The Will of the People Will Not Be Usurped

The Will of the People Will Not Be Usurped

Ezra T. Gray

“The will of the people will not be usurped! The will of the people will not be usurped! The will of the people will not be usurped! The will of the people….”

The words sounded over and over again in the solemn assembly until the ruddy orator in the front of the hall held up his hand. “So,” he shouted, “do we adopt this or no?”

Shouts reverberated throughout the assembly. “Aye! Aye! Aye!”

“Well, lads, let us put it to a vote! Yeas, raise your hands!”

Hands went up all over the assembly hall.

“Now, nays!”

Not a single hand went up.

“Well lads,” the orator bellowed, “the yeas have it! May God lead us and may the will of the people be the will of God, always! Now, when we arrive in New Freeland, this day will be our roadmap to building a new society.”

And so it was that the Freelanders left in droves and herds, young and old, strong and feeble, men and women, on ships headed for a new land, a land where tyranny did not rule, a land not subject to a cruel and ruthless king.

But some of the inhabitants of Freeland stayed—cowards, mostly, and those who were too afraid to brave a new place, who traded the security of the old world for the freedom of the new. Those people did not want to take responsibility for their own destiny and, more importantly, did not want to embrace God’s plan for man and follow the truths of God by choice. Those people wanted a man to dictate the rules, a man who, in this case, was a wicked and evil fool.

The man had come to Freeland a strange-born fellow, but over time he convinced those who followed him that he was one of them, born there. He knew the path of God, but chose to follow another path, a path of evil. Professing himself wise, he became a fool.

The peoples’ will had always been to follow the Holy Book. Of course, as with all peoples, there were a few who chose not to follow. Mostly they were left alone, but when the new leader came into power, he usurped the will of the people and put the minority in power, to rule over the majority.

As with other lands and peoples who chose to follow that abomination, Freeland degraded into a place of chaos, of inequality, of riotous and wicked behavior. It became a place of unspeakable acts of ungodly sacrifice. Finally a group of Freelanders could take no more and they left.

They voted to allow the will of the majority to rule and so it was that New Freeland came into being. Of course the old country still existed, but over time the name was changed for it was free no more.

It was renamed after the wicked king who had usurped a people and the will of God, a man who presided over the forcible murders of unborn children and, later, the infanticide of post-birth babes—all in the name of progress. The king touted the word ‘progressive’ a lot. He renamed the land after himself, calling it Amaboland. Amaboland was a place of profound evil.

As with all mortals, King Amabo eventually died, but it was too late for the people of Amaboland. They became reprobates, living in a cesspool of filth where the rule of the few overshadowed the hopes and dreams of the many. All wealth was given to the few and the many were starved.

But I digress. The fate of Amaboland is not our concern.

The king died, and in Hell he lifted up his eyes, being in great torment—and that, friends, is where our story begins. You may think that Hell is where he stayed, but I have bad news for you, he got out. (Think about it.)


Hell is Hell, right? We know from Jesus’ teaching that when Lazarus died, and the rich man died, the rich man awoke in Hell in great torment. And we know that he couldn’t go to Heaven, and we know that Father Abraham disallowed him to go back and speak to his brothers.  But does that mean that he could never get out?

I would like to clarify something.  Hell and the Lake of Fire are two separate things. Hell is a living being, the Lake of Fire is a place.  Make no mistake, you will not get out of the Lake of Fire.  Hell, on the other hand, can and does give up its souls.  And in the belly of this living creature named Hell is where the king found himself, tormented day and night for his evil ways. It was there in the belly of the beast, where those uncovered by the blood will eventually find themselves, that this evil soul struck a deal. As the old cliché goes, it was a ‘deal with the Devil.’

The deal was a simple one.  The king would assist Satan in bringing Satan’s kingdom to fruition upon the Earth.  In return, the king would avoid eternal punishment and live as a prince in Satan’s new kingdom. The problem is, the king forgot one thing.  The Devil is a liar, and the father of them all.

So it was that the king found himself in a new place in a new time, and in a new body—a body very different from his old one.  He wasn’t born into the world. The soul of a man who Satan had positioned to hold a place of great authority was simply plucked out and replaced with the soul of the king.  At first the king was a little unsure.  The history of this new time only went back a few thousand years and much of it had been lost.  There were many familiarities about his new world, but many things were different as well.  He finally decided there had been some sort of apex, a cataclysmic event after his departure from the world that had changed both the geological world and the spiritual world.  Evil was prevalent and very abundant in his prior world, and evil abounded in his new world as well. However, in this new place, a Light existed that did not exist in the world prior—or at least if it had, he didn’t know about it.

In his life past, he had heard stories and rumors of this Light, but now, he discovered, the Light dwelt among men. He understood that his mission, his job if you will, was to negate this Light, to snuff it out and remove any evidence that the Light ever existed so that another could reign in the Light’s stead and bring in a new order, an order of decadence and evil.  He also realized very quickly that he was not the only agent operating in this capacity.  There were others throughout the world, also in positions of great power, dark minions working towards the same end, who, cloaked by the guise of religion and government, labored day and night to destroy the one true and mighty Light.

As far as the king could tell, his lord’s plans were proceeding very well.  In the new country he had been appointed to rule over, sin and decadence were very prevalent.  He was pleased to see that man was still killing his own children.  He was even more elated to see that the legalized murder of an unborn child was well ingrained and well protected.  Deviant sexual behavior and unnatural unions were not only accepted, but legally protected.  How could anything go wrong?

But in the back of the king’s mind, there was always the Light, and he grew, very quickly, to hate it.  He could see it shine in some men and women’s faces both in his country and abroad, and he loathed them for it.  He made it a point to surround himself with people who were completely unassociated with the Light—which wasn’t that difficult because, while it shone so brightly, there were precious few who carried it. However, day and night, it haunted him and he conferred continually with other dark ones on the best ways to defeat the Light. He knew that he must destroy the foundations of the country he had been chosen to rule because they were based on the Light.  As a matter of fact, the sole purpose for which his country had been founded was to ensure that men and women could embrace the Light freely without interference from anyone, and that, he could no longer have.

The body of the man he now possessed had been freely elected—well sort of, there had been some cheating involved, but never the less, for all practical purposes it appeared that he had been duly chosen by the people. One of his major concerns was that the arrangement of leadership was time-sensitive, and his tenure was about to expire. He would need more time, but that was a simple enough matter that he understood well.  Remember, in his last life he was a king, not an elected official. Ruling through force, intimidation and tyranny was the very reason the King of Darkness had chosen him for this assignment, and now was the time to destroy this land of freeborn men and women, the same as he had destroyed his land before.  In this, he was elated.

Never the less, he was continually troubled by the Light. To complicate matters further, two men had appeared on the world scene to assist the Light.  To the best of his knowledge, and according to the testimonials of his confederates, these men were impervious to assassination, destruction, or even compromise.

And so it was that this prince of subversion found himself in a secret meeting with one of the world’s leading religious figures, who was no man of God at all, but, like the king, had been pressed into service via a deal with the devil.

“So,” the king asked, “who are these two guys, and what do we do about them?”

The religious leader leaned forward.  The body he possessed was older and more frailthan that of the king. “The answer to your first question is relatively simple. They are what the People of the Light call the Two Witnesses.  The answer to your second question is in some ways a little more complicated.”

The king touched his right hand to his chin, as though to stroke his beard, a beard he no longer had, a beard he had worn in his last life, but never in this life.  “Well,” he began, “I can tell you what I think….”


This ends rather abruptly, right? I promise I will continue with this story, however, I’ve yet to see it play out.  But if you want to read the spoiler, simply open your Bible and read the book of Revelations.

The End

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