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The Apocalypse of Judas - Chapter III: The Prophecy

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Chapter I:

The Apocalypse Of Judas

Chapter Three: The Prophecy

“Woe to the inhabitors of the land and of the sea! For the Devil is come down to you.”

– Rev. 12:12

"ENOUGH!" I was spat forth from blood-wet streets, thick with limbs and paved with eyes. Judas stood as a radiant lighthouse against a midnight storm and I truly beheld him for the first time. I saw not the Great Betrayer who delivered Jesus into the sharp claws of Evil. I saw the man who fulfill prophecies, who knew the True Savior and played his hand at the Mount of Olives to make Jesus the military leader that had been foretold in the scriptures. A man so shocked at his mortal mistake he ended his own life...

His only affront to God. To my knees I fell, with pious sorrow for laying misjudgment at the feet of my psychopomp. Without his actions our Lord, Jesus, would never have been condemned to death and rise three days later. The very act itself which defines our religion. Only now could I accept the vision I was to be granted. Three and one more streets we walked. I was led past tall towers of burning brass, choking coal and biting bone. I beheld earless worker devils, eyes and mouths sewn shut and gilded cages imprisoning their burnt heads. Long mancatchers of glowing gold herded sinners into chasms of fire, lightning and blades. We followed feces-thick streets immune to devilish tortures, safe in our Faith. South-West of Shoel, Judas led me to the Great Pit, lowest point on Mount Desesperance. It was was as if a great bolt of lightning had been flung from the heavens and crashed with much might upon the side of Mount Desesperance. A rotted and burnt sign post, glazed with blood, read "I" and "Sun". We made our way down the jagged hole and found a small raft of smoke upon a river of steaming blood. Judas ferried us through tunnels long and dark, the thrashing din of the Worm that does not sleep, ever our companion. Dull light embraced my senses. A stalactite heavy cavern opened before us. Living carpets of burnt serpents writhed in pits of bubbling lava. Titanic demons, headless and singed, hammered purged souls into new shapes with Hephaistian skill. But this was not the vision I was to have.

Unhallowed grounds were transversed with fleet speed as we raced past walls heavy with pleading souls chained by flaming fetters. Our journey ended before a burning throne of golden barbed chains. I beheld the Fallen First. The Prince of Pride was held fast by his throne of purging links. A childish image, burnt and singed, sat with midnight across his eyes. Lucifer's remaining wing flapped with fearful terror. Judas' mind brushed against mine; enter the Dreaming of the Demiurge to exit the Dark Domain. Seek your vision; find the Silver Ladder of Golden Flames beyond the Nightmare Sea. Left with a fig in my hand and a kiss on my lips, I would not meet my psychopomp again. A great six fingered hand lifted me on high and fed me through the serpent-wide maw of Satan. I fell through images dark and jealous; sights and sounds of such intensity I shielded my eyes to shield my sanity. I found myself upon a sable landscape, gazing toward a crimson horizon. Wood smoke filled my nose. I wandered long and far, never closing on the bloody vista. Exhaustion whipped my body like a taskmaster. I could not go on. If I could only rest my form, shut my eyes. And so I did. Upon soil dank and dark I rested. Then I beheld him, and time, like my heart, froze. Before me floated the tall shadow of a man I once knew, now hollow of eyes and black of tongue. Did my prayers at the Bridge of Good Intentions fall upon deaf ears, or was his soul so darkened? Perhaps I chose unwisely. Dragging weights and chains and sharp barbed whips my great uncle Bible beat me to my tired feet. I followed; slow of step, behind the last great Inquisitor. Shortly he came to rest upon a metal interrogation chair, sharp of spikes and burning bright. With thumb-screwed hands and water-logged finger he directed my attention. Riding the crimson horizon I spied the Holy flames of the Golden Ladder. Racing with newfound vigor, I closed with blurred speed upon the symbol of divine salvation. A vast ocean of writhing serpents, gnashing teeth and tearing claws stretched out before me. The Nightmare Sea. I survived hoof and fang, flame and pain, this too I must endure. My Faith was strong, but for this I would need more Faith than Peter. I set foot upon the Nightmare Sea and visions tore my soul. With each torturous step I glimpsed deeper and darker images; the War in Heaven and the Fall of Lucifer. The Fallen First and followers were punished in Hell, but overthrew Tartaruchus. I beheld Lucifer's continuing war with the Divine Father and the very vision that drove the Demiurge mad.

I saw things that were and things that shall come to pass.

M y eyes beheld men and women, blinded by Faiths of hate, made war as wars have never been made; a war of mushrooms. Man raped the earth as he raped his wife, towers of glass and stone buried wilderness. Man blighted air and sea. Dark skies and black snow engulfed gray cities. Children starved, elders ignored; the world split with overpopulation. I saw a civil world where criminals were coddled, murderers set free. Man-made monsters of metal tore through earth, sea and sky. Man reached for the stars and caught the moon. Apathy, titanic and growing, ruled the hearts of all. Slowly, Satan slithered into the World, none saw his coming for none believed. There would be no great meeting of spectral forces, no final battle between Light and Dark. There could be no conflict where there is no Faith. The science of man granulates the Faith in the Lord. Shallow-hearted men with selfish eyes would only see the Dark; famine, disease, the emptiness of their purse and heaviness of their hearts. They would not see the true Light; sunsets, snowflakes, flowers in bloom, or a child's giggle. Adam's progeny would welcome Satan into their hearts and homes through labor saving monsters, strong drink and a howling need for the green god of greed. When man liberally believes that Evil is not Evil is when man shall become Evil. Untempered kindness draws the darkest veil. Satan would win the War, God shall die and the World will belong to the Great Adversary. Satan would rule unhampered, unchallenged for a Millennium thrice halved due to man's faithless faith. Torturing souls and feeding his Legion, the Fallen First would enjoy his reign. But with the passing of the Last Human all this would change. None remained to neither sate devilish pleasure nor feed demonic belief. Devils and demons faded like nightmares to the morning glory. The Demiurge's forces marshaled strength, ebbing and weak. Troops fell back on the Darkened Prince of Light with claws and fangs, hooves and horns. Under the twilight of the Last New Moon Hell would come to Satan. In his final hour strength would be found, ancient and forgotten, to tear free from pride-strong fetters. A last wave of power and strength would burn through Lucifer as he lashed out against his demonic sycophants. Floating high above his bonded throne, Lucifer discarded his blindfold. Demons and devils tore at their dethroned lord. With angst and anger and might-of-right old Lucifer dug deep within himself and found a ring of light. Brilliance expanded illuminating all. Devils and demons bellowed and bleated to no avail. Then all was Lucifer, for Lucifer was all. Enemies defeated, allies destroyed, man and beast effaced, Lucifer remained. Drained and unbelieved, the remembrance of what was once Lucifer faded. His end came not with flood or fire but with a whisper. Reaching the Far Shores of the Nightmare Sea, my eyes stole a final look before negotiating the burning ladder. A millennium past Lucifer's fading the dawn of a new world cracked over a bleak vista, the light of a new sun washed over a New World. From a low cave, hidden deep within the earth, a new Adam and a new Eve would emerge. I had received my demonic vision of divine dictation. Burning rungs of golden fire burned as I ascended from my hellish harrowing. With pain of flesh and mind I fought for each new rung. Through mist and fog and walls-of-agony I found myself clothed once more in mortal flesh. Fig in hand and burnt of lip. My hair, once black as midnight now red as a funeral pyre, speaks the truth of my tale everyday. And my lips speak the truth of my visions thrice as much. XXX Reverend Father Christian Kramer the Poor Order of Judas

The End John Charles Galvin (c) 1998 John Charles Galvin

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