Written by Nathaniel Adleta on Tuesday January 17th, 2012.

I was standing face to face with the end. It was coming in like a storm. The wind was picking up… smell of rain. What was I to do. I turned all about. The trees bent in submission to the wind. The angry wind. Leaves fell like hail. Brushing against me as they past. I was afraid. What to do now? At the end.

I could see the signs everywhere. This town was so still. Where was everyone. I did the only thing I knew to do. I ran. From door to door I ran. Pounding. No answers. I looked in windows and watch the people. They drank, played… went about their lives. The storm was coming, but why didn’t they know. On and on I went… door to door. Crying at the top of my lungs. Why wouldn’t they answer? Why couldn’t they hear my cry. A couple walking their dog. I ran up and began to rave. Screaming to find shelter. But they ignored me. Walked on… hand in hand. I stopped. Out of breath. My lungs heaving and struggling. What do I do?

There was a voice. Somewhere calling me. I cocked my head and listened. It was faint. I struggled against the wind ‘s roar to hear. I shivered now in the cold chill of the wind. Black clouds rolled overhead and lightning and thunder flashed and sounded. Tearing and ripping at the sky. That voice. There it was again. I couldn’t make it out. Behind me… I turned. Nothing. Nothing but the roar of the coming storm. The end was near.

“Stop.” The voice said. So close now. I whirled around. And the brilliance of what I saw overwhelmed me. I fell to my knees. An angel. That’s what I thought it was. I fell to my face in terror. Frozen and unsure what to do… couldn’t say anything. I waited. Watching the brilliance shimmer along the ground beneath me in torrents. Blinding my other senses.

“Rise. Stand on your feet.” The angel said, there was calm in his voice. A peace that calmed me to the core. I struggled to my feet, but kept my head low. I feared to look at him.

“I am your servant.” I said in a small voice that shook and cracked over the words.

The angel stepped closer to me and placed his shimmering hand on my shoulder. “Come. I have something to show you. But first leave all that behind.”

I looked up at him for the first time. Those gleaming eyes staring down into my soul. Leave what behind, I thought. I didn’t have anything. Didn’t own anything. All I wore was my dingy t-shirt and ripped jeans. A pair of old sneakers that wouldn’t have lasted much longer hung on my feet.

Without even voicing my questions he answered, “Leave that load you’re carrying here. You won’t need it anymore.”

As he spoke the words, my shoulders suddenly sank and the weight of what I had not know I carried pressed me down to the ground. I looked down at my chest and pain shot across it. There were large, heavy chains wrapped across it, tearing into my shirt and the flesh beneath it. I reached up and grabbed the chains, struggled against them, tried to tear them free. But they only sank deeper into my skin. The weight on my back grew as my awareness of it grew. The more I focused on it, the larger it became. The weight pushed me down to my knees, the ground tearing into them as the weight pressed me down.

I looked up desperately to the angel. I cried out with my soul for help. For freedom. He nodded and stepped aside. I looked up at the dark clouds and watch in awe as they tore apart. Light bursting from them, ripping a hole of clear blue sky in them. Light poured down on me. Washing me with warmth and love. Then a voice that seemed to echo all around and through me said, “You are forgiven.” At the instant those words were spoken, the chains broke free and the huge burden fell to the ground. All throughout me the light spread. Cleansing and clearing the darkest places in me. I felt the very fabric of my being purged. As the light consumed me, I felt my heart flutter. My lungs slowed their breathing and all my body seemed to relax. I closed my eyes and let my body slump to the ground. This was it. The end.

I died.

Peace consumed me. Every pain, every struggle ended and disappeared in an instant. I opened my eyes and stood to my feet. Looking down I saw that my body was new. There is no other way to describe it. New. Everything. Every cell was new. Fashioned from what seemed to be pure light. Yes, I still looked like me. But it was pure. Pure me. Cleansed. New. Fresh. Full of light and love. I ran a hand through my silky soft hair. It fell back into place gently. I looked at the front and back of my hands. New. Not young. Not old. Just new. Somehow remade… no made new.

I was now clothed in light. A radiating brilliant light that washed over me in pulses. It shimmered and sang. It sang. It has its own song. A beautiful song. One of praise. One of love and devotion. On my feet were simple shoes. Silvery white. I bent my feet and the fabric flex gently.

That’s when I saw it. My old body lie on the ground where I had lain. It was a shriveled black husk. I watched as it turned to dust and blew away in the wind. As it disappeared I looked back up at the sky. The light was still radiating. Pure love. I fell to my knees and gave thanks. Knew that I had been saved. Crossed over. Whatever this was it was indescribable.

The voice came again. “All things have become new.” I knew it spoke to me. I knew that voice now. The voice of my creator. Tears welled up in my eyes as pure joy rushed through me. I sang out… endless praised from my heart. When my song was sang. I stopped. The voice came again. “Welcome. To you I give your new name…” I don’t think I would have been able to repeat what I was called at that moment. But my new name sealed me. I was loved. Called and chosen.

“It’s time. There is a lot left for you to see and for you to know.” The angel spoke. I knew his name now. I just knew it. I knew him. And I felt known.

I nodded to him. “I’m ready now.” I said. I looked around. People went about their days. Some ran from the coming storm. Others just went about as if nothing threatened them. The end, I thought.

“Who will warn them?” I asked the angel. “You will.” He replied.

“Me?” I asked.

“Yes, in time. For now I am to be your guide. Show you what is and what is to come, so that you can tell them.” The angel spread his wings and they glimmered, shone. He looked up and rose off the ground.

I don’t know how I knew what to do. Don’t know how I did it. But I rose too. Followed him. I flew. The gravity they held me before had no meaning anymore. We flew up and out over the world to a place that was always there, on the other side and above. I left the storm behind. Left the world behind. Left my life behind. I drifted up and out with my angel guide. We talked about everything it seemed. He showed me all. I knew more than I ever had.

We passed over the clouds and a brilliant gleaming city appeared on the horizon. It shone like a beacon. Flashing and shimmering with glory. This is where my creator lived. We flew faster. There now became a sense of urgency that crackled in the air. War was coming to the heavens and to the earth. I wished to have time to take in all that I saw. The brilliance of that place. But there would be eternity for that. Now there was more pressing matters. The very reason I had been created. The angel lead me over the wall of the shimmering city. passed the gleaming buildings of glass and out over the crystal sea. We came to a place of the angels. And landed on a small rising hill that overlooked the whole place.

The angel stretched out his hand and pointed. I looked and what I saw both awed and terrified me. An army. As far as the eye could see stood the ranks of the heavenly host. Each angel was armed for battle and waiting for their orders. Each wore shimmering armor of the purest gold. They held massive swords that blazed with what can only be described as fire-lightning. I shivered. The sheer sight of all of heaven armed for war.

“The final war is coming.” The angel said. “The war to end all wars.”

The angel pointed again and I looked out and saw the leader of the army. Dressing in white and shinning like the sun. The savior of the world. The son of God stood in his chariot with four white horses at the front. I fell to my knees is awe at the splendor. Above the whole stretch of the army were other creatures flying in circles above. Each was unique. Wings, arms, heads, all too wonderful and frightening to describe. All of heaven was ready for this war.

“Come. There is more to see.” The angel said lifting off the small rise and into the sky above the city. We passed over the army to the other side of them. Below us spread out a massive crowd. Numbering in the millions. People. All made new like me. Shinning in their new selves. I knew them. All of them in an instant. They were those who came before. Those called and chosen. Those to stand witness to the coming war. Those who were cleansed by the light, by the love, by the sacrifice of the savior. They all sang in one voice. Praises to the lamb. I saw those I had loved there. Those I had known on earth. Those we had long died. All new now and singing. The sound was indescribable. So pure and full of awe and love. It was the purest of all songs. It came from within them.

We flew faster now. The angel led. I followed. Taking in all. Then I stopped suddenly. Staring down and what I couldn’t describe.

The angel paused in flight and turned to face what I gazed at. And said, “Those are those who are asleep. Not yet awake. They will rise when the time comes. They have been set apart and are waiting to be awakened. Just like you. They have been called and chosen.

I stared down. Millions lay in what looked like a sleeping state. They shook in their dreams. Struggling to wake. Some glowed. Some lay dim. All asleep. There were those awake walking among them. Speaking to them. Touching them. Encouraging them. Watching them. Some even on their knees, crying out for them. Some cried over them. And still others wept loudly. It was not the crying of sadness but of what I can only describe as birthing. A deep groaning came out of them. Like a mother trying to give birth. It was such an awesome sight to behold. And I wondered if anyone had done that for me while I slept. And somehow I knew they had.

“Come.” The angel called to me. I followed him once again. We passed out and over the multitude of sleepers. Out beyond the cloud. Out to the beyond. And we went down. Down and down. The air around me grew cold. I shivered. The clouds shone red. A brilliant red. And black, so black. It was like passing through new smoke. We passed through the thick black smoke, and the heat now. So hot. I felt it but it didn’t burn. It tore at me… but didn’t hurt me. The light around me glowed. Mixing and mingling with the smoke. It broke through it as I flew down. Tearing a path. Behind me the smoke replaced the path I had tore in it. I was engulfed but not overtaken. Evil. That’s what surrounded me now. Arrogant evil. Triumphant evil. Darkness. All I could see now was my guide, shinning his own path through the black smoke.

We emerged from the smoke down into an open space. The ground below looked to be on fire. The rocks below were scorched and cracked. Great caves and canyons covered the ground. Huge broken structures lay scattered. This was not a good place. And there was a pit. A deep pit. Bitch black that seemed to suck the light from around it. It pulled at the air and pulled the black smoke in. Nothing could be seem beyond its mouth. We slowed and stopped. I saw now that there were people here. Chained. Lost. Each alone. They couldn’t talk. Didn’t know they weren’t alone. They were chained. Misery and pain surrounded each of them. Their eyes were blinded. White sockets where eyes would have been. Their tongues were dry and cracked. They were unable to feel them. There was weeping. Weeping of sand from their sockets. The chattered their teeth. Chattered and moaned. The pain and misery was so great here that the air was thick with it. Think with the pain and I felt it all. The lost and the hopeless. Chained and broken. Unable to hear or speak. Unable to feel the light or the warmth that I had felt. That I felt. That consumed me.

“These are those who are still lost. Those called but not chosen. Those who heard but didn’t answer. They were those who had been told. But didn’t answer. They didn’t heed. Didn’t care. Too consumed in self to see the truth. Blinded.” The angel spoke the words, but he spoke what I already knew.

There were those I knew here too. People I had known in life. People I had left behind. Lost. My heart broke for them. They had to hear. Had to see. I now saw that there were others here. Walking among these lost. Those that shone with light like me. The cried out for the lost. Their prayers rose like incense into the air, past the smoke, past the dark to the savior. Prayers from the lost.

I now hear a chanting sound. We flew out over the pit. Past it to a place beneath the world. It was a hateful place. Pride was its pillar. Jealously its foundation. On this expanse the fallen host were assembled. Twisted in their hatred of the light. Wearing black armor, that gleamed dark against the smoke and bitter stone. They held weapons, as twisted as themselves. Covered in the blood of the people they tormented. They were evil. They spoke in lies. Mocked and called out in blasphemes. They hated and cursed. They were children of flesh and desire. Passions and lusts. They held fists to the sky and cursed the savior. Chomping at the bit. Rearing for a fight. They were a mob. They were angels damned. Angels full of pride and arrogance. They looked to their leader., an angel who, at first, to my eyes seemed almost beautiful. He stood above them. Chest forward head back. Evil poured out from him and consumed everything near. Lies and furies swirled around him. He was the father of all this evil. His shadow was that of a snake, a dragon. His tongue flicked out, consumed light. His eyes were black holes.

I looked at the angel. My questions swirling in my head. He looked back but did not say anything. He didn’t need to. I knew.

“Come.” he said. “It’s time to return to the earth. The war is right on the doorstep. Right around the corner. The time is almost here. And there is much for you to see.” With his words he rose again… I followed.

We drifted up and out. Out of the black smoke. Into the shining of the sun. The glimmering of the moon. The torrent of the storm. Once again we stood on the street I had left. My town. My friends. My people. My country.

“Why can’t they see what’s coming?” I asked my guide.

He looked at me. “You know why. They are blinded. They’ve been told what’s coming, but they continue on.” The angel stepped close to me and placed an hand on my shoulder. “Now is the time for your gifts to flow. You have seen the heavens and the dark. Seen the army’s massing for war. Now you will see with eyes that see what’s to come. That gift is yours. Write it down. Write it down for them to read. Some will read and understand. Some will scoff. Others will laugh. But write it down. Give it to them to read. Open your farseeing eyes. Warn them to turn away from their paths of destruction. Give them His warning. You are unleashed. Reveal.” And with his last words he turned. Rose up and into the storm and disappeared. I was left alone on the street.

I looked down and my clothes dimmed. Transformed themselves. My jeans and t-shirt returned. My skin dried and cracked. I was back. Far from home… with a task at hand the only thing on my mind. I walked slowly back to my house. Opened and shut the door. Took my shoes off and slung them onto the floor. I stretch my back.

I walked into my small living room. It was dim. A single candle lit the room from the table there. I pulled out my chain and sat down. Pulled out my pen and ink. And paper… lots of paper. Lined paper. I closed my eyes… let go and began to write… as the furious flood of future pounded my senses.

There was a wall. A dark wall. Inlaid with brick and mortar. Slimed covered and worn. This wall was covered in prints. Pictures of those lost…. in a war. Hundreds not found. A child, blue eyes and blond. Lost. Parents, sons, all lost. I placed my hand on this wall. It was cold, but irritated my skin. It crackled and sparked. Beeped and hummed. There was a long thin sting. Leading out from it. It lead to a fence and I followed this fence. For miles it went wrapping around a place. As shelter. There were tents. Orange and yellow. Right in front of me were people. Purple robes. They were religious. They work among the people I saw there. Hurting people. All pocked and scared. Burnt. A book sat in the middle of my sight now. Six letters. All large and malformed. They were crying blood. This book written with hope but torn out of time. The cover was black. A man stood there. In a suit. He smiled. His named long and sounded foreign. He called out to the world to change. But his motives were not of peace but of war.

Another time. Darkness in a room. Cameras and lights shone. This was a meeting. Two men spoke in chairs. One spoke with an accent heavy. The other spoke crisp and clear… almost sang his words. They debated all and the people listened. There was a smile on one and the other had a frown. Numbers on a board. Six and ten. The time six and ten. I saw jokes. Laughing and cursing. A show… TV. Married once and not again. Tells of lusts gone by. Ratings max. Green bars or a bar. Silver mugs for drink. Crying and making love. They mock and sign.

Future present and past. Come and gone. A cry goes out and deceives the masses. The sweet song we all want to hear… oh so good to hear. I see now a tomb. Silver reeds and gold plates. Someone loved is gone now. Torn down by age. Signaling the beginning of the end. Large funeral. Horses and carts. Kilts and stumps. Organs galore. Songs of morning. But they are happy he is gone. They show the world their tears they created. It was planned to come. Planned behind closed doors. A temple now it struck up. Build from blood. This temple a sign of peace but planned for doom. Six arrows and a scar. A scar across the temple. A sign of the end. A call to the end to come.

There is now four… countries. Big and small. Large and weak. They all come together to bring a message to the world. The end is coming. They form a pact… widespread and written. Signing such a thing in the light, but its words never read. One man, no two. Or is it three. Would you believe if I told you anyway. There is now four. Four that’s the number and then after the blood is spilt there is two. And split these countries are… not over land no there is no land. Only blood. Hidden and sinking into the ground. Sinking sand. Some animal, moans. It’s been slaughtered for a rite. As a sign a sign of the end. You can run, but can you hide.

My sight clears and a scene comes now. Bright lights, wide over a field. There are so many, many people. A coming together. The people stand together. Hoping for hope. But what comes. There is light gone and coming. Lights so many lights. Could you see the lights if you looked? That’s what I saw. Those lights. The light festival. In May or marching on. A song comes from this all. About the lights. A song with morning words… a dirge. A dirge of death but speaking life. Do you hear it. Spinning on a wheel. No a disc. That’s it a disk. Silvery red. White and gray lines… for the words that say moon over death. Or is it glow over blood. Not important.

A war comes now. A war over time. History and culture. Not a war of peace but a war for war. The soldiers wear red… brown and blue. Black circles. On their faces. That’s what I see. They are painted for the war. Like barbarians for hill battles of blood. The doom is heavy on this.

A tiger. No a lion. No some sort of sprawling cat. It is old. So old. The oldest one living now dead. It’s name a fruit. What does it mean? A sign. A sign of the end. The tiger takes with him life. And that life a girl. He face is spread out over the planet… used to call for peace. Used to warn and show.

You wanted to be told. You wanted someone to tell you and so you get what’s coming to you. You ask for a sign and here it is. It’s come can you see it? Still blind?

Black and red and silvery blue. The blood runs silver from the bullets and bombs. You think I scream? I speak. Keep it up. Keep up the living. They die.

A rope now… and a large bucket. New invention to change the world. So simple but everyone exclaims how it will be the future. The paten contested. A legal war for ownership. This bucket sparks and glows. The cure for a dying planet. It’s been found but it’s a sign. Just another sign that things will end. You asked for a sign.

I see a Wings a bird. Three stalks from its chest. This is a symbol of a nations rise. A new one not seen in ages. It’s people are fierce. New and fresh. Made from mud and straw. They rise quick only to be burnt from the sun. Shattered the instant they rise. They had such hopes. Such hopes to be a people not to be a people. They are called Noring. Norien. The lust ones. The lost ones. A fierce people. They speak the language of all. The one language of all. Kind and sweet their words, but look close something isn’t right. Can you smell. Sweet teas. That’s the smell they have, of leave cut short and quick. New grass or summers rain. Oh how they sign to you. Listen awhile and see who they really are. You’ve been warned. Flash, flash and more flashes. That’s what they do. Their specialty. Flashing. Taking that soul and snapshots. Riddles and puzzles and shining hair. Braided raw. No rare. They rise up at night and sleep the day away. Can you see their hearts? What hearts?

A new way to cook. Sun and moon… who cares. Ovens of bronze lines forks. Food goes in and food comes out. Baked or not so. The focus of these things… no they focus things.

Most religions are old, but the new one is life. It signs to those who listen and twist them. Cult or not. No. Dreams peace and love, but takes life and blood. Roll and moll.

Teaming fish all the same. Fish after fish made from other fish. World hunger… gone. Fish made from fish. Fish everywhere but they don’t live long. So health for you but in the end they’ll be your end. You’ve been warned.

Shining sticks. Lights along the ground. The roads stretch out into the night. Can you follow them or do they follow you?

All these things I saw. With eyes far and near. You can hear and listen now. Up to you to decide what they mean. Do they speak to you? Do you speak to them? Crack in the window of time.

I placed my pen down and stopped writing. My head pounding as the world surrounded me. I looked down to see that I had written the words in blood. It ran over the pages and poured off the table. War was coming and the world wouldn’t see it coming. It would spring up fast. The call goes out.