Left Behind Kids Fanfics

Before the Throne of God Above

Mark's eyelids fluttered. He had the vivid images of himself running from the GC, being caught, beaten, and beheaded. Of course, he thought. That's how I died.

His vision was surprisingly sharp and his blonde cousin was kneeling before him. "John," Mark said, rubbing his eyes and putting his hand out for John to help him up. "Long time, no see, cousin."

"Too long," John said as he helped Mark up.

Once he was standing, Mark looked around and noted the lack of people. "I thought heaven would be, you know, more populated."

John laughed and clapped Mark on the shoulder. "You're just in the tunnel, cousin."

"So, what do I do first? Reunite with family?" Mark looked at John, who gestured wildly at himself. "Oh, right. Never mind about reunion. But seriously though, what's first?"

John stopped walking at that moment. Confused, Mark looked at whatever John was looking at, which turned out to be a large wooden door.

"What's first," John said, "is to meet the one person you've always wanted to meet."

Mark sucked in a breath. "A face-to-face with the judge Himself."

"And trust me, cousin, it's the best part of it all."

Mark puffed out his chest and walked through the door. He wasn't sure he would actually pass through, but he was dead, so what harm could it do him? And when he did pass through, he wasn't exactly surprised.

The room was not quite what he expected.

Mark had expected a throne the size of Earth, glittering with the rarest of gems. He expected angels playing their harps, as often is the stereotype. He expected all the stops to be pulled out into making the most beautiful room of all rooms.

But, it was not as...bold as he'd imagined.

Was it still beautiful? Yes, very much so, but in a quiet sort of way. The throne didn't scream KING OF ALL, but it was God's style. It shone a beautiful light, a soft and bright light. It was not elaborate. The throne was simply made of rose gold, which glimmered God's many names as the light changed.

And the light changed with each step Mark took towards it. It seemed to get brighter, stronger, bolder, and more magnificent.

Mark had taken the rest of the room in a glance as he walked to the throne. No elaborations. White marble walls instead of gold. No floor. The floor...well, when Mark looked down, it was a cloud. And Mark could only laugh. And man, it felt so good to laugh. There was a desk. A desk that changed size, like the throne changed light. The larger version of the desk was twice as wide as Mark was tall and the length was four times Mark's height. Other than the small detail of size, the desk was simple. Rich and polished wood. Gold rectangle in the middle. And a very, very, very thick book in the dead center of it.

Mark turned his attention back to the throne. In all its beauty, it didn't quite seem what Mark would expect from a god, and not just any god, but the one and only God. And then Mark laughed again, because he knew it fit God exactly. "The God of all creation has such a...humbling throne."

"Mark Braedon Eisman," a voice reverberated off the walls. Mark swiveled his head towards the sound (not 360 degrees; no one could do that, even in heaven) and turned to see two men that hadn't been there before sitting at the desk. One was old and kindly looking, with a twinkle in his kaleidoscope eyes. The other was younger with a brown beard and hair. His eyes, like His father's, were striking, piercing even. But His...His were a much simpler color - blue. As the size of the desk changed, so did the men themselves. They morphed into one as well as into two and Mark, even now, couldn't understand it. But the bigger version was a King. A good one.