TRAPPED...Part 21.

We paced the room till dawn. As the light of the day filtered in through the windows, we knew we had to do the needful. Entering Old Major's red Volvo, we headed for the nearest Police Station. 

The policemen on night shift were still walking about the expansive building when we arrived. We jumped out of the car as soon as Old Major killed the engine. The policeman at the gate eyed us with suspicion.

"Wetin be the matter?" His left hand reached for his rifle, lying on top of stacks of old cement bags filled with sand.

Old Major said cooly,"My son is missing."

"Oh." He waved us inside, pointing towards the main hall.

The main hall was a sparse room with a wooden counter by the side and some desks at one end. On the wall, there was a large white board detailing the names of the inhabitants of the various cells and the names of the police officers handling their cases. I quickly scrolled down the list for Dan's name. No luck. The windows were still closed and the room was stuffy. I felt beads of perspiration forming on my forehead.

A stern-looking constable was at the central desk, with chewing stick  in his mouth. On sighting us approach, he quickly put it away and straightened his shirt.

"What can I do for you?" He sounded well-educated.

"We came to report a missing person," Old Major said.

The Constable's eyes widened. "Who is this person and how long has he or she been missing?"

Old Major brought out a handerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.

"The missing person is my son, Dr. Daniel Olisa. He was last seen leaving his place of work, Lagos State University Teaching Hospital, Ikeja, on Saturday morning. He was said to have headed home." 

Old Major placed his hand on Bola's shoulder. 

"His fiancee, here, said he never came home. We have not gotten any calls as to his whereabouts since then. His cellphone rang for a moment and has been switched off since then."

The Constable was listening intently. "Was he driving?"

"Yes. A black Toyota Corolla which he bought a month ago."

The Constable shook his head. He opened the top drawer in his desk and brought out some papers. "Fill this report. We will commence investigations immediately." He looked at us reassuringly. "It could be one of three things. First, that he was involved in an accident." I winced at the thought.

"He could also have been kidnapped,"he continued, facing me. I looked at Old Major. He was staring at the Constable, his face contorted in anguish.

"Third, he may have made an urgent, emergency travel." 

Inwardly, I prayed it should be the case, despite the seeming unlikelihood.

"Was he under any kind of pressure lately? Any strange behaviours?"

We looked at one another and shook our heads. I could not recall Dan behaving strangely.

"His wedding is in five days time," Old Major said, after some time.

"Arghhh!" The Constable was scratching his head. "Very bad timing. Kai!"

He glanced at Bola. She was fidgeting where she stood, a confused look on her face.

"We will try and bring your groom back, okay?"

She nodded.

He told us we had to wait for the District Police Officer. We sat at a bench adjacent to the wall. One of Dan's sisters called to ask where we were.  Bola called her chambers to say that she will not be coming that morning. Just then, there was commotion from inside the cells. A young man was shouting. 

"I am a Barrister, Godammit! You are a very wicked man! You made me sleep over in a Police cell. I will show you!" He was pointed his index finger at a Police Officer who was escorting him out.

"Barrister, you are not above the law. And you no fit do me anything," the officer fired back. "If no be for this man wey just come bail you, I for make sure say you spend another night in the cell." The officer was visibly incensed.

"What impudence! What effontery!" The Barrister was obviously spoiling for a fight.

"You no go respect yourself abi? Yeye man! Person send you to collect rent,  you collect the money, chop am. Come dey lie on top. You no dey shame?"

"Ladipo!" The Constable called the officer to order and asked him to go inside. He obeyed. The Barrister murmured something about insolent bastards and left the station.

"Bad eggs in the profession," Bola said. "Dishonesty will certainly bring disgrace." 

Everyone in the room shook their heads.

Some minutes later, a police patrol Hilux pulled into the compound. There was a flurry of movement outside. I sat up. Two hefty police officers entered the door, dragging with them three young men and a lady, all in handcuffs. One of the young men was bleeding from a thigh wound. The officer in the rear, pushed him mercilessly as he struggled to move with difficulty. The lady was dressed in an orange singlet and combat shorts. Her face was devoid of any emotions. The Constable sat up.

"Armed robbers,"one of the officers said. "They were robbing two buildings in Jagagba street. We were on patrol when we got the call. They had the guts to engage us in a gun-battle," he said with a sneer.

"And the lady?" the Constable asked, sizing her up.

"Na she be their leader o! You need to see her barking orders. We shot one of them dead. This one was lucky the bullet hit only his thigh. E for pierce your skull. Idiot!" He struck the one limping with the butt of his gun. The young man yelled.

I shook my head wondering what could drive a young, beautiful woman into armed robbery. There was a trail of blood from the door to the point where the injured man was standing. He was whimpering in pain.

"Oya, take them inside for questioning. After, lock them up in the cells. Idiots! Na for this cashless economy na im una dey go robbery abi? Devil don catch una!" the Constable bellowed. They were pushed into the adjacent room. 

The DPO arrived some minutes after 8 am. He strode into the room briskly and went straight to his office. The Constable followed him into the office and emerged twenty minutes later. He called us in. The DPO motioned us to sit.

"I have just been briefed on your case. We have three theories: kidnap, accident, or travel. I will assign a detective to your case and will like you to cooperate closely with him. If it is a kidnap, the kidnappers will soon make contact. Inform us as soon as they do so. We will also check the surrounding hospitals and morgues, just in case. If he travelled, he will surely return. But that he travelled is the least likely of the scenarios."

He turned to the Constable. "Assign the case to Sergeant Okoli. Tell him I need results as soon as possible."

We left the office and went to meet with the Sergeant in charge of the case. A jovial, fair-complexioned officer, probably in his mid-thirties, his eyes narrowed in thought as we narrated the events again. He had been briefed earlier by the Constable.

"We will start by searching the emergency rooms of every hospital in Ikeja and every morgue." His sounded determined. "If this is a kidnap, they will make contact, soon. Alert us immediately." We met Dan's sister at the main desk. Old Major briefed her on the progress made.

As we exited the station, I took a casual glance at the hilux parked in the middle of the yard. I froze in horror. Sprawled in the trunk was the bloodied corpse of a young man. The soles of his feet were pale. His face was swollen and disfigured. Some houseflies hovered around the corpse. Lying beside him were some machine guns with bullets scattered in the trunk, most soaked in his blood. I looked away quickly and felt a flood of nausea sweep through me. A young life, wasted. As I spat out in disgust, a bible passage floated into my consciousness: The wages of sin is death.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 4.

I stared at the mirror. A young, black boy stared back, grinning widely. I shook my head and made for the living room, trying to force a smile. My parents had organized a thanksgiving celebration for me. There had been a thanksgiving mass earlier that day. The Isikaros happened to be a popular and influential lot. My dad, an Orthopaedic Surgeon, owned a busy hospital down the street. His younger brother was a psychiatrist practising in the United States. He flew into the country for the thanksgiving. 

I stood at the door, hesitant to turn the knob. The surge of unknown persons staring strangely at me was becoming a huge burden. Suddenly, the door opened. I smiled.

"You have gone into hiding again, abi?"

It was my mum. She held my hand and led me into the living room. I was flustered.

"Your uncle wants to see you."

We greeted some of her lawyer friends as we passed. She was a young magistrate and an amiable woman.

My uncle was sitting with my dad at the balcony. We met Tessy at the door.

"Have you seen Cynthia? She was looking for you." She gave me a wink and left quickly to resume her food-sharing duties. I smiled. Tessy was my rebellious elder sister, a 300-level Economics undergraduate at the University of Nigeria. She was writing her semester exams in school when I woke up at the hospital and she came home soon after. She regaled me with stories of her battles with my dad, starting from when she chose to do Economics instead of Medicine. My dad had been furious. First, it was me going to the seminary against his wish. Then, Tessy choosing the well-worn path of demand and supply. She showed me all the albums containing the family photographs. I only saw images of strangers.

"Jude, Jude!" My uncle was smiling, a glass of wine in his left hand.

"Good afternoon, Sir." I stared at him intently, struggling to recollect. Nothing.

"Don't try so hard," he said, motioning me to sit. My dad excused himself and went inside with my mum to meet with some guests.

"I heard you were discharged from the hospital last week."

"Yes. I will be going for a check-up tomorrow."

"Any luck remembering any of these?" He motioned around the balcony.

I shook my head.

"I heard you woke up as Judas."

I nodded. "All I remember is my past life in Judea. Up until the suicide."

His brow narrowed. "You remember the suicide?" He looked around to make sure we were out of earshots. "I was told you hanged because of a girl."

I looked away. "I don't remember any of that. I mean, Jude's suicide. I recall vividly that I betrayed my Master. I expected Him to perform a grand miraculous escape. He didn't. He ended up dead. I could not bear it. I heard voices taunting and laughing at me. I tried to hang myself, but decided against it at the last minute. Unfortunately, I slipped and hanged."

"Sounds like schizophrenia to me. Jude, you are having delusions of grandeur."

"What is schizophrenia?"

"It is a form of mental disorder. Sufferers have hallucinations and delusions. They see things not really here and hear voices not really present. Are you still hearing the voices?"

"No. I just have occasional migraines and nightmares of hell."

"Hell?" His face went pale.

I held my head in my hands. "I was there. I will rather not talk about it."

I could feel my head throbbing just at the thought. Flashes of the caudron of oil and cries of torment disturbed me.

"Jude stop!"

I opened my eyes. My uncle was sitting there, looking concerned. 

"You were shaking your head vigorously. I think yours is a severe form of Post-traumatic stress disorder. I will come with you to the hospital tomorrow."

I thanked him and went inside. I walked straight to my room. Cynthia was sitting on the bed, flipping through a magazine. She was fifteen, a bookworm and too witty for her age. She went to a day secondary school and was preparing for her SSCE. She stood up as I entered.

"Where have you been?"

I sighed. "I was with my uncle at the balcony."

"You look stressed up," she said, taking my hands.

I nodded and sat at the edge of the reading table. My room was spacious, the red curtains filtering in just the right amount of sunlight. A wooden cabinet filled with books stood beside the wardrobe. There were stacks of books on the reading table. 

"It is still very confusing, isn't it?" Her voice had a calming influence.

"Believe me, it is more than confusing. It is debilitating."

"I am the cause of all this." She looked away. There was sadness in her voice. "I was the reason you attempted to take your life."

I held her shoulders. "You know, I don't get it. I don't get it at all. What actually happened? You need to help me make sense of it all."

She looked at me, misty-eyed. "We have been friends for as long as I could remember. My mum works as a nurse in your dad's hospital. I think we must have met there as kids."

"So, we are just friends?"

She tried to supress a laugh. "Well, technically, yes."

I feigned anger. She burst out in laughter.

"You are not helping!" I said, smiling.

"Okay. You asked me out last year but I told you to face your book and your God. You were a seminarian, for Christsakes!"

I listened on, amused.

"But we became very close friends. I was coming to the house, though, whenever you were on break. I enjoyed your company. It just broke my heart that it won't last. That we could never end up together."

"Towards the end of last year, however, something went wrong. You started sending me disturbing messages of how you were always thinking of me. How I had saturated your mind, blah blah blah..."

"I said all that?" I asked, laughing.

"Don't even get me started!" she fired back. "It was obvious you were obsessed. When I told you my plans of going to study Medicine in the University, you asked me if it was a ploy to dump you."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. "I be correct mumu o!"

"One day, you called to say you were back. That you took a sick leave and came home just to see me. You invited me to come over. I refused. You came to my house. I refused to open the door for you. Then, you sent me this epistle of a text message of how we are irrevocably and intimately linked spiritually and supernaturally, of how you are going to prove it...you spoke a lot of grammar in the text message. I was coming to your house to warn you to stay away from me, when I got another text from you with just two words: Take Care.

I hurried upstairs and met your room locked. I knocked and you did not respond. Then, I heard that blood-curdling, stiffled, choking scream. I ran back and came at the door with full force. It flew open. You were hanging, your eyes popping out, your tongue extruded. On your reading table was a knife, some rope, razor blades and containers of Valium. I grabbed the knife and cut you down and struggled to loosen the rope. Then, I called your dad."

Just then, the door opened and my dad entered.

"Jude, can I talk to you for a minute?" I excused myself from Cynthia and followed him to his room.

"I just got off the phone with your Rector, Monsignor Adibe."

My eyes lit up. I was scheduled to resume the following week.

"You have been expelled."

My heart sank.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 3.

"Doctor! Nurse! He moved his hands! Jude moved his hands!"

A female voice was shouting nearby. I heard sounds of feet hurrying to the room. Where was I? Another part of hell? Where is the Messias? His loving look had enveloped me with pity. I had shed tears of contrition, albeit too late. The rays of light from His saving hands was like honeyed balm and soothed my soul. In an instant, I forgot about Lucifer, his legion of demons, the torments and the stench of evil in the place of damnation. All I felt was love. And inner peace. I was lost in ecstatsy.

The voices around me grew louder. I listened carefully. There were no cries of tormented souls. No wails of anguish from those been fried alive in the cauldron of boiling oil. I was yet to hear Lucifer's thundering, gloating voice. The voices sounded human. Someone touched my eyelids. Suddenly, I felt a flash of light flooded my left eye and then my right. I squinted at the light and tried to open my eyes. I saw a strange sight. 

I was lying in a bed surrounded by various boxes making beeping sounds. I felt a pipe in my mouth and another in my nose. I squirmed in discomfort. Some persons were surrounding my bed. A man wearing a white coat was looking at me strangely and moving my legs. Some females dressed in white walking hurriedly around the room. The man was speaking to them. Where was this? Heaven? A middle-aged woman dressed in plain funny-looking clothes was jumping with joy at the end of the room, occasionally bursting into songs. The language they spoke was not Aramaic but somehow, I understood them.

The man in white coat noticed my discomfort and told them to remove the pipe in my mouth and nose. I breathed fine afterwards. He kept looking at me with surprise. A middle-aged man rushed into the room and looked at me disbelievingly. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "My son! My son is back!" 

I looked at his face. I did not recognize him. The man in white coat spoke briefly with him and then turned to me.

"What is your name? Where is this place? Can you remember what happened to you?"

I opened my mouth to speak but my throat was dry. I gestured for water. I felt better as I gulped down the cool fluid. 

"Judas." I said, after drinking. "Judas Iscariot."

They exchanged strange glances. The man in white had a frown on his face.

"I mean your name."

I nodded. "Judas. Judas Iscariot."

He shrugged. "Do you recognize these people?" He pointed at the man who just entered and the woman who had been singing.

I shook my head. They looked disappointed.

"Where is this place?" I asked.

"You are in a hospital," the man in white coat said. "What was the last thing you remember?"

"The Messias. I was in the hell of the damned. The Messias forgave my betrayal and healed my soul."

They exchanged curious glances again.

"Who is this Messias?" He was writing something. But I could detect concern in his voice.

"Jesus. The Nazarene. I was one of His apostles."

"You are not Judas Iscariot!" It was the woman. She was crying as she spoke. "You are Jude Isikaro. My son!" The man tried to console her. I found her assertions very strange. How come?

The man beside her spoke to the man in a white coat. "Dr. Gbenga, what is wrong with my son?"

The doctor shook his head. "Dr. Isikaro, I think your son may have retrograde amnesia. It is not out of place given the trauma he had. But believe me, his case is a pure miracle. Most patients from failed suicide attempts usually have debilitating health challenges. Most who are rescued from hanging usually have their brain permanently damaged, such that they would need intensive care for the rest of their lives. So, I am still in shock that Jude not only came out from a month's coma, he is talking and moving his limbs. His loss of memory is the least of our problems."

The couple sighed in relief. The doctor said I should be allowed to rest and left the room. The couple sat quietly in the corner occasionally glancing at the bed. After some time, the woman came up to the bed. She was smiling.

"Jude nwa m. My son. I am overjoyed that you have woken up. Everyone had given up hope. Everyone, except me and your dad."

"You are not my mother. I don't recognise you."

She stroke my head. "Jude..."

"And stop calling me Jude! I am Judas. My father is Simon from Kerioth in Judea. My mother is Cyborea..."

The man stood up and shot me an angry look.

"Stop that! Will you?" He turned to the woman. 

"Cecilia, allow the boy some time to rest. Maybe when he fully comes to, he would give me a good reason why a sixteen year old seminarian from a wealthy home will decide to hang himself over a girl!" He stormed out of the room.

His words stunned me. Sixteen years old? Seminarian? I looked down at my hands and feet. They were dark. Is this a new life or the continuation of my old one?I looked at the woman. She was dark-skinned and beautiful. She looked worried.

"Madam, I seriously think there has been a huge misunderstanding. First, I am not your son. Second, I am no seminarian. Yes, I tried committing suicide, but hung by accident. But it was not and can never be because of a girl! I was married in Judea with two children before the Messias called me..."

"You are still a teenager. You have never been married."

I shut my eyes in deep thought. These people are crazy! Something is definitely wrong.

"Jude, don't stress yourself. It will all come back to you. Again."

There was something calm and loving in her voice. In a way, she sounded like the Messias.

Three days passed. I had started eating and walking around. The food was different but tasted good. I stood by the window and looked into the street below. The world had changed completely. No camels or donkeys anywhere. There were moving boxes called 'cars'. It felt strange but strangely felt familiar. I asked Cecilia about Herod, Pontius Pilate and the Roman Empire. She laughed and told me they are all history.

"We are in the twenty-first century. The Messiah died more than two thousand years ago."

She gave me a book. "It may contain some answers."

It was the Christian scriptures. I opened the book eagerly. It had two parts. The old and the new testaments. The old testament felt very familiar. My eyes lit up.

"Christianity is just advanced Judaism," I said, as I flipped through the pages.

"How?" she asked.

"Your old testament is just the same as the Torah, Nevi'im and Ketuvim."

She looked surprised. "What are those?"

"The Pentateuch or books of Moses, the Prophets and the remaining writings."

"But we have the new testament as well."

I laughed. "That was the advancement."

I spent the whole night reading the new testament. The story of the Messias was looking scant. If only they knew all that He did! He was a phenomenon. None of the writers captured His loving eyes. Those eyes that spoke tons of love. I proceeded to the Acts of the Apostles. I froze at the first chapter. I was replaced? With Matthias? I closed the book and put it away, heart-broken.

The next morning, some boys came to visit me, dressed in a sort of uniform. They were led by a man in white overall. My 'mum' smiled as she introduced them.

"They are from your seminary. This is your Rector, Monsignor Adibe and your classmates."

I did not recognize any of their faces.

The Monsignor spoke. "We are glad that you are awake. We have been praying ceaselessly for your full recovery. God has finally answered our prayers." He turned to my 'mum'. "He was our Senior Prefect and our overall best student. He was outstanding in History, Liturgy and Latin."

She smiled proudly. The boys took turns to hold my hands.

"We missed you, Jude." The Rector's voice was laden with emotions.

"I told you that you were a seminarian," my 'mum' said, when they left. "You were an outstanding student. That was why this incident took everyone by surprise."

"But I don't know those people!" My confusion was doubled. I needed answers.

My 'mum' held me reassuringly. "Don't worry. Whether you are Judas or Jude, my love for you stays the same. I can't believe I was this close to losing you."

She was sobbing. I hugged her. I may not remember her, but her love for me was palpable.

"Just give me some time. Maybe I would remember."

That evening, my 'father' visited again. He looked relaxed and smiled at me as he entered.

"The Rector was here today, with some seminarians," my 'mum' told him.

"Oh! Good," he said. "I just pray they will take him back. Though, it seems very unlikely. I hope he has taken his afternoon medications?"

"Yes."

"Are they helping? Has he remembered?"

She shook her head.

He sighed. "Dr. Gbenga also said he may also have a Dissociative Identity Disorder, which may be as a result of the trauma. That may be why he sees himself as Judas Iscariot."

Just then, a girl appeared at the doorway. She looked happy to see me. Her caramel-coloured skin and beautiful face struck me as she approached the bedside. She smiled at me.

"Cynthia, my darling. Welcome," my 'mum' said as she embraced her. She greeted my 'parents', all the while looking at me in disbelief.

"I am so happy you are awake," she said, holding my hands.

I smiled. That was the most I could do in the midst of strange persons who expected me to remember them. I have stopped tasking my brain since it came up with nothing.

My 'mum' sent her to buy some fresh fruits. I watched her slender form walk gracefully out of the room.

"Who is she?" I asked my 'mum'.

She shook her head. "She is your 'supposed' girlfriend for whom you hung yourself. She was on her way to our house to see you when she got your text stating why you were dying. Her speed to break into the house and cut the rope on your neck is the reason why you are still here, breathing. She saved your life."

I opened my mouth to speak. No words came out.

© Kelvin Alaneme, 2015.

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.

JUDAS...Part 2.

The fall was long and rough. In pitch darkness, I heard millions of voices crying and screaming. They were also falling. Suddenly, the atmosphere became very hot. My clothes burned up, the charred remains clinging to my reddened flesh. I screamed in horror. I was burning and the anguish was indescribable. Some other falling persons bumped into me, and looking into the orange skies, I could see millions of bodies raining down.

I felt a pain tear through my stomach. I let out a blood-curdling howl. Looking at my abdomen, I could see the blades of a giant three-pronged fork emerging, with strands of flesh. I looked below in horror. A creature was holding the giant fork, grinning wickedly and in an instant flung me towards a cauldron of boiling oil. I closed my eyes in anticipated anguish and screamed. A strong hand caught my waist mid-air and with a dark, commanding voice uttered, "He is mine."

He smashed me onto the ground. Pain engulfed me. I looked up at him. He was a sight to behold. Handsome and imposing, he was the tallest creature I have seen. He was surrounded by countless demons, bowing to him and paying him homage.

"Judas, welcome to my kingdom, the hell of the damned."

I was shaking terribly as I slowly arose. "I don't belong here."

He gave a prolonged laughter. The whole place reverberated with his voice.

"He doesn't belong here?" He laughed again. "You passed Limbo and Purgatory on your way as you fell. If you were one of the Patriachs of the faith or died an unbaptized infant, you would have been in Limbo. If you were His friend, He would have at least kept you in purgatory for purification by fire! But you fell straight to me. To me!" He laughed again, his legions of demons laughing with him.

"I like you Judas. A lot. You helped me accomplish what I have been planning to do since the beginning of time."

I looked at him in horror. "How?"

"Do you know we used to be in Heaven, with The Creator?" he pointed at his legions of demons.

"Really? Why did you leave?"

"I am Lucifer. The former Prince of Heaven and Light-bearer, now the King of the Underworld. The Creator did something abominable. He showed us a vision of He who you betrayed, as a small baby and commanded us to worship Him. Imagine, me, Lucifer worship a human baby? It was the last straw. My mind was made up permanently. I will not and I will never!" His voice thundered in anger. The demons gave a piercing cry and raised their three-pronged forks in unison.

"Michael, my best friend, and his group worshipped the baby. We have had enough. I commanded my Legions and we fought them. We left heaven for them. Why live perpetually like a slave when you can be a king elsewhere and be worshipped? Now, we have men worshipping us!" He roared in laughter and his demons joined him.

"I have been trying to kill Him since He was born. But He escaped, even to Egypt. I got Him in the wilderness, but He was a fool, blinded by loyalty to The Creator. I never relented. And then you came along and handed Him on a platter!" He laughed again. "Now that He is dead, mankind is doomed forever! Michael and his cohorts will regret their decision not to join my army."

I was petrified. I looked around. The whole place reeked of evil. Millions of demons were everywhere tormenting damned souls. There were shreiks and cries especially from the cauldron of boiling oil. The smell of sulphur hung heavily in the air. The worst evil on earth is nothing compared to what happened here.

"I don't belong here," I shouted, again. "Whatever I did, I did in error. Christ..." There was a sudden earthquake that threw everyone on the ground, lying on their faces. Lucifer was the first to rise, after the quake, and gave me a blow that sent me flying into the shadows. Thousand of demons descended on me, biting, clawing, piercing me with prongs. I wished for death to come but it did not. My whole body was on fire and the pain, mind-numbing.

"Why did you mention that name?" Lucifer bellowed. He was incensed.

He came to the shadows and picked what remained of me and flung me to a demon who used a giant mallet to shatter my bones and skull. I felt my body break into a million pieces and dissolve in a sea of agony. Lucifer picked me up and threw me towards his throne.

"Don't you ever dare mention His name again!"

I nodded. I was damned to inhabit this zone of the dead with these evil creatures for eternity. I wept in agony.

"Whatever I did, I did unknowingly. He gave me a piece of bread and you possessed me."

He laughed long and hard. "Yes, I did. It is one of the means through which I operate. Diabolical possesion. I can torment you from the outside though. Judas, you were set up to be the scape-goat. Your act had been prophesied about and you merely fulfilled the scriptures."

His statement shocked me."Where is the justice in that? What happened to my free-will?"

"Don't ask me. Ask The Creator. Maybe He gave you an option to change your mind and you did not take it. Maybe."

Just then there was pandemonium. A female demon ran into the space, shaking.

"He is here. He-who-shall-not-be-named. He has set the souls in Limbo free."

Lucifer sprang to his feet. "What?! Soldiers! Prepare for attack. We have an intruder in my kingdom. Our kingdom. Let us finish Him now and for all eternity!"

The demons gave a heart-rending battle cry and chants of 'We will not serve' rented the air.

Then the earthquake started. Everyone fled to the shadows in panic, falling on their faces and screaming. Lucifer laid powerless on the ground. 

I raised my head and saw Him. The Messias. He was looking at me with love in His eyes. His hands and feet had holes and His side was pierced. He raised His hand in my direction. Streams of bright light engulfed me. And then there was darkness.

©Kelvin Alaneme, 2015. 

Follow on Twitter @dr_alams.