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TITLE (EDIT)
From Darkness Into Light
DESCRIPTION
A first person POV that tells of one man's struggle in a world trapped between a heavenly dream and a hellish nightmare.
[1,344 words]
TITLE KEYWORD
Mystical
AUTHOR
Larry Samuel McCrea
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Published author and screenplay writer
[July 2004]
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL ADDRESS
[email protected]
From Darkness Into Light
Larry Samuel McCrea

From Darkness Into Light

Suddenly awakened by a lingering cold sweat, rippling chills ran through my body. Attempts to clear my mind of the apparition were futile, but everything in the room was untouched. Clothes I had thrown on the floor the night before were still in their place, but a temporary deviation in thought would not release the haunting. The image, so vivid, appeared as suspended flowing water, laced with violating and ruthless intent, its tentacles of darkness spewing judgmental poison with every flit of my gaze in any direction; a contemplating message of things to come, an unfriendly reminder that we are never alone. The private inner domain of my faith was violated without even the slightest consideration for the sanctity of my God given right of free will.

“Who are you that your intimidation naturally spawns an awakening of my imperfect self?” I asked.

“What are you, that the natural imposition of your will would tear through the personally locked fibers of my being attempting to take over that which you are not entitled?” I asked.

“Why are you, since the corridors of my spirit are guarded by Holy Law and denied to your appetite for sinful domination,” I asked.
“But you are still here, probing and unrelenting. Flee me before I am curiously left to dwell upon that which I have chosen to avoid at all costs. The vividness of your invasion lingers as the barriers of my strength are overcome with the seeping nausea of your persistence,” I said.
The Dream
It was not just any green pasture with butterflies and swaying poppies, but a place of mystique, unfamiliar except in a dream – a forgotten event of childhood that brought screams from a sudden awakening from The Darkness Into the Light. The fragrance of the air was sweet, subtly alluring, but a bitter sweetness turned my head in the direction of its origin. Beyond the silent, distant peak, a storm, telegraphing its approach with gentle, mystifying apprehension attempted to draw my attention with its silent, golden, narrow streaks of lacy light.
The spring flowers of the rolling hills were so beautiful and in full bloom. The reflection of my smile and obvious excitement of natural security and serenity shone in the crystal clear mountain brook - its many illusive wonders attempting to melt away any mental shift in spiritual direction.
I was so full of myself, not just feeling the blessed moment, but basking in its magical attempt to capture the generosity of my desires. Freedom of the moment was so explosive and encapsulating that only the approaching storm could have dampened the wonder of my spirit.
But I did not care about the storm. My fanatical high was not going to be interrupted by an intruder with God knows what on its mind. I began to run, stripping off my clothes, feeling like a babe in the woods, basking in the warmth of a rising sun.

Then it happened -The storm suddenly deprived me of my fantasy. Abruptly, it turned off the suns gentle massage and moved ever closer. I paused, attempting to hold onto my recent feelings of contentment and solidarity. But its planned invasion was initiated, hovering over me, following with an undeniable intent to express its earthly revelation. Directly in the center of its blackness, a separation revealed a sequence of events not welcome or accepted in my minds eye.

“Who are you, What are you,” I asked again, startled, my voice suddenly optimized to a thunderous level, as though heaven’s right to question would not be denied.
In a cracking, challenging sound of ground lightning, a black, unfamiliar image rose from the clouds highest peak.

“I am not of your imagination, rather a reality you have chosen to deny. I am not your God or a Master who would enslave your thoughts and feelings for the sake of common good,” answered Satan. “A name is a name as any other, yet the fuel that fans my intent was created from the dark side of man’s overpowering desire to know me.”

“Then, if you have not come to earth to contribute to our desperate need for human love and kindness, you are here to frustrate our attempts,” I said.

“I see that darkness has become your friend and loneliness seeks a permanent audience with those who do not understand your Gods’ spiritual implications. But, I am here to clarify my position. Human paradise and peace can only exist when selfish motivations, needs of the flesh and power bases are satisfied. The useless attempt of man to withdraw from my generous offers of self-indulgence should be a sinful conclusion of his stupidity. His historical, incapable ability to live in peace should have long ago shifted the balance between good and evil. The portals of opportunity have been many and the countdown to success, pleasing. I know my limitations, which are few. The predictability of man’s collective weaknesses is the silver bullet that will penetrate the final barrier leading to my success. My army is strong and growing. Where will you be when my own judgment day shall find leaders to carry on that which is surely destined?” asked Satan.

“If I am the lowliest in God’s kingdom, I shall wash the feet of the holiest. My name shall bear an unwavering precedence as one who was once lost in your kingdom and escaped with the utterance of a simple prayer glorifying God’s grace and the enduring love of his forgiveness. A miracle, maybe, but as much a reality as your unwanted presence. God’s love is a divinity that creates a lasting blessing for all who partake. The love for evil can only create that which would surely destroy itself through trickery and unholy deeds. Even you, the master of evil, will one day find the knives of deception cutting into your lifeline, rendering your existence without foundation. The rampant disposition of your intent is only a temporary stay, the likes of which is self-destructive in its own nature. Bask in your power for now Satan, but never forget that the slow moving stream of the steadfast Holy is moving in your direction to poison every artery of your wickedness. The coming of the Lord will be your death,” I said.

“You are but a white sheep in a herd of infidels. You alone do not possess the character to overcome, regardless of the sincerity of your motivation. My achievements are concise and man’s appetite for evil, definitive. Stand by my side while there is still time, for your God is weakening from the failures of his own ill-fated, selfish, attempts to manage his creations,” said Satan.

“Jesus is my lord and savior, the sun that rises and sets, the stream that empties into the purity of great rivers and the seer who will fight the final battle for the sanctity of man,” I answered.

“Oh yes, the son - the pitiful protégé that whimpered to be saved in Gethsemane, the so-called, perfection, flawed by my temptation and humiliated before his God, then screamed out for mercy as his blood ran warm down the cross of his murderous creator. Yes, your Father in Heaven has chosen my gladiator well and his defeat shall be as definitive as the broken souls of all mankind,” said Satan.

“Flee from me, for I have the sword of your destruction implanted within the essence of my creation. You are but a temporary visitor in mans trek across the plain of life, for it was and is the “gift of free will,” that threatens your existence. Search my soul – I command you! Take it if you have the power and if you cannot – remember; I am but one of the many who will sacrifice flesh, blood and all material things to reach the land of paradise.

There was silence as the sun’s rays attempted to squeeze through the crumbling darkness of Satan’s inability to respond. It had all been said.

The final words were definitive.
“God’s love was, before the beginning, and it will be, after the end.”
  

 

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COPYRIGHT NOTICE
© 2002 Larry Samuel McCrea
STORYMANIA PUBLICATION DATE
July 2004
NUMBER OF TIMES TITLE VIEWED
1586
 

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