I have of Heaven instead of my mind continuing to downplay my time there.
Much like a breeze on a hot day, His voice is a reminder of who I am. Or maybe it’s the first clear indication. Leaving Heaven I knew very little about the details attached to me. I only knew I needed saving and finally reached out to my Savior. But, I know very little about holiness. I know very little about His word and what He promises. Did I even know that I was a new creation?
What’s strange is that I find it easier to adapt to the environment and rules of the counterfeit than those of Heaven, because I know darkness much more than light. I understand the foundation of Heaven but not much more than that. And because of it, I am ignorant to my position and the power I have been given. And despite what Jesus says, the old me still speaks because it wanted to take credit for this entire journey. It wanted to think that the creatures of this world were powerless because of my presence. Even now, the selfishness still lives in me. Even now, I am arrogant enough to think that I’ve been doing this on my own.
The truth is something much different. When I was all alone, I wasn’t able to take a step forward as pure and powerful darkness grew all around me. Nothing I’ve done here has been on my own. Nothing. And the fact that I ever thought it was shows how much I have to learn.
Then again, maybe I was meant to enter this world ignorant of my position, so that I would dig down deep inside of myself to prepare for what I’m going to say to Evan. And maybe I’ve been placed in an environment lacking the presence of God to solidify my faith in Him. In my counterfeit, I accepted Jesus and the tour of Heaven followed immediately after. There was no confusion, no struggle. I made a decision and was immediately rewarded for it. But, even as I made the decision, it was done out of desperation. It was an aimless call into the wilderness, a cry for help to a hypothetical: if God existed, what was I losing? And with it, how much more was I gaining? It wasn’t done out of pure belief, but something small and nagging, something I could no longer deny.
Even though my mission is exposure, there is more than one reason why I was placed in a counterfeit so close to Hell. I was meant to walk on the edge of damnation, not only to see what I narrowly escaped, but to bring common ground to Evan. D said that Evan has never had true exposure. And in many ways that was true of my life as well. I knew the story of Jesus better than most. I had picked it apart and laughed at every little speck. I knew the scientifically incorrect details, the unbelievable miracles, and the teachings Jesus had given. And throughout my life, even though people tried to tell me about Him and His saving message, I only heard white noise. I only heard the crazy ramblings of the deluded and the pathetic. Knowing the story of Jesus never meant anything to me, because I had already denied it. I wasn’t truly exposed until meeting the man at the cabin. True exposure is about a lasting effect, about reaching someone in their deepest need instead of speaking to the surface.
And because I know what true exposure feels like, I know I can offer it to Evan. When it comes down to it, what Jesus did means nothing if the message can never pierce the surface. And I know there are only two surfaces I will find with Evan. He will either be a man desperate for hope or someone lost enough to think that he’s doing the right thing. I can speak to either because I was a man stuck in between both.
7
The deplorable details attached to Evan are just that. He is a man created by orchestrated misery, where D was able to plan out his pain and slowly turn him into a monster. The details are irrelevant. The things he does to “women” doesn’t matter. Even if this was real life, and the women he killed weren’t creatures in costumes, the details are irrelevant. He is no less deserving of Jesus’ love than anyone else. And regardless of his terrible actions, it would be offered to him just the same.
My steps are quick as I pull the timer out of my left pocket: 00 D 9 H 46 M 13 S. The numbers glow in the dark. I put it back in my pocket as I begin to run. I don’t know what I am going to find when I get to his room. And because the rules of the counterfeit mirror those found in a dream, the time that remains could drain much faster. Nine hours in real life could be only be a few hours here. I am unsure of anything specific in this world. And because of it, I cannot base a man’s eternity on rules I don’t understand.
My pace is increasing steadily. But, the lit end of the hallway never seems to get closer. As I pass by doors on both sides of me, they open. It’s as if all of Hell is behind me, pursuing from a distance. They know they can’t touch me. They know they can’t get near, but they are coming as close as they can. And the feeling of emptiness following behind me is undeniable.
Though I’ve felt the presence of darkness as powerful and all consuming many times in this counterfeit, I think it’s nothing more than a dog showing its teeth, because at the very
center of these creatures, they are made up of nothing. And that is their true character. They can consume a fallen soul as food; they can inflict eternal misery and pain. But, they exist to reduce God’s creation into their own state: eternally empty.
To say the atmosphere behind me is cold does not begin to describe it. Cold is still an identity. What’s behind me is nothing. Nothing in its most basic form. I had always assumed that Hell, if it existed, was torture because of the things it held. But, after experiencing true fullness found in The Father’s presence, absolute emptiness is the worst torture imaginable.
Humans were created to be full of their Creator. And I know that because only in His presence was I finally filled. He is fullness; they are emptiness. He is light; they are utter darkness. Damnation is not about physical torment but about eternal separation from fullness. And fullness is the only thing we truly crave.
8
Everything I pass by is swallowed up by the emptiness following behind me. I haven’t looked back to see the damage. I can only focus on where I have to go. Except, it feels like I’m running in place, because the light up ahead never seems to get any closer.
Something drops into my mind suddenly. From nowhere a thought has formed and
