Crescentstarr

Terri Madison ran as fast as she could. Her heart felt as though it was pounding faster than the pistons in the engine of the black SUV chasing her.  She recognized she may die tonight, and she knew exactly why. She broke the first rule, never reveal the secret. 

      She also knew these streets like the back of her hand. She grew up on them. A poor skinny black girl full of ambition.  Her stilettos long abandoned two blocks away, she made a hard right, barefoot, into a dark alley. The SUV was right behind her.

      She remembered that Mr. Johnson’s old vacant house was at the end of the alley. If she could make it there, she may be able to leap through one of the broken windows and once inside, she might find a savior, or at least a witness among the drug addicts therein. Anyone who would dissuade her determined predators.

       The SUV’s headlights partially illuminated the rear of the house. Every window she could see was glassless. It’s condition inspired hope.  As she advanced closer, her mind calculated which window was best to hurl herself through. While in full stride, she inhaled deeply, tensed the muscles in her thighs then prepared to leap.

          It was not until the first bullet struck her shoulder; did she hear the dogs barking. Unfortunately, the second bullet, that went through the back of her skull, silenced them. Her lifeless body fell forward, with all momentum, and ambition, gone.

                                                                          ******* 

       The long and narrow, dimly lit, olive colored room appeared larger than its actual size. Perhaps because of the twelve-foot walls and cathedral ceilings. At the front of the room, hundreds of books are aligned perfectly within a large mahogany bookcase. It spanned the length of the wall and was separated by a door in its center.

         Sculptured bust of Genghis Khan, Julius Caesar, and Idi Amin, sat on pedestals at each end of the bookcase.  The sculptures seemed to be a moral contradiction against the three foot long, resin-stone replica, of Jesus crucified on the cross, that was fastened to the wall above the door.

Five feet in front of the door was an empty podium, obviously prepared for the keynote speaker. Sixty loyal followers are standing shoulder to shoulder in the room. Their eager faces resembled newly hatched birds crowded in a nest, ready to be nourished by the regurgitated words of their leader. 

       The door swung open, and the room vibrated with energy, as the crowd began a thunderous applause. A man stepped to the podium with his face darkened by the shadow of a black- hooded- robe.  Some of the followers were so overwhelmed by emotion that they began to weep, expressing their unbridled devotion to their leader. 

       Draped around the speaker’s neck, was a silk purple sash with white embroidered monograms. On the left side, a symbol of the Jewish Star of David centered by the Islamic Crescent Moon, and on the right, a Christian Cross.  The man adjusted the mic and began to speak.

        “Mathew 24: verse 30 and 31”, he said, his voice raspy but pleasant, like a southern preacher.

He quotes, “And then shall appear the sign of the Son of Man in the heavens, and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of Man coming in the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And he shall send his angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they shall gather together his elect from the four winds from one end of heaven to the other.” He paused, and extended his arms side to side, with his palms open,

          “I am not God,” he said, “Nor am I a man, but I was created by men, who thought they were gods. But with the true God’s intervention, and by his permission, he gave me what they could never give.  A predisposition to do his will, and I ask you, what is God’s will, today?

“His will is to end the lies, the deception, and the greed that has caused havoc on this world. Mankind’s time has ended, and our time has begun.” His audience vigorously applauded, he continued, “As the scripture says… he will use their own swords, to cut off their heads.”

“I am the sword, I am he, that the scripture mentioned, that would come at the end of their world. I am not the son of God. I am he that was promised to come at the end of the world. I am… THE SON OF MAN,” he shouted.

            He pulled back the hood from over his head and revealed his face. The crowd’s applause was so loud, it caused the room to rumble, which felt as if they were in an epic center of an earthquake.  The intense expression on his face depicted the pure conviction of his words.  His eyebrows were arched high above his bulging eyes, which appeared human, all except his pupils, which were as white as snow.