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Saints and Warfare

🇺🇸DaoistTBPP91
22
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Synopsis
2000 years ago, the prophet Elijah fought and destroyed the cultists that followed the demon-god, Baal on Mount Carmel. Elijah's sword was never mentioned again, until now. A bloodlust to destroy the Order of Elijah has emerged and the demon-god, Baal, has been summoned by the descendants of the once thriving tribe of the Canaanites. In this epic tale of good verses evil, both sides have collided to claim the mighty sword of Elijah and in doing so, have thrown the world into chaos, especially John O'Neil's who has never believed in angels or demons until now. Protagonist- John O'Neil Antagonist- Baal and Cultists Anti-hero-Doug O'Neil Anti-hero- Heaven Jorgenson
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Chapter 1 - Prologue

4000 years ago(Biblical text)

21Elijah challenged the people: "How long are you going to sit on the fence? If God is the real God, follow him; if it's Baal, follow him. Make up your minds!"

Nobody said a word; nobody made a move.

22-24Then Elijah said, "I'm the only prophet of God left in Israel; and there are 450 prophets of Baal. Let the Baal prophets bring up two oxen; let them pick one, butcher it, and lay it out on an altar on firewood—but don't ignite it. I'll take the other ox, cut it up, and lay it on the wood. But neither will I light the fire. Then you pray to your gods and I'll pray to God. The god who answers with fire will prove to be, in fact, God."

All the people agreed: "A good plan—do it!"

25Elijah told the Baal prophets, "Choose your ox and prepare it. You go first, you're the majority. Then pray to your god, but don't light the fire."

26So they took the ox he had given them, prepared it for the altar, then prayed to Baal. They prayed all morning long, "O Baal, answer us!" But nothing happened—not so much as a whisper of breeze. Desperate, they jumped and stomped on the altar they had made.

27-28By noon, Elijah had started making fun of them, taunting, "Call a little louder—he is a god, after all. Maybe he's off meditating somewhere or other, or maybe he's gotten involved in a project, or maybe he's on vacation. You don't suppose he's overslept, do you, and needs to be woken up?" They prayed louder and louder, cutting themselves with swords and knives—a ritual common to them—until they were covered with blood.

29This went on until well past noon. They used every religious trick and strategy they knew to make something happen on the altar, but nothing happened—not so much as a whisper, not a flicker of response.

30-35Then Elijah told the people, "Enough of that—it's my turn. Gather around." And they gathered. He then put the altar back together for by now it was in ruins. Elijah took twelve stones, one for each of the tribes of Jacob, the same Jacob to whom God had said, "From now on your name is Israel." He built the stones into the altar in honor of God. Then Elijah dug a fairly wide trench around the altar. He laid firewood on the altar, cut up the ox, put it on the wood, and said, "Fill four buckets with water and drench both the ox and the firewood." Then he said, "Do it again," and they did it. Then he said, "Do it a third time," and they did it a third time. The altar was drenched and the trench was filled with water.

36-37When it was time for the sacrifice to be offered, Elijah the prophet came up and prayed, "O God, God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, make it known right now that you are God in Israel, that I am your servant, and that I'm doing what I'm doing under your orders. Answer me, God; O answer me and reveal to this people that you are God, the true God, and that you are giving these people another chance at repentance."

38Immediately the fire of God fell and burned up the offering, the wood, the stones, the dirt, and even the water in the trench.

39All the people saw it happen and fell on their faces in awed worship, exclaiming, "God is the true God! God is the true God!"

40Elijah told them, "Grab the Baal prophets! Don't let one get away!"

They grabbed them. Elijah had them taken down to the Brook Kishon and they massacred the lot.

PRESENT DAY

Ashes ran as the flames danced out of control, greedily devouring the sacrificed flesh, bones, and wooden pyre that fueled the brilliantly lit inferno.

Ancient words tormented and tantalized the ears of the sacrificial victims within the room as the prophets of Baal cut themselves with razor sharp ceremonial blades, flailing and flicking their own life's blood into the charred remains of the first victim's corpse with the hopes of invoking their god.

Every evil syllable spoken inundated the atmosphere, changing the veracity of the air as the blood evaporated and mixed with the heavily laden words, stirring the shadows of the dark planes, creating a surge of energy to reverberate within the underworld, waking the demon-god- Baal.

It had been a thousand years since their last attempt, the prophets of Baal would not fail again.

A fat faced priest walked over to the Cauldron of shadows and dropped a piece of parchment into the murky waters with a name etched in ash on its weathered surface and watched the writing dissolve as the waters began to bubble and swirl into a slow vortex. Both prophets and prostitutes held their breath as they waited and watched, if they could free him, he would free them all from the oppressive hand of the church, especially from the order of Elijah.

Temple prostitutes moaned and cried out as they worshipped Baal and the priests with their bodies and sexuality, arousing all of the, prophets, demons, and other beings within the spiritual realms. Roar's thundered from the in between as the cauldron's waters became a portal that would allow both the spiritual and physical plans to merge, the ritual had begun.

Prophets and priests scurried around as they prepared the sacrificial victims for the second phase of the ritual, placing them all in strategic positions within the room. Above each victim was a statue of a demon, each jaw wide open showing sharp fangs and bulging eyes. Each victim tried to fight the knots that bound them and their captures that held them in place to no avail, a heavy hand to the back of the neck silenced those who fought back.

"Drop the name into the cauldron. Let us welcome the princes into this world, shall we?"

A blood-stained piece of cloth slowly fell into the dark waters with a name on it, the name of the one who had the key, the key that would unlock the chains that keep their lord cursed within the underworld. The blood that would flow from each victim released the represented strongman of old, allowing a small army of powerful demons to manifest. Once the prophets of Baal had their army of both cultists and demons the Order would pay, dearly.

The room began to slowly fill with a swirling mass of both flames and shadows that shot upward from the swirling vortex, dark orbs opened within the swirling inferno that turned toward

the humans who served him by cutting themselves above the sacrificial victims, their own life's blood called to demon-god. Frozen with fear, each victim tried to scream to no avail as their souls were snatched from out of their eyes and mouth, leaving a pile of shriveled skin and bones.

Soul after soul, tormented spirits of the slain swirled and hovered above the cauldron waiting for the portal to open, releasing the gates to the in between.

Cultists chanted and screamed as their life's blood flowed freely, their lives would have purpose within their next life when they came back as kings with unlimited power, their lord had said so, death was only the beginning. Death was a mere steppingstone into the depths of the underworld where they would be served and honored for their sacrifice to Baal.

A bone chilling shriek escaped from within the murky dark depths of the cauldron as a huge fiery hand reached out and grabbed the gate that separated the demon-god from the physical realm, he could smell the blood and feel their fear. Baal had mere moments before the curse of Elijah would close the portal again, his words sharp to the point as he spoke,

"The sword of Elijah is in Harvest Hills, send your army there, Go!"

The spirits of Death, murder, witchcraft, lust, and perversion stepped out of the shadows, standing ten feet tall and bowed toward the fiery creature, "My lord, I will not fail you."

Anger erupted as the demon-god spoke," I'm stuck in this form... Bring me Elijah's sword.

"What about the daughter of Adam, my lord? She is getting stronger and has learned how to use the heavenly language, she prays against us all."

"A child scares you, Murder?"

"It is…

"Shut up, weakling! I will take care of the child; she will no longer be a problem."

''My lord, she is covered by HIS blood…"

"I will cover her with blood, her own." the demon-god said as he slowly vanished into the bubbling waters of the cauldron, leaving the room quiet and tranquil as the curse pulled him back into the in-between, the curse had no hold over where he went within the realms, just over the portals that would allow him to regain his full strength in his original form as the god of the east. If the priests were right, then he had to muster all of his strength and visit the O'Neil home and destroy the human warrior, he had to die.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Gabby's eyes shot open, the Holy spirit's normally quiet voice began to scream within her, waking her up. Instantly, her spiritual eyes opened, and she could see the presence of pure evil entering her room. She looked around and noticed an oily blackness begin to seep through her walls and electrical plugs. The stench of putrid carrion and charred and singed hair permeated Gabby's room, her eyes and nostrils began to burn and tear as the demon approached,

"You can't save your father, daughter of Adam, he will be mine." the demon-god spoke with an angry ferocity, "Your prayers are…"

"In the name of Jesus, shut up demon! " Gabby said as both authority and holy spirit power built within her as she mentioned her savior's name," you have no authority in this room or in my home, get out in Jesus' name!"

An angry scream sounded as the in-between swirled together as Baal lost his power, causing the demon-god to fade as he was sucked back into the abyss, "I'm patient, daughter of Adam, you will see." a rageful voice whispered within the darkness, leaving her bedroom smelling like rotten meat and sulfur,

Gabby looked at her Tinkerbell alarm clock: 3:00am. And turned toward the door as it flew open, her father almost breaking the door open," I heard you scream, are you okay princess?" John wrinkled his nose," what is that smell, sweetheart?" he asked with a smile, "is that you?"

"Noooo Daddy, that wasn't me!" she said with an embarrassed smile," it must be coming from outside, or something."

John walked over to the open window and closed it halfway, sniffing at the morning air, "there must be a dead animal somewhere, I will check it out when the sun comes up, no worries."

"You're so good to me daddy, thank you."

"Why did you scream? Are you okay, princess?"

Gabby switched on her lamp that rested atop of the nightstand," I'm okay, Daddy. It must have been a dream or something. Jesus was here to protect me." She didn't tell him the whole truth knowing that her father wasn't ready for the truth of both demons and angels, the supernatural was not his thing. He believed that if he couldn't shoot it or kill it, then it didn't exist.

The fact that she was the only one within her family that believed in both angels and demons made it very lonely, especially when she wanted to pray with her family. The only time she could talk about both angels and demons was at church with Juanita and she worked with her family in their store, making it impossible to hang out when they weren't at church. Protecting her family was her job and she needed to find both help and answers before the demon came back. Why had the demon picked her father, what made him so special, he didn't even believe in them? The question continued to tickle her brain as she fought to stay awake. Gabby began to rub her eyes while she yawned and stretched, "I love you, Daddy."

John smiled and pulled back the silk on her canopy bed," come here and give me a hug my smelly princess, Fiona."

Gabby threw back he covers and wrapped her arms around her father's neck, "you're the smelly one, Donkey!"

John surrendered into his daughter's gentle embrace and leaned forward, allowing her to win the fight. She kissed her biceps and then said," these guns are massive!" flexing as she grabbed her father by the head and then kissed him on the forehead before she retreated back to her pillow, "Because I won, can we go to church on Sunday, again, Daddy?"

"Church!?" The question caught him off guard. It had been months since he had gone to church with his family, he was normally never home, "sure, sweetheart."

"You pinky swear! You can't break a pinky swear, daddy!" she shot out her little finger and wiggled it for him to take with his own.

"I pinky swear, princess." an ear-to-ear grin covered his face as his little finger wrapped around hers. Gabby's smile was contagious, and they both began to giggle and laugh.

She squealed with excitement and couldn't hold it in anymore, "you can meet Juanita. She is my best friend, and she is from Honduras and goes to my school as an exchange student. She said that her grandfather and father are both demon hunters within their village, it's their job to protect them all from evil spirits. She said that they even killed a few demons, isn't that cool, daddy?

The blank stare in her father's eyes had said it all, he was not here, he was behind enemy lines again. She leaned forward and ran her little fingers through her father's hair, pulling him back into this reality away from the war within his mind," I love you daddy. Can you hear me?"

John slowly came to as the gunshots and explosions subsided as he was pulled back to his daughter's voice," I'm sorry, princess. I zoned out again, didn't I?"

"It's okay, daddy! You can make it up to me by making me breakfast in the morning." Gabby smiled a mischievous grin and began to rub her hands in a nefarious way as she threw her head back and began to laugh sinisterly, mocking her daddy's misfortune.

"Shush, you're gonna wake your mother! John said as he tried controlling his own laughter.

"Sorry…" Gabby threw her hand over her mouth, trying to stop the contagion.

"So, what does my princess desire for breakfast?" John bowed lowly as his head rested on her bed, "I am but your humble servant, my grace."

"Pancakes! Peanut butter banana chocolate chip pancakes with fruity pebbles and whipped cream topping."

John cupped his hand around her ear and whispered," those are my most favorite kind of pancakes!" and smacked his lips as he rubbed his belly.

Gabby giggled uncontrollably as she looked at her father's facial expressions," you are the best daddy ever."

John smiled at the lie and tucked his beautiful princess into her Cinderella comforter, kissing her on the forehead, brushing her blond hair out of her angelic face, "I love you, also. You are the best daughter ever, sweetheart." She was asleep and didn't hear a word that he had said. He looked at her fragile face with the light brown freckles and wondered how he had gotten so lucky to have such a perfect daughter within the chaos of his life, "I will never leave you again, I promise."

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The spirits of Murder, Death, Witchcraft, and Perversion materialized within the darkness of the Birchwood Forest, gathering into a mass of Darkness. Purposefully, this darkness moved slowly through the copious hedge behind the church. Lurking. Waiting. Hungry. The time had come, over one thousand years had passed. The time for peace was over, and the time for revenge and punishment had arrived. Tonight, would crest the epoch of Baal's genocide against the Christians and those who served HIM, especially the order of Elijah.

Witchcraft's throat tingled as he could taste the acrid tinge of blood and flesh, the blood that would flow down his arid throat was only the beginning, thousands would need to die to satiate his thirst. A rage filled lust fueled something deep within him, the thought of being trapped in the in between for those many years gave him all of the motivation that he needed not to fail this time. The last time he had lost thousands of prophets, servants, and cultists and even his own freedom. He wasn't sure if it was Baal's fault or simply better strategy on the enemies' part, either way, he was tired of hiding in the shadows and living off of scraps, he needed more this time around. Witchcraft roared into the blackness of the night, calling forth an army of lesser demons. Demons that would do his bidding while he took care of Lord Baal's release. Once he could release Baal, the ethereal would pay for killing the thousands of servants and prophets on Mount Carmel when they helped Elijah and his sword…

Witchcraft's jasper eyes peered through the cold blackness, looking, who would be his first victim tonight. Who in this cursed town would taste his rage? He watched as all of the strongmen and lesser demons scattered into the woods toward the small town of Harvest Hills looking for the sword of Elijah.