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Protophorous

Aborted King: Protophorous        Copyright  Norman DeArmond final edit 10/18/2011Warm beautiful feelings flowed over me, but I sensed the being surrounding and carrying my little bubble, my residential chamber, was uneasy.  She was getting up.  We were about to be moving.  A surge of activity caused her musculature to clamp down and pressurize me in my cozy little home.  A loud female voice sounded, saying, as I later would learn, “No, no, no. I don’t want this. I can get welfare for this baby to pay my way through college. I change my mind.”   Then another voice sounded, “Big needle, stick!”  The pressure around me abated.The high spiritual majesties Lucifer (also called the devil, satan, prince of darkness) and Abadon (beastmaster) themselves were hovering near as high forehead telepathic spiritual beings with photographic memories hovered by each surgical exam table. “Remember,” said Lucifer, “ we need to keep track of each sound and action.  That is the only way we can keep these memories alive in the “Neverborn Nursery.”  There is no torment like the vengeful heart.  We want to cultivate that with the true memory of the murderous act kept alive in the growing child’s psyche.  This will also help the child to devise and carry out effective torment on their murdering parents in their dark future.  Never let it be said I don’t help people”  said Lucifer with black humored sarcasm.   The doctor moved from table to table working between each pair of elevated thighs with a simple vacuum and hose attached to a bottle that filled as he worked.  Then he picked up a peculiarly angled set of pliers and announced he was “Feeling for the head, the cranium,  Eureka!” The Archemedian Doctor cried and he tightened the pliers to a muffled “Snap!” sound.  A moment or two more with the vacuum lancet and they were emptying out the bottle and examining the results, Back into the bottle the dismembered perfectly formed miniature human’s remains went.   “Be sure to keep it refrigerated two weeks in case there are complications.  It will come in handy against a malpractice shyster.” said the now Perry Mason like doctor.     As the doctor moved from woman to woman a number of tiny baby souls hovered there in the room watching the inspection of their remains.  Demonic spirits appeared and enfolded them.  They disappeared through the floor and next appeared at “Neverborn Nursery” in torments of the underworld.   I was one of those charges. I would have spent more time with them, growing there, studying my demise again and again, readying myself for a future in which I would be tormented forever.     Then Lucifer appeared with my remains. Lucifer used the dragon’s magic and the lost dead doctors and scientists  who stitched and  grafted and cloned a life and appearance back into me. Now, after twenty three years of development, now I'm ready to serve Lucifer, the great king who molded and shaped me into the most beautiful, and feared, of the adversary's castoff creation. From castoff he made me into a creative masterpiece. Many in the world of men despise my master. Yet he alone has been our savior. Carefully he and his agents collected and categorized our broken bodies and fragments. From scouring medical dumpsters and incinerator intake bins, to eventually owning and controlling the medical hazardous waste industry worldwide, he gathered me and my brothers. He restored us to life.  He gave us, if not hope, meaning, purpose, and great drive to live and have exploits.  What kind of daring adventures? Well, the bidding of my savior, molder and my chosen lord, is primary. Secondarily, but closer to my heart, is vengeance, right and just repayment, on the world of M.D.s and judges and justices and lawyers by whose fiat M.D.s tore through my home and cut me bit by bit from the sustenance and warmth and security of that mother of all harlots in whose womb I woefully was nearly but not begotten. Saved by the interference of my lord Lucifer, or else I never again would have known bodily existence. Not only nursed into life in the heart of the earth, but improved upon genetically by the wits of the dead scientific community, harvested by my savior and working feverishly under pain of earlier return to eternal and flaming torment. And I am the first brought among many brethren to follow, says my lord the king. Daily more shipments come. These human seed fragments are my future cohorts to be turned loose with me as heroes at the battle of the great day.  The master bid me to torment the dead humans. I hear them.  They keep begging and haranguing me about their families and their friends. They say the light of life is in my eyes. They don't want them to come here, something about Jesus. “Tell my people to listen to God, listen to Jesus, trust in Jesus’ death on the cross and in his resurrection.”  The master is wroth that I asked about this. He is tormenting them personally. I will be in charge of more important matters.  Here comes my new brother Heliarchus. "Heliarchus, hail lucifer's child!"   I called out."Hail M’Lord, King Protophorous!"  Heliarchus replied.I am the first brought among many brethren the master is counting on to overcome the enemy who cast us into these wretched dark yet burning regions under the enemies’ overland where the Master contends ably with the adversary for the souls of men. "I have been tormenting with Lucifer, our master.  Oh, M’ Lord Protophorous, you should have heard them wail."  "Did they mention their families and friends above or any name to give them?" I asked."Your Majesty, King Protophorous, they don't see light"(Our Lord Lucifer wished to spare my brothers indignities as I received: so his genetic engineers put a one way veil over their eyes) "in my eyes like they do in yours.  I do hear a name.  Under torment the lost say this. 'Jesus is right in punishing us.  He shall have this glory in punishing us for rejecting Jesus and suppressing His Spirit's voice in while we had a choice, living under the sun in realms above this dark blazing hot underworld, while we were over land.'  What resignation. I can scarcely fathom it. So plaintiff were the voices, full of soul strain and something else. Something, I want to call it love, love not given overland, love here where there is no effect of it, born of respect."  Said Heliarchus, wistfully. "Jesus! that is the name Lucifer didn't want me to ask him about, not in connection with the petitions of these pathetic tormented souls. He was quite upset about it."  I confided."Well, Protophorous, my liege, I will be sure not to mention it to the master, our lord, King Lucifer."  I noticed Heliarchus’ gaze fall upon me. No other eyes shone bright like mine for others to see. Most like him had been cast with stern countenances that were hard to look upon;  eyes hidden under a veil of skin that allowed them to see without appearing to see; long flowing beautiful hair the envy of any overland woman, yet terrible in shape as any lion's mane; pointy teeth for tearing when tormenting; hands formed into u-shapes from which long sharp claws curled from every finger. Heliarchus forehead glowed and I looked for his steed, Misanthrope.  Misanthrope landed with a pouncing crash that made us struggle to keep our feet. Heliarchus' training master, Beastmaster Abadon, demanded "Why bother the prince?"  I spoke truthfully, "I was lonesome." The beastmaster disdained the light of my eye and bid them join to fulfill their purpose in this nonlife, to torment.  As Heliarchus mounted, his visage took on the beast master’s likeness as had Heliarchus’ mighty hellion, Misanthrope. The beastmaster, a companion of my master, a demonic majesty called Abadon, was gone. Away he went with Heliarchus and Misanthrope, away to the flames of howling torment to practice for the Great Day battle. Wherever Misanthrope noticed a dead person there she would blast smoke that sent lungs and flesh into agony. Then fire scorched into charcoal the hapless lost soul. Finally she dropped on them white phosphoric acid which burned them until they glowed like a lantern wick. During the whole process Heliarchus watched for new victims. He hurled memorized lines of excoriation at the dead woman or man and, at times, special lines given him by the beastmaster now indwelling both Heliarchus and Misanthrope. Finally, he put in a word for himself, such as, "In your clinics by your M.D.s, your doctors, you cut me off from your overland race heyday and now I rise over you on Misanthrope for King Protophorous and all my brothers here saved by Lucifer for the battle of the great day and the age to come.” The three worked together seamlessly, an unholy triad, unholy, yet righteous in vengeful cause. Lucifer appeared, as if from nowhere,  I told him, “Master, I missed you.  When will we get our revenge on our murderers, our mothers?” “Not for you.” said Lucifer. “Why not my Lord? Are her deeds not fitting? Am I not your anointed King over the new Earth? When we win, shall I not rule? I must avenge myself on her, and, if not her, then certainly the doctor and nurses who mauled and cut and scraped at me, who pervade my sleeping memories. Let me at least know when I get them?”   Lucifer responded, "Protophorous, You will rule, but, first, you must know the sorrow of your cause." His majesty paused a moment, then continued."The murderous mother you speak of has been exonerated, pardoned, forgiven and cleansed, then sequestered and enfolded by our enemy, the adversary we fight." "But not by me, master."  I replied. "Protophorous, Our adversary has placed her beyond your reach, unless we could speed the battle of the great day, but, alas, it is not in our hands, our adversary controls the time. You can't even hope for a quick return by our adversary, because he will first lift off the earth those who are his, whom He has unfairly, nay unjustly, pardoned.” Lucifer concluded. Then he left. After a day of grieving with my brothers Lucifer brought me an M.D., now a hapless victim in the tormenting contests. A hack and scrape doctor from the abortion mills of planned parenthood, he claimed to also be a physiologist. To spare him the tormenting contest he would show us how to have our revenge. Something about the cells of the murderous mother’s mammary glands. When we were hacked and scraped out from our home these mammary cells there were in an mutative growth stage, like a stem cell, and if they don't completely change to milk oozing cells, they promote breast cancer.  The master had us bend our knee and nurse as if at our murdering mothers' breast. Howls burst forth through the pit of our dark flaming domain as dread messengers brought us reports of the overland plunged into an outbreak of breast cancer, of illness and mayhem of mastectomy, and pervasive insidious metastasizing misery, wailing laments and death. I am not satisfied because I did not get my hoped for revenge.  Even though many brothers are receiving their murderous mothers to torment, mine is not among them. Plus, why am I stricken with, with I know not what, but it feels like what our victims describe in torment as guilt, yes, guilt, and also, resignation-resignation that the adversary will be just should he triumph over me.  Could it be that this Jesus has a heart for me, delivered unborn into the underworld, dark flaming underworld of torments. I was Delivered from operating table to torments and nursed to life by the very dead doctors, now under torment, who murdered my brothers and me.  Feverishly they worked under my savior Lucifer's compulsion. But this guilt, how can one escape it?  Is Jesus victory over guilt available to me?  Though a prince, I cannot live in this guilt longer. To murder a murdering mother: is that not righteous? What crime is it to nurse at a mother afar off, much less a murdering one?  Crime or not, the guilt persists. II.  The master was wroth again. These Jesus conversations make him angry.  I’ll just have to explore the topic on my own.  There is no one to talk to.  My fellow riders, as  subjects, can’t witness any ambivalence on my part.  Additionally, they are all indwelt at times by demons, sharing their very brain.  All those conversations would be available to Lucifer.  I  might even be speaking to him directly.  Only to respect me as a sovereign over my rider nation does Lucifer not indwell me himself.   Sometimes I wish I was never aborted and reconstituted. Well, no, then(if aborted and not reconstituted) I'd be receiving torments instead of being prince of the live dead tormentors. Never to have been aborted, now there is a thought worth contemplating. Princes and kings get to have a lot of time for contemplating. Not the navel though, that part did me precious little good. Leaping and hopping about the overland. Dancing and singing and, whoa, all that stuff the dead confess to under torment.  I'd be doing that but for the murdering mother, father and the doctors and nurses and the congress people who helped fund my planned parenthood abortion (does that give us claim to the whole electorate?)   I must remind Heliarchus to tell me how the congress is doing in the tormenting contests. Now the coven of nine justices with the billion and four hundred million of us on their hands, they are a treat! Heliarchus and Beastmaster claimed them for their own. They use them as training demonstrators for the new Hellion riders. There is no hell, but there is a Hellion. Hell+lion, go figure. Don't get all worked up, pastor, It's called torments,  and sheoul means the underworld with it's paradise, too.  Read the Bible and maybe you'll keep your sheep out of here. No, don’t, we've got Hellion riders enough for all of them. That's all the time I have for escapist chat with imaginary overlanders. Here comes his lying self, Lucifer, who had no answer to why I felt guilt and resignation to damnation. First off says Luce, My murdering mother was prayed for by some Bible believing pastor and was healed of her breast cancer. Which means, says Ducey Lucey, I've nothing to feel guilty or resigned about. How little he, Lew, knows about subjective ethical feelings. I tried to off my murdering mother for the adversaries sake. And now, says Ducey, I just might succeed. Then I can worry about guilt and resignation to deserved damnation.  From the pit Hellions’ tormenting contests Heliarchus drug out a Psychiatrist. He's an m.d. who usually only recommends abortions. No hack and scrape tormenting for him. Then he deals with The Aftermath. Isn't that funny. The great harlot who hired a hacknscrape job on me had no afterbirth (in which afterbirth the healing waters full of healing stem cells are found). Ironically, she gets an aftermath instead in which bitter waters flow from her eyes, and, like Esau, no healing or renewal of lost potential comes of the flow of (crocodile? She probably would do it again, or did.) tears.  Lucifer says we will whisper in her ear and madness will follow for she can't deny the guilt of me. The old dragon has indeed whispered in some ears:  Eve;  her son Cain; Noah, when he besotted himself in alcoholism and homosexual incest; Noah’s wife, when she conspired with Ham and Canaan to wrest for Canaan world rule from brothers Shem and Japheth; Judas, whom my brothers and I torment daily; these and  many more ears.   In this I have confidence he will succeed. And I who am near escaped from matricide must now acquiesce in this new conspiracy. Deviltry, it gave a sort of birth to me. Yet I somehow don't want to my charge lain this heinous hit job on her, she who murdered me. I cannot say I love her.  Yet by her murder will I not be undone, well deserving of my fate already mine: but; by my accounting, not a just reward.  The overlanders are resilient and she probably won't expire just from accusations, just or not.  I don't know why I want to know of her, she's like my roots, an origin, like the newly dead say of the adversary.  Ha Ha! an adversary who saves murderers and fills torments with their victims.  Granted, we don't torment the little darlings from the abortion clinics like we do the coven of nine supreme court justices, M.D.s or the congress.  The little darlings who can't be revived into hellion riders have to be raised up to adult status before the tormenting can begin. They are made to torment the others while morally excoriating them.  Most of these are girls and come from Red China, most of the three hundred thirteen million murdered by M.D.s there are girls.  The coven of nine thought their decision would only influence M.D.s in the murder of some one hundred million or so U.S.A. babies.  So many nations leapt to the coven of nine U.S. justices' siren call that a billion and a half in utero m.d. murders of the smallest and most defenseless have been committed since 1972.   It strains our ability to raise them up and torment them.  But we are up to the chore.  Now comes the master overseeing a new delivery of V. C. collection bottles from America in the overland.  "They are getting to be so expensive, says the master, But the gift of life is worth it, right Protophorous?"   (What!? You never heard of V.C. Bottles?  I’ll quote for you from Right to Life: Silent Scream,  “*Suction aspiration, or "vacuum curettage," is the abortion technique used in most first trimester abortions.  A powerful suction tube with a sharp cutting edge is inserted into the womb through the dilated cervix. The suction dismembers the body of the developing baby and tears the placenta from the wall of the uterus, sucking blood, amniotic fluid, placental tissue, and fetal parts  into a collection bottle. Great care must be taken to prevent the uterus from being punctured during this procedure, which may cause hemorrhage and necessitate further surgery . Also, infection can easily develop if any fetal or placental tissue is left behind in the uterus. This is the most frequent post-abortion complication.”  Now you know a V.C. far more deadly than a fully armed Viet Cong trooper.) III.  The sweep of the underworld, vast overhead, chasms of dark deep infinite depth below, pocked with alcoves. A far larger surface area than the overland. The adversary made it to torment those he persecutes, even those who failed to ally with his Jesus. We are resuscitated in part by those demonic spirits and their creatures who are given the tormenting labors, whose very nature thrives, as if feasting with tearing and clawing, on the torment of the lost. This is the true Neverland for lost boys (and lost girls, and lost mums and lost dads too). My hellion is magnificent. He had never been exposed to the living. The glow of his eyes reveals the flame and the lightning and thunder stored up inside him. He's incomparably beautiful in dark shadowy silhouette which bursts suddenly into radiance fire kindling within glows with incandescent radiance through the jewel-like white ice crystalline effulgence of multifaceted scales.  I was allowed to give him a name but I cannot shake the first name I knew him by. So my hellion has two names just like the multinoma of the dead lost he torments. He has a fierce countenance as I also have. Teeth as Roman Swords give him his first name, Machairos. Osculum his second name.  The lord, my master, my saviour, chose him for me because he has a counterfeit in the adversaries herd, the steed of Jesus the forgone lost hope of the dead we torment. When we emerge at the battle of the great day, the overlanders will think I am the risen Jesus Christ coming to turn the tide of battle from my master to the adversary's advantage. This irony my master loves.  Machairos, his first name is Latin for the Roman sword used for close combat hacking and slicing, 18 to 24 inches long double edged for back and forth hacking and plunging left or right past armor panels, my steed has teeth that call that source to mind. He rarely bares those teeth. They flash just before he dismembers a lost dead soul with them, then he incinerates them still writhing and gnashing their teeth and weeping with a blast of flaming phosphorous acid from his mouth.  Osculum is Latin for kiss, or for mouth, like the kiss of death.   The only kiss my murdering mother ever gave me, the kiss of death, when she sent the murdering m.d. into my womb chamber. Yes, mine, you moron, you must be dumber than a coven of nine American supreme court injustices if you think my womb chamber belonged to her! Overlanders just never consider all the aspects of anything. Perhaps sunlight makes them stupid. No one ever foisted such murderous malificence on any society, in fact, many societies, as this coven did (without even the attorneys for either side beginning to touch all the issues, they could not, for Lucifer’s coven of nine sprung this on the overland world without even a national debate, let alone an overland worldwide discussion, leading the issue by decisis, and so, here I am, by the grace of Lucifer). Machairosculum has a kiss for you, oh coven of nine, a flurry of kisses over and over again. The battle of the great day will begin it. But some of the justices are getting their kisses here already.  I still remember the day of infamy, yes, my unbirthday.  Then did the m.d. she sent, filled as she was with his murderous propaganda such as:  I’m not human yet.  I don’t feel anything.  I’m like a cabbage or a fish. Oh! I felt it alright, and I've no compunction about returning the favor on their m.d.s and R.N.s and all things medical.  You see, the term medical means only to me: murderous and full of mayhem. For the medical community of today no calumny is to great.  The adversaries punishment will likely be socialization of medical care.  That will end the opulence the murdering medical industry currently enjoys. One day, the battle of the great day, on that great day I will lead my riders first through the hospitals then through their medical school teacher’s lounges and classrooms and lavish offices. The kiss of Machairosculum shall be on their lips that day, and a flurry of kisses throughout eternity. Lucifer promises to be one with me that day to enjoy with me something new to him, the satisfaction of vengeance born of righteous indignation.Yet I am troubled that the adversary may feel justified in condemning me when I torment the whole medical community. For there may be some who did not acquiesce in our wholesale murder.  I asked the master, “Lucifer, I had counted on challenging the adversary’s condemnation of me as unjust. Carrying out our plan strikes the medical profession and nursing professionals and all the medical community.  Does not one oppose our gruesome murder?  Can’t I keep my integrity intact somehow? Is there no way to distinguish?”  Lucifer replied: “Truly you are a prince. And had you been born you may have led nations against me. As it is, you owe me fealty for your life, and your very princeliness is my guarantee of that. It is also why your riders will always follow you into my bidding.As to distinguishment, my unfair Protophorous (unfair only in the medical professions treatment of you), the medical profession has distinguished itself ignobly enough to be compared with me and my own dark cohorts. Has not every medical worker hired or schooled since 1973 known full well this murderer’s and murderess’ melee of mayhem that awaited his and her willing arms. And were they so unfortunate to miss this holocaust as direct perpetrator, they would find their way in as one who freed another so to do, even as an aviation mechanic frees a pilot for the dogfight, surveillance or bombing run. Just about any position in the medical industry can be pulling direct murder duty on in uteros such as you were just before I came upon your fresh vacuum curettage bottle.  So the whole industry has become infected not just with the practice of annihilation of the in utero people, but more horrific even! They have been given a tormentors spirit and heart. They as a whole are caught up now in infliction and propagation of pain, suffering and death. The murder of the smallest and quietest, the most utterly defenseless, the most dependent and most extending of the hopeful hand for help with their new life. You see, Protophorous, it has given to them a worse fate than the kuru disease of the cannibals of Borneo and New Guinea, it has in fact given them a hellish soul, that is, to those in the know, the soul of the tormentor in torments, not just inured to it but caught up in the blood lust spirit of the carnage. That is why when once one starts in the medical mill, for some supposedly needed procedure or another, he seldom emerges from it for long until he finally expires.  The insurance companies are fighting cameras in medical situations for they know the sickening truth.  Don’t you see the justice, even mercy, of your cause, Protophorous?" Just then his un-majesty’s steed appeared.  She is Leviathon, a great dragon beyond measure lighting up the darkness of torments with a deep ruby red luminescence. The species group of dragons and serpents simply could not survive the calamity of terrestrial judgment by the adversary.  They already housed within themselves the biochemical equivalent of a nuclear reactor. The heavy metals and rare gemstones needed for biochemical nuclear fission explain their storied penchant for the stealing, hording and guarding of men’s treasure.  When the transparent reflective ice crystalline eggshell surrounding the earth poured forth on Noah, it swept the embodied fallen angels and their prodigy down here near us in Tartarus where all the demonic bodies are kept in a watery dungeon. Since that time the sun’s stark radiation has prohibited dragons, serpents, that is, from long existence in the overland‘s thin unshielded atmosphere. Their great mass cannot let go of the radiation absorbed, and the reactor inside begins a chain reaction as in Ezekiel 28:13 wherein the devil dragon was cast down to earth and a fire from within his beautiful precious stone scales consumed him. So dragons are an underworld phenomenon today. Still having all their glory and species differentiation. And Lucifer’s was the grandest dragon of them all and the most ancient. She made as if she would speak not to Lucifer, but to me. She who had spoken to Eve. IV.  Lucifer so commonly inhabits his ancient dragon now standing here before us that they are tightly associated together. They are together again now, seamlessly joining, though I did not even notice the change.   “It’s going to be Mother’s Day again, Protophorous.”  Levi reminded me.“My brothers and I shall prepare a telepathic card you can deliver and embellish for us, Excellence of creation, bearer of my master.”  I replied Haunting is our master’s peculiar skill, he has taught it to all his cohorts. I will assemble the riders in a grand fashion. We’ll ride to the nursery of the lost condemned souls, the Neverborn Nursery, where the unreconstitutables murdered in their womb chambers and all the females murdered in their womb chambers are being raised to the point where they can be tormented.  Not possible, you say. You readeth not your Bible. 1 Corinthians 7:13&14 states:  Let the woman whose husband is an unbeliever not leave him if he wishes to stay with her.  For the unbeliever husband is made Holy by his wife, just as an unbeliever wife is made holy by a believer husband, if the believer left the children would be like the demons, unclean, but with the believer present, they are holy. Now you know why Lucifer’s servants read the Bible and know it. It pins the adversary down. We know he abides by His Word.  Because He is holy, His Word traps him. There is a lot to like about the adversary. His own people skip the Bible and come up with their own schemes (I.e. all children are saved; all unaccountable are saved; 1Cor 7:14&15 doesn’t apply: to the contrary; we know the adversary does apply his word; and, we bank on it.), because they really don’t like the adversary even though they are saved and sing the worship songs. They don’t take the time to get to know him as we have done. For instance, applying the adversary’s Bible  to my own murdering mother tells me I can’t strike her in the underworld for she has passed from death to life by allying herself with Jesus, the adversary’s son and heroic scapegoat substitute for man’s sins.  Jesus  rose, from death for overlanders’s sins, into life resurrected, into which resurrected life those who ally with him in life share, except for those who the adversary is forsworn to oppose by an upper millstone oath, which somehow my murdering mother escaped from. Most of the murdering mothers in line for a diabolical telepathic birthday wish from their child will receive it almost as uttered by their little victims. But not mine. She is allied tightly to the adversary. And, our telepathic spirit may have to wait hours and hours for her to sin in some way so he can get his message into her. Then the shock of it causes her to repent and confess her sin to the adversary and unite even tighter with Jesus. But at least I get through to her. And, she prays for me! It makes me think Lucifer is wrong and that I am in play. It is too much to hope for that a denizen of the underworld can be plucked away by the adversary. Perhaps, even, plucked away to meet her in the overland. But, alas, the adversary has me pinned down by His Word.  She was not believing in Jesus at my murder, as in 1 Cor 7:13 & 14. She even had me murdered by an m.d., torn and sucked away by the sharp vacuum blade, my head crushed with an especially diabolical forceps like tool, designed for the purpose.  After all, it’s her constitutional right, according to the master’s coven of nine injustices. So by application of scripture, her prayers (for me) avail not. How shall I make that alliance, that allegiance of faith?  I shall not see her, but as soon as Jesus is seen in me I shall be murdered again a second time right here in torments. And then they will begin to torment me.  Plus, faith may not avail. I died unclean and may be sentenced forever unclean, reconstituted to life or not. And regardless of faith, just as faith is professed to no avail by all the lost dead condemned forever, even those we leap to persecute with rapacious malevolent hearts, so our profession of faith may be cancelled in its effect by our condemnation and our location! No one has faith in the adversary like the lost! V.  Machairosculum and I receive salutes and cheers wherever we fly. The lost dead scour the heavens with melting eyes for the coming of a demon dragon or a hellion to torment them. Believe me they show respect when they see one. I am also marked as a dark prince with a principality in Lucifer's dark domain. A salute is required of all.  Over the plains and down and up chasms, we swoop and glide and power upward towardsthe incandescence of a tormented soul at no mercy from a hellion and rider. My brothers saluting me, I fly distinctively about them and move on, a signal that they should try and follow me. Yes, brothers, no sisters, bible scholars all know angelic creation, even fallen, is male. Though the adversary has great use for females, my master has none, because he is still bitterly wroth at the loss of his legions’ physical bodies long locked away in chains of darkness in tartarus, bound for their indiscretions with the daughters of Adam. Said indiscretions cost also the overland bodily appearance for the whole fallen angelic race and domain save of me and my brothers. Yes, that makes us reconstituted live dead lost Hellion Riders special.  Our live bodies are a unique strategic asset to Lucifer. I am sort of glad, proud you might say, that my murdering mother is allied with the adversary who has use for her, and, even, that she is distinguished within his thralldom. That is why her Mother’s Day card requires careful composition if I am to pull the strings of her murderous heart. I am anxious to get started, that is why my brothers can not keep up!  My Hellion is allergic to the dichotomy in my soul, the range of feeling I have for my murdering mother. He goes the faster as a result, as if driven by both fear and the rush to battle at the same time. They rush out of the way below for, in the heat of battlerage and fear, poor Machairosculum glows and the phosphorescence flies from his mouth (osculum) and the underworld bursts into luminescence revealing mind bending scenes of torment. For a moment the multitudinous nature of the majority (Broad is the path here and many there be that find it) of humankind in torment is too much even for some of my brothers, and, heinous howls fill the underworld and stimulate the fear inducing high then low roaring hellhowls of the hellions and war whoops of the riders astride them. All the while electric-like lightening stings from Machairosculum’s scorpionlike tail fly through the nightlike sky with flashing illumination until they find a target to torment below who flares in incandescent flashing radiance until consumed in howling horror, then stands again ready anew for the next torment in store for him or her, the lost dead son or daughter of Adam. All hellion assault systems are morally guided.  Hellion assault systems include fiery blasts from behind the mighty teeth which are their own shredding and dismembering system; nerve agent gaseus smoke also from the hellions’ mouths; electric lightning darts from the mighty highly aim-able tail.  They are morally guided from tormenter hellion and rider to damnable tormented.  We riders give our hellions extra rewards and approbation for tormenting lost dead abortionists and abortive parents. Now we are at about full current strength, all that howling, like a clarion call, it raised my followers from the twenty-seven  corners of the underworld, sheol, hell-if you must.  We are two thirds of our battleday strength, over one hundred twenty five million of us murdered in clinics, exam rooms and hospitals in China, in America, in Europe-a host of countries and languages. Lucifer gave us English in honor of his American coven of nine injustices who made us possible and who keep us possible and for the small minority in his American democratic party led now by his primadonnas, senators from California, to whose will the party of death must assent to hold its hodgepodge of special interest groups together and receive from them presidential candidate approval. Here is Neverborn Nursery where there is not room for us as we behold the faces of the lost dead children, females who Lucifer won’t reconstitute, and males whose v.c. bottleswere lost or who were too jagged and disintegrated to reconstitute. Like a million million, a billion and a quarter billion plus all my riders, and over two score million added annually, 159,000 each day. (The numbers don’t jive. The murderous m.d. and r. n./l.v.n. fiends don’t work in their regular offices Friday afternoon, Saturday and Sunday.  They aren't golfing, neither do they knit. They are at the murdering mayhem of the abortion tables lined up in rows and rows. Queen Shabat has a new meaning to our third millennium medical professional.) Yet has Lucifer reserved for these lost dead aborted children  5,000 square miles of horizontal caverns:  Neverborn Nursery.  Bats take care of them until about the sixth month of life (3 months before overlanders would give full term birth). Sometimes the frustrated bats that fill the underworld are so frustrated by the lost murdered dead who they are raising that they bite their faces off.  In a moment the murdered lost dead returns to his or her prior cherubic form with a peaceful look that haunts the bat to further insanity.  Such torments as these are nothing in comparison to the murderous mayhem given them by M.D.s who trespassed in their womb and birth chambers, giving them neither anesthesia nor dignity. Then the lost dead females are made to help raise them. These female lost dead, the ones who care for the murdered-in-the-womb lost dead, are the ones who murdered their own baby in the womb at a hospital or abortion clinic(reproductive health center). Many were told by their pastor that they were going to heaven and are as shocked as the rest when they wound up here. You see, Matthew 18:6-14 trumps John 3:16, but their pastor didn't know that.Matthew 18:5  Whoever welcomes one of my micro children into their family and society, welcomes Me.  (I ask you, isn’t the opposite of welcome our final murderous rejection.)  Matthew 18:6  On the contrary whoever murders even one of My micro children …, they shall wish they merely were noosed to an anvil (what is noosed but a sign to us down here: Damned!  Torment me!) hanged around their throat  and they were plunged beneath the Mariana’s trench.  (A symbol like unto the disembodying of Lucifer’s demonic horde whose overland bodies are chained in watery darkness.)  Matthew 18:7 Howling misery and disastrous fate shall befall the devil’s overland world, Kosmos Diabolicus, because of the crimes of murder, yes, Satan’s murder crimes must be carried out; however, what  misery and torment shall befall the duped perpetrator of these criminal offenses of murder(and what could offend one worse than painful bloody murder)  Matthew 18:8  On account of said misery and torment, if your hand or your foot commit’s the murderous criminal offense charged to your account, chop them off and get them far from you.  God prefers you enter into life eternal even if that means with neither both hands nor both feet.  God would rather not throw you into everlasting flaming torment with both feet and both hands intact.  (Hadn’t it been better for the abortionist to dismember himself rather than me.  When I ask the lost dead abortionists, they agree.)  Matthew 18:9  Furthermore if your eye wants to commit the criminal offense of murdering My micro children,  poke out your eye and throw it far from you:  God prefers you enter eternal resurrection life with only one eye. God hates having to cast you into underworld fiery torment with eyes intact.  (Take your eye off that opposite sex object of unmarried sex affection, overlander, or we might soon be poking you in your eye down here in the underworld, unmarried sex carries with it the guilt of abortion).  Matthew 18:10  Pay attention to yourself that you despise (Couldn’t mean in utero torture murder, could it, foolish overlander?) not one of these micro children of mine (the adversary’s Greek Bible autograph word is MICROS, in case you think size matters); I mean to say that their spirits do always commune in heaven before the face of My Father in heaven    (Those same spirits do testify against you in judgment directly to God the Father when you murder their charges by abortions) Matthew 18:11 For the Son Of Man (My title I gave to watchman Ezekiel I charged to warn my people against sin) charges to the rescue to save these, my micro children, otherwise consigned to torments and the lake of fire.If this is not enough, the adversary pins himself totally down from any possibility of saving the murderous mothers, fathers and abortionists in Matt. 18:14: notwithstanding verses to the contrary the will of our Father in heaven opposes letting even one of these my micro children be murdered and perish into torments of the underworld.  (Perish in the original  Greek of the adversary’s scripture is apollumi which means both to be murdered and also to be consigned forever to the fires of torments and the lake of fire.  (If only this passage were for us, alas, it is to condemn those who by our murder condemn us with themselves.) VI.  I, Protophorous, as Prince of the Hellion Riders, I get lots of leisure to ponder and consider, as becomes a prince. Principalities in Lucifers thralldom are ruled using principles that work. And, they all come from the Bible. To attack a Bible believing entity, demand that it make its decisions and debates apart from the Bible. This hamstrings it. We would never operate that way. It is the adversary’s word that holds the universe together and orders every aspect of it.  So I’ve been pondering it again.  In Matthew 18:5 Whoever receives one of these little ones receiveth me. I looked it up in Strong’s dictionary:  Of the babe in his or her womb chamber  Dechomai means in Greek  2b2) to receive into one’s family to bring up or educate;  Of Jesus 2c1) to receive favorably, give ear to, embrace, make one’s own, approve, not to reject.  Conversely, then, a once for all time rejection of Jesus occurs when one of these little ones is not received as in 2b2 above; and, in fact, rejected in the most offensive and scandalous way. A good devil needs to know the Bible so he can know what is and isn’t his.  We call this pinning down the adversary. The pastors whose flock we devour, they just don't get that deep into the Bible to consider such matters. We sometimes ruminate on it, Lucifer and I, whether they are lazy or stupid. Believe me, the spirit that inspired prophets who wrote these scriptures does not indwell or fill us as it does the pastors and teachers of the overland. What would happen if they spent hours and hours a day following the spirit through the Bible and then spent more hours and hours debating it? No more babies murdered in their womb chambers, I presume.  What can be more an offense or more scandalous as a stumbling stone to continued faith in God than to be hacked and sucked away. No member of the post 1972 medical industry escapes our grasp. They are not given the gift of faith to believe in Jesus, for they are warred on by God. The upper millstone was a military concept in Israel.                                        A Mother’s Day Scripture Card for you"Oh Mother, I couch this wish on your day, Mother’s Day.  You cast me off , but I do not cast you away.  Give in to maudlin tears.  Commune with me in dark places.   So you shall receive me though I be in torments.   You shall be in torment of depression.  Then, we can commune!  Consider, oh mother of mine, Matthew 18:6 On the contrary whoever murders even one of My micro children …, they shall wish they merely were noosed to an anvil (what is noosed but a sign to us down here: Damned!  Torment me!) hanged around their throat  and they were plunged beneath the Mariana’s trench.  Oh, mother, how have you escaped my grasp from torments, How has the adversary removed thy millstone/anvil from around thy neck? The war millstone trumps the life eternal of John 3:16 Whosoever believes in Jesus shall not perish(apollumi) for the “gift of faith” will not be given as in Eph 2:8&9.   I have a scriptural right to know what keeps you from the torment with which I would torment you? By the way, your m.d. you sent to trespass in my womb chamber, he really offended me.  I lay it to your charge.

Matthew 18:7 Howling misery and disastrous fate shall befall the devil’s overland world, Kosmos Diabolicus, because of the crimes of murder, yes, Satan’s murder crimes must be carried out; however, what  misery and torment shall befall the duped perpetrator of these criminal offenses of murder(and what could offend one worse than painful bloody murder)  By you it came, mother, by you. And the man was the bad doctor.   Adversary hate him and make millstone war evermore against him.  Matthew 18:8  On account of said misery and torment, if your hand or your foot commit’s the murderous criminal offense charged to your account, chop them off and get them far from you.  God prefers you enter into life eternal even if that means with neither both hands nor both feet.  God would rather not throw you into everlasting flaming torment with both feet and both hands intact. Yes, Mom, you had an agent, but I lay it still to both of your charges. How can you have escaped eternity in torment and the Lake of Fire with me. You did not resist at all. Certainly not to the cutting off of your appendage instead. As for the no-good doctor, Didn't he hear the scripture: Don't do it! Cut your hand off first! Pluck out your eye first, and cast it from you! Matthew 18:9  Isn’t it better to enter eternal life with one eye than to have both eyes while being cast into fiery torments. The doctor I'll see, but not you, mother not dear and not sweet but not to be mine to torment and berate forevermore.
Matthew 18:10  Pay attention to yourself that you despise not one of these micro children of mine; I mean to say that their spirits do always commune in heaven before the face of My Father in heaven. (You see, right there in the womb chamber we were once His, we beheld God and we believed in Jesus! Did you come before God, between God and his beloved Micro.)
 .... Now!  I hear it as a blast from my consciousness, or is it the adversary answering my query on the merits of his Word how he can save you, Mother, from our grasp....She cried out from the abortion operating table and stirrups "No I won't do it, I want the baby, I can get welfare for him, or sell him, I just won't murder him!" Their hope of profit fleeing as other mothers in the lineup of murdering tables, perhaps 24, bare, knees and feet high in the air, considered her words. The anesthesiologist rushed over and they tied her foot and hand. "BIG NEEDLE STICK! " an oriental medical professional murderer told her. Then she was out cold, and, shortly after, so was I, not anesthetized I assure you, but cooling in pieces in a v.c bottle.  I am here because you, mother, were lost when I expired, but, you were in play, for the adversary to garner into his forever thralldom, because you saved yourself, and almost me, at the last. Mother, it never is too late. Except, of course, for me. Some small comfort I take in the sorrow my Happy Mother's Day Card may cause you for it is my only contact with you forever.   Without affection, your lost dead son you murdered, Protophorous, King of the Hellion riders. A far more common wish comes from the girl neverborn in Torment’s  “Neverborn Nursery”:  My dear mummy, no parties for me, no stroller you see, not pretty in pink, no diaper to stink, no dimple and chub, torn by bit from your tum, and a scream none could hear, as I jerked away with fear, from the demon you sent, with his vacuum sword bent, he sucked away hands and feet, oh how cheap and how neat, you destroyed me. How sweet, Mummy, I wait for you, we'll be together, you know it's true, here in Neverborn Nursery, I'm waiting for you! At the end of your days you ‘ll see me, and, between torments we receive, and your chores taking care, of the newly neverborn, then we can torment each other, as I ask and you tell me, how good life might have been, in the overland if only I were everborn. Unhappy Mother's Day' Mummy! Without Love! Your undear daughter! without a name.   Needless to say, this young poet was an offended victim of a criminal offense.  So the adversary’s upper millstone military doctrine was engaged on her murdering mother, father, doctor and nurse.  It was so stupid to run right up to an enemy tower because they had things to drop on you.  King David learned this at officer training.  Joab used it to chasten King David when King David murdered Uriah.  I’m sure Jesus is telling the pastors to come that there is no future in murdering little ones in or out of their womb chamber. Look up for the millstone falling on you if you do. Are the pastors telling their flocks this message, and their flocks ignore it, and continue blithely at the murder?  Or are the quiescent peaceful pastors summonsing up for themselves the wages of the recalcitrant watchman the adversary warned Ezekiel not to be?  The adversary credited pastoral watchmen with blood-guiltiness for not warning their flock and parish, “Do not murder the unborn!”  It doesn’t help to look up, the millstones are morally guided.   The war aspect of millstone applied to tying it to an enemy and throwing him or her into the sea is analogous to the underworld.  The sons of god who abused the daughters of men were flooded with their superhuman children and washed back behind the floodgates of the waters below the earth, held there in watery chains of darkness.  Bad as that is, it’s still far better than here in torments. So to m.d.s, r.n.s, l.v.n.s, heath care professionals and all workers in the medical industry: We’re waiting for you in torments.  See you here!  Matthew 18:6!  If you harm God’s micros yet to be born, better for you if  God noose you to a millstone and drown you in the Marianas Trench. VII.  Lucifer let my card go unedited. He seems concerned about me as if I might crack up emotionally. We tormentors wind up tormented at times. I am too strong to respond negatively to anything that can happen. Besides all that, I was asking for an answer and got one.  Logically, I am sure all concern the dragon has for me pertains to how I can help her master, his majesty, Lucifer, my Lord, in his contest with the adversary. Yet she convinces me otherwise at every turn. She seems so concerned for me. She looks as if she will cry. Yet she will turn heaven upside down with the fury of their war. Quite an old Lady.  I will favor them with a response.   “The adversary will still allow alignment and sequestration if an abortive murder is forced upon an unwilling mother?” I observed as if inquiring. From the depths of her glowing insides the old dragon responded:  “I think you want to express your feelings now, Protophorous, more than you want to muse at the order of things.”  There is never a dull moment here in torments. Always in flames and gnashing their teeth in agony the denizens of this dark domain of the devil cannot help but cry out or weep loudly. They gnash their teeth to keep silent so a tormentor won’t take notice of them. The categories of tormentors are many and varied. The dragon and associated fallen are prime inflictors of pain and torment! My fellows and I are not far behind.   I could let distractions draw me from this duo. But I have respect for my liege, and for Leviathon, his steed and battlemate, I have a feeling that she cares, even though that is impossible and irresistible under the overland.  So I responded. “Yes, But, it seems to me, best adorned, most resplendent in bejeweled glory in heaven, in the overland and anywhere, it seems to me that she had plenty of intent and conspiratorial guiltiness with the solicitous counsellor, with the receptionist at the reproductive health center, with the social worker who helped her with MediCal to pay for it.” (Which counselor incriminated the whole California state legislature and governor Brown and the California Supreme Court and lower courts with my blood. My suffering and my blood shed will be paid for in kind by their own blood-guiltiness. Their blood-guiltiness tearing and consuming their flesh and tormenting them unceasingly in tormenting contests will prepare my riders for the battle of the great day. I will often return the favor of my blood shed when they get here to my underground domain, mine by your grace, my liege.  I have already revenged the blood-guiltiness of some, those who arrived already. Whosoever sheds man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed. See, they are pinned down by the adversary and given to me.)  “Protophorous,” she interjected, "Is it that you feel injustice at the adversary for covering her with his pinions and keeping her from you? Is it for torment or for love that you want her?"  His unmajesty sneered at Leviathon’s query about love.  I know they read each others thoughts.  So she must spontaneously speak what she feels without thinking ahead. I shall respond to the Old Lady genuinely.   "Love is of the adversary and you know we all have none.  But, a certain fond attachment arose in me as I tried to reason out how she could murder me so, and, the adversary still enfold her. It will abate now. You see, Madame Levi, I have the answer. Now I shall turn my attention to my father." "Father's Day approaches."  We all three said together as a band of tormentors went by leading their prey, a sort of black parade. VIII.   I was sorry to see her go. But, she had done one great job of snapping me out of my sulky state. Now I have a new mission as well as my princely duties and my battlefield and training commander duties. My dad, who dismembered me, is in portly middle age now, alone and in charge of two teenage adopted children. From what I gather, except for a hot Latin temper, he is sensitive and avoids conflict, protective and opposed to injustice wherever he finds it. He is still as strong as in athletic days, though out of shape. He is prone to drop things after which he may take leave of his usual cheerful Christian character and let fly a vulgarity of profanity. He is respected in his community as a dynamo for the adversary and has cost the master countless souls bound otherwise for the underworld. Yet, though he has aligned with the adversary, yet he is lost. For the adversary has laid on him all the blood-guiltiness for my murder. It was at his initial suggestion and constant pressure, long resisted by my mother that this fiendish father brought about my murder. Crafty and clever at manipulation, he lied his way into a girl’s heart, married her, and abdicated the responsibility for the child they created by suggesting they murder the baby, and then haranguing the poor girl about why she wanted to keep her baby. The coup de non grace came when he finally, as if giving in, told her that if she is to have the baby, she must go with him to Las Vegas and marry anew, because their first marriage in Tijuana was unlikely legal. Whether calculated or not, that was the heartbreaker for her. She thought he was opposing the birth not because of professional ambitions and delayed gratification, not to help her continue in school; rather she thought because he viewed the baby as an iron ball and chain cementing them together forever. She thought, that is why he wanted a legal marriage. It was just that she wanted him to want her that way, that he would cement himself to her, even without the baby. In despair she impulsively reversed her stance so as not to make him the altruistic martyr bound to her by child and marriage; no matter what. Suddenly he was for the babies life and she against it. This to him was so unexpected. He half knew why, though far less than half intended her to take on the perception she had taken. Now having recommended the murderous dismemberment and headsquashing at the first (And, don’t you think I am without headaches now.), now it was too much to change position and argue convincingly the other way, and it was not something he was inclined or empowered to do, anyway. Many parents and counselors have and will face his fate at my hellion, Machairosculum’s savage attack. IX.   Now, when my mum has scarcely escaped this Torment. Now appears my dad, who dismembered me and squashed my head through an m.d., r.n., l.v.n. and clinic staff. Not just these but also the supreme court; the congress; the 50 state legislatures; the appellate and district courts who had authority to call most of roe v. wade dictum:  You are mine along with all the media save the likes of Ann Coulter and Pat Buchanon.  Machairosculum has lots of long kisses to lay on you that will enlighten you all to the depths of your being.  See you here!  For you are not only guilty of a billion and a half in Torments of the underworld, you are guilty of the eternal condemnation of both: the mothers of these never born; and, the fathers, too.  One day when Machairosculum illuminates the underworld with his phosphorescent vomitus, there you will be at center stage, finally enlightened, having fulfilled your dark gruesome and murderous destiny. The same fate shall have those who neglected me and my ilk, condemning us when they chose and voted for such as you all. Overlanders are so narrow in their thought processes. Granted I am a little better endowed mentally than an overlander.  But, it seems so obvious that you will face everyone and every creature you harm, hurt or murder, yes, you shall be together forever in the eternal state. What could these narrow-minded leaders and medical professionals have been thinking?   Doctor, Your clientele in eternity will be the ones you murdered in the womb, all grown up now. And, you will all be in flames wailing and gnashing your teeth, both client and doctor. No golf course for you. No cocktail party. So not sorry for you. To the contrary, instead, I will torment you unceasingly. And, no good old dad, it will be the same for you. So listen up moms and dads: that babe inside you, or inside your girlfriend or wife; that same baby is going to be with you forever and always: in peace or in penitence; in life or here, in death; in love or here, in hate. X.   Blood-guiltiness has overtaken the nation.  The nation is lost.  Blood-guiltiness is what holds Lucifer down. It is the damn spot of Lady Macbeth.  Apparently there is a righteous blood, a blood righteousness if you will, that trumps my master and his princes.  The blood of a righteous man shed on behalf of the unrighteous for an atonement of the adversaries righteous wrath over their sin.  There is no salvation in atonement alone.  It requires alignment with the adversary and his Man who is also the Son of God and the lamb slain before the foundation of the world was lain, in which foundation we now torment and plot our rise. So alignment appears to be by faith and trust in this Jesus, then the atonement is applied to the individual who trusts and  has faith.  Only then the lost is saved and enfolded about by the wings of God and beyond our grasp.  It seems that one can plead this blood against the master and his hordes and so keep them at bay because the blood of unrighteousness has to bow before the righteous blood of Christ, the blood of a willing sacrifice.  Lucifer is according to the Holy writ a murderer from the beginning and the father of murder, having incited Cain and the murder of all prophets.  Thence, whenever a murder is committed, it is my master’s bidding.  His very own blood-guiltiness is transferred to the unwitting manslayer.  Why would he not bid it?  The perpetrator is Lucifer’s property now.  A hard heart toward the adversary turns the adversary's rule of love to the malice of murder.  Such a heart finds acceptance and approval from my master, Lucifer.   This heart had my own fiendish father towards me.  It started when debates were held at middle school and no one was found to take up my masters cause, yet a debate was desired. And so the dismembering dad found another possibility of viewpoint by taking up the unrighteous cause.  Next, dismembering dad listened to his own dad about following the political left to protest America’s war in Viet Nam. There he found the drugs marijuana, tobacco, alcohol and camaraderie of purpose. He also adopted their mindset that murdering in the womb chamber was a matter of fact common, sense option. He adopted this mindset neither knowing he had done , nor even debating or thinking about this wrong choice, very much like how the coven of nine supreme court justices slipped the poison of abortion into the culture.  There was no earthshaking changes in head-squashing dad’s thinking when he married my murderous mom.  Nothing absolving him of blood guiltiness presented itself prior to his suggestion and later acquiescence to my grisly murder. So it stands to my reason his head-squashing soul is forfeit.   XI.   One problem only presents itself.  Later on, after my murderous mother left her murdering mate, he then switched his college major to English.  He maintained his intellectual honesty and willingness to debate without shouting down (anathema to the political left their concepts are so important, they believe) perhaps by a miracle from the adversary (perhaps a hanger-on from four years of Bible believing Lutheran primary education, where perhaps he was sequestered and enfolded by the adversary). He discovered all the great authors in English culture had a working knowledge of the King James Bible and quoted and used it freely, fully expecting their readers to have the same frame of reference.  Like Eve, not willing to be naïve, in his case about what he was reading, the murdering madman added the Bible to his course load and to his wine, marijuana, tobacco and caffeine.  The master just does not like that Bible inserted into any overland situation. Perhaps this is why.  Head-squasher became convinced of the reality and truth of the Bible four and a half books into it.  Dismembering dad was barred by millstone warfare adversarial principles from receiving the gift of saving faith.  However, he said to his murderous self: “What would I do, if I believed the adversary and His word?”  Then headsquasher resolved to follow suit, to act the way he thought he would if he believed. That was thirty three years ago. My fiendish father has not departed from his resolve. It is nearly as total a quandary as my murderous mom presented before the adversary answered my Bible based query about her. XII.  That there are fruit; that the gift of saving faith is given to those hearing his message; that there are spiritually discerned meanings this murderer sees that I cannot see: It makes me believe the adversary has thrown out his millstone warfare adversarial principles in this case and sequestered and enfolded this dismemberer. I am hard pressed as to why? Is it me? I somehow count less than others murdered in their own womb chambers. Perhaps because I have a high position in this low place. However it is, Father’s Day approaches. I will see that head-squasher hears from me. A rising fury builds inside me. Angry because: though given the gift of preeminence among the Neverborn;  I am in danger somehow of having the dubious distinction that I am the only one like myself, with no parent to torment due to injustice from the adversary. How could the adversary sequester and enfold the ones who did this to me. It simply does not mix with his reputation. The thought of my earthly father, that dismembering head-squasher, in the confines of the adversary’s “heaven” makes my blood boil with righteous indignation. The rage inside me has ignited the chemical reactor in machairosculum. Now he wants to fly and gallop and torment. It must be like when the overlanders have a puppy and he wants to play.  I am going to oblige. XIII.  Here at Neverborn Nursery where we are vacationing, only the lost dead parents of the Neverborn are tormented.  It is not as scorching here.  The murdered children growing to tormentable adulthood is a relaxing site.  It also reminds us of the justice of our cause. From Mother’s Day to Father’s Day the Fallen angels will have to do all the tormenting.       Our bodies and even our souls tire and wear out like an overlander’s does. Our very presence tells the end of the age. For two hundred million riders are prepared in the earth for the day of battle at the end of the age (Revelation 9:14,15&16 is where the adversary pins himself down about us), just the seventh part of the number of murders in womb chambers already lain at the American coven’s feet. Any wonder there is no mention of America in the millennial age. In retribution, my brothers and I shall scourge America first. Did the American Coven of nine have any idea that they were creating the mounted army that would destroy the third part of humankind. And, we are five eighths of full strength now. So the Supreme Court of the United States of America (Lucifer’s elite coven of nine) made the decision, leading the whole culture by decisis (judicial decision) on the issue, the decision that brings about the end of the age. Many other events in history might have precipitated the end of the age. The providential hand of the adversary overruled in every instance. (God is not willing that any soul perish.) For Jesus the adversary’s Son would always look to his Earthly mother Mary. And, she would always say, “Please my Lord, a while longer that your bride may grow. More may be saved from torments and the Lake of Fire.”  This time however she said, “My Lord the time must be right, for the American coven has now forty million murders in the womb chamber and a million more a year. All these forced into torments (by the unbelief of their parents who will now be denied the gift of faith), and then the lake of fire. My Lord, these along with 80,000,000 parents of these plus all the councilors and uncles and aunts and such who promoted the murders. These you must now war against; dropping the millstones of holy war on from heaven's Hightower, denying them the gift of God, even saving faith(Eph 2:8&9). In light of these overwhelming losses due to the American coven of nine and their cohorts led by California’s prima donna senators, and, additionally, my Lord, the U.S.A. led a billion and a half worldwide murdered in their womb chambers each have two parents doomed under millstone holy war against them from heaven’s Hightower. These 3 billion plus the relatives who counseled this, all denied the gift of God, saving faith. For the first time in history My Lord and my Son, and again thanks to the American coven of nine, I can only say, "My Son Jesus, Let Your divine juggernaught begin to roll!” And, in this case, the adversary's Son is obedient to His mother. XIV.  “What would I do if I believed?”  My murdering dad said. It appears that if I believe in the adversaries son Jesus I will in some way unite by being a part of their same group. Sad small way to join my biological family I never knew. I can’t count on any of those blessings of life and eternal happiness for I am once condemned. I am an outcropping of the lost dead. Back into the pulse and breath of life yet not of light of day. I fear I am as ever lost as the unreconstitutable or as the girls and women lost dead, murdered in their womb chambers. And yet, Henry the VIII had no Army like mine, nor Napolean, no Hitler could put 125,000,000 men in the air. Neither were any of these prophesied to kill a third of the earth now grown to 6,000,000,000 including 4,000,000,000 everlost by reason of bloodguiltiness for the Neverborn. The last 75,000,000 are being trained. Soon, My grand army and I, we will number 200,000,000 mounted Hellion riders. What then is to stop me?  Fear of the adversary for one. For another, Desire to join the God of Love and wash this hate away in the adversary’s son’s blood. Though the gift of faith cannot be given me, still there is my father’s route. Though he had closed the door on all hope and felt the falling millstones of Heaven’s Hightower at war against him, still he said, “What would I do if I believed? As to the first, FEAR is to stop me.  Fear rules my master’s kingdom. Fear of the Lake of fire, fear of being bound, fear of losing, of failure, of the adversary, of a powerful adversary aligned overlander reversing all our progress and progressing himself, fear of the pain and torment we dish out and are prophesied to receive! So I am not new to fear.  The Master has ingrained caution into us. Caution will hold onto our hard won gains.Regarding point 2: Desire to be clean, forgiven, justified; instead of charging into a prophesied against, Word condemned, campaign of murder and mayhem.  I suppose if I believe and am not enfolded and sequestered and indwelt by the adversaries spirit, then no one would ever know I believed.  As a nod of deference to my regal status I am not indwelt occasionally or otherwise by demonic persons such as Heliarchus, Misanthrope are indwelt often by Beastmaster.  Otherwise, this line of thought would be near impossible.  But what will happen if the entire underworld is made to bow the knee and salute because they see the adversary in me.  Oh, well, then, in that event, I suppose I will be in His Heaven soon enough. Like the rich young ruler; what a place I have now in the adversaries grand scheme.  And who has in life, or life here in death for that matter, been able to ride, to ride my hellion, to ride, barely in front of 200,000,000 abreast, to meld with my telepathic beast, yes, to zero in and destroy targets more sensed than seen, to ride in righteous vengeance against the world of those who had no mercy in our grisly murder right in our own womb chambers. The scars of which we still feel.  To hear the Neverborn in torments and growing up to be tormented, to hear them scream our praise and urge us ever on.  Yes righteous screams for our righteous cause of, well, just what was done to us, but to us a bit earlier.  It is something I would lose, with perhaps nothing to gain. Compare this with my murdering father’s accomplishments so far as a benchmark for what the adversary might have in store for me should I turn coat. The headsquasher, as a matter of fact, has my master’s resources jumping and running about.  He finds new ways to get the message of sequestration and enfolding by allegiance to the adversary’s son:  This dismemberer taught Sunday school to low ages gaining universal sequestration and enfolding until my master laid an unfounded accusation to his charge.  My murdering father conducts a wedding ministry aimed the lost, the unchurched, the alienated by cultural divide, and those who feel alienated at their church, or, whom their church has forbidden to marry. This killer’s message of the benefits of allegiance with the adversary is delivered at a favorable time with fair success.  The headsquasher conducts a street ministry giving the good news of cleansing away sins by allegiance to adversary’s son.  The murderer holds evening Bible classes  to impart his Bible knowledge and outlook.  The  dismemberer keeps a website with Bible teaching, The information the master seeks to squelch fills the website.  He recommends promotion of a political/Christian party.  The piece de resistance: my murdering dad is writing a novel about me, designed to correct church errors and right (church error caused) societal woes and promote allegiance to the adversary’s Son and His Word.  This headsquasher attends local church, often helps take offering, so standing openly for the adversary, heartening the disheartened and encouraging the discouraged.  The dismemberer sang in the church choir, praising the adversary, who is present in the praise.  Someone keyed murdering dad’s car, so he covered it with tasteful bumper stickers promoting Jesus the adversary’s son as the answer and the needful element. People have asked for prayer and aligned with the adversary as a result. Even his house bears child craft art crosses on the front door. Somehow what he has, though murderer indeed, somehow it is better than grandiose power and possession, better than authority and recognition.  And it is with peace and confidence that he keeps adding on a new ministry or recognizes and jumps a new opportunity to advance the thralldom of the adversary.  Peace and confidence beats the best the underworld can muster: fear, worry, hate and fatalism. XV.  It is a good deal cooler here at Neverborn Nursery, though still intensely hotter than any overland suface temperature. I have been listening with interest to Plato, spared from his torments to teach the growing lost dead murdered in their womb chambers.  Plato is unnerved at my presence and makes the neverborn know they are in the presence of a person of some importance. The Neverborn look at me. I remind them I was taught right here by their teachers. Plato discusses the young nobleman who prosecuted his own father for killing a slave, beating his poor slave to death. It did not come out in the original dialogue whether or not the son was also beaten and that near to the point of death. They bring it up to lost dead Plato because the bodies and the minds of these murdered in their womb chamber lost dead neverborn are exquisitely attuned to feel any sort of pain as are the bodies of all the dead.  They may wince at any sort of teaching sensing slights and insults never intended due to design hypersensitivity.  The design is from the adversary who orders all things including their standing here below, in death.  This rich young ruler of Platonian Athens does remind me of myself.  What truck shall I have with my murdering dad.  I sense a red pall like what the dead say an overland sunset may resemble.  Turning from horrified Plato, I spy a glowing red cloud like the descriptions of the yellow sun.  It's madame Levi and his unmajesty, Lucifer, Lord of the underworld.  Machairosculum appears at my side.  He fears and respects the old lady of Eden.  Lucifer truly is a red devil in Levi's red glow.  Levi lets Machairosculum light on her back.  My great steed of battle looks puny atop Levi.  Levi is like the great invincible flagship of an overland naval fleet.  In some ways even the lost dead get a fleeting glimpse of misplaced pride.  Machairosculum orbits about us.  I kneel and Lucifer bids me rise.  Lucifer and I walk amid the giant red colored jewels adorning Levi's red scale tiled back.  We all look resplendent in lost dead red glory."Protophorous," Says Lucifer, "Look out over Neverborn Nursery, as we shine on them, a billion pair of eyes are watching us all of whom Levi can blind in an instant." Continuing on a new subject, Lucifer said "Protophorous, my son of flesh and blood, There are among your host, other riders like you in that they are not indwelt by my fallen demonic cohorts.  Unlike you, it is not by my choice. They appear like all the others. They don't seem to resist it, even seem to want it." Said Satan going on, "In your case Protophorous, I defer to your true royalty as firstfruit of the underworld hellion riders of the flesh and blood." I scarce could contain my joy.  They must be stupid if they want the demonic possession.  Peer pressure is the stronger of the weapons we use to fill the underworld with lost dead overlanders.  Small wonder it also works with the lost dead murdered in the womb chamber.  What I hoped is that I could have a confidant among these fellow riders. “Protophorous,”  He has my attention always, except for a vain tendency of mine to be lost in thought, though rarely in reverie, not so many good memories for the live dead neverborn of the underworld."Yes, My Lord!"  I replied.“I assign you to search out this matter for me. Are they with us, or, does the adversary somehow prevent them, that he may use them against us? Whatever reason the adversary may have, it will be at cross purposes, very negative, for me and my, yea, our designs.” The Devil as much as commanded.“Yes my Lord, I will search it out. This vacation time is a perfect setting for it.”   I affirmed. I feel exhilaration. I feel like I may finally have an opportunity to confide in someone akin to me. I might finally talk freely.  Alas, all hope is being dashed.  Theses riders do not even think at all.  Perhaps they are shellshock by the underworld and its constant oppression, or by their tormenting and training duties. I will consult the hagmaster.  Machairosculum carried me past the tormenting ground of the recently expired shamefully unattired below: congress-people, politicians, governors and presidents dancing on the hot cooling lava floor jumping from the bursts of flame engulfing them whenever they take their unease.  Sensing my disdain Machairosculum poured down phosphorescent vomitus to consume some of them and horrify the rest. From his tail shot out lightning bolts of molten electric charges. We can’t slow down to enjoy ourselves with their torment.  The assignment from his unmajesty urged me on. I hurried the more, now curious at the mystery, the question! As I pass the congress we speed through the air.  Machairosculum thinks we are rushing to battle, and he doubles his speed.  He doesn’t think anything is worth excitement except warring.  The excitement he senses is my excitement about the question, and about the potential of friends to talk to with at least the hope of confidentiality.  As we approach the hagmaster’s confines I can feel a fluidity about my very mind and soul as if at any moment three or four unwanted guests will join my being.  I urge Machairosculum to let go the phosphorescent vomitus of fire, and he obliges. Recognition flashes through the hagmaster’s telepath demon corps and the assault on my personhood comes to an abrupt halt. The hagmaster gives me a grand tour of our most extensive overland touchpoints operation.  Witches, mediums, seers, soothsayers, palmistry readers, tarot card readers, spiritualists, necromancers, wizards, mages and magis, shamans and medicine men, psychics and fortunetellers, warlocks and ayatollahs, mullahs, oracles, devil worshippers and swamees, satannic rock bands and new age cultists, Idol worshipping oriental priests and juju bearing Africans: all such have one thing in common. They have dealings with the hagmaster’s agents. They owe their low position in the overland to him. For us it is a key overland resource. Telepath demons operate freely through these and allow us to control some and give us vital information about others. When pressed into tormenting, a telepath demon can inflict unbelievable paralyzing and killing pain and sorrow from within or without a victim.  The telepaths quickly came back with the answer. Overlander prayers keep demons from possessing these noble riders.  Strong, healthy, all there, but not in a mindset to question things, these lone riders. I wonder what the overlanders pray for the murdered lost dead. They hardly can know that the subjects of their effective prayers are reconstituted and live on, body and soul, in the foulest most torturous place that can be imagined.  But these few overlanders may be on the top of the adversary’s game. Without them there was hardly hope for me turning coat much less in concert with others.   Not that there is so much hope.  There never lived a live man (if you can call me live) who loved the master more than I have loved him and do love him.  I grew up in Neverborn Nursery with no hope of even being tormented by the devil himself. Then I was raised back up into my broken body. Finally agonizingly reconstituted under the personal oversight of his unmajesty Lucifer himself. As I grew the master and Levi invested their own time, strength and subtle wisdom in me at each step of the way. Chapter XVI.  The master asked me if I would spy on these uninhabitable unpossessable riders. It suits my purpose to make them my bodyguards, palace guards, if I had a palace. I will start thinking out loud about a few matters. I will see if they are deeper than they appear.   “Well bodyguard, if there were only a threat against me, You might take your job seriously.” I probed.  “Your Majesty, I am on pain of death to both protect you and show off just how well I am trained, and how proficient I am.” The captain of my guards replied.“Well, then, Let’s train.” I responded. I called out to a passing dragon riding tormentor demon. The dragon held Lenin and Stalin in one talon, in another Mao Tse Tsung and Chou En Lai. Still another held Che Guevarra. It was their lucky day.“Ignoble unmajesty of the blue dragon.” I called across the chasm below. “Your beast is barely alive, nay, turning blue.” “Live Dead King, why do you make sport with me? Lord Lucifer has commanded us to be at your service, renewing his command to safeguard you this very morning.”  He said.“My taunt is at this intended result: that these my riders and I have a training battle against you and your tired old blue salamander.”  I said. In an unbelievably quick slithering fleeing motion the menacing blue dragon was in front of Machairosculum, then bursting forth in fireworks which turned away from us  at the last, and consumed his cargo of lost dead tormented, Lucifer’s key servants in their overland stage of life. "The next assault may mar your laboriously created appearance, King Protophorous.  Have you ever sparred and jousted with a dragon?  Even your little troop of 50 or sixty is no match for either of us, let alone our union together."  Said the demon."I am trained by old Levi herself, She is like a battleship, and your mount a corvette by comparison.  If it is necessary, I will wait and watch the competition.”  I assured him.“No competition. But if you are safe I will enjoy the fray.”  He said.“Go to battle now!” I told the captain. Like a Kaleidoscope they moved in symmetry surrounding the dragon until she was the center of a sphere of riders. From the moment they set out, their tails sent out barrages of electric lightening bolts that exploded or stuck within the dragons head and backbone, then the sphere moved about the stunned and crying dragon and rider as if it were a slowly rolling ball.  As the hellion rider envelopment rotated about the dragon in space, the hellion rider company repeated the same barrages of lightening from their tails. The rider at the top added new bombardment of incandescent phosphorescent vomitus, a fresh load of vile incandescent bile as each new rider ascended the top of the rotating constellation of dracomisery. The hapless dragon settled on a defense launching her fiery blast halfway to the constellation of cool collected hellion riders. Then her fireblast fanned out and encircled her. When the blazing ovum of protection was complete the dragon intensified her radiation of nuclear energy until it shone like the sun. The orbital nebula of hellion riders had to retreat to a wider radius and stored their energy from the launch of hellion bolts and fiery drops bombardment until the dragon blast would weaken. The captain asked me for a command to destroy the dragon. With a wailing shriek the demon burst through the sun-like orb about the dragon and begged, “Oh live dead King Protophorous, spare my mount for she is trained to run on the very doors of the adversaries domain at the great day battle.” “Regroup in bodyguard formation.” I called out. Seconds later we were as we were before my attack command. The demon telepathically communicated to his steed. The sun soon went out. The underworld ceased looking like a misery ridden version of the overland. The dragon looked even more formidable than before.  Now he glowed near white and powerfully bright. His chest surged with radioactive energy. Clearly he was revitalized and strengthened by the training battle. The dragon bowed low, not so much to me as to the super company of warriors who found two different ways to destroy him. As our sparring partners departed, I asked the commander was there a quicker way to destroy the dragon than wait for it to tire and renew the rotating constellation of attack. “Yes, of course, sire. The sunstar about the dragon created a gravitational field. We could have launched a collective sustained barrage of all we had, the fire from our mouths included. But the whole underworld could have exploded into nuclear conflagration.” “We would not have survived, Captain” I observed. “Sir, we are trained to ride the wave of nuclear front blast and avoid the nuclear suction.” Said the captain of my guards.“I will have to learn, too.” I said. Now I know. My riders are invincible and my power unstoppable, and their numbers beyond any army amassed heretofore. Plus, my confidants themselves prove to be a spectacular fighting force. Chapter XVII.  I am trying to learn all their names.  The captain is Thomas.  He was put together from two brothers.  The overland m.d. scooped out one of the twin’s heads intact, not yet knowing they were twins he was murdering.  Had he known, he would have crushed that head.  Does the m.d. think he is being like the adversary’s Son?  He is prophesied to squash the offspring of the serpent dragon. Who can know what is in the mind of an overland m.d. (murder doctor)?  We are going to eat and to inspect the herdsmen riders.  Where there is food the master keeps his swarms of locusts herds. Actually, the underworld is awash in food. The tormented may not eat it. Before the master brought my body back into life, I remember wanting to eat. Even though not yet raised to tormentable age, I was denied food. My mouth was forever locked in gnashing and weeping. The throat would just not accept food, not that the adversary had made a digestive tract in the body designed for undergoing extreme torment. Food oozes forth from shafts and caves. At the beginning of the adversary’s creation there was perfect light filling every cave and crevice of the underworld and every overland spot. Even every drop of water or moisture bore with it the light of life and photosynthesis. Then food grew until the underworld was bursting with both food and the animalian life that ate it. Then came nothingness and emptiness, tohu vah bohu in the Hebrew language. Not even a degree of heat to save anything alive. As it thaws out now it shoots forth from these tubes for us to eat. The darkness over the face of the deep caused the heart of the earth to glow as the cold pressed in upon it. All animal life found its way into the heart of the underworld and froze here in chambers from which they now ooze out as food fit for roasting in the ubiquitous fire bursts about the underworld. The smell of roasting thawed meat and roasting vegetation. Fabulous vegetables beyond huge bursting with flavor and aroma even in this stinking demonic dark burning sulfurous of torments of the underworld, vegetables not now known to the overland. Meat and vegetables in abundance, it is a blessing for which we are rightly grateful to the adversary. I cannot help but mention it in the presence of my newly esteemed royal guards. Thomas asks me, “How is it that you speak well of the adversary?”Turning my roast bit of prehistory over a sulfurous fireblast, I reply, “Were you not impressed with the fire breathing blue dragon when she spun a sunstar and backed off your whole command?”The adversary’s son and even the adversary himself enjoy answering questions with questions in his Word which contains all knowledge, in English, The Bible. He took a while to reply.  “It is somewhat ennobling to have a worthy opponent, and who worthier than the adversary and His Son Jesus Christ the Righteous, the Godman, the creator of all things.” This is indeed a revelation, “Whoever in the overland prays for you, Thomas, That prayer warrior has given you a wisdom akin to my own, a keen look into the heart and mind of the adversary by the study of His Word.” I said, full of ego. Thomas replied, "My Lord the King, is that why we are different from the other riders?” “The master ordered me to study you. That is my conclusion at this point in my study.  That, and, what a fabulous group of fighters you are!  I wonder if it is in part because of direct favor or blessing from the adversary?  I wonder if the adversary is responding to your unknown overland prayer benefactors.”  I dug my scepter deeply into the low ceiling and a faucet of water began to trickle, then burst into a stream which flowed down the floor until it found a sulphur smelling fireblast hole and became steaming geyser.  When the adversary’s Spirit hovered brooding over the surface of the waters, The waters became oxygen pressurized and forced themselves into the deepest heart of the earth all about the underworld. Now it provides a cool drink.  No scepters for the tormented.  Nor is their water to drink where they are. The locust swarms are a hubbub of activity. Bees have flown straight down from the overland. They are attaching themselves to the locusts. The locusts absorb them, growing around them. and the poison stings are absorbed in their rapidly growing tails. How can so many bees exist as to coat and augment 200,000,000 locusts the size of horses. The first locust so enhanced tried his sting on one of my riders and we had to nurse him back from the bowels of insufferable pain six months in duration. During this time he tried to kill himself often even though he knew torments of the underworld would receive him into permanent torture. Once so stung “death takes a holiday!” as the commentator said. These locusts will soften and make easier for us (It would be unjust to instantly remove these to torments without giving them the opportunity to repent in the face of monstrous divine discipline for their ever abounding sin.) the death stroke we will bring to the third part of mankind. Chapter XVIII.  Now I notice it is Fathers Day already and I haven’t even composed his card yet. I will ad lib. “Oh telepathic demon messenger. I have your message for that murderous overlander dad of mine.” In the presence of a telepath my consciousness begins to liquefy and meld with the collective consciousness of all. “Please, demon, receive the message orally. I do not wish to have a breakdown in front of my Royal Guards.”  I begged.“Royal Guards? Coming up in the underworld aren’t we now?”   Said the impertinent yet mighty telepath.  I responded. “On the coattails of my minions, demon, on the coattails of my minions, just like anyone else who rises.  Here is the message:  ‘Oh, dad you fraud and sham,  you're not Jesus little lamb,  On me the door of death you slam,  into the V.C. bottle you cram  me, yes it is me you damn,  in torments, I wait for you and your ma‘am.  These things, your kids and church don‘t know.  You hide it out, and off you go,  as if you had, no sin to show.  You hide and not confide, oh no.  If it’s not true, then tell me why, don’t you a “murdered my son,” sign on your chest glue, would anybody eat with you, or hear your speech, or look at you. Happy Fathers Day poser dude, actor wannabe Christian man, Your unborn son will see you one day. We’ll share in the underworld, torment forever.’” It is shorter and less thoughtful than all my others.This card betrays my new interests in a dialogue, not monologue, to come with my Praetorians, my new inner circle. Chapter XIX.  My new guards and I sat in a group. We were at the deepest point inside Neverborn Nursery.I asked, “Captain Thomas, how is it with the parents who murdered you in your womb chamber?” “My Lord, King Protophorous, My third Mother’s Day Card so unnerved her that she delivered herself to us here in Torments of the underworld thirty days later.  For three years I have been tormenting her.  Actually, I mostly protect her from other tormentors, because, bad as she may be, she is my originator.”   said Thomas, who continued,“I was unsure which was my father, if we can be said to have one. My murdering mother gave up his name under torment. We commune now by Father's Day Card and by drunken sailor song. He was a sailor in port for the weekend. Left mom high, dry and knocked up. Not so uncommon a story. She tried to lay the blame on another sailor, a tall young submariner she latched onto. But the Navy required a paternity test. He was ready to marry her, but she rejected him when she heard of the paternity test. He flunked the paternity test. He is, I reckon, equally guilty of my murder though.  In a society given over to abortion, any unmarried sex carries with it the guilt of murder.  The real culprit is a petty officer in the Persian Gulf who trashes all her letters unopened. He has to read the fathers day cards I send him. When he drinks himself drunk daily my telepath demon messenger leaps right in his brain and keeps repeating the card until he memorizes it and sets it to music. Want to hear one of the songs, your majesty?” “Wish I could give you some music, Captain”  I said.  Thomas continued, singing,“From hells left bowel. you call to me. son I never knew. but I want nothing, to do, with you. I left you to the butcher doctor. We sent you to burn in Hell. From hell’s left bowel, you call me now. But you won’t get me soon. Not unless these mooslim devils get me first. Then we’ll burn together. You say you’ll torment me. I say I’ll torment you. And tell your lil demon buddy. To get out my head. He’s telling me to murder my mates, my friends, my self. Go away my son in hell. Demon buddy, get out my head. Barkeep get me another drink. Then we‘ll all howl from Hell‘s left bowel.” “What song did your mother sing?” I asked, to which Thomas replied in lilting tenor.“Oh little one you burdened me, yet not so much as now.  What once was small inside of me, is all that I can ever see.  I cannot love, though ne’er I could, I hear you every Mother’s day.   I can’t drive the messenger away.   He’s in my heart, repeating to me.  The sex I had, was not for lust, but to entangle, and hang onto, such a man as I did fancy, to make me seem special and pretty. The sex I had, twas not so sweet to me, as this dread messenger is bad, whom you, unloved, have sent to me.  The card you wrote, from hell’s left bowel, did you screech it, did you howl, were you quite methodical, or were you maniacal. Your messenger repeats it every way, like a mood changing actor.   I’ll see you soon, for can it be, that hell, has worse, in store, for me.”“I call it ‘The Song of the Slut.’ your majesty.” He continued. Then Thomas interjected  “Why is it we love these monsters, your majesty? Is it that they originate us, that they compel us to in some way be bad, as they themselves are bad, nay murderous?”  I was surprised to here Thomas say.  Perhaps my 50 guards are the only ones in all the underworld who can truly love, for this is the place of hatred. I responded, “With me it is different, esteemed captain, She resisted my murder at the last in the clinic, but they sedated her and went ahead.  Therefore, she was deemed a candidate for the gift of faith from the adversary.  She received sequestration and enfolding many years ago. She is even distinguished in the adversary’s ranks. The Father found a way to faith without the gift of faith. So he is an anomaly in the adversary’s ranks. He is effective for the adversary. As you may ascertain, I am unique among our brothers in more ways than one.” I confided in them all my deepest shame. The captain confessed, “It is good to see eyes, your majesty, and to see the light of life in them.” “Here here!” and “Aye aye, sir!” went up from all the guards.  Also by the light of life from my eyes I am unique. “Now men and brethren fellows of mine, though I by chance am first unborn among you all and bear the Royal investiture, if my guilty father can achieve sequestration and enfolding by a volitional act, then shall not any alive, even us perchance, turn round our fate by that same means.”  I gambled. “But what of our condemnation? We all spent time in never born nursery, growing to the full stature of one worthy of torment. Fully once condemned and educated into it, My Lord the King.”  Said a guard.  I responded, "Even murder, full and foul, the queen of all sins, Cain’s addition to our darkened race, does not seem to stop the adversary from accepting one who finds his own way to faith. Though, granted, the adversary gives not faith as a fair gift to murderers of micro children. Still, it works. I know a case. My own blood, my earthly father in fact, is so sequestered and enfolded by the enemy.” A new voice split the putrid sulphur smoke rancidity of torments of the underworld, our home. A rider spoke. He was so poorly stitched together that he looked scarred from many battles. (The womb chamber burglar, m.d. to you, is harsh in his murder. Ironically, for this murder many mothers paid dearly, dragging their sons to piano lessons so they would be deft at surgery. By the time these surgeons get down here and begin putting their destructive handiwork back together, then the vestigial rigor mortis and all from the physical body whose rotting and decaying they still feel and resemble makes their piano tutelage of little use at all.) “I am ‘Stitch’ your majesty,” said he, “How long might we live with the adversary’s son living in us and the light of the world shining round about us in this dark underworld Torments.”I replied, “I should think, Sir Stitch, that if one trusted in the adversaries son, and, all his sin were washed away, which is a big question mark in itself, considering we were once damned, then I think such a one, one who makes it into the sequestration and enfolding of our adversary, he should ride for the overland through whatsoever nearest open shaft presents itself.”“What are the ethics your majesty?”  inquired another guard, adding, "I am Mario having descended in a straight line from Mary, the mother of the adversary’s son Yeshua ha meshiach, Jesus the Messiah.” Chapter XX.  “So,” I said, ignoring his question, “the master’s gambit is to rule Earth with you on the throne, Mario, great grandson of David, Joseph and Mary. This way he fulfills the adversary’s prophecy of a seed of David ever on the throne.  Prophesy foretells one whom fallen man, even his own people, the Jews, has rejected.  One whom fallen man has tortured to death right in his own womb chamber should fit that bill just fine.  Your doctor’s name is Horowitzerothstein, not that one practitioner speaks for American Jewry.  American Jews are a mainstay of the political left and democratic party in particular and its feminist abortion promoting wing in particular, enough to earn them a share in the blame for the holocaust that finds us here in torments, Mario.   In this way the master’s poor pathetic coven of nine deluded pseudo justices not only has unwittingly brought about the divine juggernaught of the apocalypse, but also the means of your demise, murdered by an m.d. in a Roe warranted murdertorium clinic (followed by Luciferian resuscitation, common to all of us hellion riders). How can it be that the seed royal of Israel and seed royal of the very planet itself can be cast aside to an abortionists murdertorium like so much offal?  Will there never be an end to the lies the gullible overlanders will swallow from the master’s gigantic cup?  Let us categorize some of these lies:  1. It is moral and lawful to burglarize a person’s womb chamber with the intent of torturing him via dismembering or salinization.  2. It is moral to then murder the maimed and burgled victim, so ending his last few seconds of tortured life, by crushing her/his head with mass produced headsquashing implements.  3. The Word of God that holds the world together is vain.  4. There is no such thing as the prophesied ruler of both Israel and the world, much less any need to keep track of David’s line(it was neglected if not forgotten even in Jesus’ day).  5. There is no future and no hope in the adversary.  One could go on.” I said. “My Lord, King Protophorous,” Mario said, “they go further, The billion muslims and their oil gorged clients would drive Israel from their sliver of land. They wait only for the master’s coven of nine injustices to outlaw support for Israel, ruling by decisis that Israel is a religion, not a nation.” “Astute observation,” I reply, speculating further from past Bible learning and observation, “Sometimes I think the adversary relishes desperate circumstances, allowing negative factors to reach their most pathetic and dire outcomes before he steps in and turns the battle at the gates. This also allows the American coven and their cohorts to debauch themselves until the outcry to heaven from America and the world they’ve so badly led astray, until the outcry from earth to heaven reaches truly monumental proportions.” Mario surprised me, saying, “My Lord the King, The United States of America has the richest history of following the adversary. No client nation to the creator and rescuer of the world has ever attained to the U.S.A. Britain brought its law and state churches to much of the globe.  To the much of the rest of the globe Spain and Portugal brought their Catholicism with icons of Mary, Jesus and all saints; with prayer to Mary and seven sacraments.  Only America unsaddled the people from state sponsored churches through its constitution. It freed the pastorate to reach for the closest relationship to the adversary they could get. The people followed after them and the nation grew closer to the adversary than any heretofore. The apostolic charismatic gifts resumed after a 1,770 year low ebb. Just as the penultimate accomplishments are made, the springback reflex of our master launched unparalleled debauchery and morbid injustice by the which, in part, we were murdered. So, here we are, My Lord King.” I said, “Then, we see a dichotomous nation drawing near and drawing away from the adversary. The master holds three of four American estates: the government, the press and the universities. The adversary has divided hold on the ecclesiastical estate. He shares it first with the hagmaster’s covens of witches and warlocks, mediums, seers, soothsayers, palmistry readers, tarot card readers, spiritualists, necromancers, wizards, mages and magis, shamans and medicine men, psychics and fortunetellers, warlocks and ayatollahs, mullahs, oracles, devil worshippers and swamis, Satanic rock bands and new age cultists, Idol worshipping oriental priests and juju bearing Africans. He shares it also with the apostate portions of mainline church denominations.  So, in reality, what the adversary will do for the U.S.A., he must do it with Gideon’s 300. That is not as hard as folding up the universe to pre big bang level, which he shall also do.”   Mario expounded. “Let’s say, Mario, that your new throne is yours by divine appointment, that is, the one anointed by the adversary himself, that you are the adversary’s anointed to rule Israel and the world a thousand years.  That under the stellar heavenly Jerusalem in fixed orbit above Jerusalem where the adversary’s son Yeshua, Jesus, and David, Dawid, rule from the heavens, there, in Jerusalem below, you will be regent of the adversary in the flesh on the redeemed Earth. If so, how will the adversary make it happen?  How do we fit in? Chapter XXI.  The Great Day has arrived.  The adversary chose it.  He evacuated all those he had sequestered and enfolded.  Few there were that found the straight path and the narrow way.  The adversary is the winner, He has pulled his own to safety.  The remains of all who trusted in the adversaries Son burst from their graves, bound for heaven.  Their souls came down from heaven and rejoined their transformed glorified bodies in the air.  Then they met those who were lifted from the earth alive.  They were also changed and glorified.  They are so awesome, each abundantly greater than the master and his fellow demonic majesties.  After the ten day trip to heaven, those who followed the adversary all the way are receiving eternal rewards, including eternal rank and privilege far beyond that of the master. The master has scuttled his plan to check the adversaries four horsemen.  He is en route to heaven to complain in person.  Levi is disconsolate.  She was expecting to have a part in a great battle, not wait on doomed diplomacy. My herdsmen are readying the locusts for the onslaught on overland mankind.  This alone is retaliation for the burglaries and violent murders done us in our womb chambers.  I remember how our rider was an inadvertent guinea pig for these monsters.  Six months he spent trying to kill himself from the pain of their strike.  Yet the pain that entwines the hapless victim holds not only him but his or her very life also, as the commentator says, “Death takes a holiday.” The chasm that leads to Iraq fills with light from the overland and the locusts are drawn to it rising effortlessly on an updraft of thick black smoke heated by the new arrivals created by the four horsemen of the apocalypse War, Famine, Disease, and Death. Three and a half months they entered the chasm and hovered above until the time was right and the adversary launched them on the masters domains spreading agony and despondency over all the Earth. As they went up my guards/confidants and I watched them pass. Beautiful hair like a supermodel might sport flew from their heads on which were golden crowns.They had men’s faces and lion like teeth.  External body armor and wings sounding like astampede.  Scorpion like tails administered the five months of agony we witnessed not so long ago.  The beast master and all the demonic rider training corps rode out with them in disembodied form. Heliarchus, my general, will be free from demon possession for a while.  I sent out a detachment of guards to summons him.  News of all the action disturbed the army and its command.  They are well trained.  They also know their future is toasting eternally if they are killed in battle, not that disobedience would have a different result. We discussed the merits of turning coat against Lucifer.  Heliarchus was shocked, He was used to constantly sharing his inmost thought with beast master possessing him.  I  explained, “You have a six month reprieve, General, while Beastmaster rides locusts with his disembodied hordes in the overland.” “Well my lord, I can’t recall having such freedom as this,” said Heliarchus. “The range of options ever widens,” I said, “we may even place the adversary’s anointed king of the millennial civilization onto the throne in Israel.” Satan was made to wait in heaven until the marriage supper was complete. Hardship turned to craven envy and hate as each Christian he formerly harassed and impeded appeared in mightier presence than he himself. Then they received rewards of rank, insignia, privilege and finery beyond anything Lucifer had received before his fall. What is more, Satan’s former cohorts, his coequals among the elect angels now serve those he once opposed on Earth.  “Slaves!” said Lucifer “We were created to be slaves to our mere targets, humans, most of whom we so easily deluded to torments and the Lake of Fire.”Levi was fit to be tied though no one could.  She knew Lucifer had never returned with positive results from his excursions to the adversary’s headquarters.  Because they were so often joined together body and soul she felt his humiliation and growing rage. Chapter XXII.  Heliarchus, my 2nd in command, soul mate to Lucifer’s number 2 demon, was full of questions. "How can a condemned soul, a soul at one time lost to the adversary, be restored? Are you suggesting we have a choice?" I replied, "How can the adversary just write us off? We have breath. Even though we inherited uncleanness of 1 Cor. 7:14, our soul has life within these restored bodies, and where there is life, there is hope. Why do you think the adversarial counterparts of the demons are called elect. They were once as lost as the master. Then they were saved. There was a deadline and the master remained lost. Now they are confirmed: elect and fallen." Heliarchus asked, "Question:  Were we still confirmed lost when the neph shamah, the life from the adversary re-entered our bodies?" I said, "Dear Heliarchus, overland preachers say "While there is life, there is hope. The master and his cohorts call us the live dead. If we are alive, well..." I trailed off.   The fact that the adversaries sequestering spirit gave me no scripture for this left me more doubtful than ever. Heliarchus thought my "well..." was for positive emphasis and beamed in languid thought of future bliss. Heliarchus was about, perhaps, I thought, to be the firstborn of many brethren, an honor I wanted for Mario. Chapter XXIII.  Now I had to ask my Guards to assemble quickly.  I laid out what I planned.  We would put our trust in the adversary's son, together, as a unit.  Heliarchus heard this and begged leave to return to his unit.  “A little like Judas,” I thought. "Well, cohorts, what we do, we best do quickly, starting with you, Mario.  The first born among many brethren shall be their king."   A flash of light filled the underworld, and Mario shone like the sun to those above with the light of the adversaries Son!  We all then joined him with loud confessions of "Jesus my Saviour", "Yes Lord Jesus," and the like. The Neverborn nursery exploded into applause and shouts of Joy never before heard in torments.  As we yelled our affirmation and praise for the adversary's Son the neverborn burst into cheers for us and then started to praise the adversary and His Son Jesus.  As they gave welcoming praise to Jesus they Burst into radiance and shot through the Nursery ceiling and were no more to be found.  A thunderous pounding sound came closer and closer louder and louder as all the dragons of the underworld approached the Neverborn Nursery cavern. The mounts were skittish and rightly so for the light of God's spirit had blinded all the underworld denizens, including our Hellions.  I could tell our new leader would not act and begged his permission to lead the troop.  By his leave I told the captain to marshall the troop for an escape up the bee shaft. King Mario stood beside me.  We left at the rear of the troop up, up and up the shaft toward the light that shone down ever brighter and brighter. We could hear the dragons wings pounding as they entered the shaft.  I asked the King to head the formation and send back the Captain with me.  Machairoscullum let fly her fiery electric darts.  Then the smoke she blasted left the cavern behind us in deadly black nerve and mustard gasses.  The flames she shot behind us intensified the noxious gas into an explosion and we fairly shot up ballistically as bullets up the shaft.  I knew our hellions were no match for these gigantic dragons.  In a flash a furious fleeing dragon was abreast of us. Machairosculum's unique teeth clamped on it's neck and injected the hapless dragon with smoke and fire while filling it with electrodarts from her tail.  The captain of the guard covered our war with all the blast of fire, gas and tail darts that his mighty hellion could send.  Meanwhile the demon rider astride the dying fleeing dragon tried to enter my own consciousness and press out my life from my brain through my body.  I called for our old nemesis, the blood of the lamb of God that washes away our sins, as I shouted, “The blood of Jesus is against you“, the Draco-demon duo broke away and fled back down the shaft. The Captain of my guards and I evaluated the situation in an instant and knew we must mount a rear guard holding action for King Mario and his guards.  They were practically out of sight towards the light of the overland now.  “Let’s joust!”  I shouted,  “Yes, My liege!”  and we were off, hellions spitting fire and nerve gas, electro darts eliciting cries of agony from barbequing, blinded astonished dragons.   We hurtled blindly, faster and deeper, through the most formidable squadron of dragons ever assembled.   As demonic personages left their mounts to assault our psyches we shouted, “The Blood of Jesus is against you!”  The hordes were sent back, but not their mounts who still felt us with their many senses, having pinpointed us when we were wrestling in the spirit with their demon riders.  We were surrounded by an insurmountable force.  But we had given our new King and his guards the time he needed. Before the dragons could strike, they began bursting into incandescence.  Then I saw the darts.  They were Heliarchus’ hellion’s darts and a trillion more from the whole two hundred million strong corps of live dead riders and their hellions!  The Captain and I joined in as the dragons tried to escape upwards.  Ideally we could wreck them now and not chase the still formidable squadron on top of King Mario.  Too late.  Mario came leading his guards straight down to our rescue, raining fire gas and darts onthe hapless dragons!  Instead of engaging the hellion corps in battle, the mystic priestly dragon took command and they darted after her down a side flue down through which we might have pursued them. That was not my goal. Heliarchus came to King Mario and I with the self evident news that he had evangelized the army and they were as one under me. I told him, “No, not under me, but under our new King Mario who is descended in an unbroken chain from Mary and Joseph.”  Heliarchus and I bowed and pledged our fealty to the death, which death we were now no longer. “Command my host, Protophorous!”  said Mario “Up men! Rise to the overland!”   I shouted, and ordered  “Heliarchus, marshall the troops.”   We all burst forth into the nighttime Iraqi sky which to us was as brilliant a light as ever we had seen or could ever be.  Thankfully we had not come at daybreak.  Machairosculum detected what may well have been radar and the radons of approaching antiaircraft missiles and the locking on of projectile ballistic antiaircraft artillery. “Defend! Use your defenses!” I called out. The Electric incandescent tail darts sailed and took out all aircraft and missiles and all radar in the 150 mile radius. The second wave of defense was a daisies and roses pattern of flight that overshadowed half the middle East enshrouding it with the nerve gaseous smoke that our hellions exude. As the dawn rose in the distance the eyes were set ablaze even through protective smoke set overhead. Heliarchus flew over and we flew together.“Heliarchus, tell me about Levi!” I asked.“Never fear.”  said Heliarchus.“She was my greatest fear and still is.”  I counteredShe tried to give chase, my Lord, but she is to big for the shaft. She took off through another shaft to go to the adversary’s to report the treachery, she calls it.” “She has been very worried about our old master no more our master. We’ll be seeing them together before long.” I replied, and continued,“Now, Let’s get to King Mario for orders.” Chapter XXIV.  King Mario and the rest of us were quite a sight in the cloudy light.  Now every stitch and cauterization and dracolaser planing cosmetic surgery: it was all too evident now.  Still, good to be alive, no thanks to our murdering mothers and fathers and relatives. The King's orders were plain.  Listen for the adversary’s spirit, put yourself at the disposal of any of the Lord's 144,000 immortals who bear the seal of the Lamb of God in their foreheads.  Destroy whoever has the seal of the beast, and his number 666, which seemed to be all of remaining humanity. King Mario told us to have courage and roam the Earth in search of 666er Satanists to destroy and the Lamb’s holdouts to protect. As we began to fan out over the length and breadth of this beautiful brilliant alive overland Earth, Levi appeared,  the squadrons of Satan’s pur suivants in tow.  I steered Machairosculum to Levi’s back and dismounted onto her red glowing Ruby bejeweled back.  Ashen faced, my old master asked me why I did not accept his kingdom over the new Earth.  I said, “Now I am righteous by faith in Jesus as are these and all the never born from the nursery. Is that not taking care of my charges.”  “you are my charge and they are my charges and all that you see are mine!” Satan lied. Then he drew his fingers into a pinching motion and I felt once more the abortionists specially designed intrauterine skull crushing pliers putting pressure on my skull just as it had been squashed before I went to torments of the underworld. I remembered the Vacuum Curette’s sharpened blades gouging off my limbs and the mind racking pain as the abortionist sent me to torments of the underworld. I thought my head would burst and shouted, “the blood of the lord Jesus wash away my sins.” Then Satan screamed in fury, and I was released as Levi howled in pain as her back burst into flames. I leapt from dear old Levi. Machairosculum had been circling lazily.  Now she sped and caught me astride her and I steered away from Levi and Satan who both sought a chasm to descend into. She was just to large and the Sun’s radiation was too much for her. Chapter  XXV.  The troops directed me Southwest across the Arabian Desert. Soon, I came to to the Mountainous country of Israel.  As I flew over I saw our troops engaging 666 forces of Satan bearing their crescent moon emblems. Sometimes they were aiding the elect, sometimes fighting under command of the 144,000 -unkillable supermen of Zion bearing the glowing Cross of Jesus on their foreheads while fighting under the star of David banner. We lit down on the temple mount. Thousands were singing an unknown song in a brand new tongue as they surrounded our King Mario in a protective formation. Each of the 144,000 was carrying a variety of weaponry while surrounded by even more. Yet the song they sang was beautiful and the musicians gave forth spontaneous melodies and rhythm as if directed by the author of music itself. With each new line or bar of music and song a general staff issued orders and our Hellions would pick up a few supermen and proceed to some distant campaign or hot spot to tip the scales away from my old master in favor of the Lord Jesus Christ. I knew we would take out a third part of mankind, and still the antichrist would get a gigantic army to face the forces of God at the valley of Megiddo. Apparently they were waiting for us. Five Supermen were riding tandem with my five abortions on fast hellions. They ushered me through the defenses to King Mario. I told what I knew after dismounting and taking a knee. “Your Majesty, the greater dragons have abandoned the fray.  The sun’s radiation is too much for their size and their inherent radiation, we should control the sky.”  I reported to thousand year Jerusalem King Mario“You met with our old master, Protophorous,”“Yes, he tried to kill me before old Levi burst into a flaming meltdown. He can kill with his mind.”  I confirmed. Mario the thousand year King said: “Now, we are going to put him away into the abyss from which he emerged.  We’ll see a Satan free world for a thousand years.  You and I, Protophorous, and these our brother abortions will be the progenitors of the new age.  The thousand year millennium is ours.  The twelfth Imam, he converted most of the Earth to rejection of the Mashiach, Yeshua. Now comes the battle when Yeshua sweeps away all but the small remnant who trusted in Adonai Yashua Mashiach.  We ourselves overpopulate them all by a large multiple.There are wives enough for our number. Some of our brethren are seeking them out and evangelizing them now. Their fathers are the soldiers being swept away by our forces, and those to be swept away by Adonai at Megiddo.” He stopped his prophecy to listen to the superman general officer, star of David arm patched, glowing cross integral to his forehead.  “The King of the West is moving closer to Megiddo. His forces are protected by a nuclear shield of tactical nuclear weapons that can take out even our hellions. The King of Glory will dispatch them while we wait. The King of the North is in place. The kings of the East have scouts on the field. We have driven the Imam’s ragtag forces to the plain of Jezreel already.  It will soon be over.  Adonai Yeshua and his hosts of church age saints are on steeds waiting for the demons to take the field.  To fall upon them from the third heaven is an instantaneous maneuver.”   King Mario gave me the briefing of all briefings.“A wife!  A progeny!  A thousand year life outlasting fifteen to one our murdering parents! It’s too much.”   I exclaimed joyously.  “Yet it is to be.  Even your hellions are provided for.  Unicorns mate with hellions, and the herd of unicorns in paradise has grown to your number:  two hundred million. They are on their way to Megiddo now to join the fray.  The resultant strain of beast will be more domestic; weapons free, and better adapted to the overland environment”   Thousand year Jerusalem King Mario assured me. “How may I help?” “My Lord,” said Mario. “You are the architect of all that we riders are accomplishing here.  Further, you brought me to my 1,000 year kingdom when Satan was sure I would be but a farcical sham to belittle God.  Then you took on the Devil himself on the back of Leviathon, the rebel of old, and sent them down in flaming retreat.  You can help plan the rescue and return of all the children of Israel back here to the land of promise.  The actual battle of Armageddon is out of our hands.” Chapter XXVI.  I gave my guards each the mark of authority to gain the assistance of any Hellion Rider anywhere.  Then I dispersed them to find the rescued God-fearing Jews and bring them home to Israel.  Our forces had been wiping out the Satanic Hindus amidst their murdering their undercaste non666 slaves in part because they sheltered God-fearing Jews.  After our rider forces rescue the undercaste holdouts, my officers will bring the Jewish survivors to their thousand year future home.  We rescued tribes, peoples and sects who did it for the least of these my brethren, protecting the Godfearing Jews in the twelfth Imam’s Muslim homelands.  Now my guards will bring those Jews home. The Buddhists and communists alike were annihilated as they were killing their God-fearing Christians and Jews.  My officers went to bring those God-fearing Jews home.A full third of mankind gave their lives fighting my Hellions in their anti-Semitic frenzy to kill the world’s God fearing Jews and newly born again Christians. Easy to spot with their 666 emblem glowing, they made easy targets for hellion and rider who treated them just as they treated the lost in torments of the underworld.  The underworld lost could survive a lot of torment before they disintegrated and returned for more torment.  These more easily released their lives, never to return outside torments of the underworld.  As they busied themselves hunting for the dispersed, I returned to Jerusalem so as not to miss the battle of Jezreel Valley now shaping up. From our sky-bourn vantage point we could see it all. My mount was admired by a mounted angelic majesty who traded his magnificent winged chariot of gold for my Machairosculum.  “It’s to be the Lord Jesus Christ’s own mount.”  Machairosculum looked resplendent in white iridescent glory and even more majestic with a beautiful androgynous angelic majesty astride. The 144,000 supermen arrayed at the Southeast end of the valley atop a hellion they rode tandem with the dashing yet grotesquely patched together hellion rider.  Hundreds of millions of my former master’s Earthly warriors emblazoned with 666 heraldry streamed through the valley from the West and North.  As they reached our Heroes’ line of battle the demonic Overlords arrived surrounding the Imam’s battle tank which bears the great seal of the President of the United States.  Bleak appeared the outcome of this spectacle. XXVII. The Lord Himself appeared to the North of our forces descending as our mounts received supernatural commands and my men were lifted off the mounts now ridden by the 144,000 alone rising to meet a superlative sight.  They joined up behind the Lord who was himself surrounded by the entire church age’s number of redeemed souls outnumbering the devil and the Imam’s combined forces and out gunning them in obvious majestic power.  The devil let the Imam’s forces attack first as pawnlike canon fodder. The Lord said “Weapons!” and mighty blades of laser light sprang from his breath, spun and danced about him.  “Engage!” sent the light ray swords dividing all the armour, men and weaponry, all the explosives and fuel blasting apart the particles, leaving only charred rivers of the blood of the lost six six sixers.  Lazerlight rays spinning whirling reaped in a radial wave like an evergrowing rainbow until reaching the foot soldiers their blood became a deep liquefied river of the blood of the lost racing through the now smoldering valley.    Now the majestic Saints of the church, at infinitely greater speed, that of thought, took out the  demonic forces, locking them in the abyss.  Finally an ordinary angel strode to my old  master and cuffed him and locked him back in torments with a thousand year chain. Odd how the career soldier is lucky to see 13 minutes of combat.  This was faster.  The only thing lacking was a splendid setting for the Lord, His Church age saints, and the angels of all ranks and grades. Suddenly a laser light show of all golden shades illuminated the Valley of Jezreel and surrounding mountains.  Looking up we saw a brilliant Golden gleaming transparent city with 75,000 levels intricately laced with resplendent gold.  It stopped it’s descent miles from Earth.  Now we saw The Lord at the peak level and the apostles and giants of the church at the top and believers populating all lower levels in various shades of glory.  The angelic majesty brought back Machairosculum, now a possession beyond priceless, the very mount of God, and, he took back the golden chariot.   As we all rose of the Hellions own Lord-directed will a crystal bell extended from the Holy City and surrounded the planet radiating the Lord’s own light about the whole earth. It had only covered a few thousand miles of Earth when we felt the moist humid pressure of the antediluvian civilization once again rejuvenating the Earth now cleansed of unbelievers, of all who bore the 666. We entered at a wall of Jewels and Gold through the pearl from the giant oysters of the Marianas.  All Two hundred million of us snaked through the many levels for weeks receiving cheers from majesties by far superior to the greatest dragons and demonic personages we were used to. Mario rode in front, with his inner council of Israeli courtiers.  We followed, myself,  Heliarchus, Thomas, and my generals which I had placed at Israel’s King Mario’s disposal.  I supposed we might be placed permanently at Mario’s disposal at the grand coronation ahead.  We made a six week long procession through every street on seventy five thousand levels.  Midway along, I met my own murdering mother and father in glory.  None of our number could claim that:  both murdering parents in glory. Finally the light became warm and inviting, and life appeared to pulse through every usually inanimate thing.  The arching gateway had two gigantic angels covered with sets of wings.  They guarded a chamber of unimaginable bright light.  Mario and his pur suivants were ushered in.  Then, the rest of our number were seated in the brilliant amphitheater. Mary, Joseph, David and Elijah carried a crown and its long attached train and placed it on Mario’s head.  We and all heaven cheered as did all Earth below. Now all of my riders were made kings over gentile fiefdoms.  Finally, I, myself, was made to them a high king responsible for managing tribute payments to King Mario.   Brides were found for all of us gruesome aborted sights.  They were the miraculously preserved widows and daughters of faith hidden away by their decimated 666 husbands and fathers. We weren’t allowed to have our weddings and receptions in the millennial Jerusalem.  The sound of that joy was reserved for millennial Earth to resound.  A chosen bride, the high queen, was presented to King Mario. Upon our return we prepared for a celebration. Practically no one was left, just us, and our brides.  All the rest followed the Imam, whose name meant one who fell as lightning from above the clouds of heaven, who led them into 666 murdering sprees. These destroyed failures were desensitized by years of eugenic and recreational abortion murders, and murderous persecution sprees in Nigeria, Iraq, Kenya, Sudan, Rwanda and Uganda and Burma. My 200,000,0000 gentile riders, The 144,000 Jewish supermen and brides for all of us.  Most of our brides played instruments.  Soon all could sing vibrant praise songs.  The celebration would be full of great music. But what of Israel?  Who would populate it? Then we all saw the peculiar sight.  Up from the ground came bones and soil forming muscle and skin on long dead bones.  Faithful Jews and gentiles, who resisted the Imam and his 666 mark, returning to their bodies.  Now the seed population for the post apocalyptic millennial civilization was in place. Chapter  XXVIII.  Our riders and their hellions scoured the overland.   Perhaps we should call it the underland, having been to the new Jerusalem, New Jerusalem having come down from heaven to hover over Earth. There we were decorated by the Lord Jesus Christ himself.  The underland and overland, our new home and domain, was full of produce for the celebration feast.  The Earth, now an oxygen pressure chamber, was quickly yielding a mountain of harvestable food.  Our hellions were slowing under the weight of the food and drink and the utensils we carried to Jerusalem. Angelic creation were bringing great upside down parachute like containers full of re-creation.   Every supposedly extinct creature was re-spoken into existence by the Lord Jesus Christ and returned to Earth.  Dodos and sabreteeth and Apatosaurus, big and small, land, sea, air and underground and some residing in  two, three or all four earth environments, some fully grown, some must grow. The seas had retreated to make up the ice crystalline atmospheric surround, the canopy that diffused and de-irradiated the sun’s rays.  Other of the oceans returned to their caverns that held them prior to the Noahic flood.  Arable land doubled. The shalom of Mario, a prosperity peace, fell over all of us and everything. The ice caps were melting and re-establishing a bit of the oceans and seas.  Meanwhile, gently the earth pivoted its rotation so the pole was now Jerusalem below, the Lord and His bride’s heavenly Jerusalem above.  The pole now faced the Sun so the half the Earth with Jerusalem was always brighter while comparatively darker was the opposite containing much of the Pacific Ocean, lit only by the diffusion of light around the shining crystalline bulb with the Golden city of God at the top and a narrowing point developing at the bottom, a green and gold central ornament of the universe.  Rather than rotating, the millennial earth gently rocked, so there was no true night, just evening and morning, day one, and evening and morning, day two. It wasn’t long enough until the beauteous peace was broken.  Decorated and promoted, but not perfected, my horde began to show their Adamic nature through their disciplined military and now Christian nature.  The Lord communed with me how to set up the courts I would soon need. The celebration brought the now glorified Christian saints among us in their splendor dancing and singing and praising God, even prophesying Mario’s and my own fabulous thousand year exploits and the progeny that will populate a perfect planet.  They told of pilgrimages and wealth untold I would bring to the New Jerusalem, of jousting contests and military exercises, of growth in population to a quintillion souls from the two hundred million riders and their brides we are starting out with. Chapter XXIX.  Stages, halls and tents were going up throughout the war and earthquake damaged city of Jerusalem.  Jerusalem is now a seaport city connecting the Mediterranean with the Red Sea.  We are terracing the city down to the new, even lower, sea level. The violence of tribulation judgment against the Satanic 666 abortion crazed overlanders had changed much of the earth’s topography.  Greenland and the Hudson Bay; Alaska, Siberia and Japan; the Philippines, Malaysia and Borneo; Madagascar and Zimbabwe:  these together with the Atlantic and South Indian Oceans are the border of the new solar, Israel centered hemisphere. Revolutionary as it is, it need only last a thousand years before these redeemed heavens and Earth will be completely replaced by the eternal state with a new heaven and Earth.  Just a thousand more years until God folds it all up and incinerates it to make the fiery lake that is my old master and his followers’ forever future. Now, as we ready the greatest party ever in honor of Davidic Messiah Mario, Grand nephew of the Lord, the near heavens above us contort and split away from the celestial Jerusalem.   The heavenly Jerusalem re-ascended to its heavenly home with the new heavens and the new Earth.  The blue green canopy filled the gap seamlessly.  At least we millennials now had a clue as to the splendor of the coming eternal state. Among the brides found for my horde there were many an accomplished musician who could be heard practicing all about the Holy city.  Others were great chefs and hostesses readying hall after hall for the new millennium extravaganza. The Lord, Mario and I were pleased that the new millennium gentile world will be populated exclusively by reconstituted abortion led families.  We hope the roots of the new civilization will create a strong heritage opposing unmarried sexuality and the infanticide of abortion it inspired. Chapter XXX.  We had plenty of resources to prepare the celebration.  I set the remainder of our hellion riders (Earthly Kings, really, and patriarchal progenitors of the new Earthly population) to work on building the Holy City. Hellions bore loads like Elephants.  From their tales they shot arc welding electrodes that welded together the girders that were flash cast by other fire breathing hellions.  We Devised etchers, platinum plates we place over  all the flat surfaced building materials with stencil holes cut out in Hebrew and for artistic bordering, etchers that covered the whole of scripture including the newly written tributes to the tribulation and church age heroes. Hellions would blast fire over the etchers, gold dust is sprinkled over and a new blast melts the gold to the etching.  Thus the new etching process resulted in a gold inlaid but more importantly Scripture permeated holy city.  Perhaps as important we took these methods to our new homes on both the lightened and darkened sides of the earth.  The roads we built by laying down gravel and sands beds and firing them to molten heat with hellion blasts.  Beautiful glass streets, etched with gold scripture and Bible art for traction, gleaming marble walls etched with gold: the Holy city  is truly a sight to behold. A platoon of the 144,000 Supermen of the Holy Seal escorted Mario the thousand year live yet aborted dead King Of Israel, Judah, Samaria and Holy Jerusalem into my presence.  The smell of fresh pure air of the overland compared to the stench of putrefaction in torments of the underworld, it by itself more than compensates for my demotion in rank below the adversary’s anointed King Mario. “The Lord gave your workmen and animals artistic skill and craftsmanship we will enjoy a thousand years here in Jerusalem.” said Mario.“I will see it every harvest season when I bring you the opulence from the lower parts of the globe, Sire.”   I replied.“It is odd that the true divine utopia is so much like slavery.”  Said Mario.  Then he added, “I think I feel guilty.”“The tributary relationship between Zion and the subservient world, it defines the new age and the joy the world feels in the Lord, Whose anointed you are.”  I countered. “As the ten tribes of Israel cast off the yoke Solomon placed on them, So shall the world strike at Jerusalem after the thousand years.” prophesied the King of the thousand year Jerusalem.“They will do so over the dead bodies of my riders and I, and all our hellions.” I vowed.“Touching as that is.” replied my aborted liege, sovereign over all living on planet Earth.“That is likely the way it will be a thousand years hence when our old master is turned loose.” said the thousand year King of greater Israel. I responded in idle thought aloud, “I suppose you can’t blame the Devil for wanting to have at what old coots we will be by then, especially since he reconstituted us, raised us and educated us and trained our hands for combat.  Remember, your majesty, how we learned from Julius and Augustus Caesar; from Alexander and Philip; Saladin and Mohammed; Aristotle, Socrates and Cicero; Darwin and Jezebel.  We abortions learned from Satan’s stable of victims the truth of history and the principles of the Devil’s world.  He made us memorize also God’s Word from Genesis to Revelation. It is like a loving (ha ha) parent providing all for his children who then rebel against him.”“It may be the same for you with the nations your riders will father.” Mario offered. Chapter XXXI.  The worship was fabulous.  We heard long splendid lectures about the sanctity of all life, both human and animal, in its utero stage and in its aged stage.  I loved the readings from the first, second old testaments and new third testament. Since the apostle Paul no one had seen the Lord our God Jesus Christ in Glory.  Now we have a new way to worship Him.  We re-enact in a memorialized way the willing sacrifice of Christ. First, the priest asks us to confess our sins toward his upraised arms.  Then He places his hands on a sacrificial creature.  Then the creature, trained though he may be, voluntarily lays upon the altar, is fastened on the four points and sacrificed.  The collected blood of the sacrifice is sprinkled on us all.  A pilgrimage to Jerusalem is required of all living to display their salvation in this way.  It was an easy pilgrimage this year, since all living are here, about Jerusalem.  After the sacrifices were over and all were sprinkled, the prayer of consecration led the way to the planned festivities, a party to end all parties.  My riders and I had never known parties and joy.  Our brides, mostly Asiatic and brought from the four corners of the globe, for them it was their wedding reception and a mass wedding ceremony and time of marital consummation followed in a new sort of festival of the booths.  For forty days the beginnings of the new firstborn of the nations were conceived in a joyous revelry in the Lord.  The tents of the riders are the place of lodging for their progeny nations who would make a pilgrimage here. We made our farewells with tears of joy and hopeful expectation.  Our hellions darkened the sky above Jerusalem.  Then in an instant we were gone.  Each of us would peal off the formation where God told us to settle.  Heliarchus, Thomas and I would not settle.  Our Hellions would police the planet and collect its increase to return to Jerusalem’s King Mario. Not surprisingly over the centuries to follow rebellions would be led by jealous and ambitious populations against their patriarch rider king.  Some, I must confess, were incapable of command.  Others just bred a headstrong progeny after them.   There never was an issue about the amount offered to Jerusalem.  It was always free will.  The live dead kings did compete on how well they could motivate their progeny. Chapter XXXII.  After 435 millennial years my bride Patricia quit bearing sons and daughters.  Heliarchus’ bride bore until 509 m.  Thomas the twin’s bride bore until 567 m.   Between the three of us our grown children and their grown progeny now numbered nearly a billion souls, none of whom bore the abortion scars we did. The whole earth bore a quintillion souls by the 1,000th millennial year when Satan our old nemesis was released from the abyss.  By 1016 Satan had turned the population from fabulous prosperity to jealous comparison of one’s lot with another’s and one nation’s lot with another’s.  Indolence followed, then want.  Then came resentment over the obligatory pilgrimage to Jerusalem to Worship the Lord with the Jews every year.  Soon I found nothing to collect except a jealous hatred for Israel and old King Mario they felt they had enriched by tribute offerings nigh on a thousand years.  Soon Satan tuned their progeny against their sires, we who are the rider kings. Rather than snuff out our very own progeny, we all regrouped at Jerusalem to take them on as a nameless mass of humanity so depersonalizing this slaughter of the novice warriors marshaled against us.  Most of my rider kings were back at Jerusalem to defend the sacred city against Satan and the 200,000,000 nations deploying against her a quintillion strong.  We gathered up our hellions to kill what we could. King Mario encouraged us in the Lord telling us all to have faith and see God’s deliverance.  Feeling like the Titans of Greek mythology we readied to engage our progeny in battle.  Anything was better than going back to torments of the underworld or, worse, consigned to the Lake of Fire following the universal conflagration.  That is where we are about to send these wrongdoers who took perfect environment and perverted it into following Satan, my old master, the enemy of God.  Two hundred million mounted hellions against a myriad of devils on giant dragons, an army of telepathic demons who can kill with their depraved minds and a quintillion populace fully mobilized-the harvest of a thousand years of civilization who also condemn our parenting skills, we riders from hell, a quintillion fostered by us products of the abortion clinics of the old pre-redemption world. We split into thirds and would focus on the dragons trying to get them to use their nuclear sun protection defense that will incinerate and blow up their human followers.  Mario and I set up a spy network that feeds us the dragons’ locations.  We waited for them to report low altitude dragon formation before we attack.  Only the four of us know the plan to keep it from the telepathic demon corps of the hagmaster.  Mario, Heliarchus, Thomas and myself would have the oversight, each commanding a million fifty-strong companies of riders each of which would take on a mounted dragon demon team. For now all sorts of worship services had been set up because of the prophetic nearness of the end of time and the dawning for us of eternity.  This was normal for Israel whose occupation has been to pray and praise God these thousand years. Unfortunately it appeared to be the falling of a black night of despair for the rest of the nations, our progeny at that.  Now we observed fruition of the words of Christ: broad is the gate and wide the path that leads to destruction and many are those who find it.For the past eight years they had chanted how despotic is King Mario and all the rider kings. In a fickle moment the chivalrous population who lived a millenium in prosperity, who had pride in their noble aborted rider live dead kings, how easily they are turned from worshipping their God to worshipping Satan and from following us to following a host of demons. Their music went from romantic to degrading.  Their marital vows were abandoned and free sex espoused.  The institutions and associations that had built prosperity were abandoned for new ways.  The currency was debauched.  A new rich class began to assume the royal station once the domain of the hellion rider.  Soon a few murders convinced the rest of the population to capitulate to Satan’s men.  We rider’s made for Jerusalem instead of decimating our populations with civil war.  Famine and the out of control riot of a people who’ve forsaken the God they formerly loved, these factors helped Satan muster them all to converge upon Jerusalem.   Most of them finally in this twisted murderous spree of demonic anti-Semitic frenzy were making their first pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Rather than waste them all easily we hoped to bring them back under control after we destroy the dragons hitherto immortal and their demonic masters.   Thomas awoke me from my reverie.“Now! Now! Now!  They are coming down for an attack!”  Thomas sounded alarmed.“Or a reconnaissance, or a parley, if I remember my old master well.  He is not one you soon forget.” I replied.“If we are going to station our hellions above them, now is the time!” an ebullient Heliarchus exclaimed. Mario was wearing thick gold fabric, an art perfected by the 666 alliance the Lord terminated a millennium ago.  It was originally to fabricate silver fabric carpets and tents to generate the solar electric energy used in that bygone era.  The technology was kept and used to make golden splendor for the live dead thousand year King Mario, son of David, Son of Joseph and Mary, now flying above Jerusalem with his million 50 rider teams and the 144,000 sealed of God riding tandem. We would not be first to enter this fray, but we hurried to rally our men and beasts.  Up went Heliarchus, the unborn to command commander of troops. Next Thomas, and his horde, in a spiraling brilliant ascent. Now mine were up in the air, the dense pressurized air of the Ice encapsulated greenhouse earth, the pearl of God’s universe now coming to its end, both the pearl and its surroundings.  I did not want to go up.  I knew I must go.  But thoughts and remembrance clouded my head and held me in place a moment as I saw in retrospect a paternal kingly father among my personal images of Satan and a maternal Leviathan dragon his alter ego, the years of surgeries in the foul hot pressurized rank underworld, the endless discussions with famous minds of history now lost forever for rejecting God.  Generals of lore and more cavalry and Luftwaffe and air forces commanders than there were at that time alive overland completed my education and went back into their caverns of ceaseless fiery tearing torment.  Now it all would come to fruition in the skies above greater Israel.  Finally I wrested myself free.  “Get up above them.”   I remembered of aerial combat education and training under teachers like Herman Goering. As the other three generals headed up and towards the incoming Draconian horde I took my fighters straight up over Jerusalem, and, once there, burrowed into the mirror ice pack surrounding the Earth atmosphere.  We were witnessing the Battle Royal below.  Yet, we were invisible to all the combatants.  The dragons were fighting to intertwine their trajectories so as to prohibit our death constellations from forming around them.  Now their flight patterns proved to be preplanned as they met at both ends of the sky in walls that began to close in on our Hellions who had to retreat before a wall of hottest fire.  My second in command, Scar, asked what I planned. “Take your half of our hellion riders in a line and fold down the right wall while my half folds down the left, but we will begin our descent only when the Devil can nearly taste his victory.  Drive a phalanx through them so they form a circle fanning out from Jerusalem that sets us all down on top of their human hordes so we can finish the job. I was amazed how this was looking to turn out.  The fire from heaven prophesied three millennia ago would be my hellions falling upon Satan’s dragon horde as they tried to crush those of the thousand year live dead king of Jerusalem and greater Israel.  So the aborted, the castoff, Satan brooded over, hell raised to torment and fight for the devil;   these, they would help end, by fighting for God, the middle two of the four civilizations of man: pre-deluge, pre-millennial, pre-eternal and eternal state.  I told my captains to pass this on to our riders encouraging them to hold nothing back for this ride will end in eternity. I let Stitch lead his troops down first. I noted Leviathon was in an observatory capacity.  I took a two hundred strong team pretrained to engage her and split off from our force now in charge of my trusted third in command, urging him to earn a good report in eternity.As my men took their places in a constellation around Leviathan my mount, Machairosculum, lit down on the red glowing dragon’s red bejeweled back. Satan and I walked in the brilliant red light together.“ How did I not know your plans Protophorous my son?” he earnestly inquired.It seemed to me great Leviathon could push the battle against us by herself.  I was happy that Satan chose to parlay rather than join the fray.  He was behaving as the Prince of Persia before Alexander, which suited me well, and was as I hoped.  “Our classes and seminars with Goehring and the great ones they flooded my consciousness when I heard of your attack.  As you know from our knowledge of my Lord your adversary’s word, the answer God gives when you come before tyrants and despots will be given you that same hour.  So I am not sure your classes get all the credit.  God’s spirit within me likely brought it to mind.”  I replied. “Protophorous, will you not for eternity surmise how different it might have been had you not been my spoiler, but, instead, my champion.”  asked the Devil.I replied, “You see me as a winner, yet these you are watching fire from heaven destroy, these are my progeny, and my riders’ children, and great great great grandchildren.  I see myself as a grand failure because of it.  We enjoyed the millennial peace and freedom as contented cattle, waiting for you to spoil our minds.” As Satan and I looked on, fire and smoke and thunder and lightning crashed outward from Jerusalem devouring trillions and quadrillions of the millennial human race.  King Mario and Heliarchus and Thomas had pulled a corps away from the fight.  They were on their way toward us when Jerusalem itself, that is a paper thin carpet of land below it, lifted into the sky away from the earth and vanished.  The Earth folded in on itself after the last humans on the ground were licked up by the flaming inferno.  The cleansed Earth imploded in on itself and the ice bubble around the earth followed.  We, Satan, Leviathan and  a hundred million of us remaining riders watched as the universe itself imploded inward upon itself.  Matter and space and time disappeared into a flaming smoking and sulfurous stinking inferno. The very capacity for speech seemed sucked out of us when Satan finally spoke.  “If any of me lives on in glory, it is through you riders who thrice snatched eternal victory from the Jaws of doom.” The deceiver’s last deception demanded a reply which I duly gave, “If we live, we live as those whose abortions you instigated, foul father of none of our God granted salvation.  We live as Jesus the Messiah’s children, for truly we riders are children of no other.”  Last to join the implosion Satan himself was sucked into the lake of fiery misery, once our universe. Chapter XXXIII.  For a moment we were in a vacuum.  Too often had we been in God’s hands alone to fear this special moment alone with Him. Then there appeared a brilliant gleaming white throne marked in gold with Greek symbols for the letters A and Z.  On the throne sat a brilliant shining figure, Jesus.  On the arms of the throne, there were scrolls containing all the deeds of the lost dead about to be judged.  From the flaming inferno came the sight not seen by us a thousand years.  The bodies of the dead resurrected in a new design, designed to suffer.  They appeared one by one in a great void to one side of the throne. As each appeared before God the scroll opened and played back their life.  The first to appear promoted another God on screen and, whoosh, he was in the lake of fire.  Millions more appeared, one after the other, gone to the lake of fire.  Then the drug pushers, then sex cultists, liars, thieves, murderers, etcetera. I knew I had been guilty of some of these myself, and Jesus spoke to me.  “Whoever came to me and put their trust in me are washed in my blood and purified and they are not subject to this resurrection to condemnation.  You will receive the first resurrection.”   We began to dematerialize and re-appear in a new shining form similar to the Lord.  Those lost in the final fight appeared with us.  I looked at scar and he was perfect and I knew our abortion scars were gone forever, and, even more important, the sinful temptations the fruition of which I just referred to had vanished away and my conscience was now an instant recognition of the Lord’s will, and there was no resistance in me to His will.  The old universe, now balled up in the lake of fire, fled away from the Lord and we witnessed the appearance of heaven come into view as if it had been hidden by the presence of the transitory universe even though folded in to the lake of fire.  (Had only the theorists of a bouncing undulating universe expanding and contracting read the Bible, or, even, debated someone who did, their adhesion to their theory might have saved them.) What we saw was each other perfect, as if unaborted, in a sea of perfect people along a giant river with twelve gigantic trees six on each side, each dwarfing any skyscraper, with delicious fruit hanging low too abundant to consume.  The river flowed from under and from both sides of the golden base of the throne.  The river spread out and went around the pyramidal mountain we were atop.  The Lord commanded, and all our beasts swam away in the river to pastures prepared for them.  They also had been transformed, and, I knew Machairosculum the Heavensteed was hellion no more.  The Adamic failure that plagued me was forever gone.  Newly enobled like never before, we spontaneously pledged our everything to our creator.  Jesus in turn revealed to us the productive future awaiting us forever.  Not a thought of regret or of sadness entered any of our hearts as the memory of those being tormented day and night forever in the lake of fire fled forever away into the excellence of our heavenly future now being realized. The end of the birthing, birthing of true life, God’s ever intended life, the life we all groaned within ourselves waiting for, life God Himself waited patiently for to be birthed.I claim it as our birthday. Epilogue The universe, the time space matter continuum, is complete.  From my new vantage point in eternity I may observe and enjoy all of it, except for one part, or, should I say, parts.  Near as I can describe it to an  inhabitant thereof would be a balloon or a dirigible contained by transparent nothing and subject to inspection from within and without by eternals.  At its conclusion it comes to a point very much like where a balloon might be tied.  The tie is the roiling, boiling reactor of the lake of fire where the lost burn.When we observe creation we spontaneously sing for joy experiencing the creative majesty of our Lord and redeemer.  All the secrets of history are open and laid bare except for our own time.  When we are finding our way toward God, the universe is intact.  When I work myself away from my redeemer, the universe appears with sections missing, segments measured by the time coefficient.  For many, the greatest of human accomplishments are but forgone time their owners neither seeing nor remembering them.  Hence the scriptural admonishment from the Bible says, “Redeem the time, for the days are evil.” Prologue    I placed these in my murdering father’s head to see if he might guess the real nature of things and perhaps make a difference.   Personality and soul and spirit are real parts of  the conceived-yet-to-be-born.  Eternity of the soul belongs to the intrauterine evidenced by John the Baptist being saved and sanctified in the womb of Elizabeth when Jesus came in his presence in the womb of Mary.  Believer’s miscarriages are being raised in heaven observed by visionary Jesse DuPlantis.   Microbiology advances of Steven Meyer and Michael Behe contribute to conclusion that the spark of life happens at conception.  1Corinthians 7:14b otherwise (not in the home of a believer) your children are unclean (as in a lost fallen spirit, a demon),  but now (in a believing home) they are set apart unto God.  Numbers 14:18b The Lord is slow to anger and exceedingly kind: He washes away iniquity transgression yet will by no means leave unpunished but will visit the guiltiness of the parents on the children and on the third generation and on the fourth generation.

It worked.  He opened his mind and will let me pour in my story.

Thank you for reading the first ten chapters of Protophorous. I hope you will get your Kindle copy of the entire thirtythree chapter short novel by clicking this text. If you don't have a Kindle, you can download a "Kindle for pc" free while you are there. Until a conventional publisher picks up my work I make it available through Kindle for only $2.99 so I recommend you buy it now. Thank You, Forest Norman DeArmond

Hey pcs! Political Christians! SuperGladiators! We need a pc, party of Christ  “There is no cause more important than affirming the transcendent right to life of all human beings, the right without which no other rights have any meaning”  Abortion and the Conscience of the Nation, President Ronald Reagan, 1984   goodnorman@live.com