The second coming, p.9
The Second Coming, page 9
“I’m very sorry,” Samuel says, turning red because of his ill-mannered friends. “I’ll be back in just a second.”
The Messiah nods, then continues addressing his audience. Samuel removes his headphones and quickly gets up. In his hurry, he topples over his chair. He looks at it for a second, considering how long it will take to pick up. Too long, he decides. He rushes to the window.
Eric and Ronnie are standing on a trash can on the deck in order to reach the window. Next to them, a black cat blinks at them and meows pitifully. It was just about to jump into the trash to search for scraps when these two boys showed up out of nowhere and rolled the bin up onto the deck, then over to the window. The cat, still focused on the smell of leftover fish inside the bin, is not happy that its access is now blocked.
But the two boys are completely unaware of the cat’s presence. When Samuel finally opens the window, Ronnie whispers to him. Eric hands him two pieces of paper, then reaches into his pants pocket, pulls out his smartphone, and snaps a selfie with Samuel and the Messiah in the background.
Samuel hurriedly walks back to the table, reading what is written on the papers. Eyes still on the paper, he sits, forgetting all about the toppled chair, and ends up falling on the floor. His face grows hot from embarrassment, especially as his friends burst out laughing outside. He casts them a murderous look as he gets up and rights the chair, trying to appear more dignified.
Once seated, he rolls his eyes to the ceiling and takes a deep breath. The Messiah, who has kept his face solemn throughout the whole ordeal, now asks as he covers up the mic with his hand, “What’s wrong, Samuel?”
“It’s my friends,” Samuel begins and then stops as the Messiah removes his hand from the mic.
“What would your friends like to know?” the Messiah asks encouragingly.
“They each have a question to ask you,” he answers, then quickly adds, “That is, of course, if you have the time and if you consider their questions relevant, because, of course—”
The Messiah smiles and gently places his hand on the boy’s arm. It’s surprisingly cold, immediately stopping Samuel’s rush of words. He stares at the hand. The Messiah withdraws it quickly and says, “Okay, go ahead. What would they like to know?”
Samuel scratches his head and rubs his eyes with reluctance as he slowly puts his headphones back on. He doesn’t want to ask these questions. The Messiah’s kind smile, however, gives him courage, and he finally begins, very hesitantly, “Eric would like to know who do you like more—Michael Jackson, Prince, the Beatles, Elvis, or . . . Kanye West?” The Messiah looks very serious for a moment and then laughs for some time.
When he finally falls silent, he puts his head down as if going into a trance, closes his eyes, slowly lifts his head, opens his eyes again, and peers directly at the glowing black box on the table.
As the Messiah does so, everyone listening to him feels a sensation crawl up their spine. Most people know the feeling all too well—of being watched by an unknown, invisible entity when they think they are alone in the room. Several of them look around, but their eyes only meet each other’s. Even though they can’t see it, they finally realize what is happening—they’re being watched by the Messiah.
Meanwhile, the Messiah says hypnotically, sternly and authoritatively, “Everyone who hears my voice, please close your eyes. Keep them closed for as long as I say so.”
Eyes across the entire globe start closing.
•••
At another movie theater, in the US, people fidget restlessly in their seats. Those with eyes still open see themselves reflected back in live video footage on the big screen. They alert the people around them whose eyes are closed: “We’re on the screen now! What is happening?”
The voice of the Messiah echoes around the theater. “I want you all to firmly envision what you want to have or be in life, and it’s this that you shall have or be in the afterworld. Concentrate. Now, Samuel, press the red button, and your friend’s question shall be answered.”
This announcement is enough to affect even those skeptics stubbornly keeping their eyes open all this time. They finally close their eyes, and within seconds, there’s not a single pair of eyes open in the entire movie theater, or in the one in London, or in the French family’s den. They now all have their eyes closed, blind to the footage of themselves playing back on the screens in front of them.
•••
Outside the Turner trailer, Eric and Ronnie perch at the window with their eyes closed. It’s a wonder they can keep their balance on the trash can as they hold on to the exterior window frame.
Inside the trailer, Samuel’s bright-blue eyes are still open, and they’re looking directly at the Messiah as he asks, “What do you see when you close your eyes?”
“Everyone’s wishes, dreams, and visions—of wealth, peace, and happiness. The same as you shall see when you close your eyes,” the Messiah answers calmly.
Samuel nods, and as he presses the red button, he too closes his eyes.
The Messiah’s eyes remain wide open. They seem to grow much bigger and brighter as visions begin to appear in them as if projected onto a screen.
•••
The broadcast begins to play the Beatles’ “Tomorrow Never Knows.” The visions that appear in the Messiah’s eyes show a man standing off to one side, watching the events play out. The man is the Antichrist, and he isn’t at all what most might imagine him to look like; he’s a tall, handsome man, a distinguished model type, dressed in a finely tailored black suit—with no visible horns, no apparent serpent tail or pitchfork, and without all the stereotypical Antichrist images so often portrayed in movies. He watches in prideful awe as the music in the background grows louder; a montage of disturbing historical events flash across the Messiah’s eyes, each its own version of the grotesque, a compilation of blood, smoke, violence, and tears. The Messiah’s eyes glow red.
Multitudes witness the brutal violence and inhumane treatment of Jesus Christ leading up to his crucifixion.
Then, in rapid succession:
Images of Black slaves hanging from trees as a group of White men pose for the camera, reminiscent of a hunter standing next to his prized trophy deer.
President Abraham Lincoln shot in the back of the head while attending a play at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, DC.
The Great Depression’s soup kitchen lines.
Adolf Hitler animatedly giving a speech to a large group of his followers. Jews in concentration camps. Nazi troops marching in formation. In Tokyo, Japan, Kotobuki Maternity Hospital’s director intentionally neglecting infants, resulting in the murder of 103 babies.
The Vietnam War where bloodied soldiers try to climb to their feet as gunshots ring in the distance.
The assassination of President John F. Kennedy during his motorcade tour.
The assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., with several people crying over his dead body.
Ethiopian children starving from malnutrition and hunger.
Rodney King being beaten, and the LA riot’s smoke-filled air as civilians loot and burn buildings and cars.
The aftermath of the 9/11 attack on the Twin Towers in New York City, people running in the streets, covered in dust.
Multiple school shootings throughout the US. COVID-19 patients on ventilators and people on the streets wearing face masks.
George Floyd lying facedown on the ground, handcuffed, with a police officer’s knee on his neck.
Black Lives Matter street protestors worldwide walking through tear gas clouds, debris, holding up signs against inequality, police brutality, injustice, and racism.
The January 6 Capitol insurrection in progress.
Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine, leading to mass destruction and death.
The wars and conflicts happening around the world; prostitutes standing on the street; explicit online pornography being viewed by young men; gangs committing violence and selling drugs on the street corners; drug addicts shooting up, taking opioids, and smoking crack cocaine; a gay pride parade with men dressed as raunchy drag queens; two women marrying before an ecstatic gathering.
Intensified destruction, chaos, and catastrophic events leading up to the Rapture.
As the last scene fades out and the song reaches its conclusion, there’s total darkness, and the Messiah’s eyes stop burning a fiery red.
Samuel’s eyes are still closed. Eric and Ronnie’s eyes are also closed; all three friends envision their perfect world. They all have peaceful smiles. They cannot see the Messiah’s lips twisting into a smirk as he glowers at the young boys with eyes flashing.
Samuel opens his eyes and presses the red button when the music stops. At the window, Eric and Ronnie open their eyes as well. There’s silence for several seconds as the three boys adjust to reality. Samuel and the Messiah stare at each other without blinking. The Messiah’s eyes have returned to their former, kind expression. Even though Samuel feels like he’s in a stupor, the boy smiles at the Messiah, and the Messiah smiles back.
Outside, Eric whispers to Ronnie, “I told ya he’d pick the Beatles!”
“I don’t care!” Ronnie whispers back. “What about my question? When will Samuel ask him that? When will the Messiah answer it?” His voice rises, and Eric quickly hushes his friend, pointing toward Samuel and whispering, “Look!”
Samuel lifts the mic and says, “I don’t have any more questions to ask. I think this is a good time to conclude my interview. I guess everyone should open their eyes now?”
The Messiah nods as Samuel continues, “My dad will be home soon. I hope everyone will spread the word about your return. Everyone can tell this is very real, and we have to do what’s right for . . .” He pauses here, not sure what to say. What is this right for? he wonders. The Messiah, noticing his hesitation, hurriedly mouths something, and Samuel repeats it: “For mankind.”
He stops and asks the Messiah directly, “Don’t you wanna say a prayer or something holy-like to the listeners?”
The Messiah briefly looks away from Samuel. He seems to be contemplating something, and Samuel wonders whether he’s coming up with a prayer. But why is it taking him so long? he thinks. It doesn’t take that long for Grandma Ruth, or even me, to come up with the right prayer for the occasion. And he’s the Messiah, after all! Shouldn’t he know immediately what to say?
The Messiah’s authoritative voice breaks the stream of his thoughts as exit theme music begins to play.
“No, I believe we’ve gotten the message across, Samuel. I would just like to thank everyone for their time, and I will be in touch with every one of you, I promise. Thank you again for tuning in to the New World Order Broadcast. Until next time, enjoy life’s pleasures.” The theme music ends.
Samuel presses the green button, unplugs his device from the little black box, and removes his headphones. The beams of colored lights return, shoot back into the box, and disappear. Remembering his manners, he asks the Messiah politely, “Messiah? Sir? Would you like a drink of water?”
“Yes, thank you, Samuel,” the Messiah answers.
Samuel walks to his bedroom, kneels at his dresser, and opens the bottom drawer. Among photos of Rachel Turner, some personal possessions, and the Holy Bible is the ancient bronze water jug that Grandma Ruth once took from the Turners’ trailer, now wrapped in a white silk cloth. Samuel takes out the jug and stands.
The Messiah puts the glowing black box back into his sleeve. As he glances around the trailer home, his eyes fall on the two boys still watching him through the window, following his every move. He smiles at them.
“This is really freaky, Ronnie!” Eric whispers to his friend, his face serious. Ronnie, annoyed because Samuel didn’t ask his question, snaps, “It’s no freakier than you dressed in a tutu, huh?”
“Shut up! Idiot!” Eric’s face flushes. “My mom makes me do it! Don’t make me kick your ass in front of Jesus!”
“With what? Your ballerina shoes?” Ronnie asks, laughing. Eric opens his mouth to reply when Ronnie shushes him, whispering, “Quiet! Look! He’s coming back.”
Samuel sits down, holding the bronze jug filled with fresh, filtered cold water. He hands it to the Messiah, who reaches for it with both hands. But when the Messiah makes contact with the jug, much to the horror of Samuel and his two friends at the window, his hands begin to smoke and fizzle, and he starts violently shaking. He lets out a roar from the burning pain and drops the jug to the floor. The smell of burning flesh fills the kitchen.
Samuel is shocked to see actual blood flow—not from the Messiah’s hands but from the spilled jug itself. He stares at the sanguine fluid on the floor, transfixed. Then another shocking thing happens: someone swears out loud. Samuel jerks his head to the window to see whether Eric is stupid enough to swear in front of the Messiah, even though the voice doesn’t sound like his friend at all.
But Eric is pointing at the Messiah with horror written all over his face. He quickly pulls out his smartphone to examine the selfie he took when he arrived. To his astonishment, he notices an empty chair in the photo where the Messiah was sitting. Samuel turns toward the Messiah, and sure enough, it’s he who is swearing. Samuel stares, terror in his eyes.
He finally manages to squeak out, “My grandmother gave me that jug. She said it has been passed down from many generations.” At the window, Eric and Ronnie look on with extreme fear as Samuel continues, “She also said it’s holy, and there’s a rumor that the Messiah, Jesus Christ himself, drank from it days after the Resurrection.” He stops. Several things finally begin to dawn upon him.
“I guess it’s not a rumor, huh?!” he asks, looking directly at the Messiah. The Messiah smiles, but his smile is no longer gentle and kind. It’s horrifying and sinister, and his eyes flash red.
Samuel’s face turns white, and he inches his chair away from the table. He asks shakily, “Who are you?” The answer comes to him. “You’re not the Messiah,” he blurts out. “You’re the Antichrist! Admit it!”
Before the terrified boys’ eyes, the in-disguise Messiah transforms into the Antichrist: the same man who appeared as the bystander in the traumatic footage, with black hair, a mustache, and a beard and wearing a black suit, black silk shirt, and red tie.
His eyes now completely red, he laughs chillingly and answers, “Please, treat me with utmost respect. I come in peace.”
Samuel tries to scramble up from the chair, but he trips and falls, shaking uncontrollably. This time, his friends don’t laugh at him. The Antichrist, too, gets up. He looms over Samuel, who tries to back away, crawling on his hands.
Crying, “Get away from me!” he grabs onto the table and tries to put it between himself and the Antichrist, but the Antichrist knocks it over like a toy. “What do you want from me?”
“I’ve already gotten what I came for: souls!” the Antichrist answers in a deep, devilish voice. His voice abruptly changes, and Samuel hears his father. “Thanks to you, you good for nothing kid! You’ll never amount to anything!”
A surge of anger gives Samuel courage, and the boy impulsively jumps to his feet and shouts, “You’re not my father! You’re worse than him! You tricked me!”
“And you helped me trick all those poor, poor people, Samuel Turner!” the Antichrist jeers in his devilish voice. “Your father is right. You really are stupid and good for nothing!” He laughs loudly as Samuel’s face turns red from anger and shame.
Meanwhile, Eric and Ronnie goggle at each other outside the window, dazed, frightened, and confused. The Antichrist glares at all three boys one by one and declares, “All I want now are your souls. Submit, or you all shall die. You choose your destiny and what happens to you from this day forward.”
For several seconds, Samuel feels helpless. He’s terrified of the Antichrist, who is powerful and can easily hurt him and his friends. Giving up his soul crosses his mind for one second, but he shoves the thought away. His face changes, becoming still and determined as he faces the Antichrist and says, albeit a little nervously, “I choose God! I love Jesus Christ and believe he died on the cross so that we may have eternal life in heaven. You don’t scare me!” His voice grows more confident as he continues, “Begone! You have no place here.”
The Antichrist seems taken aback. He takes a few steps back, and Samuel walks forward, making a cross with his fingers. However, it takes the Antichrist only a few seconds to regain his composure. “Don’t be stupid, Samuel. Be wise. Make the right choice,” he coaxes, his voice gentle again.
Samuel shakes his head, but the Antichrist continues, “Think about it. This is your chance to make your father proud. This is your only chance to have everything you ever wanted in life. And then your father will finally love you as his son. Isn’t that what you want?”
Samuel stops in his tracks, torn. The hurt he has suffered through all these years of neglect appears in his eyes, soon replaced with longing, and then yearning as he appears to reconsider his decision. But then the faces of Grandmother Ruth and his mother, Rachel, flash before his eyes, their expressions resolute and encouraging. Samuel scowls up at the Antichrist, the yearning in his eyes replaced once again with determination. He knows what to do.
“No!” he shouts. “You can’t tempt me, no matter what you do. Get out! You don’t belong here. You’re a liar!”
The Antichrist’s eyes turns black with anger, but he sounds calm when he bares his teeth in a cruel smile and says, “Very well. You’ll change your mind over time. I shall rule the earth for seven magnificent years! Not even your God will be able to save you! But for now, since you dared to refuse me . . .”
He stops talking and jerks his gaze to the window, where, much to Samuel’s horror, Eric and Ronnie are instantly covered with spiders. They start screaming and hop off the bin, shaking their arms and legs and trying in vain to brush the spiders off their faces. Samuel watches aghast as the boys continue to scream.
