Infinite Testament (26 page)

Sara Ixley closed the door behind her and slipped the shoes
off her feet. She stood on a welcome mat, letting some of the water drip
off of her before traipsing through the apartment. Despite the gloomy,
rainy weather outside, Sara’s spirits were high. It wasn’t going to be
easy to sever ties with Ronnie, but she was prepared to do it. Bruce was
ready to spend the rest of his life with her, and she was eager to do the same.

Sara took the mail that was tucked under her arm and sorted
through it. Bills, bills, and junk. Eck. She hurried through
the hallway to the kitchen and clumsily tossed the pile of mail onto the
kitchen table. Underestimating her strength, the envelopes slid across
the wooden surface and fell over the edge. “Nice one, Sara,” she
mumbled. Sara walked to the end of the table and picked up the envelopes.

She slapped them, one by one, back on the table. One
particular envelope caught her attention. The return address header read
Bruce
Dennett
. She sat indian-style on the floor and ripped open the
envelope. Inside was a letter. Instantly anxious, she began to read
it:

“Whenever my mind wanders, it finds its way to you.
When I fall asleep at night, I imagine I am with you. When I close my
eyes, I only see your face. I say these things, not just because I love
you, but because I cannot imagine my life without you. I’m sorry if this
letter is the lamest thing you have ever read, but I want you to know that I love
you so much, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Sara’s eyes teared up. And for once, it was because
she was happy. She stared out at the window perched next to her.
The rain fell outside. It was serene. Quiet. A smile rose from
her lips as she thought about her future life with Bruce.

Sara Ixley was finally at peace with her life.

A knock at the door took her out of her daze. Who
could it be? She wasn’t expecting anybody. Sara stood up walked
toward the door. “Who is it?”

No answer. The door handle furiously jiggled.
Sara stepped backward in surprise. “Who is it?” she asked again with a
hint of worry. Sara cautiously put her eye to the peephole to grab a
peek. She couldn’t see anything but blackness. The visitor must
have been covering the hole with his hand. “If you want to come in I need
to know who you are!”

The visitor violently pounded on the door. Sara
stumbled back, frightened. “If that’s you, Bruce, this isn’t funny!
You’re scaring me!” The door fell silent. Sara waited. All
was quiet. It was probably some kid trying to be funny. Sara looked
through the peephole again. She could see the hallway now, but no one was
there. “Hello?” Sara knocked on the door. “Hello??”

Now convinced it was a prankster, Sara unlocked the door
and whipped it open. There was no one around. She took a few steps
out of her apartment and looked down the wooden stairs. There was no
sight of anybody. “Not funny!” Stupid frat boys. They were
always trying to get her attention. Sara stepped back in her apartment
and closed the door behind her. She locked it and headed back to the
kitchen.

As she walked near the table, she noticed a crumpled up
piece of paper on the floor. That was odd, she didn’t remember doing
that. She uncrumpled the letter and looked at it: “Whenever my mind
wanders, it finds its way to you…” Bruce’s letter. Sara lifted her
eyes with horror. She
definitely
didn’t crumple this up.

Sara’s stomach tightened and her heart raced. She had
to get out of there. Sara ran toward the front door as fast as she
could. She unlocked the door and opened it. But just as quickly as
the door opened, the hand of a stranger slammed it shut.

A male voice from behind her said, “Hello, Sara.”

She turned around as her eyes darted toward the
figure. He was wearing all black, a daunting form. When she looked
at his face, she recognized him: it was the mysterious stranger who had saved
her life so many years ago. It was the man whose name she didn’t know.

It was Moros.

Her wide eyes stared at him as panic filled her
lungs. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

Moros coolly replied, “I just came to talk.”

He stood uncomfortably close. Sara stared into his
eyes. He was just as she remembered: calm on the outside, but on the
inside, pain. Darkness. It wasn’t hard to see it in his eyes.
Sara said, “What do you want? I delivered your message. You said
you would leave me alone.”

Sara nervously fidgeted with the E.M. ring resting on her
finger. Moros noticed, prompting a flood of emotion to swell within
him. He ignored it and said, “I know. I appreciate you giving Bruce
the message.”

“What do you want from me?”

Moros stared at her without response.

Sara inquired further, “Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Moros replied. “I’m not from
around here. That’s all you need to know.”

Sara boldly asked, “You’re an alien, aren’t you?”

Moros smirked. “An alien? You could say
that. Technically, yes, I am an
alien
. I’m from another
planet, a place called Raqiya. Raqiya is in a galaxy that’s simply too
far for you to imagine. Raqiya is a place unlike Earth. A place
where we care for each other. A place of love. You say alien.
They say angel. Both the same. It really doesn’t matter what you call
me.”

Sara heard what he said but didn’t quite soak it in.
“You saved my life. I helped you already. What do you want from me
now?”

Moros sighed. “I’m sorry. I have to kill you.”

A horrible heat overpowered Sara. Panic spread
throughout her veins. The words Moros spoke created a feeling of dismay
within her. She didn’t know if he meant it. But she didn’t want to
think about it. “No,” she panted.

Moros looked at Sara. But something was
different. Sara was no longer staring back at him. In her place was
Elpis. Moros squinted and couldn’t believe his eyes. Sara and Elpis
looked alike, but not like this. “Elpis?” he asked.

Elpis? Sara was confused. The stranger was
stuck in a daze. Sara took advantage and slipped away.

To Moros’s eyes, Elpis sternly stared back at him.
“Do not kill this girl,” Elpis demanded. Was he hallucinating?
Elpis wasn’t here, she couldn’t have been.

Moros exclaimed, “I told you to stay out of my way.
Leave me alone!”

Elpis put her hand to Moros’s cheek. “She is in
love. Just as we used to be. Do not take that away.”

“You’re not real!” He shoved Elpis’s arm away.
A sense of longing tore his insides apart. “I love you, Elpis. I’m
sorry.” Before Moros could absorb more sorrow, he pushed it away and
stormed down the hallway after Sara.

Moros ran into the kitchen and ripped open the back
door. He found himself on a wooden deck with stairs that spiraled down
seven stories. He leaned over the rail and saw Sara exit the stairs into
the back alleyway. Moros scanned the area: the alley was wide.
There was a tall wooden gate preventing a clear exit. Someone could see
him, but it seemed unlikely. There wasn’t a person in sight. If he
was quick enough, no one would suspect foul play.

Moros pulled himself over the rail and leapt off. The
wind blew in his face as he hurled toward the ground. He held out his
hand and noticed the water pouring down with him from above. Moros landed
on the pavement with a thud. Sara, desperately trying to run away, turned
and saw Moros walking toward her, the rain pelting him.

Unfortunately, Sara was running out of room. There
was no getting over the tall wood. She reached the gate. Instead of
trying to climb, she turned to face Moros, who was closing in on her.
“Please. Just leave me alone. I’m finally reuniting with
Bruce. I love him. Don’t do this.”

Moros continued walking toward Sara. She was
beautiful, even as the rain drenched her. He didn’t particularly
want
to kill her. It was just a necessary part of the plan.

Sara put her hand in her pocket and gripped the handle of a
thick knife she grabbed from a drawer before running out of the
apartment. Unexpectedly, she lunged forward and drove the blade deep into
Moros’s chest. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he looked at her with
great surprise. Moros casually clenched the handle of the knife, pulled
it out of his chest, and placed it in his back pocket. He was
uninjured. No blood, no pain. Sara looked in shock at his
invincibility and gazed into his eyes with horror.

Moros could see a bright light in her eyes. He just
wanted to get it over with. “I’m sorry.” Moros put a gun to the
side of her head and pulled the trigger. Sara fell to the ground.
The light in her eyes disappeared.

Moros knelt down, lifted her limp hand, and removed the
E.M. ring from her finger. After examining it, he slid it on his own
finger. Moros gently placed the gun in her hand. He walked toward
the staircase and effortlessly jumped several stories to her deck. After
walking in her kitchen, he took the crumpled letter off the table and glanced
at it: “I say these things, not just because I love you, but because I cannot
imagine my life without you…. I want you to know that I love you so much, and I
can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Moros snarled. People on Earth were not capable of
love. Of that, he was convinced. Sure, they might
think
they
were in love. But it simply wasn’t possible. They could choose the
light. But it meant nothing. They were a lost cause.

Moros crumpled the letter again and put it in his
pocket. He couldn’t let it be found. He would clean the apartment
and leave. Sara’s death would be ruled a suicide, thanks in part to her
failed relationship with Ronnie and her previous attempt. He peered down
the hallway and saw a furious Elpis staring back at him. The sight was
haunting. “She’s not real,” Moros half-assured himself.

Sara lay on her back. Dead. The rain pounded on
her face as she stared blankly into the sky. Her body was useless.

But the light of her soul, the part of the soul that
mattered most, was not ready to move on.

Ronnie Russell bowed his head and paused. The sun
beat on his bare, muscled chest. He was in a private crevice surrounded
by stones on a beach on Lake Michigan. Loosely holding a staff in his
left arm, he lifted his head and stared out at the endless sight of
water. He extended his hands outward, still gripping the staff. His
biceps protruded as he allowed his anger to flow through his soul. He
screamed at the top of his lungs, releasing a shockwave of rage into the air.

Ronnie thrust the staff forward and screamed again.
He held the position, with his knees bent and his mind focused. His long
black hair flowed with the wind that blew off the waves. His eyes
squinted in the distance. But he was no longer looking with his eyes.

Ronnie burst into a flurry with his staff. He twirled
it at preposterous speeds. He leaned backwards and, using both hands,
spun it just above his face. As he stood up straight, the staff came
flying behind his back, and effortlessly twirled above his head. Ronnie
gripped the staff with both hands and thrust it forwards, then backwards,
spinning his body in the process. He gracefully soared sideways, his body
perfectly horizontal. One foot kicked into the sand, providing a
landing. Ronnie threw the staff into the air, twirling like a fan.
He effortlessly back flipped, caught it, swung the staff around his neck, and
stormed into a frenzy. He took several jabs at the air, screaming as he
jabbed.

Ronnie tucked the staff back into his left arm, held out
his hands again and screamed the last of his breath. The savage howl
soared across the lake. He fought for air and his dark eyes had the look
of a man in turmoil. It was not the look of a man who was the CEO of a
multi-million dollar company.

A clapping sound filled the air. Ronnie came out of
his focus and looked in the direction of the clapping. There was a man
wearing all white, standing tall on a rock at the edge of the crevice. A
man known as Moros.

“Very impressive,” Moros said.

“Thank you,” Ronnie replied insincerely.

“Nice to meet you, Ronnie.”

Ronnie nodded, weary of this stranger who somehow knew his
name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You’re good at that. Take classes?”

“No. Taught myself.” Ronnie wished the stranger
would leave him alone.

“Do you fight people?”

“No. It’s therapeutic.”

Moros nodded. “I see. Would you like more
privacy?”

“Yes I would.”

“Alright.” Moros lifted his hand toward the openness
of the lake. At his command, water shot up into the sky. It blasted
up at high speeds and formed a solid stream of a wall. Ronnie fell
backwards out of pure shock. The wall of water had indeed created a room
of privacy. But a
wall of water
? Ronnie looked back at
Moros, who stood on the rock smiling at him. Ronnie could only ask, “Who
are you?”

“I am angel. I am here to give you an offer you can’t
refuse.”

With that, Moros began to explain the idea of the ILD.

Moros had spoken to 11 apostles. None of them
would divulge information.
Not one. There was only one
apostle left to speak with.

Moros walked through a village that lied along the Sea of
Galilee. Houses, pathways, and a synagogue were made largely of
stone. Everywhere he looked, large slabs of stone were formed
together. The villagers wandered about, smiling at him as he walked
by. Moros politely nodded and smiled back. No one had any suspicion
he was from another planet.

Moros walked through an open doorway of one of the
houses. A man sat on a large stone at a flimsy wooden table. He was
writing with a sharp edge on a wax tablet-a popular writing device of the
time.

Moros asked, “What are you writing?”

The man took his attention away from his wax tablet and looked
at Moros. The man had a thick beard. His rather large underbite was
all too noticeable. Nonetheless, the man smiled, revealing his jagged
teeth. “I can’t tell you.”

Moros let out a sigh of frustration. How did Jesus
manage to silence all 12 of his apostles? Moros asked, “You are the one
they call Judas Iscariot?”

“Yes, that is I.”

Moros asked, “May I come in?”

Judas nodded as he turned his attention back to his wax
parchment. Moros stepped in. Judas asked, “From where do you
hail? Surely you are not from around here.”

“Why do you say that?”

Judas peered at Moros from the corner of his eye.
“Your sandals. They are in perfect condition. Your tunic spares
itself of dirt and even wear. I would guess you are a noble from another
town, but I don’t think that’s quite it.”

“Then what is it?”

“You are an archangel. But for some reason, you know
nothing. You are here to ask me about Jesus’ mission...” Judas
turned his body toward Moros. “…And I won’t tell you anything.”

Moros was stunned. Judas was smart. Smarter
than any of the others he had met. Moros said, “Surely the other apostles
have told you about me.”

“Not only the others, but an angel.”

Moros clenched his teeth. Elpis.

“What did she say to you?”

“Aah.
She.
You know of whom I speak.
She is a beautiful angel.” Judas ignored his question and resumed
writing.

Moros grew frustrated. He asked, “Why does Jesus
insist on keeping his identity a secret from everyone? There will be a
great reward if you help me. You are God’s chosen one…”

“Is that so?” Judas interrupted. “I wonder why you
are the only angel who knows nothing and requires information from us to
understand. Perhaps, you are not an angel at all… But a
fallen
angel.”

Moros angrily stormed to Judas, gripped his tunic, and slammed
him against the stone wall. “Do not presume to understand what I am
willing to do to find out.”

“Alright
angel
,” Judas said. “You want to know
what the other angel said?”

Moros glared into Judas’s eyes. Judas had a cunning
mind; he was an odd choice for an apostle. Moros saw an unusually bright
light in Judas’s eyes. There was something different about this
apostle. He possessed an unwavering confidence, a complete understanding
of everything. The truth was that Judas knew more than anyone could
comprehend. As Jesus’s favorite apostle, he knew
everything
.
And Judas was effectively outwitting Moros.

Judas said, “The angel came to me and told me the time was
near. Then she kissed me on the cheek.”

Moros glared into his eyes. He didn’t understand.
Why would she kiss him? What was the significance?

Judas taunted him. “You still don’t understand, do
you?”

Moros’s confidence escaped him. It was clear to Judas
that he was baffled. Judas said, “You say you can bring me a great
reward. As Jesus’s apostle, I do what is in his best interest. But
I’m always looking to make some money on the side. A man needs to make a
living.”

Moros pulled a tiny bag of coins from inside his tunic and
tossed it on the table. “There’s enough money to last you a while.”

Judas smirked in his satisfaction. Moros could not
understand him. The light in Judas was bright, yet he was willing to
break an apparently important secret for money. Judas said, “Jesus is
going to die. It was in this town he last predicted it. But he
isn’t
just
going to die, he’s going to rise from the dead. And
when the people see that, they will know of the importance of the soul.
That there is life after death. Most importantly, they will understand
the reason we are all here. The way to brighten the light inside of
us. The way to connect with The Most High:

“Love.

“Through Jesus’s death and resurrection, the world will be
saved.”

Tears fought their way to Moros’s eyes. He didn’t let
them out. Instead, anger erupted to the surface. He slammed Judas
against the stone wall again. “His whole plan has always been to
die
?
How does he plan on resurrecting?!”

Judas replied matter-of-factly, “I told you, the beautiful
angel kissed me.”

Moros blankly stared at him, his face uncomfortably close
to Judas’s.

Judas asked, “Does that mean nothing to you?” He
chuckled at how little Moros knew. Whoever this angel was, he was shunned
for some reason. Judas continued, “A kiss from her allows me to grant
others the ability to see the dead. The people I touch will see Jesus
when he appears on the third day.”

Moros tried to contain his emotions. Not only was his
son planning on a premature death, Elpis had helped him. She knew of his
plan and said nothing. Further, she never mentioned her ability to grant
people a way to see the dead. Elpis had kept all this from him.

Moros loosened his grip on Judas and snatched the wax
tablet Judas had been writing on. Moros paced away and as he stood at the
opening of the house, asked, “How does he plan to die?”

“That is something no money can make me say,” Judas said.

Moros left. He needed to find Jesus before it was too
late. But finding him would prove impossible.

Moros told Ronnie the reality of the Universe
repeating.
But the truth stopped there. “You will see what
I tell you is truth. The information will shortly be known to the
world. But they will lie. For the past
can
be changed.
But the only way for that to happen… is to give
everyone
a chance to
start over.” Moros dramatically looked at Ronnie. “That means the
entire world has to end.
Everyone
has to die.”

Ronnie was skeptical. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know how badly you want to go back. I know
the reason you twirl that stick around. Unfortunately, you’re never going
to forget. Sara Ixley is gone. She’s never coming back…
Unless…” Moros let Ronnie’s mind finish the thought.

“But why me? The whole world ends for
me
?”

“Of course not. The truth, Ronnie, is this is God’s
will. You are God’s chosen one. The one who will bring a new start
to humanity.”

Ronnie’s eyes quivered. “God wants me to do this?”

Ronnie turned and stared at the wall of water spouting in
front of him. After Sara’s death, he had plunged into darkness, into a
place of regret. Ronnie always had the best of intentions. He loved
Sara Ixley, but she never quite loved him back. After her apparent
suicide, Ronnie couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. He
prayed every night for another chance. It was a prayer he never thought
could be answered.

Until now.

Ronnie asked, “If I do this, everyone will get a
fresh start?”

Moros confidently responded, “Yes. And you will be
doing God’s work.”

Moros’s deal was absurd. Ronnie so badly wanted to
believe it, that he did. Ronnie figured if God wanted him to reset the
world, who was he to say no? That’s what he would be: a reluctant
hero. The savior of humanity. “What do I have to do?”

Moros smiled. “There is a group. The Xlympians
of Christ. You will become their new leader. Over these years, I
will teach you what needs to be done. And when this all becomes revealed
to the public, you will know the truth.”

Ronnie, with his long black hair flowing, bowed his
head. He was now a humble servant of God.

Little did he know, he was Moros’s final piece to a giant
puzzle to destroy the world. For Moros, everything was now in place.