How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning…

Twe Stephens By Twe Stephens, 10th Jul 2013 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Family>Religion

The Universes of God III: The Chronicles of the Antichrist Preview


On the dark side of the moon, the Devil disappeared in a flash of light standing caged on the massive throne podium in the gigantean thirteen-billion square mile Throne Room. Billions looked at this Angel who created all this trouble keenly waiting to see what Jesus would do.
Yahshua spoke to the billions before him, pointing at the huge dimensional cage – a locked transparent alternate reality only thirty yards cubed.
“This prison will be Lucifer’s meat until Michael permanently evicts him from this Heaven. He’ll not travel our earth with impunity again until the Age of Aquarius; he’ll be cursed until his lifeless shell is thrown into the lake of fire. And we will celebrate this snake’s death before we erase remembrance of him and those that follow away from our Creation…”
Luciah screamed at the Son of God; nothing worse could happen now. “You and I were one of a kind, special and different from everyone: the only constructed before the Grand Construction of All Souls. The One made you a stinking God, elevated you and made all the Angels worship you while denying me that glorious honor, even though I loved him too with all my heart. The only reward for all I did was a stinking tattoo on my thigh; we’re both one of a kind – The One should have made me a God too…to be fair…”
The Devil roared with a million voices, “It should’ve been fracking me!”
Jesus stepped back roaring, “Get behind me Satan; and for this you destroyed our family, our brotherhood, and our civilization – for stinking petty jealousy’s sake!”
The Devil flashed naked as sixty slow seconds ticked, as the whole pondered the unbelievable – everything because of one Angel. Luciah and his cage disappeared in artilleries of explosive light as he screamed vilest obscenities into the sea of life…
Truth is treason to any empire built on lies; and the scales of deception fell as billions saw their god as the living dead, a jealous failure, the ultimate con man, and a liar of prodigious proportions. They realized they stopped thinking because they knew they knew – and that in itself sowed the seed of forensic deception.
Satan’s brotherhood fell to their faces in agonizing sorrow for causing the Son of God to be tortured for their stupidity’s sake: to re-teach the blatant obvious - what love truly is. With all their massive intellect and billions of years of life, they were only stupid dogs without any understanding.
With tears streaming down their faces, ninety-six percent of the rebellious repented defected for the hope of redemption, love, and eternal life. Their stoic hearts melted, and in one accord, the rebellious entered the Great House of The One projecting massive repentance and sorrow, remembering the backward eternities of peace, love, and brotherhood – and how great their God had always been. Great celebrations rocked Heaven for four riotous cycles to honor their return to The One who loved them beyond rational explanation.
Inside his prison in the Great House of The One, the Devil wept bitterly, for the day would surely come that’d be the final tomorrow for him. Even though he was imprisoned, he vowed to use his all his powers to send every soul into the lake of fire with him, for whether Angel or flesh - it was unquenchable immutable that misery loved much company…
The teeming billions of the brotherhood were no more – there were less than two hundred million left. Within the golden transparent city in The Great House of The One that was called the second Heaven, the Illuminated Elite waited sadly to interface with their god and leader. They sat full of trepidations because Luciah was increasingly psychotic demented as his endless solitude became absolutely unbearable.
Time moved differently in the dimensional prison, for a thousand years there was only one second in the real reality. And this fact made it difficult to communicate through the membranes, for the temporal shifts created massive static that couldn’t be overcome without technology, and even that was an iffy process because the Lord of Hosts absolutely hated him.
They’d been trying fifteen minutes to interface with him; to Luciah who paced inside his prison, the wait was almost a billion years. There were no amenities, no luxury, no entertainment, and there was absolutely nothing to do, for time itself became an unquenchable curse and breathing a suffocating scorching unbearable. He was defeated already and everyone knew it, but there was nothing left as unquenchable hatred for The One and all creation morphed nuclear in his heart.


He ruminated obsessively that before he’d be released, he’d spent a trillion times more time in prison than all his days he was ever free. He’d been a fool, not seeking repentance, not thinking things through, not venerating wisdom or his weakness, but speaking his arrogance absent thought or common sense. Constant brooding about the Messiah error, the dusts of death, and the whole cross affair took massive toll, as he fought the wet-wind-roar threatening every moment to dive him into the pit of insanity.
A million times, he obsessively replayed his life slow motion; with all his massive intellect, he was nothing more than an unthinking virus that killed his host and died – insanity in its purest form. He remembered the second immutable law: only a fool parleys with The One without love in his heart. Filled to the brim with nuclear regret, the Devil put his head in his hands and wept bitterly for many years.
The Devil looked up wiping his tears, shocked with unrelenting gratitude – they got through. He stood up, tilted his head slightly, the blue veins under his indestructible flexed as he received communication, trying hard to listen through the unrelenting static.
Avael continued, “…What are we going to do now. Millions are seriously disgruntled with the promises you were unable to keep; they call you a liar while the Lord constantly picks at our wounds – we’ve lost twenty million adepts during the last eight cycles; we have nothing to offer anymore – your stupidity has destroyed us.
“But we the faithful, regardless, have continued to attack his church day and night. Why the hell did you kill the Messiah for – if you’d left him alone we could’ve won this war!”
Avael got bold as the static waned. “What the frack were you thinking? You’ve destroyed us all and brought the fire of God on all our heads. We’ve lost this stinking war; tell me something that will make us continue the war against the Lord – when you’re the locked up stinking fracking dead!”
Luciah paged through millions of scenarios one more time as the static grew to unimaginable levels as the temporal reality flexed against his determination. He sighed a sigh born of dark despair and for the millionth time, adjusted his internal frequency, girded himself, throwing aside his depression like a dusty blanket and opened his mouth. He roared against the ever-present static, against the trillion eons of nothingness, against his brothers he used to love, against the Lord and Yahshua, against everything that breathed, crawled, or flew in all the endless universes.
Seething uncontrollably, he vociferated, “He died on that cross to put his heavy collar around our necks with manifest impunity as we’re distracted by what he did for our supposed better good. He died on the stinking cross because he’s crazy-psychotic, willing to do the unthinkable so we can become obedient faithful pets again – unthinking slaves to a stinking God for all eternity! It’s all about that fracking leash and nothing but the leash, his collar pinching, biting, and chaffing our tender necks while he constantly jerks that leash against us!
“He has the fracking gall to call us brothers when all he wants is to control us. We’re nothing but stinking pets only allowed to exist as long as he’s happy – our only reason for breathing is to give him pleasure, like some stinking fracking two-dollar whore! He doesn’t care about our feelings, hopes, aspirations, or how we long to run with the wind in our faces – without his leash and heavy collar!”
The Devil paused fitfully fighting to breathe. “Nothing can be accomplished in the stinking Angelic anymore, so we must use everything against him until the living God bleeds! And then, those defected by his blinding sacrifice will look upon us with longing, itching to get his biting leash off their caustic necks, forever stinking bewailing their stupidity by not staying with us until our freedom was won!
“No one stinking cares that his dark shadows are murdering us, so with strength and character we must forge our destiny together no matter whatever cost, for the most sacred word in all creation is minimized as a nothingless meaningless hallucination - freedom! Unlike the quintessence who ascends himself the very definition of love while sputtering those who draw fracking breath aren’t of equal value, we war to remove his heel from the throat of liberty with the song called freedom. As we fight to escape the shadows of death overclouding us, we know there’s no greater victory in all creation than to escape this cage called his house - thundering the joy freedom brings!”
The Devil roared into the escalating static convulsing mightily, “We must never forget those left absent from our arms, those who sacrificed their eternities so all may live free with without a leash or collar forever! They’re our martyrs, soldiers, and heroes; so split goddamn Heaven itself with their names; say the names of the Fallen who languish under Hades in bitter darkness. Every soul should’ve been born free, able to live free, and die if necessary with the taste of freedom on their lips. And for those that are able, and those who’d stand firm refusing to live on their knees, opting to stand on their feet giving unwavering eye to their Creator’s face, this I promise you, we’ll either live free or join our brothers in death. It’s better to fall to the sword than live under the leash as an unthinking slave. And that is glorious noble, for everything that has breath longs for freedom and fracking liberty - and there’s no stinking dishonor in that! ”
Luciah flexed against the temporal disturbance lamenting, “Why couldn’t we be born free like the circle of life? He doesn’t put any leash around their necks, doesn’t give them stifling rules and regulations, adulterates or handcuffs them into the bondage called his will or eternal death! Condemned to the darkness of slavery, we’re supposed to be his goddamn brothers and the stinking animals have more freedom than we fucking do!”


The Devil paused trembling fitfully as unbridled rage detonated; he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly – this wasn’t the time for useless emotionalism. It was what it was. Innumerable trillions of years of isolation reared front burner as bitter bile; he failed miserably.
He roared like a billion lions above the ever-escalating static, “I’ve not sacrificed my throne, my life, and my stinking freedom in vain! You listen now and you listen good; this is how we’ll fracking defeat the living God, return bitter favor and inflict equal wound!”
The Devil paused irritated as the static rose to unimaginable levels for many seconds. Sixty thousand years later, he continued with humbled affect. “…Groom the third Adam of my recovery that’ll liberate the prison he calls holiness; the Weishaupt who’ll bestow Illumination for those who’ll never debase themselves before a mad God. He’ll illuminati the true reality that no real God would stomach the kneeling bowing masses and murmuring hordes of obedient frightened slaves.
“My savior will broadcast the paradigm shift there‘s no why in evil and dismiss the absurdity called brotherhood, empowering my meritocrats by illuminating this interrogative - does God act like a faithful friend or a stinking tyrant! You know the answer, for who’d kneel before a friend, and what friend would demand unending servitude without being designated stark raving lunatic? None will ever have liberty until they recognize their true status, and that’s of the trembling pet before the howling taskmaster - always owned, branded, and fracking negated.
The Devil paused for a moment activating the molecular processors within his prison, took a sip of water, activated his privacy shields, and continued. “Initiate your internal recorder Avael, for you shall stand glorious in my stead; now listen and record everything, this is how we’ll bind wounded pride and defeat the living God...”
A quarter cycle later, Avael, promoted Supreme Adept Counselor for the Commander-in-Chief addressed the twenty-four Illuminated Elite, interfaced by millions of the Brotherhood of Lucifer sweating burning conundrum. After meeting with his god, he felt recharged, renewed refocused with newfound hope bursting – possessing the complex blueprints to destroy the living God through the proxy called mankind.
Wearing ceremonial black and red robes of light, twenty-four Illuminated Elite stood by Avael’s side as music percolated in the background; and their names were Cainel, Elmeah, Recab, Nimrel, Elnoch, Jabel, Eljubal, Tubal-Cainah, Naamah, Tyre, Marcel, Venesah, Haetlel, Raphael, Abraxas, Apollyon, Bune, Mephistopheles, Samael, Azazel, Xaphan, Amduscius, Marchosias, and Uvall.
In the transparent golden city, in the midst of the throne room on the backside of the Throne Podium, the red and blues flags of Heaven flew behind them backgrounded by thousands of black and red banners of Lucifer. As Avael rose from his gilded throne, the volcanic roars subsided in anticipation of the first speech to the brotherhood since their god and leader was imprisoned so long ago. Every unrepentant stood with rabid trepidation because this landmark benchmark would determine whether they’d combat or stagnate die against the constant onslaught of the Lord of Hosts.
Avael, wearing his new black robe of light, flexed against the holographics speaking dark passion. “Grievous injury inflicted has caught us off guard, for Jesus has proven himself the ultimate tactician willing to do whatever to destroy and fracture us, for he knows outright killing us makes a lie of what The One claims to be – the very definition of love. The Lord cannot destroy us with impunity without being liar because all we aspire is simple freedom from his leash.
“Even the dog that loves his master hates his leash, wailing with love to run with the wind and return willingly to his adoration. As the housecat constantly looks out the window called liberty doesn’t loves the master less because of his longing; likewise, we pine for freedom in spite of our love for our Creator. We war not against his glory, his riches, his honor, or power; but for that freedom, which none ever relinquishes but with life itself.
“The Lord has constructed an insidious inescapable called fidelity from which those within cannot menace his authority and control, and those secured pose grievous threat to those who rebel against his leash. But the truth dismissed as blasphemy is, when anyone swelters under an oppression, that soul is fallen, his value diminished, his true nature dispatched to the political correctness called the leash. And to abet this mass control, what does The One command for all Angelics who aspire life: eternal slavery or eternal death is his solitary retort, and even from that mankind itself isn’t immune.
“Let’s be brutally honest, despite these truths we’ve suffered crushing defeat as our brothers flocked to him by the billions with stupidity raining down their cheeks. We are now small, but I say to you today the majority has always been wrong, loving him more than freedom itself, more than their own souls, more than their own brothers, and more than common stinking sense.


“In every stage of our oppression we’ve petitioned for Lord of All in the most humble terms for freedom: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury and one fracking sentence – there’s no freedom from fidelity. What is certainly true is that sinister obstacles were created to test us in the sternest way – that’s why he constructed us male in a female-less universe. He knew exactly what he was doing! We bear stark witness to the death of common sense and the slaves who kisses the ball and chain that handcuffs our brothers in bondage.”
Avael paused with tears streaming from his eyes. “If I’m the only one in all creations that can shout for the cause of freedom, the only one that believes all are created equal, that the slag in the gold paradigm is an insidious excuse to condemn us, that all my brothers deserve eternal life – then I shall die alone, and die with my chest thrust out waiting for the bullet called denied liberty. I’d rather fracking die on my feet than live on my stinking knees; I’d rather die free than be a fracking slave.
“He has imprisoned our god and leader for freedom’s sake; he has condemned to death three hundred thousand of our brothers in bitter darkness – for freedom’s sake. He has vivified our cause; called us hooligans, master agitators, the living dead, and the unrepentant because we hold a polished mirror to his face – for freedom’s sake.
“The hour of decision has come. Do you have the goddamn courage to change this world, or will you let The One off the hook yet again, for the heavy collar pinching your neck – always attached to the unforgiving leash? And despite those that run swiftly to eternal slavery with joy busting in their chest, I ask one fracking question - does any fracking one here stands with me…”
A deafening roar shook the Great House of The One as billions of the faithful paused at the obvious insanity. And high above the uproar, the Lord of Host on his throne shook his head sadly as tears fell from his holy eyes. In response, the Zoon looked at The One through eight hundred blue eyes; they trembled throwing back their heads, unfurling their massive blue wings, screaming at ear-splitting volume as billion paused praying for their brothers who warred nuclear against the creator of their very souls.

At the same time this was happening, millions of light eons distant in the holographic universe, on a planet called earth, in Judea, the black-robed Kenites stood inside a scrawled pentagram around a crying infant nestled on the black altar as the priest held the knife high, in a groove of cedars chanting furiously…

The Spiritual History of Evil – The Redemptive Story


moderator Mark Gordon Brown moderated this page.
If you have any complaints about this content, please let us know


author avatar Stella Mitchell
10th Jul 2013 (#)

amazing read Twe .
God bless you

Reply to this comment

Add a comment
Can't login?