Reconciled in the End

Chapter 23: Working to death

Siren's thoughts seemed blurry one morning as she woke a few days after parting. It really struck her hard as she rose. Thomas had left for work and was gone most days from early morning to way beyond late at night. He merely ate quickly once home, showered, then slept. The strain of his job crushed him brutally.

Siren began working only in the middle of the morning until afternoon as she was forced to travel home alone now. Thomas just couldn’t keep up with gathering her every time. As scared as she was to challenge the streets, she knew she couldn’t place more strain on him.

On her off days, she felt listless, like today. She stepped downstairs. It was a rainy, colorless morning. Grey splashed the outside with a dismal design. She confessed she had so much time, whereas Thomas cursed one lost moment. She knew she ought find a constructive purpose with this overabundance immediately. She felt accountable for her time.

She sipped slowly on a shake she blended carefully while taking Bible up onto her Crown. She decided to sit by the window and watch the droplets slide down the glass. Feeling constricted and useless, she prayed hard for a meager use of her time. She also prayed Thomas wouldn’t be so strained, but there wasn’t a foreseeable possibility currently. War was around. Drones with bombs were even coming as far away as a hundred miles from the city. She prayed harder yet. Like the many droplets on the glass, these people, too, were aimless and lost, fueled with hatred and pride.

The World had sunk even deeper into chaos, filled with arguing and terror. Illness ran rampant about, killing people left and right. Mankind was war focused. They pushed aside these concerns.

Then, after a short time, came the drastic rise in the cost of living. Thomas and herself lived conservatively, stored rations beforehand because of Bible, and got by, but rumors of others starving in places around swirled in the news. Certainly, Siren saw similarities with Revelation’s seals. If they had been opened, four out of the seven might have already!

She drifted to thoughts of the people she did care about, the people she did reach. Praying for poor Peter in foreign territory, then to those two poor girls. They messaged her constantly. Frowning, she shook her head, a verse popped into her head in Romans ten.

For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? As it is written, How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things!

She bit her lip in conviction. Her idle time ought to be put to use, rather what was commanded to her by Bible as important. Warning people before it being too late for them as death approached anytime. The dilemma was whether she could now pursue this by connecting to the virtual world once again. It was the place to communicate with people, physical interactions were dangerous and infrequent as mankind’s focus was absorbed in their Crowns.

The asylum, concerned about much more pressing mental health issues, had forgotten and abandoned her supervision. They left things solely on Thomas and considered her rehabilitated on all accounts for society. Siren found this relieving in truth, the freedom very nice. She then cringed, recalling another verse in second Timothy four. Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.

Sighing as she wiped her face with trembling fingers, the conviction stabbed at her. The world was ending, chaos around her as these people were naïve to the real truth. She had the capability, in fact every experience, all her training, her very skillful mind seemed made for this very purpose. God gave her the idleness, even the right timing. Technology was her expertise, she’d advertise the message, or was it called proclaiming?

“Well proclaiming with perhaps a bit of severe warning now with the end as it is…” she muttered apprehensively.

Tapping her fingers restlessly on the tile, she murmured nervously, “Lord if this is to be so, please help me.”

She then stood up and approached Thomas’s desk. Although she had seen him many times on his Crown researching together and communicating, she hadn’t activated any such technology for years. Although she hadn’t touched anything, Thomas had still kept her very updated innocently.

Sighing, she decided to try a message to the very Task Master Himself. It would be an innocent, anonymous attempt, testing his thoughts on her motives. Taking his avatar of a white fox, she encrypted herself as that chosen form. Of course Thomas would see through such a familiar disguise immediately.

Because she merely would be proclaiming God and Bible, he most likely would ignore her benign attempt into the networks. She really wouldn’t need to hack anything and risked no loss. She’d be mere information. Only those that bothered to listen would heed her words. From reading Bible, that was how it had been done by the Christians of old, no flashy tactics, intricate hacking, or intellect needed. Just an open willingness to speak up, God did the rest.

She picked up her precious crystal Crown from its wondrous display. She had never activated it before. Oh was it speedy! After initializing its first start-up, she looked at the network in real-time, the stream of information pounded war and havoc. People in turmoil, dying, loss. Some paraded images of dead around their pages like a badge of honor, mocking the fallen.

Dropping her eyes, pornography flooded them. Thomas fought in this world for hours on end. His mind fought filth and cruelty shoved at him, how could he keep sane? Shaking her fox head, she began at once to post articles and aids to explain Bible. The whole day she wracked her mind on her project, consumed with conversation, starting a forum, the book of Revelation struck people’s interest. Although the hate responses were plentiful and extreme, she did have two or three meaningful chats.

In the evening, the little white fox looked up from her virtual proxy. A military uniform with a haunting, archaic, medical doctor’s mask loomed above her. That dark, worn beak pointed in a threatening, ominous way. Although there were numerous frightening avatars, people really liked that kind of aesthetic, this being’s intrusiveness put her on edge as it studied her carefully.

“I noticed your activity today. I’m on break. This sadly is the only free time I have to visit,” it spoke in an altered calm voice, “I’ve been missing you so much lately.”

Siren placed her virtual head on his lap as he sat down. She knew exactly who this was. Innocently she asked, “Am I in trouble?”

The tired voice replied, “No. You've been cleared awhile ago by the asylum.”

He sounded exhausted, and Siren wished he was allowed more sleep. He pat her head absently, he really needed a break. Siren pondered how long he could last like this, but the alternative of sending him to war frightened her more. Either option seemed deadly. At least this option he was beside her at night.

After fifteen minutes of this quiet time between them, Thomas groaned, “I have to go. Tonight though, I shall see you tonight…”

His voice seemed lighter as he thought on these ephemeral wishes. She rushed to nuzzle his hand as he left. “I will wait patiently. Please be stay safe!”

They maintained this routine daily, sharing their breaks together in the virtual, if not in person. Siren reasoned it like a fairytale curse, always longing for each other, but a strong force parted them. She knew the name of this curse however, ‘sin’, and they prayed together every day to chase it away.

Siren consoled herself with their breaks and snuggling tightly together at night. She also felt purpose struggling with the obscene masses. They nipped and tried to bring her down, but in absolute determination, she pushed on past their mean remarks to warn all she could. How many videos had she been sent with dead foxes in them? She lost count. The verse in first Peter chapter four struck her. Yet if any man suffer as a Christian, let him not be ashamed; but let him glorify God on this behalf.

She truly understood how much the ancient Christians of old had been martyred, how much they suffered! One particular man in the book of Acts, Stephan, prayed for his murderers as he was stoned to death. She knew her verbal abuse was nothing compared to that, but if these people knew her real face, she did wonder about how much physical harm would befall her. Anonymity kept her safe, but if that went away, the hate in them meant torture and death for sure. Revelation had foretold the likely possibility in this life until God judged all.