The Unseen: an Invisible Evil: The Unbelievers Series

By Stevie Reno

It all starts when three great men are murdered. Society goes into a downward spiral, and all of humanity is left guessing about the existence of true evil. No one wants to acknowledge the existence of Satan or consider that he might be a part of their lives, yet Satan is a very present force on earth. Hes always watching, and the disbelief of people only increases his power.

Talk show host T. Stevens decides to boost her ratings by discussing the notion of good and evil on her program. She does her homework first. She learns all she can about Satan, and she pulls in hundreds of listenerspeople who desperately want to know if the devil has infiltrated their lives. But T. has no idea what she has set in motion.

She soon finds herself surrounded by mystery and deception. She worries she may now be the target of a supernatural battle, and she is right to be concerned. Demons fight for the souls of the living, and evil is winningby a landslide. Is there hope for humanity, or will Satans final victory spell destruction and damnation for all mankind?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Abbott Press
• Release date: Jun 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781458212900

Stevie Reno

Stevie Reno was born in the Bermuda Triangle. As a child, he was obsessed with Alfred Hitchcock films and Agatha Christie novels. He now serves as an evangelist, operating a street ministry and charity. He and his wife, Tamara Cherez Boyd, have two children and live in North Carolina.

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Copyright © 2013 Stevie Reno.

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ISBN: 978-1-4582-1291-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4582-1290-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2013921523

Abbott Press rev. date: 6/9/2014

CONTENTS

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Epilogue

About The Author

To Momma

Lois

With LOVE

DAYS, MONTHS, YEARS

…BEFORE…THE RAPTURE…

The Believers

The Reverend

PROLOGUE

DEATHS OF THREE GREAT MEN…

Red spirits appeared all around The Senator as he slowly waved at the crowd. To him, this crowd was not just a crowd; The people represented life, liberty, and the American way. The Senator waved complacently, as his dedicated wife sat by his side, as they enjoyed what was to be his last conscious ride…

He seemed to touch the people…He seemed to touch the lives of every individual around him…as he was a symbol of what America was…and what a stronger America was to be. But most of all, he represented the little guy…and the little guy knew it.

Red spirits of joy and happiness swarmed around the senator, for the last time…as three shots rang out; maybe more. For one split second, the crowd quieted; partly immobilized, partly spell bound. Then, pure chaos broke out…

In the wake…A CIA dead man. Red and blue spirits then swarmed his body. They also fought for his immortal existence. As for the senator, the red won the fight. His spirit was in good hands. But…was there a shadow, in the fore ground? Was it another shooter? Unknown…Unseen? Did it really matter?

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A great man intended to greet the press. Many people crushed the surrounding area. The man was routed by a Maitre D’ through a service pantry, soon after greeting kitchen help. A gunman suddenly sprang at him.

You S.O.B. cursed the evil; blue eyed killer…As he fired two shots.

The great man kneeled to protect his face, as the people grabbed the killer.

The great man fell onto his back…in the shape of a cross, as blood flowed and the red spirits of good came to collect his spirit; To protect it, even after death, from further evil of…the blue.

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There once was a Black man…whose name…well, really doesn’t matter. For, he would not have wanted you to remember his name. He would have wanted you to remember his message! Really there were two…

1.   Freedom and equality for all

2.   Non-violent protest…

Has the world heard?

On a peaceful day, in a southern town, a man with a message stands outside, on a balcony. A quiet shot isn’t heard.

Echoes of a memory, may have said…Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty! I’m free at last!…as the red spirits of red claimed in peace, his immortal spirit.

ONE

Violent crime was on the rise…and it wasn’t because of the climbing unemployment rate. It was because Man had become more and more vulnerable to stress…hate, jealousy, greed and evil. Yes, evil!

Balaam was his original name…Ezzelino was his Earth bearing name. He had the ability to predict and do great harm to Man. That’s normally how his predictions came true.

Once born on the Earth he was a tyrant…once dead, Satan took back what was his…his evil spirit. Which, by the way, now operated inside another being.

This one was not of human flesh, except for his face…one of them…for he had three faces; 0ne of a bull;0ne of a man and one of a ram. His werewolf body traveled on the shadows and dark clouds of Nature, unnaturally, on the back of a huge black burly bear, and always on his wrist he wore his companion, a hawk. His second pair of eyes…

This evil commander had two trillion demons to his command…and at his disposal at any time…75% of which had found homes inside the hearts and bodies of unclean humans, the other 25% of the demons were looking for homes inside unsuspecting man…and the demons were looking for homes…at all times.

They entered the bodies of Man through sin…or imperfection…and each imperfection had a demon leader…and each demon leader controlled millions of legions of even more demonic creatures…

Each generation of man was born with more and more imperfections…This left them vulnerable to the whims and lust of the demons. But only by the okay of the real Higher Power and unbeknownst to man; if he was not with the Higher Powers of good…he was automatically…with the lower powers…of darkness.

It was evil…that drew men away…but it was that same evil, which causes men to turn back…toward the Light!

Yet instill; it was the evil that swallowed up the people who damned themselves…by the deeds that they did…by the choices they themselves made…

And they bought Evil down upon themselves…And Hell enlarged itself… because Man chased the flesh and not the spirit!

Just like the Fallen Angels…who came down to Earth to have relations with the beautiful daughters of… Man.

And…Ezzelino, he used everything to his advantage. For by no means were demons unintelligent…They were actually smarter than the humans they possessed…

The spirits continued to have a ball…They roamed the atmosphere at will, jumping from human to human…Man, being both emotional and impulsive…was easy prey for any evil spirit…greedy for human misery…

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Four junkies ducked and dodged through the alley way and the back yard, until they reached their destination, the back door of a condemned building located on Elm Street.

This place was well known by most people in the hood as The Gallery, a junkie hang-out.

Hurry up fool one addict said to another, as he pushed to get in through the back door. I got people looking for me man he voiced as he stepped inside the semi-demolished dwelling. I’m in power he continued. I’m going upstairs where, I can spank in peace!

Hurry up man! We need some too…Fix me up uhh…uhh ball yo. Another addict pleaded back to him.

Alright he replied But get those funds right

Moments later…the dealer appeared at the top of the stairs, just after injecting himself with a speed ball (a mixture of cocaine and heroin). Suddenly his eyes closed, his legs gave-way, and the silhouette of a blue demon left his body…and he fell violently down the stairs. A violent end for a violent man.

After a fight for the gun, money and remainder of the dead man’s possessions…the remaining junkies cooked and split the dope.

Ole Boy, was just greedy. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ dis’ dope here! Needles in arms…they all rushed to push the new high into their veins. Looking for the ultimate high. They found it…as their faces changed from anxiousness…to happy…to fear to…dead!

Spirits came to collect…as other spirits came out of them. Righteous Spirits also showed up to battle for their souls, but there was no contest. The evil spirits owned the property…as they swarm their dead bodies…like flies…

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The big city streets of New York at 2:00 p.m. was crowded and congested as always; people were walking by the masses. It looked like a rock concert had just let out.

Out from the street and into a typical yellow cab, walked two guys. Just two guys who looked like ordinary, typical guys. Except for one thing; one of the guys was staggering and bent over. The other guy was also seemingly ill, but not as bad as the younger one.

The less ill one shouted to the driver Get us to the hospital will you! His friend seemed to be faint, and delirious, with rapid eye movement, and kept on saying Too much, too much, you gave me too much, man!

He saw his friend seem to change. He saw blue images, ghost like demons all around him. I’m hallucinating man, I’m hallucinating!

We gonna’ be alright, man, alright The other responded as he eased back into the seat. He too was beginning to see colors.

Two minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital. As he looked to the back seat to order his sick passengers out, he found two dead men.

Their eyes were still open, as if they refused to die…The cabby emptied their pockets, dumped them out the cab, blew the horn, and split the scene.

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Mr. Terrance, there’s a call for you, Sir. Line one. Ahhhh Mr. Drake. The secretary announced.

The business man responded after a deep nod. Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to be disturbed?

Sure, Sir…but he said it was an emergency she insisted with urgency.

Okay, patch him through, Sue Mr. Terrance responded. The business man nodded deeply again as he placed his newly purchased drugs in their secret place, inside his desk, first.

Yes, Mr. Drake…My secretary said that it was urgent

I just call to tell you, Sir; that last package you got. Well, I just found out. It wasn’t cut. Don’t use it! It’s to potent

Repeat that sir The dying man asked.

It’s over dose material. Don’t use it!

Too, late ended the business man as he hung up the phone.

Red and blue colors swarmed, around Mr. Terrance’s head and body. Inside the color he could see the evil blue spirits picking away at his heart. The red spirits seemed to be fighting back, knocking the blue spirits back…but only momentarily, as Mr. Terrance strained to buzz the secretary. But again the blue of evil, fought for control of his arm. And once again, the red forces of the Almighty met the challenge.

Sue, call the paramedics

Made it! Or did he, as his eyes of great accomplishment changed to eyes of death as the blue spirits continued to dominate his dead corpse…as his face fell to the desk..?

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Blanche set up in her bed. She sped up in anticipation…Blanche then tightened a near by rubber tube around her tiny left arm so professionally…that her veins appeared more visible immediately. Her slim body began to shiver for highness. As she removed the rubber tube from her numb arm…spirits appeared…red and blue; both, around her half nude body. They fought as Blanche’s troubled face pondered the situation.

What the heck is going on? she wondered, as she never got to ask another question. Her troubles were…over. Unfortunately, so was Blanche.

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What took so long? one guy asked the other.

Hey, I just buy it, I don’t make the stuff, you know the other guy responded, as he finished what was left of a tuna sandwich, throwing the wrapper into a can marked Central Park.

Let’s go, up there! pointing to an isolated area, of the park, where they could enjoy their drugs in peace.

Okay, let’s break as the Spanish guy led the way to a hilly area of the park.

The spirits had long gone by the time the park patrol found two dead stiffs

There was no evidence of the blue and red fire works that towered over the shrubbery, just minutes before, in battle, over the doom addicts. There was also no evidence of foul play.

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Spence shouted I’m just a typical American guy. Got a 9 to 5, a nagging girl friend and a small, some what shabby, all I could afford, apartment…"

But you have a drug habit argued Brenda.

Yeah, right, if you call a blast on the week end, every now and then, a habit defended Spence.

Yeah, right, just so happens; it’s turning out to be every week end, Mr. Spencer Brock she yelled, slamming the door.

You’re full of it Spence yelled back angrily, as he went back into the bathroom cabinets, pulled out an 8 ball and commenced to cooking up a hit. It’s free he thought, because he made it setting up sales for the real addicts, with real habits.

Drowning in woman problems, Spence chopped off a rather large piece of the rock and prepared to smoke it in his glass pipe, which was also under the bathroom cabinet, with the rest of his drug paraphernalia.

As Spence began to slowly inhale the white cloud from the pipe, the bathroom lit up red and blue. The spirits immediately fought for his eyes. Spence leaned down to sit on the toilet as he realized he was the one full of mess!

Spence saw his whole life flash in front of his face, as the blue spirits of doom…busted his heart…

No more weekends Spence…Brenda found him the next day…on the toilet.

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On the next T. Stevens Show…Something that could change your life…or save it! Are there evil spirits destroying our society? Join us and find out… She laughed as she saw her commercial on the tele.

T. Stevens was a beautiful woman of 35. Her wit and charm in combination with her blonde hair and blue eyes could hypnotize the good and evil in any man.

Not only did T have beauty and brains but she had something you didn’t find much of these days. The lady had personality and a heart as big as her bank accounts.

Right now, T had one thing on her mind; Doing her own home work. Are there evil spirits destroying our society? she pondered. Really?

T didn’t have one of the highest rated shows on television, by accident, or luck. She believed that if you wanted something out of life… You went for it. No excuses…"

And right now…I want all the information I can find on my own on Satan… she said to her fiancée, Steve, as she grabbed a sweater, leaving Steve kinda holding the bag.

And I know just where to finish looking she ended.

Is it okay, if I tag along?…Well, someone has to keep an eye on you…and keep you out of trouble… he smilingly gestured.

I thought you would never ask she smiled. Steve, you’re a real treasure. I could certainly use the company" T repaid him with a gentle kiss, just moments later as he opened the driver’s side door to her Mercedes for her.

T drove like a woman with a purpose…

Later…

After hours of reading…through dusty old books…at the University library

Here they are calling the devil, Sammael, Honey T explained "Sammael has 12 wings, and he is covered with eyes.

He is goat-like. He can shift his shape at will. He is a rebellious angel who flies through the air causing disease and death…

Human beings can defeat him only by following the Torah"

Now what in the world is the Torah?

Listen to this T. The Jewish devil is merely a character used to explain the evil doing of men… Steve read

What you read makes the devil sound like a fairy tale or something T added.

Yeah, and according to what you read, it confirms that, and it seems to blame Man himself for evil. Steve insisted.

That’s enough for today, Honey. You look exhausted! And remember, you do have a show tomorrow.

Okay, but let me ask you. Do you really think the devil is just a fable, a fairy tale? asked the blonde. Her blue eyes asking Steve as well…

"Honestly, I believe man has a natural instinct of self preservation…that demands food, shelter and clothing, and it is his nature to obtain and protect those things…sometimes…no matter what.

If someone wants to define that as evil, than that’s on them. I think it is easier to blame it on man himself than a fairy tale" Steve ended, as they left the library…

Steve was both honest and frank; that was one of the reasons T loved him so much.

Considering T was both beautiful and rich, one would think that she would have a rich, well cultured gentleman, but T didn’t think like that. Her fiancée’ Steve was an ordinary guy, who worked for a living. T didn’t love him because of his wavy black hair or brown eyes and strong shoulders.

She loved him now, because she fell in love with him…long before the rich and famous life style came about, that she enjoyed now. T loved him for him, and Steve, loved her for her…but that didn’t make him right…all the time…

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T entered through the door…under the sign that read Mother Maxwell’s

Enter…Theodora, what brings you to my parlor? The average looking lady stunned her.

How did you know my name? T asked.

Well, I am an authentic psychic my dear…but you know you come well informed. You want to know about things concerning the underworld…

T was both shocked and amazed…but only momentarily as she replied back…

So there is an underworld?

Yes, there is; but wouldn’t you like for me to save some of the answers for your show…for your television audience? Mother Maxwell asked.

How did you know? Ahhh…sure…but you must promise me one thing T demanded. You can’t call me Theodora on camera

She smiled as they shook hands. Oh by the way, I’ve been having those dreams of my death T added.

"Relax, I don’t see death around you, today. At least, not right now. She smiled a comforting goodbye…

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Violence and Crime in a Violent World. Big guy, little guy, fall guy…It didn’t matter. 2010, 1990, 1960, 1945; the exact year, date or time, none of that seemed to matter…either. Unbeknownst…by the general public an evil existed!

One of those evils was…a real warrior; a warrior of death. This demon of death controlled many legions of demons. Demon spirits whose orders were to corrupt men’s heart away from righteousness. Then, kill them…

Drugs were glorified by society…then taboo. Then once again, drugs became the thing to do. Regular users and closet users both fell victim, from productive citizens in society to…robots of the underworld.

No one was exempt; users and addicts of crystal methamphetamine, crack rock, ecstasy, uppers and downers…

The demons made it appear as if the users were self destructive human robots that had to have more at any cost, when in fact, they were victims. The latest victims of a drug crazed demonized society; a society that the adversary built. One of his