Survivors – Stories with Meaning

Before I sat down to write this message, there were serious considerations to weigh.  The price for something so simple has become such a penalty that few are willing and able to pay. To my surviving family and friends, I ask that you carry the ridicule and persecution that will be the ultimate result as an act of love to those who might still be reached.

The Unwanted

Since the world was turned upside down, the days started blending into some kind of nightmare that no one could have expected, though some predicted it all to the letter.  During the early 2020’s, they used the COVID pandemic to prepare the world for all that was to come.  Feigning the role of our saviors, they came to the rescue with a miracle vaccine that would bring the fears of most to a swift end.  Most grabbed this life preserver eagerly, putting all their trust in the expertise of the moment.  Not once did we consider that one hand was drawing all attention to its hopeful directives while the other was preparing something so bleak that no amount of imagination could foretell it.

First, they separated us into two categories.  The vaccinated and the unvaccinated.  Driving wedges through society that no man could ever mend.  Once this was done, the ensuing strife could be managed with clinical effect.  Fathers turned against sons and mothers against daughters on the word of verified specialists.  Fearing infection and death, many were left to die alone in vain, hoping to see their loved ones for the last time.  That was not to be.

After the first divide was crafted with demonic precision, there would follow a whole series of divisions, carving society into bite-sized chunks, ready to be consumed by a dark agenda.  Black against white, native against immigrant, homosexual against straight, rich against the poor, caretakers of nature against mere inhabitants thereof.

As lines grew longer at vaccine clinics, structures were erected in areas that could be isolated with no fear of any information leakage.  Initially, these little boxes were used to house the infected to stop the spread.  When the results of the largest medical experiment in history came pouring from every alternative media source concerned with the truth, it was too late to bridge the fashioned divide.  Civilization was divided so thoroughly that repair became a distant thought, held only by staunch proponents of truth. 

By this time, the camps were ready to be filled to the brim.  Cubicles separated one unit from the other.  Contact is limited to only the most necessary of sentences.  Even when the “domestic terrorists” were ushered into their confinement, I still held to the belief that everything being done was for the greater good.  At least, that was how my conscience would be stilled for a period.

In the beginning, there was limited interaction between the unwanted and us, moral superiors to those holding dangerous ideologies.  Then it all went silent. 

Some attempted to visit the secluded camps in the hope of seeing the people they abandoned when the wolves finally came.  Most captives were Christians, although the cubicles also contained the feared nationalists, climate deniers, homophobes, and every other kind of label slapped on by our benevolent rulers.  Once the visitors started to vanish, some of us became aware of the lies that weakened the masses.  Branded rebels to the cause, their disappearance was sold as a necessity if the rest of us were to survive.

Some years after the famine, pestilence, drought, and scorching solar flares really took hold, the cabal of the global union of nations raised their voices.  The corruption became intolerable in the face of utter annihilation.  Along with terrifying natural disasters and the capture of the remaining natural resources, there was a cry to raise a global leader who would be capable of keeping our ills at bay.  Everyone was ready and primed to give their undying allegiance to the one with a solution to the living hell they occupy to this day.

Even the experts on the resources board ran out of suggestions after a couple of months.  The ensuing dreadful manifestations brought about ultimate compliance.  First, they told us that the Great Quake was a result of damage caused by greenhouse gases. We believed them then.  This instrument of judgment started rumbling throughout the eastern sector.  Hardly an hour had passed before buildings were folded up like scrolls, as far as the eye could see.  Screams punctured both hemispheres with a quality so bleak that it makes it hard for the strongest mind to hold, let alone hold on to sanity.  All communication went down in every sector.  Mothers roamed the streets, frantically calling out the names of their children, while molten rubble replaced the structures previously occupied by employees.  The Great Quake brought a sinister passenger along for the ride.  Lightning flew across the horizon and overhead.  It grew so intense that multiple streams of deadly electrical currents congealed into a blast furnace wherever it came down.  Nearly a billion people lost their lives that day, a small number in comparison to what was to come.

Subsequent months proved the caretakers wrong; their plans were quickly forsaken when we saw the first billion souls taken by the Great Quake.  On the heels of this disaster, solar flares grew so intense that no rural area could be inhabited ever again.  Reports of skin melting into flesh like plastic subjected to immense heat drew most everyone to flee to every Resilient Metro erected before the ills came to full force.  RM’s were flooded by stories of entire villages falling to the curse of the overwhelming famine.  Mothers consumed the stillborn at first and moved on to every corpse that remained somewhat preserved deep underground. I will spare you the more graphic details of acts cultivated by minds twisted to amorality just to survive. 

The unwanted quickly disappeared from our minds.  Escalating horrors shifted concern from others to the self.  The lack of contact from the camps also played its part.

The Ruler

Hona-Layvu Rihaar rose to prominence at incredible speed.  The northern sector of the G.U.N produced this charismatic leader with exquisite timing.  No elections were held, no caucuses convened, and no surveys were conducted to legitimize the station of Mr. Rihaar as Global Tzar to the nations.  Desperation brought him to power.  The same desperation cultivated years ago brought us here.  His plans and procedures were instated at lightning speed, as if it were millennia in the making and ripe for this day.

Within a couple of months, Mr. Rihaar quelled every vestige of conflict that still raged anywhere on the planet.  Swift implementation of the loyalty markers ensured that external forces would not be able to sabotage any actions by the G.U.N under Rihaar.  I saw this, and vivid memories crossed my neural pathways, still unimpeded by any product created in Neurotrust laboratories.  One voice came to mind, speaking softly to my spirit.  It was the voice of a former friend.  He was deleted after a few weeks in the camps for spreading misinformation.  Capital punishment is executed without hesitation for this grievous crime.

Jacob always had his nose in the Bible.  He seemed a little strange, although he had this uncanny ability to draw people to himself.  We used to attend the same church before I came to wisdom and clarity.  It turns out that wisdom and clarity it was not.  He paid attention to every letter, scrolling through his Bible while the pastors continued their sermons.  Sometimes he told me about “the day of the Lord,” as he would call it, warning that we must consult scripture now because it will be criminalized soon.  I thought that was a little overdramatic.  That was a mistake. 

On the day they came for Jacob, I was cowering with a pointed finger directed to the nearest target it could find.

That Great Day

We never shared common religious convictions, but our friendship withstood differing opinions back then.  “In the end, there will be deceit covering all nations, wars and rumors of wars, earthquakes, famines, and pestilence,” he used to warn.  I never thought much about it.  Jacob did seem sincere, and he was no nutbar on any other topic, which afforded him an ear as consolation at least.  Now that I am here, his obsession with prophecy does not merely make sense in some esoteric, puzzling way anymore.  It is happening exactly as his Bible foretold, with an accuracy unmatched by any other force I have encountered. 

He told me about the coming loyalty markers.  He called it “the mark,” yet it came to fruition irrespective of the terms assigned to it by any agency.  When the marks were being imprinted, and shortly thereafter, came punishment so severe that I failed to blot it out of my mind.  Climate change brought hideous creatures out of the belly of earth.  Warning and retribution from Gaia, apparently.  Brutality found its form in massive locusts spreading throughout the Global Union.  These creatures were surreal in their construction and purpose.  Something you might find in an old Stephen King novel, but worse… way worse.

Everyone carrying a loyalty marker became vulnerable to the attacks inflicted by the latest nightmare to show its face: monsters from the abyss.  Insectoids adorned with breastplates were impervious to any weapon we could devise.  Long hair hung from the sides of their faces, reminding me of mummies uncovered with hair clinging to the last pieces of flesh on faces appallingly deformed by decomposition. 

On their backsides, they carried stingers fitted to irregular spinal columns.  The loyalists stung by these creatures fell into torment for months at a time.  No antivenom was forthcoming to treat them.  All of them recount the same experience resulting from the attacks.  The pain starts slowly at first.  Within a few hours, their bones are stricken with unbearable stinging heat, as if the poison pierces the bone to displace the marrow inside of it.  “Acid, get the acid out of my bones.  Get it out or delete me,” they screamed in agony, knowing that there was no escape from the torment ripping through their bodies. Euthanasia clinics stood by helplessly, unable to grant relief through death. 

Every afflicted body reconstituted immediately with every victim’s attempts to put themselves out of this blinding pain.  Bullets speeding into skulls get trapped inside the brain, increasing this hellish experience by adding to the suffering.  Bullet wounds close almost immediately, but every bit of metal remained inside to eat away at the last bit of hope that this torture could be ended. 

Jacob told me this would happen.  My “enlightened self” relegated the warning to an overactive imagination.  Even now, you can hear gunshots ringing in every sector. While most of the creatures crept back into the holes that produced them, a few remain to torment those baring the mark.  Bodies were set ablaze, and living corpses ran through the streets like well-lit torches.  No release is ever imminent.  Death itself has lost the power to grant the wishes of millions. I saw enough to convince me that Jacob always shared the truth with me.  I know there is much more to be unleashed by God upon everyone who continues to reject His Son.

To the Reader

Between all the warnings Jacob shared with me, one was exclaimed so powerfully that his words imprinted the event irrevocably in my consciousness.  There would be a man appointed as the global leader, an irresistible force that would push the masses past any barrier that logic formerly erected.  This man would promise an end to every conflict, implement the necessary procedures to counter climate change, and usher in “the mark” as every ear is turned to him during a dark time unlike any we have seen. 

Now that his name and station are known, Prince Hiraar will be moving to Jerusalem to renegotiate the treaty he used to bring Israel to a place of safety and security. Three and a half years after he first took power, the world finds itself in a worse state than during the days of his obscurity.  The direst warning Jacob gave me was that this move towards the capitol of Israel followed.  “He will step inside the new temple during this time, proclaiming to be God.  When you see this… run.  Don’t hesitate a second; just run for your life.”

This morning, the last prophecy I heard from Jacob stepped into reality.  I managed to escape along with two strangers who also questioned the narrative that blinded the whole world. 

I did nothing when they came for Jacob.  My own fears and pride made me an enemy of the unwanted, and there is nothing I can do to scrape that from history, hence this message written under severe risk to my own life.  I do not know how long I will survive out here.  The only thing I am sure of now is that Jacob told me the truth all those years ago.  By his council, I was charged with reaching anyone who was still willing to hear.  For the moment, gathering the outsiders is my most pressing task.  Should my message be intercepted, I will be hunted down and dragged before one of the councils to receive instructions regarding my coming execution.

If you take anything from this, let it be the truth that provides the only escape available to us.  His name is Jesus Christ, and His return is as sure as any of the events He foretold.  The same events our planet is still experiencing.  Jacob did not have an overactive imagination; I did.  If I had heeded the warnings earlier, I would have been better prepared.  As it stands, my survival will be a daily struggle from now on. If only I had listened then.

Whoever comes across this message must take care to withhold it from the global rulers and share the content with every soul standing against the Tzar and his high council.  Grab hold of the garments adorning the King of Kings.  Do not hesitate, do not fear, and never let go of Jesus. Those who memorized scripture are currently under protection in Petra.  Seek them out, come to full knowledge, and spread the word everywhere your breath or hand would carry it.


Your brother in persecution.

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