Shattered fetters and broken chains were scattered where the prisoner was once held. A trail of bloodied guards, some with snapped necks, others badly broken but barely alive could mean only one thing. The serial killer that they finally subdued has awoken, broken his chains and killed anyone in his way.
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Cold sweat ran down his forehead. Three of his buddies died brutally when the team managed to trap and finally subdue the monster. It took practically an army to take that supernaturally strong madman down.
The trail led to the graveyard. He turned back to spread the news.
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Lightning blinded him momentary before crashing thunder hurt his ears. Rain poured, flooding the boat. He gripped onto the side of the boat as, rocked by the waves, it threw him off balance.
"Don't just stand there, help us," his friend shoved a bucket at him, then proceeded to scoop water out of the sinking boat.
Land was miles away. It was way too far to swim to safety. They had to get through the storm.
It was a losing battle. The boat was filling up faster than they could clear out the water.
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In the midst of the chaos, heavy snores could be heard. How could anyone sleep through all this? Granted, the man had been up before dawn praying each morning, then working continuously from dawn to dusk every day, preaching, healing and helping anyone who approached him. He was clearly exhausted. With a schedule like that, who wouldn't burn out? Then again, who could possibly sleep through the din?
"Master, we perish!" His friends shook Jesus frantically, trying to wake the sleeping man.
The man stirred. He stood facing storm. In a thunderous voice, he addressed the wind, "Peace, be still."
The wind obeyed. The storm ended instantly.
Jesus turned to his disciples, "Where is your faith?"
