Wednesday, August 1, 2007

The Attempted Abduction

Helen screamed and struggled wildly, as she felt someone grab her arm. She opened her eyes, expecting to see what she feared the most, an alien. Instead, the man who had slammed the door of the church in her face was dragging her into the building for all he was worth. He looked terrified. The UFO was directly over the small church, flooding it in a beam of blinding white light. Nearby, trees swayed crazily, as if they were in a windstorm, and bits of litter, dust, and dead leaves swirled like snowflakes in a blizzard. Helen’s hair flew in all directions and her clothes flapped on her body. “Oh thank you…thank you so much,” she sobbed, as the man slammed the door and fumbled with the lock. He pulled Helen, now on her feet, toward the interior of the church and stopped when they reached the hand-carved wooden pulpit. He finally managed to speak. “What is that….out there?” “What does it look like to you?” Helen blurted back at him. “A flying…saucer,” he said. “I never believed in them.” Helen looked at his shaking hands, then pointed to a row of dark, stained-glass windows, which lit up as if they had spotlights set behind them. She screamed, “Look, they’re going to come in.” “Oh my,” the man exhaled slowly. Helen’s body trembled, “They’re after me…not you,” she said. “What are they?” he asked. Helen shook her head, wrapped her arms around herself, and began to cry. Two of the stained-glass windows exploded inward, spraying the floor with shards of colored glass. Helen screamed and dived under the pew next to her. The man stepped back from the broken window as a shaft of brilliant light poured in the opening, illuminating the interior of the church. The entire building trembled, as if were in the epicenter of an earthquake. “What’s happening?” the man shouted. “What’s going on?” “Make it go away,” Helen screamed. She crawled further under the pew. The old man dropped to his knees, shouting, “This building is over two hundred years old, it can’t take this. We’ve got to get out of here before it falls on us.” He reached out to her. “No,” she cried, moving away from him. A horrible, groaning sound came from the front doors. “The doors sound like they’re breaking apart!” the old man shouted. He fell to the floor, and covered his head with his hands. The groaning grew louder, and Helen heard the tearing of wood. The doors came apart, and panels, styles, and rails flew into the church, crashing against the pulpit, knocking it over. It went end over end, splitting in two as it crashed against the back wall. “Do something,” she moaned. Then she noticed that something had changed in him. He seemed to be no longer afraid. Where moments before there had been only fear, and uncertainty, now he looked determined. Helen watched as he straightened himself to his full height and turned toward the front door. “What are you doing?” Helen screamed at him. “Fighting what I’ve fought before,” he said. In a loud voice, he cried out. “His faithfulness will be your shield, and rampart. You will not fear the terror of the night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.” He paused for a moment, then lifted his hands defiantly and began again, more boldly then before. “Then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent. For he will command his angels concerning you To guard you in all your ways. “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me. And I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble. Helen strained to hear what he said. In spite of the turmoil and deafening wind, caught she snatches of what the old man said. “Help your servant now…the forces of darkness…angels about us…break the hand of the enemy…Help us, Lord Jesus.” Helen moved closer to the old man from under the pew. “Isn’t that what the man claimed on TV,” she thought, remembering the show she had seen. The wind began to die down, and the shaking of the building subsided. Helen crawled out. “Is it going?” she asked. Then, as if someone had pulled the plug, the blinding light pouring in from the empty window frames and doorway was extinguished. Her body trembled uncontrollably as she listened for any sound that would indicate their return. She slowly got to her feet. “They’re gone,” she whispered. “They’re really gone.” She was amazed that it was over. The old man took a deep breath and collapsed on the pew she had been hiding under. He raised a finger and pointed at the remains of a cross that still hung from the ceiling over where the pulpit had been. Her eyes followed, and it dawned on her that a force greater than that of the aliens had been called upon and it had responded. She wiped a tear that streaked down her cheek, then muttered softly, “Whoever you are…thank you.”

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