Spirits of the Smokeless Fire Part 2
Our adventure of seeking an ancient idol has ended up being an upsetting experience—there's been talk of jinns and demons and the whole impromptu expedition has left me feeling distinctly nauseous.
My fears have made me want to abandon the search and turn back, but I feel an obligation to the abbot to see the matter through to its conclusion.
Besides, we've spent the last half hour climbing a rocky hillside and backing out now would make me look foolish.
We continue climbing for another five minutes and finally locate the cave.
We rest briefly, taking time to hydrate ourselves and recover our strength, then begin exploring.
“I found the idol,” Damien suddenly calls out.
“When the abbot sees it, he hisses in displeasure. “It was as I suspected—an effigy of Baal.”
It may as well have been a statue of Satan.
Baal was ranked as the principal ruler in hell, ruling over the East with 66 legions of demons.
But to some, he wasn’t just a high-ranking devil, but Lucifer himself.
“This idol is several thousand years old,” I tell them. “It’s an enormous find.”
“It’s evil,” The abbot says through clenched teeth. “I find it loathsome to look at.”
I begin excavating the sand from around its base.
“It actually smells sulfurous,” I exclaim, “—like the odour of spent matches.”
The abbot’s not surprised. “The stone has probably been exposed to fire. The Canaanites used to sacrifice their children to the flames to appease Baal.”
The abbot’s words nauseate me—but the find is of immense importance, from an archeological perspective.
“Look!” cries Damian suddenly; he points outside the cave, back to the desert.
The pale blue of the sky in the east has tarnished like a spreading spot of grease.
As we watch, it turns a darker shade of gunmetal blue and begins quickly expanding.
“I’ve never seen anything like that,” the abbot whispers.
Dust devils spring up from the ground, whirling and hissing, ascending like minarets, twisting high into the air.
Within minutes an ominous dark front begins moving in and pink flashes of lightning illuminate a cloudy geography.
The first rumblings of thunder shake the mountain and the cave where we shelter.
The abbot’s expression grows very stern. “This is not the work of Jinn’s, but of demons. We need to cover the idol and leave this place.”
I’m about to object when a terrific roar splits the heavens and a red bolt of lightning forks down, striking within a hundred yards of us.
Damien covers his ears and falls to his knees.
Abba Arsenius looks heavenward and begins praying:
“O God, do not leave me. I have done nothing good in your sight, but according to your goodness, let me now make a beginning of good.”
He pushes me aside and begins scooping handfuls of sand over the idol.
I motion for Damien to help and together the three of us succeed in covering it—and as we do, the storm outside subsides.
As soon as it’s safe to leave the cave, we hurry back to the jeep and soon are jouncing at break-neck speed down the twisting road.
None of us looks back.
The Negev is a rocky desert—a land of dry bones, dusty mountains and dry riverbeds that bloom after a rain.
It’s a strangely beautiful but forbidding place. Sand dunes can reach 30 meters high.
The land is deserted. No one bothers to take a census for a demography—they’d be more likely to study it for the purposes of demonology – and no one goes there but Bedouins, or hermits or fools searching for artifacts, such as I.
The scriptures speak of Azazel, a goat-like spirit, or the Jinns who haunt the desert.
To appease these dread lords, the Israelites offered sacrifices.
They sacrificed amid the strong rugged rocks of the desert.
They sacrificed out of fear.
But this was also the place where Isaac built his altar and Jacob saw his ladder with angels ascending and descending.
It was here where Elijah hid in the cave and heard not the dry rasp of demons, but the still, small voice of God.
Yes, the Negev is forbidding, but only as a desolate place.
I have no fear of demons, but I’ll leave the Baal to his wilderness—out of respect, not fear.
He can have his desolate place—his haunt of jackals.
But one day the desert will bloom—water will gush forth and the burning land will become a pool.
No lion, or ravenous beast will be there.
You see, I know how the story ends.
Until then, I’ll leave the demon to the dry rasping whispers of sand—he rules it for now, this Lord of the Flies with his minions buzzing over the carcasses of goats.
It's a fine hell for him to spend with his companions—the hissing snakes.
They coil and uncoil, slithering out of his mouth.
A perfect excercise of "less is more".
The writing is sober, precise. Sometimes almost minimalistic. And yet, the effect is perfect.
There is so much to learn from this.
I am really impressed and thankful. Thank you so much for sharing.
Congratulations.
thank you, @flashfiction - I appreciate your understanding of the art of fiction. The more understated the writing, the more compressed and intense the effect. Poets use this technique as well :)
Yeah, it's the same technique poets use. I specialize in Flash Fiction, so i feel fascinated for brevity and effect. And you are SO good with it. I just hope i could be this good someday.
I will keep an eye on your excellent work, thank you very much for sharing. :)
This story is now my personal favourite. It is very well written. The reader can feel the emotions of the three men in the cave...
thanks, Ceci - and the narrator is conflicted. In the moment, he's terrified, but in retrospect he regains his perspective. Despite his convictions he realizes being in the presence of evil is harrowing.
This is one of my favorites as well. Re the sulphurous smell....I think you need to add a bit of methane into that mix as well - gehenna is a garbage dump after all and the smell of demonic activity is more than the scent of spent matches, in my opinion.
yes, I mean what can you say about a being who wears a dung cap?
Now that's a picture I will quickly remove from my mind.....ew
it's intriguing how evil can permeate things, even inanimate objects like statues or even clothing. Foe those who doubt this, ask them if they'd wear a sweater worn by a serial killer or sexual predator
yes, Jude 1:23 - hate even clothing stained by corrupted flesh. I guess that's why people want to tear down buildings where evil acts have occurred.
peculiar why demons would want to clothe themselves...must be a spiritual reason for that
The same reason we want to clothe ourselves according to Biblical scholars. Originally, we were clothed with the glory of God, but then mankind fell, and now...Ichabod - the glory has fled and we feel naked. The evil angels also fell and lost their covering of righteousness and now will even try to clothe themselves with sand
But they have no shame....so I don't know if that's why they clothes themselves - maybe to pretend or masquerade around like us to fool people.
that's a good point - their lack of shame - but that's one aspect of wanting a covering,and yes, they are pretenders as Jude says and deceivers
Best i have read for a long time. You get my first vote at steemit.
Thank you for sharing.
thanks, @jetben2016
i have no fear demons
I ain't afraid of no ghosts too, except late at night when the house is still :)
to quote Ghostbusters
yes:)
The photo takes you right into the context of the story as if you were right in the midst of the experience. Excellent story and well written. Jax
This post has received a 20.49 % upvote from @booster thanks to: @johnjgeddes.
searching idol in the storm with no fear
Wow this is great I love it. I would really appreciate if you could check my work I am new to steemit and I love photography :)