Astaroth: Demon Rising: Out of the Shadows

It's 2012. Our planet is moving into the last days as prophesized in the Bible. The Mayan Calendar nears its final recorded day of 12/12/12. Compounding the matter and disturbing man and demon alike, scientists discover an enormous object on a collision course with the earth. This story has it all, Angels, demons, Zombies, Good and Evil men, Rescues, executions, ground and air combat as gigantic creatures both good and evil struggle for superiority on the earth.

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ASTAROTH: Demon RisingOut Of The ShadowsBy L.E. Johnson R.A. JohnsonAuthorHouseCopyright © 2011 L.E. Johnson and R.A. JohnsonAll right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4567-3796-2Chapter One The Prophesy and the vision Good Vs Evil Your young men will see visions, and your old men, will dream dreams. Pastor Joshua McQue Saturday October 13th, 2012 Pastor McQue bid his wife Marie, a good evening. "I hope your sister feels better soon, Marie. Give her my love, and I'll see you in a couple of days." Pastor McQue, hung up the phone, and looked at the clock on the wall. "Five forty-five," he thought, as he closed his daily planner, and slid several letters into the outgoing tray. Que checked the time again, but this time he looked at his watch, and then at the wall clock. Que leaned back in his chair, satisfied his pastoral duties were finished for the day; he closed his brief case, and stood to button his coat. He walked across the room to a solid oak cabinet, where he inserted a key into the small lock. With a slight turn of his thumb, he pulled the door open, and carefully, he removed the McQue family Bible, wrapped in a grey cotton fabric. Holding the package to his left breast, he pushed the cabinet door closed, and turned out the light. Que then walked out of the room, and pulled the door closed. Pastor Que, now in the study, noticed his personal assistant, Rebecca Stein, standing on the bookcase step ladder. She had her arm stretched out, as she straightened, one of four portraits, on the wall. "Careful Rebecca," said Pastor Que "Good evening Pastor," she replied, without turning around, "Mattie dusted here in the study today. She never' Gets these portraits straight." After dropping her arms to her side, and eyeballing the distance, between the portraits, Rebecca reached up and gave a slight nudge to one portrait, bringing it inline with the others. "Marie asked me, to hold your dinner, until seven tonight" she said, as she stepped off the ladder. "That's right Rebecca, Thank you" said Pastor Que, as he reflected on the four portraits. The first, and oldest, is of his great grandfather Isaac, who built the church." The second portrait was Isaac's son James, and then Pastor Que's father John, and finally Que himself. Rebecca, who is not only a life long friend of the family, but a perfectionist in all things, smiled, and went about her self appointed mission, of re-adjusting everything the housekeeper, Matilda Ross, had dusted that afternoon. Pastor Que turned, and left the study walking to the church's lower terrace, overlooking the court-yard, and the two hundred year old church cemetery. From here, he could also see just beyond the cemetery, to Liberty Creek, and the 260 acre, County owned, Liberty Park, graced with some of Maryland's larges pine trees. Que heard the fluttering of wings, and looked up, just in time to see several pigeons, fly into the church's bell tower. The evening air was moist, harboring a scent of pine, from the park, and freshly mowed grass, of the church cemetery. Except for a few rain clouds approaching from the southwest, the sky was clear and filled with stars from, the east to west, but to the south, the city skyline of Marsh Hills, shown even darker than the night before. "Goodnight Pastor Que," shouted a voice from below. "Goodnight Orely," replied Que, "The grounds look great, thank you!" "Should I turn off the courtyard lights, sir?" he asked. "I'll take care of that Orely, See you tomorrow." "Okay! Goodnight Pastor," said the aged man, as he slowly walked to a faded yellow pickup, filled with, rakes, shovels, and other tools of his trade. After enjoying, a deep satisfying breath of fresh air, Pastor McQue, descended the nine steps to a cobble stone walkway, leading into the church courtyard. In the shadow of four oak trees, standing watch high over the courtyard, Que slowly walked past several early American styled lamp posts, skillfully employed, to cast their light across the Garden of God, displaying the labors, of the stone mason, and the vigilance of the garden keeper. He paused at the entrance to the courtyard, and looked to the left, toward the ornamental gate of the cemetery. He then turned back, and gazed up at the magnificent Edifice, known for well over a century, as the Marsh Hills, Presbyterian Church. The sky provided a striking backdrop, for the twin spires reaching toward heaven, as the large stones of the fascia, absorbed the yellow hues, showered upon it by the landscape lights, boasting not only of its beauty, but of its strength, its character, and above all, its purpose. Pastor Que thought of the thousands that had come, and gone through the doors of this earthly mansion. Countless days filled with weddings, Baptisms, dedications, and the many funerals. The church cemetery has over four thousand souls, buried within its walls; many of them were born, and died, with his fore fathers, Pastor Que's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chill. "Soon" he thought. "My scripture reading will have to take place indoors." On clear days, in the summer months, Pastor Que favors reading Bible scriptures in the courtyard. The stone wall that surrounds the Courtyard, as well as those that encompass the four gardens, along with other stone partitions, and walkways, absorb the sun's rays during the day, and slowly release their warmth in the evening hours. Apart from birds' chirping, or an occasional squirrel, chasing its mate around the trunk of one of the four oaks, the Courtyard is quiet, and free from distractions. To Pastor Que, this is truly one of the most peaceful places on God's earth. Six- green iron framed benches, along with as many matching early American style street lamps, are spaced evenly on a stone walkway around the courtyard. Each provide sufficient light for reading at night, but the evening air is becoming cooler, and Pastor Que would have gone inside the church, however tonight, is a special night, and regardless of the weather conditions, Que will keep a promise made long ago. "Forty years" he thought, as he took out a handkerchief, and whipped the dried leaves from the oak boards, of an iron framed bench. Pastor Que sat down, and lifted up his eyes to the face, of the centuries old statute of Jesus Christ. The twelve foot high statue, stands in the middle of the courtyard, and appears to be overlooking the filled to capacity cemetery. The statue can be seen from Liberty Park, and beyond, across the canal, where the summers are filled with family picnics, and the laughter of children. On this night, the churches long history lay heavy on the mind of its present day cleric. Joshua McQue, a fourth generation minister, born, and raised, on a modest farm, next to the church, has just spent weeks, going through old church records. Since the discovery of Destiny, things are happening, that would shake the faith of any man. Even a dedicated man like Joshua McQue, who has sworn allegiance to a purpose that makes perfect sense and seems right when nothing else does, but places him at a crossroad where, words, and actions meet, but can easily go in different directions. Pastor McQue looked at his watch. He noted, the six o'clock hour was, but a few minutes away. He rested the blanketed Bible upon his lap, as he gazed at the inscription hewn into the granite base of the statue. "God alone is Lord, of the conscience; and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men." Pastor McQue then thought of Isaac McQue, his Great Grandfather. It is recorded that during, one of his many trips to England, Isaac, came across this century's old statue sculpted in Scotland, during the second reformation period. The one piece granite statue, had just been sold at an auction house, and Isaac was so enamored by it, he paid the purchaser, twice what he had paid for it. Isaac then had the statue shipped by boat, to his church in Maryland. As the statue traveled by sea, to its new home, in the early morning hours of, December 21st, 1882, Pastor Isaac McQue's century old church, burned to the ground. Isaac McQue was devastated, but after several weeks of mourning, he took a carriage to Baltimore, where he mortgaged his farm, and his home to rebuild the church. Isaac recorded in his diary, that one night soon after the church fire; he suffered a long night of gloom and heaviness of heart. But the following morning, as he walked through the razed ruins, and while the smell of charred timber, still filled the air, he had a vision, and saw his cherish statue, and all around it, a magnificent large stone church, under a cloudless blue sky. So with new stone from a nearby quarry, and all the old stones he could salvage, Isaac went to work on his new church, while for almost three years, the statue remained, at New York harbor. Isaac wanted a courtyard between the church, and the cemetery, so he moved the foundation for the new church. Even though it was right in the middle, of the planned courtyard, Isaac had his workers leave the solid granite cornerstone, from the one hundred year old structure undisturbed, and it was upon this stone he placed the standing Christ statue. Que carefully opened, the 110 year old Bible, to the back inside cover, where his great grandfather, Isaac had penned an entry. Thursday, October 13th, 1892, Heart softened, by our Savior's words, count, and score, forty years, and no more, to the fourth father, and the sons of the Apocalypse, hence time will be no more. Isaac, then scribed a line under his name, and left it blank. Forty years later, on October 13th, 1932, it became evident; this line was intended for the signature, of his son, James Isaac McQue. On that day, the 71 year old Isaac McQue, who would soon turn the church over to his grandson, John Isaac McQue, made a brief entry, lamenting a signature that would forever be missing, from this holy leaf? Isaac McQue's, only son, James Isaac McQue, was born on the 21st of September, 1883. The night before his beloved wife Elizabeth, was laid to rest in the McQue family cemetery. James grew up working with his father, both in the church, and on the farm, but he felt a call to serve his country, and joined the army. James joined as a medic, but later served both God, and country as a Chaplain. While home on leave in 1910, he married his childhood sweetheart, Sarah Birchet, and four days later, with a large gathering of friends, and family at the church, James bid all farewell and left for his final mission in Europe. After the war, James planned to leave the army, and join his father in the service of the church, but on May 11th, 1914 while giving aid, to a British soldier on a battlefield in France, he was fatally wounded by enemy fire. James Isaac McQue, was buried in the church cemetery, two months later, after his young wife, and two year old son John, were able to place a bouquet, of tear soaked flowers, from the church garden upon his grave. Pastor Joshua McQue then focused on down to a third entry, forty years later. On August, 13th, 1972, his now deceased Father, John James McQue, sat in this very spot, and added his name to the list of patriarchs. Just before John's death, in 1973, he turned the Church over to Joshua, and revealed to him, this prophesy concerning the sons of the Apocalypse. Josh remembered, the first time he read his Great Grandfather's remarks in the old Bible. He learned that his forefathers, had all seen visions of the coming apocalypse, and each had their vision exactly forty years apart. Que hoped that when the time came, he would join his forefathers, in this sacred family ritual. There has been only one son born, to each of his forefathers, for generations, and now he was the fourth father, and he had two sons. It seemed certain to Que that he was the father mentioned in this prophesy, and if that is true, then his two boys, are the Sons of the apocalypse. His father asked him not to disclose the family secret, to anyone, until after he had his own vision. Joshua knows he will have to use wisdom, as to how, and when, to reveal the details of the Prophesy to his two sons. Tonight, forty years later, at precisely six p.m. he will finally pen his name to the waiting line, scribed by his father, so long ago. Pastor Que turned his wrist, and again checked the time; he watched the second hand descend, and then head for five fifty-six. Suddenly a wave of sadness, stirred through his soul. "Four more minutes," before the long awaited event will occur. But afterwards without fanfare, without celebration, and with no one to share the moment, the family Bible will be returned to its protective cover, and to the solid oak cabinet under lock and key, to wait for the unlikely event, one of his sons, will sit here on August 13th, 2052. Pastor Que gazed up at the statue, and said a Prayer. He then sat back, and opened the Bible. He began to read Revelation 12-7, remembering how often as a child he saw his father sitting on this bench, reading scriptures from the same leather bound Bible. 7 And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon and his angels, fought, 8 but they did not prevail, nor was there a place found for them in heaven any longer. 9 And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceives the whole world; he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him. "God help us," said Que, as he sat up straight, and took an ink pen from his shirt pocket, and carefully signed his name, on the line his father had left for him. Que then scribed a line below his name, and left it blank. Suddenly, Pastor Que felt a strong gust of wind. He pulled his coat closed at the neck. The wind blew harder, and Que, watched the dried oak leaves, slowly begin to drift and swirl around, in the lamp lighted courtyard. At first, it was just a few leaves, but the wind grew stronger, flowing around the statue. The pages of the McQue family Bible began to turn, one by one, blown by the wind, faster, and faster, page after page; the written words were pulled from the pages into the whirlwind, until all the pages were completely blank. His attention was drawn to the face of the statue, as a panoramic scene opened up before his eyes. He saw four hooded horsemen, in full armor riding quickly toward him, in a cloud of dust, smoke, and ash. The blasts from the horse's nostrils was deafening, and their hoofs thundered in unison through scenes of sick, and starving populations, across the earth. Behind the horseman, Que saw shifting scenes of unparalleled destruction, as mankind's landmarks were turned to dust. He saw a blackened sky with a blood red horizon. Clouds boiled and churned, as countless armed soldiers stormed across a ravaged landscape. The peoples of the earth were rioting, and multitudes were clashing, with one another as mushrooming clouds rose in the distance. Before his eyes, he saw the earth shaking, and swallowing up mountains. Fields burned with fire, and gigantic waves destroyed major cities of the world, as the four horseman continued to ride ever harder. There began loud continuous cracks of thunder as flashes of lightening lit up the sky. Towering over the statue was a brilliant light and out of the light came thunder, and out of the thunder a voice spoke like a judge sentencing a criminal. Que was stricken with a fear, like he had never felt before. "Fear not, I am thy shield," said a voice, from within the thunder. Que immediately felt a sense of peace, and calm, as he heard the thunder's ominous warning. "Many sorrows shall be to the wicked. All creatures are at my beckoning: I need not sound a trumpet, nor beat a drum, to give them notice or to gather them to battle. No I call to them and they answer with courage. From the mountains and from the plains: both above and below. They that fill the heavens shall feasts on those that war against me" "Pastor" cried a woman's voice from nearby. "Pastor Que" the voice cried out again. As Que's eyes began to focus, he saw Rebecca his personal assistant. "Pastor, you should come inside," she said, "it is beginning to rain." Que looked at the Bible on his lap, just as a raindrop fell upon the inked scriptures. He quickly closed the Bible, and placed it beneath his coat. (Continues...) Excerpted from ASTAROTH: Demon Risingby L.E. Johnson R.A. Johnson Copyright © 2011 by L.E. Johnson and R.A. Johnson. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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