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The era of television had grown so technical. All the shows were filled with special effects, science fiction and anything else the vivid imagination of man could come up with. The rich were rich in excess and the poor were, well let’s just say they were poor. To walk the streets thing seem normal enough, if anything in the world could be called normal anymore. The Bible was fulfilling itself at alarming proportions and the Church was nowhere near the place of real preparedness for the on sloth of evil that was both subtly and blatantly being released in the earth. There were ministries that were addressing the issues but there we so many Christian that were just content with the gift of salvation until they were paralyzed in that place. Prayer had been taken out of almost every arena except the actual places of worship and the sense of right was so obscured until the deceiver was being hailed for his accomplishment, while Christ was being placed further and further on the back burner of the world view.
Living in such a time only seemed scary to those who really had an ear to hear what God’s Spirit was speaking and those who cared enough about the word to actually believe it enough to live it.


In a small metropolitan city in Georgia, hidden in the place where no one was looking, there had risen an evil that was right under the noise of everyone.

It was around the year 2060 and contrary to all the imaginations of the past movie makers, there were no flying cars, no computers that put on your cloths and made your meals. The people weren’t wearing metallic garments and living in computer driven homes, well not all of them anyway. Don’t let the lack of these things by any means lead you to believe that the world had not continued to advance in the areas of technology and everything else; but it wasn’t the world of Startek. The rapture hadn’t happened and the beast had not put his mark on the people yet. Well not the mark the world was blindly expecting. The Church was still flourishing, people were still marrying and giving to be married; and life was going well on the outside.

I was about fifteen years old and I’d been on punishment for what seemed like forever. My father had not let me watch TV in a year, except when we went to visit someone and they happened to be watching it in their home (that was rare). I was getting something to snack on out of the kitchen when I heard my parents taking about people going missing. I had always been fascinated with a good mystery. I listened as they spoke of the escalating number of missing person’s reports that had been file with the police in our city and many surrounding areas; all Christians and devout church attendees. The authorities were at a loss because there was no real pattern or profile of person. The number included individuals of all ages and ethnicity. My mother broke out into tears in the middle of their talk. Not until later that night did I know why. My aunt Deborah had been missing for five days.
When we got to church Sunday, our Pastor told us that there were fourteen members of our congregation that were among the missing. Ms. Bryan and Ms. McCall from our Women’s Ministry were in that number. They were really good friends with my Aunt Deborah. I was already scared, but now I was worried and scared. The Pastor encouraged us to be careful and to remain prayerful. “Pray for the authorities to uncover what is going on. Pray that the Lord gives them wisdom to solve this case and to find all those missing. Pray that each of us remain watchful and that the Lord will give us a discerning spirit that we may remain safe.”…What was going on?

When I was taken from the bus stop I remember the ride we took was only about twenty minutes. I remember because I was counting the seconds in my head. Why I don’t know? I guess I’d watched too much TV as my dad always said. I know those shows always talked about try to remember as many details as you can in case you escape. I loved to watch re-runs of those old law shows. I watched everything from CSI to Forensic Files; anything to do with a “who done it?”

I had been captive for more than three weeks now. I’d seen my Aunt Deborah six times since I’d been there. I tried to count the number of people one night at “the feeding” they called it. When the guard saw me he hid me in the head, but it looked like at least two or three hundred people in there, old and young.
The leader of this group was a woman who called herself Prophetess. Her plan was to force all the people she had taken capture to become her followers. I’d heard of people forming cults and starting their own churches, but never kidnapping a following. Anyone caught praying or singing to the Lord was beaten or lock up in some room. I’d heard those rooms were small spaces designed to break your spirit.

Every day some of the captives were forced to stand in the arena area they had set up and recite from the book of the Prophetess. If they didn’t they were beaten in front of the rest of us.


One day Aunt Deborah starting singing “Our God Is An Awesome God” from her small bed because she’d been sick and in the bed for over a week. Well when she started singing it got louder and someone else started in with her, then some others; and then some others until the whole place rang out with the praise of Our God is an Awesome God. The Prophetess was enraged. The guards went through the place like wildfire trying to find out who started it. They got the people quite but that night they didn’t find out who started the singing. The next day the Prophetess made everyone stand in the arena and recited whatever word she spoke out load. She begin with “We serve the god of our prophetess” repeated over and over until I lost count. Whatever else was said faded in my memory to that overwhelming repetition. This went on for several days. One day by chance I was standing next to Aunt Deborah in the crowd. She grabbed my hand and squeezed it real tight like my mother did when she wanted to assure me of something. When the Prophetess came out and the recitations began I noticed my Aunt Deborah never made a sound. She moved her lips but no sound came out. The guards would hit anyone not repeating the required words but I suppose my aunt moved her lips so they’d think she was participating. After about ten days we stop going to the arena for this mass declaration to the Prophetess.

One day an elderly woman was walking in front of Aunt Deborah and fell down in one of the stair ways. The guard went to hit her across the back and my aunt fell down on top of her and took the blow from the guard. She was thrown into one of those punishment cells for three days.

One Sunday morning something happened that changed everything for everyone. Out of nowhere there arose the sound of “Because He Lives”. It was just like before so I know who started it. And this time Aunt Deborah walked out into the arena and sang to the top of her voice. After a while every soul in the place began singing with her. The guards blocked all the passage ways so no one could join my aunt in the arena but they all still sang. Everyone sang. The place was in an uproar. The Prophetess had gone out so the guards were doing everything to try to get the place back under control before she got back. There was a big female guard that had grabbed hold to my aunt and was dragging her out of the arena when the doors open and the Prophetess stood there looking at Aunt Deborah with pure hatred in her eyes. “Silence!” she screamed; and as her voice rang out the guard struck Aunt Deborah in the mouth. “You’re going to die today” the guard said as she looked hard into my aunt’s face. “And I’ll be in Heaven but you’re still going to hell” Aunt Deborah said as she look back at the guard. But it was not hatred in her eyes as she stared straight into the eyes of the female guard. For a few moments neither moved. The guard just stood there looking at Aunt Deborah. Then the Prophetess walked over and slapped the guard in the face. “Well Ms Deborah, so you think you are better than me. You think your God is better that the one I serve.” Aunt Deborah looked at the Prophetess with the same look she have given the guard and said, “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.”
“Take her!” the Prophetess yelled to the guards. They took Aunt Deborah and put her in a room right off the arena floor. I’d never seen anyone being put in that room before. Actually I never knew it was there. We never saw that door opened before. When the door came open the walls, that appeared to only be a few feet apart, began to move and the space opened up. They walked my aunt inside. “Let’s see you called to your God from this hole.” I heard the Prophetess say as she walked away and the guards closed door and the walls closed in on Aunt Deborah.

Weeks went by. It was rumored that one could hear Aunt Deborah speaking scripture aloud in her cell whenever anyone passed close by the doorway. It gave us hope. People passing each other in the passage ways would whisper, “Pray for Deborah.” I know that prayer was going on in the hearts of the people even though no one made a sound. There were several people that rebelled and were beaten. Many sent nights in confinement spaces.
One day the Prophetess came out to speak to us. “My god is not evil. I know how you see me but you are wrong. My god can save you and your precious Deborah if you just surrender your wills to him.” I was right out of a book or some movie I’d seen or something. The whole place was silent. Then there was the sound of two small voices. “Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong. They are weak but He is strong. Yes Jesus loves me, Yes Jesus loves me, Yes Jesus loves me for the Bible tells me so.” It was the voices of a set of twin girls, no more than six years old. I was told they were both mute. No one had heard them speak a word since they’d been taken captive. The Prophetess went crazy. “Bring them to me! Bring them to me NOW!” A guard grabbed the two small girls and dragged them before the Prophetess. “So you do speak? Did this Jesus of your give you those voices?`” “Yes He did!” They spoke in unison as if they were one voice. The Prophetess was more enraged. She spun around and yelled, “Open the door!”, as she pointed to the door way that led to the room where they had put Aunt Deborah. “Let’s see what condition this God lover is in and give her some company into this Heaven she so deeply longs for.” As the wall moved open Aunt Deborah turned to face the Prophetess. Her body was frail because she had not eaten, but she was strong inwardly. It was evident by the glow on her face. There was a look of shock on the face of the Prophetess. She was hoping Deborah was dead I supposed. “Your singing to this God of yours has earned you some followers. Two young twins who say Jesus opened their mute mouths. They mocked me with a song of the love of this Jesus. Well I plan to mock this Jesus by giving Him three instead of one.” At that Aunt Deborah raised her hand toward Heaven, “Lord, it is time. This devil seeks the lives of these children and I cannot let that happen. You Lord cannot let that happen.” At that Aunt Deborah bowed her head and fell to her knees. Out of nowhere there were little flames of fire shaped like arrows that went through the Prophetess and the guards and they fell down on their knees in front of Aunt Deborah. They were not dead though, only kneeling. Aunt Deborah stood up took the two girls by the hands and walked out of the door way and into the arena. “The Battle Is Not Mine, It’s the Lord’s” is the song Aunt Deborah was singing as she walked out into the arena. She pause briefly to say to us, “Let’s go home” She went back to singing and everyone joined in singing. Aunt Deborah walked straight towards the door and as she did the guards opened the doors. Everyone started out the door behind her, all singing in unison. We were free.