Invisible Terror Collection (17 page)

Julie started to tremble. All her life she had felt called to do something, to be a somebody. Of course, she had never told anybody that, but the feelings had always been there, pushed deep down inside.

Again, the light began to waver and fade.

Where are you going?
Julie asked, startled.

You are too full of self.
The being continued to fade.
You
must evolve past your own identity, past the physical.

Please, don’t go. Please …

The light continued fading. The thoughts grew fainter.
There
is too much of you
…
 

No, please tell me what to do, I’ll do it, just tell me.

The light was almost gone. Only a final thought remained behind:
You must empty yourself. If you are to serve, you must
be drained of self and filled with light.

But —

Suddenly Julie was back in bed. There was no more light, no more voice, just the hard mattress and coarse sheets — and Julie’s heartsick emotions. She had failed. She had been called.

Called to something great.

But she had failed.

Julie reached over and set the crystal on the nightstand. She was too tired to try again, but she hoped for another chance. In a few hours she would be rested enough to reenter the crystal. She would work for as long as it took to go deeper into the mysteries of her guardian, to understand the great designs he had for her.

Even if it took all night. Or the next day. It didn’t matter
how
much time it took.

She was not going to disappoint him again.

**********

Becka slid into her brother’s desk chair and fired up the computer. The blue glow of the screen lit both her face and Ryan’s.

“BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY, BEAM ME UP.” Cornelius, Scott’s pet parrot, paced back and forth on his nearby perch. He had been with the family for as long as Rebecca and Scott could remember.

“MAKE MY DAY. MAKE MY DAY.
SQUAWK!
MAKE MY

DAY.”

Becka winced. When she and Scott had first taught the bird those phrases, they were cool and everybody quoted them.

Unfortunately, when the sayings went out of style, they neglected to go out of Cornelius’s vocabulary.

“BEAM ME UP! BEAM ME UP!”

Becka turned back to the screen as the connection was made with the chat room. Z was Scott’s mysterious friend, the one who had taken an interest in Becka and her brother from the start. No one knew who he was or where he came from, but he was a definite expert on the supernatural.

Becka pulled down the appropriate menu and clicked the mouse.

“You say he usually comes online around nine?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah, or we can just leave each other messages.” Ryan nodded.

“Here we go,” Becka said as she entered her brother’s pass-word: “Dirty Socks.”

Now they were online. She typed:

Z? Are you there? It’s me, Rebecca.

They waited. Even though Becka and Scott had talked to Z

half a dozen times, it always frightened her a little. Not because Z knew so much about the occult, but because he knew so much about them … personal things, things that nobody should know

… things nobody outside of the family
could
know.

Finally, the words formed on the screen: Good evening, Rebecca.

How was your visit with Julie?

Ryan gasped in surprise. “How’d he know we were there?” Becka shrugged, trying to shake off the uneasiness. “He just knows that stuff.”

She turned back to the screen and typed:
Z, Julie said she died and an angel took her to heaven. Is that
possible?

After a pause the words appeared:

Opinion regarding near-death experiences is divided.

In what way?

Some experts believe the experience is a hallucination — the effects of chemicals being released into the brain as it begins shutting down.

Becka nodded. Well, at least there was an explanation.

“Ask him about the others,” Ryan urged. “He said
some
experts. Ask him what the others say.”

Becka typed:

What do other experts believe?

Many believe the soul actually leaves the body. That sometimes it is accompanied by an angel or angels through a tunnel to another dimension where God awaits.

You mean heaven?

They waited. There was no response. Finally Becka typed:
If everybody who dies goes to heaven, then what’s the point
of being a Chris tian?

Another pause. This time it was followed by an answer: Chris tians believe when they stand before God’s throne to be judged, they will be found innocent because Christ paid for their sins. Correct?

Correct.

Where do you suppose that throne is?

Becka looked over to Ryan, then typed:

I imagine in heaven.

Precisely. 

“Of course,” Ryan slapped his forehead. “We should have known that.”

Ryan leaned back in his chair. “Ask him about hell,” he said.

Becka nodded.

Z, I know the Bible talks about hell. But how can a loving God
send people there?

They waited, but no words appeared.

“Why doesn’t he answer?” Ryan asked.

“Sometimes he just doesn’t. At least not right away.” As she spoke, more words appeared on the screen, but they were not the answer to Ryan’s question:

Regarding Julie’s experience, please remember that angels, heaven, hell, the supernatural — all are legitimate experiences if they come from God.

How do you know the difference?

We cross the line into the occult when we attempt to create a supernatural experience on our own.

Please explain.

God is the worker of the supernatural. When we take a shortcut and try to create a supernatural experience on our own — through meditation, channeling, Ouija boards, drugs, crystals — we open ourselves up to satanic counterfeit.

The tiny alarm went off in Becka’s head again. The same one she had heard earlier in the hospital room. She turned to Ryan.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Remember that crystal? Remember Julie said the Ascension Lady had given it to her to call up her angel.” Ryan frowned. “Becka, I really don’t think that’s — ” 

Before he could finish, she spun back to the computer and typed:

Z … are you telling us that not every angel is a good angel?

There was no answer. Becka felt her hands getting damp, her stomach tightening. Once again that old, familiar chill crawled up her spine.

Z … are you there? Z, answer me.

And then, ever so slowly, the final letters formed: Good night, Rebecca. Tell your friend good night too.

The couple stared at the words in stunned silence.

Chapter 5

Krissi’s folks were at it again. It was the usual rantings and ravings over who was spending too much money on what.

Same old screamings. Same old door slammings. As usual, Krissi was hiding out in the safest place to be when the fur flew. Her bedroom.

But tonight she barely noticed the shouting. She was too busy practicing her special writing. She’d already learned the basics.

First, she had to stay relaxed. That meant closing the door, drowning out the fighting parents with a CD, and getting nice and comfortable at her desk.

Next came the pen and tablet. She set them on the desk, poised the pen over the paper, and did something she felt particularly qualified to do: She thought of nothing. Of course, all of this still made Krissi nervous — memories of her hand writing on its own at the mansion still gave her the willies — but something even stronger than the fear kept her going.

That something was the thrill. It was exhilarating to play with danger, to toy with and even control the unknown. But there was something even better than that …

There was the prestige. 

All her life she’d put up with the airhead comments. All her life she’d endured the “beautiful but dumb” snickerings behind her back. For the most part, it looked like people were right: Thinking didn’t seem to be her strong suit. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t important, that she wasn’t a somebody. She was. And if anybody had doubts, let them read that last message. It was beautiful, brilliant, profound … well, at least what she could understand of it.

Krissi closed her eyes and started doodling on the tablet. The arcs were big and wide as she waited for something to happen.

After several seconds she looked down.

Nothing but big and wide arcs.

Her parents’ voices grew louder. She reached over and cranked up the boom box until the room throbbed with music.

It was some alternative group that a guy had given her while trying to put the moves on her. She hated it. Unfortunately, all of her cool CDs were in Philip’s car, so …

She resumed doodling. Once again she allowed her mind to drift. Then, gradually, it began. She felt her hand moving on its own. It was an odd sensation, but it only lasted a few seconds before it stopped.

She opened her eyes and looked at the paper. The scribbles had turned to a different and very distinct handwriting. But it was only four words:

Turn that noise down!

Krissi raised her eyebrows. Apparently, her hand had better taste in music than she thought. “All right, all right,” she chuckled, “you don’t have to get cranky about it.” She reached over and turned down the player. Then she repositioned herself, took a few more deep breaths, and closed her eyes.

Instantly, her hand started moving.

She was pleased that the writing came so quickly. She was definitely getting the hang of it. She wanted to peek, but every time she looked at her hand or became conscious of it, everything came to a halt. So she kept her eyes closed and her mind empty.

She wasn’t sure how long it was before her hand stopped. But when she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she had filled an entire page with the strange handwriting.

Krissi smiled.
Wait’ll the others see this.
She pulled the tablet closer and started to read.

Greetings in the name of the Intergalactic Alliance.

She felt a rush of excitement. This was new.

You and your group have been chosen. You will join with other
Light Workers on your planet to prepare for our coming. With the
guidance of the Ascended Masters, you will teach others to evolve
past their three-dimensional levels and achieve a higher state of
consciousness.

Krissi stopped reading and stared at the words. She wasn’t sure what they meant, but they seemed important. One thing she definitely understood, though: the part that said she had been chosen.

She continued reading.

However, you must be warned of a female in your group. Although
she has introduced you to us, her jealousy and insistence upon
clinging to outdated religious beliefs will prevent you from
achieving your rightful position of power. She is extremely
dangerous to you and your group. As a Chosen One, you must
avoid her. For your own health and safety, be warned.

Sincerely, Xandrak.

Krissi’s heart pounded harder. There was an actual name.

An actual person was writing through her! Then she frowned as she reread the last paragraph. A member of their group would be holding her back. A female who had introduced them to the supernatural was standing in Krissi’s way.

Not only standing in her way, but this person’s — she read the words again — “jealousy” and “outdated religious beliefs” would actually be dangerous to her.

Krissi sat back thoughtfully. Only one person fit that bill.

Already Krissi could feel the slightest trace of anger starting to burn. How dare she be held back! How dare someone like Becka stand in her way, especially over something as important as changing the world!

Krissi reached for the phone and hesitated. Should she call and confront Becka? Or should she tell Philip and the others first?

From inside, a quiet, almost imperceptible voice whispered,
Philip.

She nodded and dialed Philip’s number.

**********

At that exact time another phone call was being made. It was late, and Ryan had already gone home. Now Becka was on the phone, pleading with the night nurse at the hospital to ring through to Julie’s room. It took some doing, but the woman finally gave in.

When Julie answered, her voice was brimming with excitement.

“Hello?”

“Julie, it’s Becka. Are you okay?”

“Becka, it’s
so
cool, you wouldn’t believe it.” Rebecca swallowed back her uneasiness. “What is?”

“My angel. I’ve talked to him two or three times tonight. And he’s got so much to teach me, so much to teach all of us.” Becka’s mouth went dry. She tried to keep her voice steady.

“Julie … listen, are you playing around with that crystal? Are you calling up your … angel?”

“It’s just like the Ascension Lady said.” Julie was practically giggling. “He’s always there, waiting for me, ready to teach me.

There’s so much to learn, Beck, and so much love. You wouldn’t believe the love.”

“Jules …” Becka tried to swallow again. “Jules, I think you’re in danger.”

She heard a soft chuckle on the other end.

“Julie, you’ve got to stop calling that thing up. It’s not real, it’s a counterfeit.”

“No way! He’s too loving, too powerful. And he’s promised me that same power. He’s promised it to all of us.”

“Julie — ”

“Look, I’d better be going.”