Navigator, Chapter 17 – A Sunday Story

Posted bySuzette BenjaminPosted inShort Stories, Sunday Short Story
Image credit:  © LovePik

Chapter 17

“Well, that’s settled then, off you go Navigator (Isabella).” Said the twenty-eight men dressed in freshly pressed embroidered suits around the acacia wood boardroom table in Shangri-la.

Metty (Methuselah, Isabella’s guardian angel) tried to speak but his voice was silenced by someone unseen.

Then suddenly, before Isabella could ask for details of the mission, her surroundings changed…

She was alone in an empty sepulcher, and from the lack of sound, she sensed she was deep underground.

It was a dark place. Not the dark of lights turned off. But the dark of a void in a deep cavern of some kind. Isabella tried to speak, to call out…

Before she could speak— a voice spoke in Isabella’s mind:

“Be careful of your words in this place, little one. Nothing is as it seems.”

Isabella recognized the voice, it was that of her late grandmother Clemora.

Isabella smiled and kept silent.

Suddenly, the floor beneath Isabella’s feet gave way. She was for a time falling into nothingness deeper and deeper in this sort of cavern. Her flaming sword which she carried about in her half-human and half-angel bloodstream when she was alive in her physical body, materialized.

She grabbed the sword and became its hilt. Comfortably, she felt herself floating downward, still deeper and deeper into whatever or wherever she had been sent.

She then realized that there was no fresh air in this place. No oxygen at all.

Suddenly an eerie scene opened on her right…

In a strange flash of light like Dawn’s sunlight, Isabella thought she saw her apartment back in Portugal. It was sort of an old-style movie flashback scene, not in black and white, but in sepia…

…and then the aroma of her favorite coffee…brewing wafted to her nostrils and to her surprise she could smell it!

Puzzled, Isabella thought to herself. “If there is no air to breathe in this place, and if I am dead in my physical body, how is it I can smell my favorite coffee brewing…what is going on!”

Then her apartment scene faded to darkness…

Then out of the blue, Isabella suddenly felt a wave of negativity in her heart. She felt grief, anger, pain, remorse, and some other emotions she could not label.

Then her emotional cocktail was stirred up even further by depression’s tarnished spoon.

The urge to unburden her soul to speak out loud a barrage of ill-advised words was insatiable.

Further, for no reason, she began to feel bitter about her life choices. Doubting herself for selecting a life path fraught with uncertainty, one relegated to the shadows and glued together by danger.

She tried to breathe to think, but there was no air to breathe. Her emotions were consuming her mind like she had never experienced before.

Suddenly Isabella remembered her grandmother’s wisdom on mental attacks.

Isabella prayed without sound, and from her heart:

“I do not consent to this assault on my mind and intrusion into my energy/ life force. Rain down holy fire and destroy this defilement at its origin!”

As if in response to her prayer, Isabella felt peace once again. Her spy-trained mind suddenly unleashed in her thoughts a host of clues that she had missed since her arrival in Shangri-la.

As if an imaginary vise grip had removed the taunt blinders someone or something had installed in her mind’s ability to think clearly.

First, the men who claimed to be the lower level council of twenty-eight saints serving the Divine in the heavens hid their feet— both in the hookah bar, and covered by the boardroom table.

What were they hiding about their real identity, she wondered? For the real twenty-eight of the Council stood barefoot day and night before the throne of the Divine, worshipping.

Second, she noted that she was quickly whisked away from the scene of her “death.” What did they, whoever they are, not want her to see/examine about her so-called remains?

Unexpectedly…fresh air rushed in from somewhere unseen. Isabella breathed in. Hearing herself breathe, Isabella realized that she was not dead.

She exclaimed! “Holy sh_@@$, my “death” was an illusion. Even I believed it! Dear God who has this kind of power over the human mind!”

Without time to savor the moment, Isabella found herself suddenly drowning…!

Because, in response to her speech, a great three-headed beast appeared and seized her by the neck. Howling with rage, the three-headed beast pushed Isabella violently into a deep wadi which suddenly formed, in the cavern.

The water bubbled, seething, writhing as if its currents were alive. The water pulled at Isabella’s body trying to tear her limbs off. Isabella screamed in agony. Then in response to her voice…The water disappeared and…

The walls of the cavern caved in, like dirt sucked into a vacuum cleaner nozzle, to reveal a typhoon raging toward her position.

Now, she was in a wide open space no longer in the cavern. The sky was pitch black. A tidal wave, looming dark and clear almost twice her height rushed towards her at almost 30 miles an hour.

Isabella knew she could not outrun that deluge.

Suddenly as it started, the tidal wave of water disappeared.

Then, out of the darkness, she heard the sound of many hooves, of metal and of armor clanking.

In the distance, an army of warriors all with the sign of a goat on their helmets approached. The mounted horde moved faster than it seemed possible.

Leading the charge, was the one Isabella recognized from photos in Egyptian history books, a giant with the head of a goat mask with three horns, barechested with the eye of Osiris in a triangle of gold necklace. It was Baphomet more commonly known as “the embodiment of all evil…”

Meanwhile back in the boardroom in Shangri La with the twenty-eight men in embroidered suits…

Unbeknownst to Isabella, Metty was hindered from joining her on her mission because…

Metty had figured out, albeit, a moment too late, that he and Isabella were in some sort of complex illusion created by powerful persons/beings unknown. He had noted with his keen ear tuned to the sound of an angel’s choir, that the voices of these twenty-eight “persons,” were not in precise sync.

He had been restrained when he attempted to warn Isabella at the very moment that she was spirited away.

Metty, now bound in increasingly tightening chains, wriggled furiously in the wingback armchair seated around the acacia wood boardroom table with the twenty-eight men, or whoever they were, in the embroidered business suites. He spoke:

“You do realize that Isabella is very wise. She will figure out your plan “gentlemen.” I have faith that she will not fall for your schemes.”

“Ah, angel Metty you think too highly of your charge.” Said one of the twenty-eight men around Shangri La’s boardroom table, suddenly dropping all pretense of speaking in unison with his fellow teammates.

“She will figure out that it was you whoever you are —for you are not the real “Council of twenty-eight”— who orchestrated what looked like her physical death. And that this (Metty twirled his head in a half circle, for he was otherwise completely chained) is an illusion for she is not really dead but alive!”

Having discovered, unbeknownst to anyone else present, that if he sat still, his chains loosened markedly, Metty ceased his movements and continued speaking;

“You did not anticipate that your plan for Isabella would backfire. Your raggedy as@_s tricks increased her abilities. Now, she is fully aware. She knows that she can become “one” with the flaming sword, and you all are afraid of her, aren’t you, you bastards. I can feel it!”

And then, Metty held his peace. He prayed silently that Isabella wherever they had sent her, had figured out that she had been lured into a trap. And not just any trap, one orchestrated by ancient forces of evil…

***To be Continued Next Sunday***

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapters 15 & 16

Published by Suzette Benjamin

Positive thinker, inspirational, writer, faith

80 thoughts on “Navigator, Chapter 17 – A Sunday Story”

  4. 👵“Be careful of your words in this place, little one. Nothing is as it seems.”👵

    Just in time
    Oh the wonder and magic
    In having a grandma like Clemora
    Sitting at the seat of your intuition

    Liked by 1 person

  5. 👵Her flaming sword which she carried about in her half-human and half-angel bloodstream when she was alive in her physical body, materialized.👵

    There is spirit too!!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. 👵Comfortably she felt herself floating downward still deeper and deeper into whatever or wherever she was sent.👵

    Oh here is just a wonderful experience. I remember, a while back I read stories about people who saw the otherside of earth’s life; some were playing piano, others were engaging scrolls, there were gardeners and trumpets, also saxophones, music of many genres, doing their stuff. It was lovely reading which soothed the heart.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Her sword is a source of her comfort through danger. Yes you are correct in your reflections, stories brought from the other side do show much comfort. In fact I have never read of bad things in stories from those who saw the other side for a moment and came back to tell about it. Fascinating!!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes, same with me, I’ve read many of these wonderful stories. I’m not sure if it was a pdf file or a book someone loan me, but there were some beautifully detailed accounts. I wish I can remember the title.

        Liked by 1 person

  7. 👵In a strange flash of light like Dawn’s sunlight, Isabella thought she saw her apartment back in Portugal. It was sort of an old-style movie flashback scene, not in black and white, but in sepia…👵

    Feelings of déjá vu overcome me, like I have read this before.
    I’ve read accounts, that upon “waking up dead”, the spirit body visit their old homes.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. True indeed visiting the familiar trying to make sense of one’s present “state.”
      But here the illusion as we find out later that had been forced upon Isabella was starting to unravel. Her mind was attempting to reassert its her right to choose.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. 👵She then realized that there was no fresh air in this place. No oxygen at all.👵

    Is this a dream state? Or is she in a realm where breathing has no dependency with oxygen?

    👵Then her emotional cocktail was stirred up even further by depression’s tarnished spoon.👵

    The cocktail and spoon, – which I imagine is one of those long handle, tiny scoop spoons- are powerful metaphors and imagery. Striking and beautifully composed, it hits home.

    👵Further, for no reason, she began to feel bitter about her life choices. Doubting herself for selecting a life path fraught with uncertainty, one relegated to the shadows and glued together with danger.👵

    Yes, I can relate to this from previous reading, that when these spirits are taken up these feelings of regret overcome them as certain parts of the scrolls of their lives are flighted

    👵“I do not consent to this assault on my mind and intrusion into my energy/ life force. Rain down holy fire and destroy this defilement at its origin!”👵

    Knocck me down!!! Compelling and Powerful Poet!!!
    A mighty prayer

    In this life for daily battles and ownership.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. 👵As if an imaginary vise grip had removed the taunt blinders someone or something had installed in her mind’s ability to think clearly.👵

    I love how you make use of mechanical tools to describe her process of getting back her mind to see clearly now.

    👵For the real twenty-eight of the Council stood barefoot day and night before the throne of the Divine, worshipping.👵

    I read 28 here, but is this in reference to the 24 elders or martyrs who sit around the throne.

    👵Second, she noted that she was quickly whisked away from the scene of her “death.” What did they, whoever they are, not want her to see/examine about her so-called remains?👵

    Who whisked her away here?… “so -called remains?”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Regarding “I read 28 here, but is this reference to the 24 elders”
      You are right about the 24, yes.
      However, I took the reference in Revelation 19:4 to be a total of 24 plus the 4 beings also present with them to be “the 28 of the Council” in this story’s made up Council before The Most High. So a bit of poetic license here…you know how I do. ,,,hehehe

      Regarding “Who whisked her away?”
      This is reference to Chapter 16 early one therein where the scene quickly changed from the sky falling, raining fire to the boardroom, soon after Isabella “woke up dead” and destroyed the fist in the gilded gauntlet,
      Answer the 28 whisked her from that scene of the sky falling to the boardroom to make her their “offer” of giving her body/life back.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Ah yes my memory
        Sometimes its best just to hold a physical book in the hand.
        Paging back is so much easier
        And bookmarkings are the best.
        So it is the 28 who whisked her away.

        Ah I see what you did, a goid stimuli for me to read 19:4.

        There were also 24 thrones. I believe.

        Liked by 1 person

  11. 👵She exclaimed! “Holy sh_@@$, my “death” was an illusion. Even I believed it! Dear God who has this kind of power over the human mind!”👵

    So what happened here, was she hallucinating as in a lucid nightmare?

    👵In the distance, an army of warriors all with the sign of a goat on their helmets approached. The mounted horde moved faster than it seemed possible.👵

    And here, in which realm would she be
    Or still a nights

    👵Leading the charge, was the one Isabella recognized from photos in Egyptian history books, a giant with the head of a goat mask with three horns, barechested with the eye of Osiris in a triangle of gold necklace. It was Baphomet more commonly known as “the embodiment of all evil…”👵

    Teleported?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Regarding “So what happened here, was she hallucinating as in a lucid nightmare?”

      The 28 men are doing someting a litte bit beyond lucid dreaming. They are using Isabella in her real body as a puppet where they are manipulating her mind making her think and see what they want her to believe. Answer: She is in her real body with her mind making the adjustments to her body to adapt to her environment…e.g no oxygen etc. A study in the true power of the mind, if you will, to construct one’s reality,

      Regarding your other points… more of the story to come on those scenes!

      Liked by 1 person

  12. 👵He had noted with his keen ear tuned to the sound of an angel’s choir, that the voices of these twenty-eight “persons,” were not in precise sync.👵

    So Metty is also in another realm of revolt?

    Liked by 1 person

  13. 👵“She will figure out that it was you whoever you are —for you are not the real “Council of twenty-eight”— who orchestrated what looked like her physical death. And that this (Metty twirled his head in a half circle, for he was otherwise completely chained) is an illusion for she is not really dead but alive!”👵

    So she was briefly taken up in an out of body experience?

    Liked by 1 person

  14. 👵“You did not anticipate that your plan for Isabella would backfire. Your raggedy as@_s tricks increase her abilities. Now, she is fully aware. She knows that she can become “one” with the flaming sword, and you all are afraid of her, aren’t you, you bastards. I can feel it!”👵

    Oh my what a journey into awareness
    One with the sword.!!! Spiritual armour I would suppose?

    Liked by 1 person

  15. 👵And then, Metty held his peace. He prayed silently that Isabella wherever they had sent her, had figured out that she had been lured into a trap. And not just any trap, one orchestrated by ancient forces of evil…👵

    Well she has, she has unbeknownst to him?
    He should know, Metty must know?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Regarding Metty “should/must know” The author would like to think Angels are not all knowing as myth and legend portray them, Angels (the author believes), still have to respect human beings’ right to choose one path or thought pattern and life trajectory. And of course angels are created beings, so they are not all-knowing (the author thinks, anyways),

      Like

      1. Yes, I understand the author’s regarding the work of Angels, they are assigned or delegated to perform specific tasks, while the will of the human remains in the forefront.

        Liked by 1 person

  16. Superior, magnificently compose chapter – a battle between heaven annd hell – for the 8th January 2023, a heavenly revolt.
    NOW!!!
    What next for Isabella ?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. You are most kind. Thank you for your flourishing support and praise. It is humbling indeed.
      A heavenly revolt! what and idea!!!
      More to come for Isabella…

      Happy Sunday. Bliss and peace guide your day in the Light.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You are most welcome, as always a thought provoking and spectacular write, affecting all the senses of the reader.

        Blessings and a happy Sunday to you too.
        Thank you.
        Peace and Light.

        Liked by 1 person

  19. what a fun and intriguing story Suzette and I’ve only caught some.
    👏
    Glad she wasn’t dead but death by coffee and chocolate wouldn’t be half bad Suzette.. lol

    if I am dead in my physical body, how is it I can smell my favorite coffee brewing…what is going on!”

    🤣

    Liked by 1 person

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