Veil of Shadow
Chapter One
Torment is a three-fold word
"Graeme you look terrible." Graeme Bains had not slept in days. Every time he drifted off to sleep, the images would flash back. "Are you still having the nightmares?" In his mind he saw terrible things. Witnessed great tragedies. He knew they weren't happening, but they seemed so real. Sometimes when he woke up he expected to find the blood on his hands.... "Graeme, I can't help you if you won't talk to me." For the first time that session, Graeme looked up at Brad, his Pastor. He had been receiving council and prayer for three solid months now, but to no avail. He was close to giving up and breaking down. Sighing, he decided he should start talking to the only person who cared. "The visions are become more realistic. They have changed. Even last week I saw people killing other people, people being robbed, being cheated, being raped even." At this Brad looked up in alarm. This was news to him. "You have seen people getting.... Violated?" Graeme nodded miserably. "But now it is not other people doing these terrible things. It is me. I am the one. The last time I slept, I woke up believing I had just murdered five people in cold blood. I can't even bear to close my eyes any more. Why am I being tormented like this? Why doesn't the Lord intervene?" Brad looked up at Graeme and sighed. It was always hard when people were encountered by a side of the Lord that they didn't understand. "The answer to this, I believe, is prayer and fasting. Obviously He is allowing you to be persecuted like this because you are strong enough to stand under it. But to find that strength you must prayerfully seek God's face and He will bolster you with His Spirit." As he finished talking, and alarm rang on the desk they were sitting next to. This session was finished. "Okay Brad, I'll try. I'll try. I'll see you on Sunday, all right?" "Sure Graeme. Remember that you can always call if you need prayer or anything else. Keep safe."
The door of the church opened and a man stepped out. At five feet ten inches, Graeme was not a large man. His slight build often gave him the impression of being easily intimidated. This was not so, as usually he had a will of stone. Not any more. The constant mental attacks had left him weakened and vulnerable. As he slipped inside his car and drove off, a figure watched him from the rooftop of the building opposite the church. This figure had the form of a large man, with a very strong build. Folded across his back were wings. He was wearing robes the darkest black. In his hand was large sword that was slowly dripping blood in a pool on the ground. This figure carried with it a feeling of death. The wings were ripped and tattered, as if they had been attacked with a very sharp blade. The very air around this figure was cold, with the chill of death. He stared out of hate filled eyes at the car as it drove off. Slowly, it unfurled its wings and with a great beat took off into the air.
Graeme was traveling along in his car when he suddenly started to feel cold. This was strange, as it was a warm day. The light inside the car started to darken. Graeme was getting a little afraid now, as it was the middle of the day. There was bright sun shining outside the car, yet inside it was darkening rapidly. And growing colder. Graeme started to shiver. He was getting really cold now. He reached over and turned on the heater. Nothing happened. "Darn thing must be broken" he muttered to himself.
The deathly being smiled wickedly as it plunged its sword into the engine of the Christians car. Everything should stop working about now. All that was left was to get the man out of the car, and to reach into his mind.
Inside the car, Graeme felt the shudder as the engine stopped. It was so dark now that he couldn't see out of any of the windows. With a loud sigh, he opened the door and was almost blinded by the bright sunlight streaming in. He was a little warmer now, but not much. He got out, and immediately saw the smoke belching from under his bonnet. "Great, just great. What an I supposed to do now?" He muttered to himself. With a louder sigh he turned to look for a pay phone.
The deathly being had watched the man get out of his car, and had enjoyed the confusion splashed across his face. Now as he turned to walk away from the car, the being landed next to Graeme and thrust his sword into his leg.
Graeme tripped over, his leg suddenly feeling as if it were on fire. His face drawn in a mask of pain, he clutched it and shook his head. He must have tripped over something. He looked around, but saw only bare ground. "Weird" he said, shaking his head. He started to get off the ground.
The being reached down to the fallen man, and with a wicked grin thrust his had straight towards Graeme's head. His hand passed straight through his head and disappeared.
Still on the ground, Graeme started screaming.
The deathly figure started laughing, a dark and menacing sound that was almost a growl.
Graeme fell to the ground, clutching his head. And still, he screamed.
Chapter One
Torment is a three-fold word
"Graeme you look terrible." Graeme Bains had not slept in days. Every time he drifted off to sleep, the images would flash back. "Are you still having the nightmares?" In his mind he saw terrible things. Witnessed great tragedies. He knew they weren't happening, but they seemed so real. Sometimes when he woke up he expected to find the blood on his hands.... "Graeme, I can't help you if you won't talk to me." For the first time that session, Graeme looked up at Brad, his Pastor. He had been receiving council and prayer for three solid months now, but to no avail. He was close to giving up and breaking down. Sighing, he decided he should start talking to the only person who cared. "The visions are become more realistic. They have changed. Even last week I saw people killing other people, people being robbed, being cheated, being raped even." At this Brad looked up in alarm. This was news to him. "You have seen people getting.... Violated?" Graeme nodded miserably. "But now it is not other people doing these terrible things. It is me. I am the one. The last time I slept, I woke up believing I had just murdered five people in cold blood. I can't even bear to close my eyes any more. Why am I being tormented like this? Why doesn't the Lord intervene?" Brad looked up at Graeme and sighed. It was always hard when people were encountered by a side of the Lord that they didn't understand. "The answer to this, I believe, is prayer and fasting. Obviously He is allowing you to be persecuted like this because you are strong enough to stand under it. But to find that strength you must prayerfully seek God's face and He will bolster you with His Spirit." As he finished talking, and alarm rang on the desk they were sitting next to. This session was finished. "Okay Brad, I'll try. I'll try. I'll see you on Sunday, all right?" "Sure Graeme. Remember that you can always call if you need prayer or anything else. Keep safe."
The door of the church opened and a man stepped out. At five feet ten inches, Graeme was not a large man. His slight build often gave him the impression of being easily intimidated. This was not so, as usually he had a will of stone. Not any more. The constant mental attacks had left him weakened and vulnerable. As he slipped inside his car and drove off, a figure watched him from the rooftop of the building opposite the church. This figure had the form of a large man, with a very strong build. Folded across his back were wings. He was wearing robes the darkest black. In his hand was large sword that was slowly dripping blood in a pool on the ground. This figure carried with it a feeling of death. The wings were ripped and tattered, as if they had been attacked with a very sharp blade. The very air around this figure was cold, with the chill of death. He stared out of hate filled eyes at the car as it drove off. Slowly, it unfurled its wings and with a great beat took off into the air.
Graeme was traveling along in his car when he suddenly started to feel cold. This was strange, as it was a warm day. The light inside the car started to darken. Graeme was getting a little afraid now, as it was the middle of the day. There was bright sun shining outside the car, yet inside it was darkening rapidly. And growing colder. Graeme started to shiver. He was getting really cold now. He reached over and turned on the heater. Nothing happened. "Darn thing must be broken" he muttered to himself.
The deathly being smiled wickedly as it plunged its sword into the engine of the Christians car. Everything should stop working about now. All that was left was to get the man out of the car, and to reach into his mind.
Inside the car, Graeme felt the shudder as the engine stopped. It was so dark now that he couldn't see out of any of the windows. With a loud sigh, he opened the door and was almost blinded by the bright sunlight streaming in. He was a little warmer now, but not much. He got out, and immediately saw the smoke belching from under his bonnet. "Great, just great. What an I supposed to do now?" He muttered to himself. With a louder sigh he turned to look for a pay phone.
The deathly being had watched the man get out of his car, and had enjoyed the confusion splashed across his face. Now as he turned to walk away from the car, the being landed next to Graeme and thrust his sword into his leg.
Graeme tripped over, his leg suddenly feeling as if it were on fire. His face drawn in a mask of pain, he clutched it and shook his head. He must have tripped over something. He looked around, but saw only bare ground. "Weird" he said, shaking his head. He started to get off the ground.
The being reached down to the fallen man, and with a wicked grin thrust his had straight towards Graeme's head. His hand passed straight through his head and disappeared.
Still on the ground, Graeme started screaming.
The deathly figure started laughing, a dark and menacing sound that was almost a growl.
Graeme fell to the ground, clutching his head. And still, he screamed.