Author Steven Clark Bradley

NEW! - Nimrod Rising - Politically Speaking!

stevenbradley | April 24, 2008 22:11

Nimrod Rising and the Green God of America:
When you enter a bank in the United States, have you noticed the quiet and serenity in the space? There seems to be a reverence rivaling that found in most churches. It is easy to see that such a display of piety in the unassuming financial institutions across America is because they are practicing the country’s fastest, biggest and most powerful religion, the worship of the Almighty Dollar. It can be truly stated that God is now green in America. I wrote Nimrod Rising because of this devotion to this pious paper and pristine plastic that has plunged this nation and the world into the abyss of despair for the lives of the unborn, the infirm and the aged.

The World of Manassa Dormin:
Nimrod Rising transports the reader into a world of mayhem where unborn children do not contribute to a thriving economy, so their demise is of no avail. The world of Manassa Dormin, the villain in Nimrod Rising is one without mercy. Those of us who cannot work, cannot walk, cannot feed ourselves are unproductive citizens, and are discarded as so-much rubbish if they cannot demonstrate some utility to the masses. “Should they not just get out of the way and die so there is a bigger piece of the pie for everyone else?”

Utility or Futility:
Does this sound like lunacy? Quite possibly, such words are reminiscent of a page or two out of Orwell’s 1984 or Huxley’s Brave New World? In reality, these unspeakable new age “Values” are found throughout the pages of yesterday’s and today’s newspapers, all throughout the country! Fitting examples are inexhaustible all around us. Perverted pedophiles are abducting and raping our children at an all-time alarming rate and they receive sentences that allow them to return back on the streets in incredibly short amounts of time only to again steal our children out of their beds and finally kill them. Yet, if you are the chairman of Enron or WorldCom and you can expect anything between 25 to 200 years. That should not be seen as shocking. After all, the offering up of our unborn and growing children, our disabled and bedridden citizens and the early demise of our elderly pales in comparison to any premeditated sacrilege against the Green God of America. So, Nimrod Rising is a scary read. This is not because of the spirit world it describes or the evil men and women doing their mischief, but rather because the seeds of many of the diabolical deeds detailed in Nimrod Rising are only germinating today in society around us.

Quality of Life vs. Quantity of life:
Is all life worth living? Do the old, unborn, the infirmed or mentally ill have no social value? The proposed and not so secret response from the brokers of the culture of death is a resounding, “NO!” In fact, it is easy to see that the whole catalyst of the death culture is centered around one overriding maxim purporting that population reduction must be accomplished without delay and by any means.

Such culture transforming issues as abortion and such organizations as Planned Parenthood have led the way in what is considered to have changed the thinking of Main Street America in what now seems a permanently calloused culture and is considered as groundbreaking and deepening into a six-foot social grave. The money and power such groups wield are also powerful points of persuasion for the mostly lukewarm and milquetoast “leaders” who now control the present and plan our futures. Though abortion is by far the most widely debated issue facing traditionally valued Americans, there are many movements afoot that are not even so quietly laying their framework of treachery and social engineering that also use the premise of population control as their dictum.

The Government of The Culture of Death:
One of the big themes throughout Nimrod Rising is how the government of the world of Manassa Dormin is the power of the Euthanasia movement. Again, the forces of the culture of death are even now gaining great expanses of their foundation for their social house of cards, in the fertile mental ground in the American psyche.

Due to the message purported by a very loud minority to a passive majority that life is based on quality rather than quantity, the old, infirm and mentally impaired and their “safe” are even now being told to accept a “dignified” and “self-determined” death, which is considered one of the biggest pieces of the diabolical picture that is even now being sketched by the workers of woe within the Culture of Death. Matters such as the homosexual movement, assisted suicide, animal rights vs. human Rights, the environments movement and the dangers of socialized medicine in America and the financial constraints of such a program will place on the keepers of the very life you cherish the responsibility of isolating and identifying such drains upon the social banks of goodwill, within the society at large. These things speak loudly within the 596 pages of Nimrod Rising. Yet, it still remains that even the most docile and sanitized amongst us still require ears that hear and eyes that see.

Fact or Fiction:
Perhaps, you will say that such men and women described in Nimrod Rising do not exist. Then, take a look at many of the current leaders of the culture of death in America today. Though I am absolutely for planning a family and for the use of contraception, I would never support the use of abortion as a means of reducing the world's births. Margaret Sangor, the Founder of Planned Parenthood said herself, and I quote, "The most merciful thing a family does for one of its infant children is to kill it." She propagated wiping out the African American race and was a huge supporter of Hitler's views. Yet, today, her organization, with these goals, is supported even with federal dollars. George Felos, the attorney who assured the death by starvation and dehydration of Terri Shaivo in 2005, is the leading lawyer for encouraging assisted suicide and euthanasia of the infirm, the elderly on the basis of some vague standard of the quality of life.

Based on such a standard, would it not be logical to simply walk down the streets of our cities and rid the poor homeless of their lives devoid of quality? This is where such views eventually lead; to a place where no one has the right of self-determined longevity unless they possess some utility other than life itself? One need only use their mind to go beyond what your teachers taught you and let humanity speak to us and follow the statements to their logical end result. Nimrod Rising does just that and creates the unspeakable world that such current-day values will ultimately produce.

Perhaps, there are those who feel these words are far fetched, but I have been around the world in 34 countries and I can say of a truth that the family and life itself is at risk by those who no longer hold anything sacred or of lasting value. The story you are about to invest your time in shall speak its mind and challenge you in many different ways concerning the dangers facing us. We fight to preserve a nation from terrorism, but if this is what we are fighting to preserve, would you lift a finger in the defense of an obtuse and reprobate society as that which I have just described? Nimrod Rising goes a step beyond most books that seek to warn a society of its plunge into an abyss of despair and ruin. Nimrod Rising seeks to reveal that the true catalyst for the ideas espoused and widely accepted today. This world, hidden from human sight but as real as the hidden cells that give life to our bodies, extends beyond our own sphere. It wishes to pull down the kingdom of man to reestablish their rule of the Watchers on the Earth.

A Society Without Faith:
This is the world of Nimrod Rising. It is written as fiction and is based on reality. Therefore, I wish to dedicate this book to all the Theresa Shiavos of America whose unfortunate lives have run headlong into the merciless, unrelenting will of the false god in whom increasing numbers of common people have placed their trust, in this country today. This is not a book written against the liberals of this country. Nor is it a vindication of the political right. In fact, it is an indictment of both sides of the massive green beast that runs roughshod over friend and foe alike.

The real purpose of this book is to reveal the true nature of the culture of death that has come to pervade over every major decision we face. It has been penned to warn a great nation that a land is nothing without the care and mercy shown to its less fortunate. It is submitted to you to underscore that the measure of a great nation is not in its GNP or its S&P but in its TLC. On the contrary, the words written here have been tempered with fear and trembling for the nation I love. The indisputable facts laid out herein are written in shameful disgust over the failure of the moral base of America to adequately speak out and stand up to be counted. No great nation can long endure under the strains of the obtuse who seek to systematically destroy those whom our nation had so long defended, in a word you and me.

Learn From History or Repeat:
America threw its youngest and brightest into WWII to fight an intolerable tyrant and the idea that only the State could decide who was worthy of life. We fought and died to bring Adolph Hitler and his regime to an utter end because of his disrespect and utter disregard for life. Now, today, in America, we have Judges seated in a leather chair behind some large desk not making choices to help someone live but rather deciding who should die. America stood tall and brave against the forces of Communism because of just such an evil philosophy as this, which religiously and progressively marched its people to a dreaded drum right to the very precipice of death and defeat; a defeat brought about by our commitment to freedom and life.

Ride The Storm Of Nimrod Rising:
Yet, today in America, are we really better than those we destroyed? Are we really different? Perhaps the Nazi movement and the Communist ideals are not so much dead as they are renamed Republican or Democrat and recast in more benign and more beguilingly subtle silhouettes; wrapped up in a tattered swath of red white and blue and empowered by a document that no more represents nor resembles the original constitution of the United States of America than did the Communist Manifesto or Mao’s Little Red Book! The diabolical forces at work in Nimrod Rising are the seeds of destruction in America today and must be rendered powerless.

How Shall We Then Live:
We cannot stop them from speaking out, lest we defeat the very freedom we seek to preserve. Yet, we must always be vigilant and ready to work against them by recognizing the forces at work, and the masters they serve, which make up America’s emerging culture of death, lest none of us have any quality of life. It is imperative that we take another look and reaffirm the words of Philosopher, Francis Schaeffer when he said that there is no life that is not worth living. If we believe that, then we should pose ourselves the same question he asked, “How shall we then live?” Come and ride the storm of Nimrod Rising. It might scare you to life!

Steven Clark Bradley
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Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part Two

stevenbradley | April 24, 2008 20:18

Recently, I heard former British Prime Minister Tony Blair respond to the question, why God is so important. I was so impressed with that courageous man's response. He said, "Because it reminds us that there is someone bigger than us." Yet, I pondered his words that had so stricken by their brevity and their profound simplicity. It left me to pose another question. How do those of us hold onto the power of a society which opposes everything we value as essential? What happens to a nation where so many common wrongs are now commonly accepted and practiced? We have failed to realize that man always arrives at the most amazing ways of placing his fellow man into bondage and terror. Our freedom is derived from God.

The clash of ideas in the world around us is not of this world. The forces of darkness are stripping away the truths we had held as as fact and are now unknowable or irrational in the pagan dens of the ever-expanding Culture of Death. Do you feel it? Can you see it around you. The war is out there, not yet revealed to the eyes and thought of man.

In Legion of Ants - Part One you saw the commencement of a transformation, only the beginning of a force that would come over him to propel him to the very zenith of global power!

Now, as you read Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part Two Feel the intense darkness, the deepest feeling that knowing what was taking place was of much greater danger than going the way of all the Earth in total ignorance. As Alex walks into his destiny, feel his confusion, his fear, his desire for more...He is the Peygamber,the prophet to come the Prince of the Power of the Air, the old Serpent in the form of mortal flesh, the son of perdition! Read on, find out what true fear is. It is not for the faint of heart!

Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part Two

The ants seemed more spread out over the ceiling than usual. It seemed they had formed pockets of ants in different locations. Alex had never seen them leave their perfectly straight line of activity before. The picture seemed to be forming into the perfect battlefield. Alex had been raised in a very strongly Christian environment. He was brought up to love and fear Elyon, and not the god of this world of strong smells, harsh people and Allah. It had been demonstrated to Alex that Allah the devil. Islam was the perfect imitation of the truth in that it was the exact opposite of it. Elyon had never ordered His people to kill the innocent. Those times throughout the centuries when the innocent were killed in the name of Elyon were not at the command of a God of love and mercy. This was a religion devoted to a God who took joy in the slaughter of infidels! Allah was the Elyon of the religious and deceived hiding the person of Lucia behind the faith of Muhammad, who without the slightest whim of consideration would, if Alex got off the narrow way, beat Alex as a spike into the sand all the way down to Tenebre!

“Why would I serve a Savior set out to do me some eternal harm?” Alex mumbled to himself.

He had a suspicion that his guide had read the book wrongly. His doubt was a temptation from the evil one! It was a lack of faith on his part! It was a blasphemy to think in such ways. Very much like an anti-Christ!

“It’s always wrong to think like that!”

Yet, think he did. He loved to, especially, when he was on his way to a nocturnal nirvana. His eyes would close, open and then close again.

“HA! HA! HA!” The voices echoed back at Alex and were all around him! “My dear master, you are no Alex! You are Dormin, the Seed of Nimrod!”

The voice was distinctly Pakistani. It had that wave, roll and intonation.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong man!”

The hands projected directly in Alex’s face, pulled apart and grew claws and leathery charred skin. One horrid hand came close to Alex’s mouth and extended its first revolting finger over Alex’s mouth while the other curled its gnarly fingers around Alex’s throat and thrust him directly
face to face with the power of Satan!

“Silence! You shall speak no more! Peygamber has many things to learn.”

“I’m sorry, but…”

“Silence!” the angelic beast cried out, “You must listen! There is far too much fervor and pride in you! It is what kept you from being available to the master. It must be instilled deeply in you!”

Alex felt himself propelled somehow to somewhere else. He pulled on his right arm, then the left. They would not move. They were fastened to a chair. His feet were in shackles. He felt cold. Then he realized he was naked.

“Let me go! Who are you? Where am I?”

“SILENCE!” A troll-like creature erupted like the roar of a thunderbolt!
~~~
Alex took his bearing on the room, which surrounded him. The room seemed large. It was dark; very dark. There was a window open behind him. The strong gust of air through the window blew the curtain over Alex’s head, sliding off and blowing back again. He was alone. There was an aurora around him, a presence that was so powerfully overwhelmingly evil that the hairs on his arms stood straight up. The moonlight cast its strange shadows through the window behind Alex. Alex saw the silhouette of a woman to his left.

“Alex!” A feminine voice called out. The two hands appeared in front of him.

“You are pure energy, O Seed of Nimrod!”

The hands pulled apart slightly and Alex could see some kind of electrical current dancing between the two palms.

“Learn to use the energy to bring about the day of the Master.”

Out of the darkness of the room that had engulfed Alex’s space, he heard the girl’s voice again.

“Manassa Dormin! I am so blessed to bear your seed!”

Alex recognized the voice.

“Sally! Is that you?”

Suddenly, Sally was there! She walked over to Alex and straddled his body, reaching down and kissing his neck, his face and lips. She whispered in Alex’s ear.

“Your seed shall inhabit the whole Earth, Dormin, oh seed of Nimrod. Give me your seed that I may have its fruit cut from my womb to the destruction of the plans of Elyon who stole the master’s heritage.”

Sally took Alex all the way. Alex writhed in pleasure, feeling sweetly soiled. The unfathomable voice cried out in the thick dark night.

“Feel it! Your energy has given her to you!”

Alex looked at Sally as she moved rhythmically over him, reeling her head back and forth, her gleaming, black hair blowing back in the wind that paraded through the window. Alex exploded inside her and he heard her uttering an approving moan.

“Oh Dormin, I am so blessed to bear your seed!”

Alex looked at her and saw her face change into the face of a demonic creature. Straddled atop of him she was laughing and hissing and breathing out a putrid smell, a creature that appeared more like a beast than a woman.

“He shall appear as his subjects, but he shall bear the soul of the Master! HA! HA! HA!”
Alex began to scream very loudly.

“Get off of me! You are of that evil one! Get away!”

Alex struggled hard to get loose from the chair where he was bound. The ropes burned his wrists and the shackles bruised his ankles badly as he fought to get the evil thing off of him! The beast on top of Alex stuck out its slithering serpentine tongue and began to lick Alex’s face.

“Get away from me!”

Alex cried out, as he sought to get away from the putrid, horrid thing that had perched itself atop of Alex’s legs. The two hands reappeared again. When the palms came apart, a bolt of lightning shot out from between them again. Alex was still fastened tightly in the chair, but he found himself now seated in the middle of the mission compound kitchen, looking down as though through a fisheye
lens. Then, as if looking through the lens of a camera that was panning throughout the whole area, the kitchen was revealed foot by foot. The focus changed. Alex was looking directly into the pantry. It was run by one of his team members, Chris Harris, a prudish middle-aged British woman whom Alex literally confessed hating to Elyon on a daily basis. She always derided him, criticized him and made him literally want to kill her at times! The pantry was stocked full of canned goods, rice and milk powder. In the washing area of the kitchen, the camera-like view revealed the dishes, pots and pans stacked high in the drying basin. The panorama shifted back over to the cooking area.

There was that distinct smell again. Alex remembered it from his vision during the prayer meeting earlier in the day. Alex looked at the stove. It was ablaze. Smoke rose up out of a huge pot used for
preparations for the whole Vineyard team.

‘That smell? The odor of human flesh again?’

It made Alex feel sick and afraid. Beads of sweat rose up over Alex’s face. His eyes were stretched wide open; so widely that if he strained them any harder he was sure they would pop right out of their sockets! Alex looked more intently at the pot. The scene seemed to shift at Alex’s desire.
The pot over the stove came closer and when it got into the position for Alex to look over into it, Alex screamed! Chris Harris’ head lay boiling face up with her bulging terrified eyes staring straight up at Alex with her body parts arranged in order around the skull.

“Chris! Oh my Elyon! No!” Though Chris Harris was not one of Alex’s favorite members of the team he had never really considered killing her, or had he? Their personalities had simply just never jelled. The sight and awful shock, which had overtaken him, was replaced with an almost glad contentment in Alex as he saw her. Her throat was cut and pulled back. Her arms and legs had been torn off and lay neatly arranged around her torso.

“Please! What does all this mean?”

“It is how you feel! Is it not what you desired so many times, my Peygamber? It is simply the way you really view things from within, is it not, my master?” a voice rang out. Alex looked around trying to see who was speaking. He began to sob and wail. He wanted to disagree, but he knew that it was actually true!

“Why is this happening?”

Alex felt sure that he was dreaming, but he had a nagging aching feeling that it was far more than just some common dream! It was a message. Alex wanted to understand it. Alex had done a lot of soul-searching for ways to rid himself of his murderous hate for this nagging fanatic. Looking from his invisible panorama, Alex could see himself enter the kitchen. He searched for and found a small bowl and then went to a refrigerator. He took out some leftover curry and recalled her harsh words to him from a couple of nights earlier.

“Please! Chris, you are not my mother!”

“Thank God!” He had thought to himself.

“Well you certainly need one! Wasting the Lord’s provisions by eating when it just squirts out both ends!”

“I hate that woman!” Alex confirmed to himself.

“What are you doing in the Lord’s refrigerator again?”

Alex saw himself trying to hide the food from Chris. “Chris, I found a small puppy and he’s hungry!”

“You will most certainly not give the Lord’s food to some cur!” Chris exclaimed. “The human vermin scarcely deserve it. They complain when I give the cat a piece of meat that we certainly could never eat, but I felt it was good enough for them. Take that hopeless animal away to just die. We are here to save souls, not fill their bellies, human or otherwise!”

“You’re a British Twinkie, Chris! You’re a prude, a…” Alex had a much better choice of words, but he only thought them, never proclaiming them.

“Well! I never…!”

“And you probably never will! I promise you!” Alex walked out of the kitchen without the curry.
Alex seemed to be looking out of someone else’s eyes. Alex pulled on his bound arms to see if he was still bound. He was still tightly secured. Alex saw the hands reach over to the handle of a cabinet. The man pulled on it and it slid open. Alex saw someone’s left hand pick up a very large
butcher’s block.

“What are you doing? Wait!” Chris begged.

In his vision, Chris pleaded as the man approached her holding the butcher block in his hand.

“NO! Please don’t do this! I’m Sorry! Take it all! Please! NOOO!”

He grabbed Chris by the hair and swung the heavy weapon hard, hitting her in the neck and semi-decapitating her. Alex could now only see a pair of hands holding Chris by her hair. Alex could see drops of sweat falling in front of the eyes out of which he was looking. The hands were cutting Chris Harris’s body, arms, legs, head and torso. The killer’s hands hacked off the last arm and picked up the torso and placed it in the large pot. Alex saw this stranger in his vision place the limbs and head neatly around the center torso. The scene didn’t concern Alex as much as his sheer lack of sympathy did. The right hand then took a book of matches and struck one on the side of the box with the left hand. The flame ignited beneath the pot with a large echoing sound throughout the room. The flame was set on high.

Through the eyes of the killer, the kitchen began to speed past Alex’s sight. He understood that the killer was leaving the kitchen and going into the bathroom. Alex saw it all as it transpired. Suddenly, the hands reappeared. The killer must have been looking down at his hands. They were stained red from the killers’ homicidal exploits. The left hand reached over to the cold-water faucets. The water sprang out boiling hot. The right hand took a bar of well-worn soap. Soon the hands were covered with a reddish white lather. The killer put the soap down and began to turn the left hand over the right and the right over the left. The killer rinsed his hands and took a towel. Alex was staring at the towel rack. His view began to rise up the white washed wall from the sink to the mirror. Alex’s head began to race. His extremities became numb, and he pulled hard on the ropes and shackles that held him tightly. When the killer’s face appeared, Alex let out a bloodcurdling cry. Alex saw himself in the mirror!

“No! Please! No! That’s not me! I couldn’t do something like that! OK, I hate her…many times I’ve wished she were dead, but…?”
___________________________________________________

Is it really hard to see that something sinister is afoot? All around us, in every country, on every face, there is a knowledge that everything has changed. Watch this video and see what Steven Clark Bradley's new novel, Nimrod Rising describes and the very plausible scenario that may be playing itself out in the very day in which we live. This video will ,ake you think!

(Turn Down The Volume - It's loud!)
Watch - Are We At The End Of Our Days?
___________________________________________________

“My dear Sheik, do I not recollect a certain time when you said, ‘If I could kill someone without Elyon knowing, and with cops to fend off, it would be her!’? Is that not correct?”

Alex looked up harshly at the fallen cherub. He almost snarled in anger.

“How do you know so much about me?”

“My dear seed of Nimrod what am I, Chopped Liver? I am Abaddon, the keeper of the abyss, servant of him who is the power of the evil odious air, the Son of the Morning! Do you want to hear him roar?”

Alex squinted as the vicious cry exploded into the dark large room where Alex sat bound hand and foot viewing these unspeakable images!

“You are Satan’s demon!”

“In the flesh!” retorted the beast, bowing and ginning widely and showing his jagged teeth beneath a snarling smile.

“I rebuke you in the name of the…”

“Of Elyon, you will say?” Abaddon queried. “We all know Him well; better than you ever will! We all served him mightily!”

The silence in the room was horrific! Nothing could be heard except for Abaddon’s voice. There was a certain hum resonating throughout the room. It was as if there was so much diabolical power in the room that it made the molecules rattle! Abaddon looked into Alex’s face. His foul, hot breath burned Alex’s stomach and face, making him scream.

“We all served Him, Elyon that is! He is an egotistical…!”

“We had it all, it was ours and I was the keeper of the realm! Do you get that?”

Abaddon drew closer to Alex and grabbed him by the hair and stuck out its tongue and let it slide across Alex’s face. The touch again burned Alex’s skin and he wanted to pass out!

“I was the keeper! It was the master’s temper that caused it! One little spot of iniquity and we were out! No mercy! No tolerance! Not even the slightest bit of leeway! Don’t ever think you know Him better than I! It is not mere words, my chosen one that can sweep away the forces of darkness! You must believe and you do not! So, go ahead! Call on Him; that cursed Creator!”

Alex closed his eyes. He wanted to make himself wake up but he seemed locked into this nightmare. He was in this chair, naked with his face filled with the foul odor of the demon’s breath. The demonic guardian flew over to Alex and landed on top of Alex’s legs. The corrupted Watcher’s claws dug deep into Alex’s skin. It showed its fangs and drew close to Alex’s face. Its nostrils were expanding and constricting.

“You know my master! You know him for he is with you! His seed has followed you to this moment all the way back to Nimrod and beyond him to the time when the Watchers cohabitated with the daughters of men! You cannot see it all now, but you will feel it, you have felt it and you will rule over it and use the power to take back your kingdoms and principalities and powers! There is but one force that cannot pronounce the word, “relent.” We will never give in! We will never surrender! We will never bow down! We have fought since the day your kind was formed from the dust of the Earth! We insist on all! Because we want our land! HA! HA! HA! We do not simply want to thwart the plans of that unjust Elyon. Before, we were His plan! His eye was upon us! Then he built the
extension and we resisted, refusing to submit to the likes of such weak and needy things as humans! We said “no” and have not relented since the day we took the battle of Elyon to the very door of the Palace of Elyon! You shall produce the key, the progeny, and the one who shall regain our
previous status and then we shall cast down this traitorous creator and His king and my master shall sit on the sides of the North as he once did! I am the keeper of the master’s pit. You are his servant, His warrior, His victor to regain what is His alone and you are his Son!”

Alex began to twist and turn violently in his captive throne. Abaddon roared. “It is not yet time to awaken!” he added. Out of the dark, four naked spirits rose up from the ground directly in front of Alex holding smoking vessels in front of them. When they got to where Alex was sitting, they took the smoking pots and poured out their contents over Alex’s head, back and abdomen. Alex looked up as the first vessel was tilted over top of his head, Alex could see what was inside and what was about to flow out over his head, into his face and down his back and torso. Slowly, steadily and horribly, boiling, hot pitch was about ready to induce its scalding effects on Alex’s body! The molten lava-like pitch attached to his skin and burned deep holes in him throughout his body. One, two, finally, in all, fifteen vessels of pitch were poured out over various parts of his body. Alex screamed, yelled, pleaded and threatened. The mist-like spirits proceeded to carry out their mission of corruption. Alex was sure that he had died and was in Tenebre!

“You have to feel the master’s pain of having been created the most beautiful of creatures and now turned into an evil creature with maggots eternally following him under his feet and ants and bugs throughout his body. How he once loved to behold himself! How we all loved to praise him! He was not satisfied. He wanted more! Now look at me, I was white, gloriously-winged and I chose my Master because he is my kind, my kindred and he will reign again through you! You must feel his pain of having been denied his heritage, His inheritance! This war must be continued, not commenced! For the war has been raging since the day Elyon breathed life into frail bodies of earthen clay! The great day when the power of Lucia shall be unleashed into the world of the blinded is at hand and the Master shall have all sway in the matter of the created and of that which has been from everlasting to everlasting and in what will be no more! You are the 665th generation and progenitor of him who shall embody the mark of the Lord of Evil! Your Seed shall shake the foundations of the Earth and cause the nations to tremble and the high place to crumble to the ground. Your fruit shall scrape up its residue and deliver it all at the Master’s feet!”

Alex pulled up sharply from his chair. It did not move. The demonic watchman responded smugly while watching Alex out the corner of his eye. The four naked spirits took the shape of frogs and took hold of Alex’s mouth and pried it open! Each of them crawled down Alex’s throat. The last one leapt into Alex’s mouth and roared loudly as it slid into his body.

“They shall reside with you and in you until the appointed time when you shall make use of them. You see, I keep the gates of Tenebre. I have much time on my hands!”

The demon lunged out and grabbed Alex by the neck. “I’ll be watching you closely! I know how you think, what makes you tick. I watch all of them much more than they would ever care to watch themselves in the mirror. You, Sir, we never take our eyes off of you. You are the provider. You are the male conspirator in the conception of a new order. Through you, shall he come to take the thing in hand and reshape it to my master’s liking! Oh! My peygamber!”

Alex began to heave the captive throne in which he was bound to the right and to the left while rebuking Abaddon in Christ’s name. Abaddon roared with the echoed voices of a thousand hungry lions.

“The Lord rebuke me, Manassa Dormin? I am sure he does! The words you utter are powerful, but not from one of our own unless you really believe them as more than some catchphrase.”

Suddenly, the room lit up with the sounds of roaring, howling and hissing of screaming wild beasts!
“My prophet, now there’s some tough noise if you want some. You will learn to frighten the dead but not with such Christian mumbo-jumbo, my peygamber. There have been a few that have uttered those words and the gates of Tenebre rumbled and clattered! That has not been so for a very long time indeed, and they are fewer than you might guess! Now, just listen to my master roar!”

Abaddon tilted back his head and closed his yellow and red glowing eyes as though he were listening to a symphony orchestra. The sounds of thousands of ravaging roaring lions in search of prey slowly changed into the sound of the call to prayer from the minarets throughout the Muslim world!

“Allah Wakbar!”

“You can call the Master Lucia, the Devil, Satan but the very best one is Allah! They are all the same. He is not picky my seed-giver! He only has one desire, the destruction of the name of Elyon! You must corrupt these servants of my master and mold them into a Swarm of warriors, religious zealots without the spark of the life of Elyon’s faith! His book declares it even! Out of the pit shall come forth a Swarm of locusts, with the hair of women and crowns on their heads! These are the vermin, attached by the name of Allah!”

Alex understood that this beast spoke of terrorists that should overrun the globe. They had hair like women, they had turbans for crowns and they were vermin who could infest the globe with their savaging hordes.

“The Master’s voice is all of this and more! I should know, I’m the keeper of the abyss. He has declared that the time has arrived for the retrieval of the heritage that was denied him by a weak, compassionate and merciful creator, oh the Devil with it!”

“I want out! This is not real!” Alex cried, shaking his head back and forth, choking out his words. “The Lord…! The Lord rebuke…!”

Alex was unable to complete the one sure-fire phrase that he was told would chase away the wily devil. As though stubbornly declining Alex’s brain’s impulse, the words refused to be uttered! Abaddon levitated over to Alex and bent down to meet Alex’s eyes with its own.

“It’s not time to wake up yet, Manassa Dormin, my seed-bearer.”

Suddenly, out of the recesses of the infective darkness, Alex saw forms of 15 spirits flutter towards him. Each one held a bucket full of hot pitch in their left hand. Seven of them held scrolls in their right hands. The misty images floated over closely to Alex. Alex looked unbelievingly at the vision before him. As he looked up, he saw the buckets raised and tilted over. Alex quickly covered his face in his palms as the sticky, hot, black, boiling liquid dropped to the back of his head. Each spirit poured out the contents of their buckets onto Alex’s head, back and arms. Alex screamed in agony as the scorching tar streamed slowly down his body. Three entities took handfuls of straw, insects and garbage and hurled it onto the pitch. Alex’s body appeared as though it were decomposing. The
insects that clung to the tar fought violently to escape. Alex screamed loudly and begged the keeper of the abyss to let him go.

“You must learn to deny the pain. He must dispose of all feelings of pity, mercy, grace and forgiveness! He proposes, He requires, He requires calamity and dissension! He wants his heritage! The Master has appointed you as the provider of the seed of his vindication! Your seed, the son of
evil, he shall be the key into the Garden of Jehovah, blessed be His name. The fruit of your loins shall bring the end of your race (long overdue, mind you) and return it to the Master’s kindred! Your son, he is the new man; the body of a man, but the soul of Lucia! Your moment of destiny is upon you! Now, go back home! I’ll be just out of the corner of your right eye!”

Alex’s eyes suddenly sprang open so fast they seemed frozen and unable to close. His sweat-drenched body began to rustle on his sunken mattress. When his mind had sufficiently reoriented itself, Alex opened his eyes and thrust his torso forward into the sitting up position. He rubbed his eyes slightly and looked down on the bed. It was covered with dead ants. There wasn’t one ant left on either of the walls, nor on the ceiling!

Alex felt an itching, tingling sensation over his back and chest areas. When he felt the irritation he suddenly realized that it didn’t feel good at all. It was more like a burning feeling that was slightly worse than that from the sun. Alex looked at his stomach. It was red and blistered. Quickly, he took a small mirror from beneath his bed. He held it up at an angle to look at his back. It too appeared to have been sizzled on a grill for a short time. Then he noticed his wrists. They were scraped and bruised. His hair was full of straw and sticks and he pulled out a moving, living roach out of his hair. The dream came back to him. He remembered the chair, the ropes. He remembered Sally. He looked at his wrists and ankles. They were black and blue and rubbed raw.

“What does all this mean?” Alex asked himself, still looking in the mirror at his back. Alex noticed something strange about his face. No, it wasn’t his face. It was his eyes. It was his right eye, to be exact! Alex stared more intently at his eyes. There was something in his right eye. He looked at it intently in the mirror. The right eye grew clearer. Attentively, Alex brought the eye more closely into the left eye’s view. There! In the corner! Alex saw it. He could almost feel it moving! He was sure he heard it laughing, sneering and roaring ever so slightly in his ears, especially in the right ear. Then it was there! The name came to Alex just as the thing popped into view.

“Abaddon!”

“Forget the girl Alex! You’ve got a world to dismantle, ha-ha!” Abaddon said out of the corner of Alex’s eye. “When you’ve finished with her, she’d better just die and get out of the way! She could be trouble! You’re never going to be alone again, my Sheik! Salaam Alekum!”

Alex walked over to the sink to wash the mess out of his hair. He glanced at the mirror and the there was something written on it in blood.

“It was all in your heart Alex. I swear to…I swear! Today you are really going to make a really grand exit, and a powerful entrée into a new world, don’t you think? Hope I didn’t scare the Tenebre out of ya! NO! Don’t do that! HA! HA! HA! Scare the Tenebre out of you! That was a good one, don’t you think?” Abaddon disappeared. Alex dropped his head to the sink and wept. He would not weep again! He opened his eyes and found himself planted deeply in his sunken mattress staring up at the legion of ants going about their endless mayhem on the ceiling overhead. He looked to the right with his eye and screamed in horror.

“You belong to us now!” the creature proclaimed. Alex could not scream again for his wrists were bleeding and he knew he had encountered the evil one. He was no match for it. He had a world to dismantle!

You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites:
Steven Clark Bradley's Stories That Read You!
Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
Steven Clark bradley inspiredauthor.com/promotion
Steven Clark Bradley - Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Blog Talk Radio.com
Steven Clark bradley at Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Inspired Author.com

All of Steven Clark Bradley's novels are widely available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you read these exciting stories now.

Amazon.com
booksamillion.com
powells.com
bordersstores.com
barnesandnoble.com
copperfields.com

Nimrod Rising - As Real As It Gets!

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Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part One

stevenbradley | April 24, 2008 19:21

Have you ever wondered what was here before us? Is the world we see around us all there is? Do you look around and feel the squirming on the inside of your stomach that tells you that everything is not as it seems? Whether we admit it or not, if we sit and think profoundly and look at the dissolving world system around us, we come to an understanding that there are forces at work all around us that mean us woe and seek to rob us of hope, faith and peace.

We all know about the life we can all see, touch and feel. What about a world that is as real as the air we breath; but one which is hidden from our sight and as real as the invisible battles going on around us at every moment for the world, the future and for the souls of men and women? Inside Nimrod Rising will give you visual look into a book that could be one of the most important books you will ever read! War, terror, political upheaval, are these simply random acts of intrigue and violence? Or, is there an invisible war between the forces of good and the forces of evil that soon will not be so invisible anymore?

Read Legion of Ants and witness the transformation of a pseudo man of faith into a true follower of the forces of darkness which fully intend to wreak havoc in this planet that we call home and which Lucia, the prince of the Nadir, who resides and encompasses the darkness of Tenebre. This portion of Nimrod Rising will shock and amaze you and make the hidden forces arrayed before us feel more real than we ever wanted to know. I know this chapter will make you want to read Nimrod Rising to the very end of a book that is as real as it gets, If You Dare!
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Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part One

“I was Alex’s best friend and sometimes his worst enemy. I know he was attracted to me. I was thin, long-legged, big-busted, dark skinned and beautiful. These legs don’t work anymore now, but then, I was a distraction. Elyon has forgiven me, but I knew it too! I was one of those Messianic Jews. That was the mark that made me the chosen vessel of his evil! I know I very often made him have wicked, evil thoughts. I am sure that he had been victorious over his libido mostly, except on rare occasions; he was forced to take things into his hands when he had undressed me far too much in his mind and had always convinced himself that he had had no alternative. It was not sexual. It was something far more sinister and evil. These things I am telling you tonight were related to me by him directly, before he…before he hurt me, robbed me, took me, you know what I mean…”
~~~
“Alex! Come back to us!” Sally cried. Alex was quoting scripture and trying to comprehend what had happened to him during the prayer meeting.

“Temptation is not sin!” Alex told himself.

“I can do all things through Christ who…” Sally interrupted him, “Alex! Are you OK? What happened in there?”

Alex turned his face away from her. He was sure it was covered with perplexity and terror!

“Me? I’m fine. I had a touch of malaria last night. I took some stuff for it. Guess it’s taking its time working.” Alex shook his head in disgust.

“Sickness is of Satan!”

“Yea, maybe?” Sally responded. “But dead missionaries are not very useful to Elyon, Alex! You should…”

“I know! I should take it every day.”

Alex knew that he had been taking it, but he also knew that pills could not cure what he had just suffered, and it was not malaria. He was not even sure that prayer could cure it now. That is unless this was some strange new strain that caused horrific hallucinations. Sally gawked at Alex. She knew it too!

“You need a better place.” Sally insisted.

“Hey, no problem! I’m just roughing it a little.”

“A little! What are you trying to prove, Alex?”

“Hey, Henry Martyn did it! He preached the gospel right here in Lahore!”

“Yea, and then promptly died at the ripe old age of 28 too!” Alex seemed to close himself off from Sally’s words.

“For me to live is Christ and to die is…”

“Stupid!” Sally interrupted.

“Sally, that’s a bad attitude! My times are in His hands!”

“And to rush it up is sinful too!”

“You like me don’t you?” Alex interjected smiling.

“Yea, I do, you over zealous fanatic. I like you a lot! Is there something wrong with that? Alex, you’ve been changing a lot lately. If you have a problem, tell me! I’ll be there for you!”

“I can see the way you feel. You see, what you really need is the world that you cannot see! You know the Vineyard doesn’t allow us to see so much of each other alone.” Alex responded.

“I mean we are human and some of these rules are overbearing. I’m not trying to get you in my bed or anything, but you are in my heart!”

Alex’s face turned red, partly because he had imagined it so many times.

“What did I just say?” Sally turned her head to not reveal her red face. She turned her head back and spoke directly to Alex.

“I, I mean, you’re a man. I’m a woman! A man is attracted, at times transported toward a woman. A lady has already understood that the man likes the woman, you know! Gives him no signals except a certain little flash of the eye; just enough to let him know he definitely still has a chance!”

“So that’s how it is, huh?”

Alex seemed to be looking out of his eyes sideways, simply out of the extreme corners of the eyes.

“You decide, Alex.”

“OK! We can talk on the way back from Islamabad tonight. We can ride back together.”

“Why don’t you go back to your little home and get some rest before the trip and sweat it all off?”

“Why do I have to fall for someone just like my mom?”

Suddenly, Alex’s face was assailed with the look of horror.

“Sally!”

Alex grabbed Sally by her shoulders and shook her.

“I’ve gotta find them!”

“Who, Alex? What’s wrong?”

“My grandparents, Sally! Don’t you understand?” he asked, shaking Sally again.

“Alex! Stop it, you’re hurting me!”

Alex came to himself.

“Sally, I’m sorry. If I told you all about it all, you’d fear for my mind. You probably already do!”

Alex backed away from the girl.

“I really have to go! I want to call them.”

Alex was walking backward still admiring her.

“I’ll see you tonight. Wakely and I are going to Islamabad together.”

Alex waved again, turned around, and trotted briskly to his habitat and Sally prayed.
~~~
The Vineyard was not your run-of-the-mill international mission group dedicated to the propagation of the good news. It was laidback in its approach. The Vineyard didn’t demand that a candidate go out and spend the best years of ones life getting a Masters of Divinity and then a Th.D. It didn’t tell the candidate to spend the next five years after the degrees were accomplished drumming up support for the “Work” so that the servant of Elyon could, finally, get out to the field where Elyon had “so powerfully” called them, afterwards to finally arrive too bruised, battered and worn to set up house, get typhoid and die! No! The Vineyard took you as you were. Long hairs, short hairs, or no hairs at all! You’re qualified!

The only prerequisites were that you be filled with the Spirit, spend ample time in prayer, a standard to which no one could ever quite attain except by exaggeration. You had to read your Bible.

“Meditation on the word was the key! Breathe it! Eat it! Drink it and Dream about it!” as Vineyard founder Rex Wagle used to proclaim in his sermons. The original name of the mission had not been the “Vineyard” but rather “Christ is the answer.” The name originally left no doubt as to what they were about. It had a ring about it and seemed to say it all. The only hang up was that when the first letters in each of words were used as an abbreviation, it spelled out CIA. That never went over well in the Third World when visa time came up. They had even begun to change the acrostic title to C.I.T.A. but that meant HIV/AIDS in the French language, or at least it had the same sound. So, after painstakingly praying and seeking the will of the Lord for a new name, the name “Vineyard” was chosen. Never mind that the new title seemed to imply that they were all drunkards.

“Elyon knows better!” Rex Wagle declared.

____________________________________________________________

Inside Nimrod Rising
Watch "Inside Nimrod Rising" and take a journey into the spiritual beyond that will make you wonder if "Nimrod Rising" is a book of fiction or of truth. In fact, it is both!

Watch Inside Nimrod Rising
____________________________________________________________

One would have thought that Elyon also knew better for the original name as well, but no one had ever pointed that out. Unity, prayer! Piety, prayer! Sobriety, prayer! Study of the word and prayer! Fasting and above all, prayer! It was a miracle, but one did have a chance to sleep from time
to time. One was always sure to pray before sleeping!

The days of the Vineyard’s devotees were filled with the distribution of the Gospel and the seemingly never-ending stream of literature to distribute also. That is, of course, only after a profound moment around the Word of Elyon and prayer at 5:30 A.M. The original time had been 5:00 A.M. That change was highly regarded as a compromise on the part of supposed men of Elyon with the inability to conquer their flesh. Some said it was worldly. The dissenters did follow after the others’ carnal ways and sleep another half hour later though! The team’s nights were to be spent in the visitation of “contacts,” as they were called: those who showed more than just the casual interest in either the literature or the message of the gospel or visa to America. Of course, there was the “Around the world night of prayer” every Thursday night. It would usually break up at around 4:00 AM to give everyone a chance to have breakfast and refresh themselves before the 5:30 AM prayer meeting and then off to the daily scheduled ritual that had just become too stale for Alex Maefield. It was to be counted as a day without sleep for the Lord!

Alex had researched many groups before joining the Vineyard. He had received materials about the Vineyard even though he could not recall having ever enquired of them or having ever heard of them. Even more mysterious to Alex was the letter of acceptance he had received from them when he knew he had not even applied. When he had called to ask about the status of his acceptance, the Vineyard officials had never heard of him, but he was accepted nonetheless.

Alex just took it as a sign from Elyon. The Vineyard, more than all the other mission groups or boards, offered Alex his best chance to be radically spiritual and to “one-up” everyone around him, in spiritual terms. Alex never missed a meeting, consistently read the book and held a good check on his libido. Before venturing out into this land of dark magic and demonic activity, Alex had not spoken to any churches or mission boards. He decided to just trust the Lord to meet his needs the same way C.T. Studd, Henry Martyn and Hudson Taylor and many others had done in their new-life endeavors. Every month, Alex’s grandparents sent him faithfully a meager stipend of $100 out of their savings, ever determined to let their adopted son, Alex, mightily do the will of Elyon. The Vineyard director had warned Alex several times that the will of Elyon just might be changing for him if he didn’t have his support coming in more regularly and in larger denominations. Alex never worried. Alex hardly ate, fasting three days a week! He never drank Coke or Pepsi, even in the sometimes 45-degree Celsius temperature of Pakistan, and he lived in a one room rooftop-closet sort of place. Alex’s comfort level was hardly above that of the common city street dwellers of Lahore, and only a half-step below those who lived in cardboard boxes on the streets of Bombay.

Alex had told himself that he was trying to relate to the people of Pakistan, Lahore in Particular. In reality, it was all he could afford! It consisted of one window, which barely opened, a plastic, fold up hanging closet, a desk with the drawer missing, a wobbly chair, and one washed-out paint container, which Alex used as his toilet. It smelled rancid whenever he forgot to empty it. There was an overhead fan fastened to a hook which made Alex wonder if it might come tumbling down spinning some night as he slept and make mincemeat of some of the most prized possessions attached to his body! Alex would often watch the most amazing phenomenon as he lay in his broken down mattress. Day or night, from the wall to his left, over the ceiling above him, down the wall on his right and across the floor under his bed and up the left wall again, was a steady stream of ants. At first, Alex was afraid that they would fall into his gaping, snoring mouth as he lay sleeping at night. After a while, Alex had become accustomed to his thousands of friends, even grateful for their presence. He watched them as they marched in military-style unison, going about their business of doing the same task day in and day out. When Alex first started watching them, they had seemed daring, busy, loyal, even zealous! Now, though Alex still went to great pains not to step on any of them, they seemed boring, ritualistic, robotic and numb. Alex speculated to himself that they were a whole lot like him, a perfect picture of himself. He was doing the same thing these ants were: going out daily, gathering the tidbits and crumbs that he knew would be to the Master’s liking and only told to go right back out and do the whole thing all over again!

Alex had lost his vision. He found it impossible to persuade himself anymore of the rationale for even being there. The hallucination, aberration, vision or whatever it was didn’t help him. It had actually crushed him! He called home but there was no answer. The answering machine was turned off, broken or possibly blown to bits by bullets shot by a man wearing Alex’s face! He was scared, frustrated and angry! Alex got off his bed and walked over to the legions of ants streaming up and
down the walls. He had returned home to get some rest before his trip to Islamabad in the afternoon. There was a Sunni Muslim festival parade there today. It would be a bit of interesting and potentially dangerous evangelism!

“Fanatics are always dangerous,” Alex thought.

The statement caused him not to trust himself. He wondered if Elyon’s perspective toward man was like his own toward these bugs pacing up and down his walls. They were so small compared to Alex’s foot. He placed his foot three or four inches over a small section of this assembly line of vermin. Hundreds of the tiny creatures ran for cover as if amazed that their giant, humanoid friend
would be so rash as to frighten them.

“Elyon can crush us with his foot!” Alex remarked.

Was Elyon about to step on Alex? The thought had struck Alex’s mind as many times as the blood of Christ prevented it! Did Elyon hold the momentary last few days of doubt, lust and fear against him? Alex feared so. He removed his foot from over top of the ants. They all regained their positions again. He fell backward onto his bed. He needed to rest before the trip. The bed conformed nicely to Alex’s body. It was more of a hammock than a mattress. He looked up at the ceiling. The ants were marching to and fro in their vain, endless routine that literally would lead them to an early death, having worked themselves so hard. Often, while nodding off to sleep, Alex would lay and wait for the voices. They were those latent replays of things that one’s brain heard during the day but the ears had filtered out and refused to hear. The ants moved in formation above Alex’s head. Some seemed to be at battle stations. They seemed to make formations of battle in the hazy, dreary vision that was taking him into never-never land. They seemed to Alex, as his eyes folded slowly, like an approaching menace ready to die in war, if need be, and taking up their positions! In the far distance, Alex heard the wailing, soothing cry of the Mosque calling the faithful to late-morning prayers,

“Allah Wakbar! Bismila Rahman Rahir Irahim.”

Alex liked the sound. It stretched his religious bones. Closer by, a three-wheeled rickshaw sort of rumbled and clattered close by and the smell of the curry-infested air bit at his nose. He was tired. He was weary and afraid. He was tired and it was understandable. Ants could work themselves to death. Humans were of a more frail nature. There are those interplays between feelings, motives, emotions and drives. He remained unconvinced.

You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites:
Steven Clark Bradley's Stories That Read You!
Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
Steven Clark bradley inspiredauthor.com/promotion
Steven Clark Bradley - Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Blog Talk Radio.com
Steven Clark bradley at Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Inspired Author.com

All of Steven Clark Bradley's novels are widely available all over the net. Here are a few links to help you read these exciting stories now.

Amazon.com
booksamillion.com
powells.com
bordersstores.com
barnesandnoble.com
copperfields.com

Dare You To Read The Whole Book!

Steps Toward Gomorrah...Part Two

stevenbradley | April 24, 2008 19:09

"Full of complex machinations and apocalyptic visions of a possible future, Nimrod Rising! is a thought provoking work of epic proportions. Steven Bradley has shown us a different, and quite frankly, a frightening way to look at world events. His characters show a depth and complexity that bring them to life in our world, and show an eerie similarity to many of today’s world leaders. Reading the newspaper will never be the same again"

Ronald W. Adams, Author of
Key Lime Squeeze Enspiren Press

Steps Toward Gomorrah...Part Two By Steven Clark Bradley

The nation seemed worn out, wearing visages of the excessively burdened, overly paranoid and completely severed as a people and ravaged by rage. They seemed ready to sell their historic birthright for a mess of new-age porridge; ready to give away their liberty for the gods of peace, prosperity, promiscuity and security!

This highly technologically advanced society seemed to have taken on a life of its own; transforming its citizens into its slaves of self, imprisoned by their own need of self-gratification. The American people now serviced the system rather than the other way around. Was it all an accident? Was this simply the natural evolution of a free and forward-looking people or was this all a conspiracy; a well tooled and orchestrated game of Sodom killing Gomorrah? Issues such as surveillance, environment, social upheavals, genetic mutations, Same-sex marriage, Cyber-space technology, scandal ridden political leaders and new age religions seemed to rob the land of any vestige of the country that had once existed.

Since the Swarm had overrun the world, new laws curtailing freedom of movement, speech and assembly had been passed by the United State’s Congress and signed by the President with no other alternative available. The public had generally accepted these measures. It was not so much that the people were oblivious to their reduced rights. It was also not so much that they agreed with the provisions, which ran roughshod over the constitution. The key to the lack of civil unrest was that there was no other way to achieve even a semblance security without the Patriot Act. It was deemed as logical steps to save the nation. What everyone failed to ask was the fact that if such measures were required to save the American nation then, wasn’t the nation gone already?

The world seemed to have shrunk. New sets of priorities, norms and values appeared in the newspapers, magazines and on the television screens. The government seemed to be in collusion with forces that were, though unseen and intangible, very real as to their impact on the daily lives of the people. The primary goal had become the changing of the basic values, principles and precepts that had governed the lives of the United States since its inception of liberty as a nation. The nation had so ridden itself of the burdens of righteous adherence to a righteous God that when a righteous President had come to power he was ridiculed, maligned, hated and found it impossible to pull the nation back.

The need of keeping track of five billion people throughout the world had also become a major priority. From vacuum tube computers as large as city blocks and containing as little as 64K memory, recent giant advances in computer technology such as chips as small as a fingernail and containing massive amounts of gigabytes of ram now made the Star Wars phenomenon obsolete and ancient in comparison. Computer technological development had now made it possible to track the world’s population within ten feet of its location. The Swarm of evil urchins and their maze of infiltration caused all of these measures to become needed and unquestionably accepted by the masses.
Population control had always remained a sacrosanct secret in the public eye. Nevertheless, the programs, steps and various avenues of raising the acceptability of the experimental inserted chip had been often discussed and proposed during annual, bi-annual a quarterly conferences and meetings of such groups as the Bildeburgers, World Bank, The Trilateral Commission and meetings of several Environmental groups and the Swarm’s circle. Several ways of achieving the goals of these social engineers were discussed in these secret meetings.

When asked if he would support the development of Smart card and the inserted chip under the skin, President Bill Clinton stated categorically,

“Of course I’m for it!”

From Credit cards to debit cards, to smart cards, it would soon become a reality that every American would eventually carry on his or her person, an electronic, description of physical features, family history, address, occupation, criminal record and income tax information and every possible element of one’s life that the government deemed necessary. The inserted chip would go one step further by going beyond the smart card in the wallet or purse that could be lost or stolen to a personalized chip worn at all times under the skin. There had been far too many victims of the Swarm. The government had a need to know all. Thanks to Hamid Assad, the young and intelligent successor to Osama Bin Laden, these evil locusts had infiltrated every facet of Western society and could be found in every nation. From the great political and financial cities of the world, such as Brussels, Luxembourg, London, Paris and New York, the agenda of the New World Order was rushed up because the attacks of Beelzebub had rocked the very lifelines of the free world.

At home, the American Government had given the Federal Emergency Management Agency 12.1 billion dollars for the purpose of setting up Mobil Operational facilities, developing a super-sacrosanct-secret police force and restoring and revamping military bases such as Tonapon, Nevada, and Barstow the purpose of which was to form boot camps for the violent eradication of these insects who had changed America forever. These facilities eventually made pale in comparison. All of these events, people, groups and crisis formed the skeleton of a diabolical system simply waiting to be covered with flesh and to have its nostrils filled with the breath of the devilish life of many languages, cultures and peoples moving ever so closely together.

Promises of peace and assurances of prosperity; it had all melted down creating an avalanche of deception and detestable outcries for change and a return to a past, though not forgotten, much better time. It would only prove attainable only in some imaginary, mental Disneyland! Promises! Promises!

____________________________________________________________

Inside Nimrod Rising
We all know about the life we can all see, touch and feel. What about a world that is as real as the air we breath; but one which is hidden from our sight and as real as the invisible battles going on around us at every moment for the world, the future and for the souls of men and women? Inside Nimrod Rising will give you visual look into a book that could be one of the most important books you will ever read! War, terror, political upheaval, are these simply random acts of intrigue and violence? Or, is there an invisible war between the forces of good and the forces of evil that soon will not be so invisible anymore? Watch "Inside Nimrod Rising" and take a journey into the spiritual beyond that will make you wonder if "Nimrod Rising" is a book of fiction or of truth. In fact, it is both!

Click Here To Watch Inside Nimrod Rising
____________________________________________________________

The Iraq war had been deemed the first real United Nations engagement against the United States of America. It had succeeded in demonstrating no more than the ability of the world to carry out an internationally drawn out plan of battle in one of the world’s most powerful nation. United Nations’ forces, afterwards, would be sent to Somalia, Bosnia, Africa and South America. The United States had, on the one hand, dismantled its forces to such an extent that it could not maintain a drawn out conflict outside of its own hemisphere without the combined and joint efforts of the United Nations. On the other hand, The United States had over extended its commitment of troops to areas of the world where no clear threat to the American public could be explained and no determined American objective could be constructed other than the protection of the “Global Community”. This had been carried out by the liberals without the slightest protest of the majority of the public due to the liberal press that put only the most positive face on monsters of evil. Yet, when the swarm had infected the land causing the nation to return to war in the heart of the nest of vermin, the public outcry was massive and deafening with the media calling the president a tyrant and misguided.

Other Presidents had begun to consult with the United Nations Secretary General as much as with their own congress. Now, this president stood up for the nation and the system was being circumvented and the powers that be would not adhere to it. The New World Order had gained its foundation in such a patriotic fashion! Its impact loomed large as a lunging tiger ready spring upon its prey and its reversal was as plausible as the stopping of a raging locomotive ten feet in front of a rail straddling public transport bus. It had all become so inevitable that the existence of the New World Order and its collusion with the Swarm was not even questioned anymore. Stock markets were surging, interest rates were low, employment was up and inflation was down. America had simply walked into it as a willing, bleating participant. Mammon was taking the world by a storm, and the clouds were gathering.

The all-consuming fear of violence at home and of terrorism from abroad caused the people to give up their freedoms as the price of maintaining security and their need of comfort. The Swarm was simply everywhere! They were not just the type who had struck at the heart of Babylon. Now they were more of a consortium for terror. This driving mistrust of a peaceful and stable world seemed to have forced the countries of the dissolving planet to fall inline with the strategic, political, cultural and economic emerging New World Order. Unity had become the new beckon call that was touted as the promise to ensure continued progress and a continuation of a lifestyle that would remain peaceful, secure and financially lucrative, as though it had ever really been so for the teeming masses.

The world had been thrust into a profound perplexity among the nations. The fear of losing their jobs, homes, dreams and their very lives caused men’s hearts to fail them. It was the promises of the New World Order that would surely avert any breakdown of a society wrought upon the social order.

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Nimrod Rising - Steps Toward Gomorrah Part One

stevenbradley | April 24, 2008 18:53

I hope you enjoy a taste of the world of Nimrod Rising. The Chapter below will give you a feel for a story like no other you have ever read. I hope it makes you want to read to the very end!

Steven Clark Bradley

This is a poem I wrote for Nimrod Rising and is at the beginning of the book. The words in these phrases greatly demonstrate the premise of Nimrod Rising. I hope it will speak to you.

At The End Of Our Days?

Are we at the end of our days?
The army of God stands poorly arrayed.
Is the final hand about to be played?
While the Word of God is so poorly displayed?
Are we at the end of our days?

In the evil land please stay your hand.
Give us the grace once more to stand.
As long as ten righteous remain in the land.
Are we ready for the end of our days?

Your hand shall wave from sky to sky.
You come to claim the apple of your all-seeing eye
You shout "Return to me or your nation will die!"
Your word declares your hatred for the lie.
Your presence shall be uplifted when the truth will no longer fly
at the end of our days!

With the evil one's armies marching to deceive.
If the truth is rejected then a lie is believed.
We must reject the lie for from Satan it was conceived.
Now, return and let the nation be relieved,
At the end of our days.

Steven C. Bradley

2011

Steps toward Gomorrah
(A Chapter from Nimrod Rising)

Behind the United States and its Constitution was a corrupt movement of the evil, a small group of men whose sole objective was to enslave the globe and humanity in their Master’s world that was devoid of the presence of God and a plot to turn the species into fossils so that the master could reclaim His throne! The beginning of the final step was put into place back to the middle of the 18th Century, and name of the man who put that plot into action was Adam Weishaupt

This satanic plot was launched back in the 1760’s when it first came into existence under the name of the Swarm. This Swarm was organized by one Adam Weishaupt who had become a seeming convert to Catholicism and later a Catholic priest. He was made of one thing; political intrigue. When his skills were finally noticed and his intensions known, the Financiers requested that he abandon his faith and realize his role in the seed of Nimrod. He quickly concurred and defected from the Catholic Church and organized The Minders. They were called by many names; Illuminati, The Bilderbergers, The Guiding Hand and all financed by the International Bankers.

The founding of the invisible net of Luciferians became the source of every war since that very day. It began with the French Revolution, which became an orgy of blood and served as a fine sacrifice to the master like those out of the Temple of the Innocents. After the Swarm was exposed and the darkness faced the light, Weishaupt and his co-conspirators were forced to operate under various other names.

Weishaupt was a Jesuit-trained professor of Canon Law, teaching in Inglecot University, when he defected from Christianity to embrace the Swarm. In 1770, he began to write out the Master’s plan. It was designed to give the forces of Satan ultimate world domination so they could impose the Luciferian ideology. The master wished to destroy the weak and usurping species of Humanity. Weishaupt smiled when he understood what would become of humanity by what would remain of the human race after the final social cataclysm by use of satanic despotism.

Weishaupt completed his task on May 1, 1776, which is internationally celebrated to this day in honor of this great event as May Day. That was the day Weishaupt officially completed his plan which required the destruction of all existing governments and religions. The objective was to be reached by dividing the masses of people into opposing camps in ever increasing numbers on political, social, economic, and other issues, the very conditions facing the United States in its tottering existence. The opposing sides were then to be armed; Terror would crush the masses’ resolve to defend themselves. Fatal incidents would be amply provided which would cause them to fight and weaken themselves, gradually destroying national governments and religious institutions, family and the complete and utter breakdown of all social order!

Meanwhile, all the normal affairs of the current day had already started to tumble downward. TORS had devastated the nation! The fledgling government was in a stupor of the drug they daily injected but which they withhold from the population at large! Monetary and sex bribery was used to gain dominance over men already in high places in the various levels of all governments and other fields of endeavor. Once the leaders and the masses had fallen for the lies, deceits, and temptations of the beast, they were to be held in bondage. The nation had lost its nerve! It refused to see that the means stood before them but they lacked the will to use it! The application of political and other forms of blackmail, threats of financial ruin, public exposure, and physical harm, even death to themselves and loved members of their families caused the detractors to remain silent. Plenty of examples of terror served as fit reasons not to expose one’s self. It had become a nation that had sought to force God’s hand off of the country and now the Eagle was crashing! Guilty of sins of the flesh, the lust of the eye and the boastful pride of life; it was clear, the Nation had failed! Babylon was falling!

The hordes of the Swarm were engrained in the faculties of colleges and universities throughout the country. They had cultivated their crop of minds from the students possessing exceptional mental ability and who belonged to well-bred families with international leanings. Many of them were chosen for special training in Internationalism, social destruction and moral execution of the established order; granting scholarships, like the Rhodes scholarship, to those selected by the Swarm to put their ideas and levers all in place. There were those who just simply disappeared and were never heard from again. All those were scholars, those able to kill without remorse and those devoid of the fear of death because they had not gone along with the plan. They were to be first persuaded and then convinced that men of special talent and brains had the right to rule those less gifted on the grounds that the masses do not know what is best for them physically, mentally, and spiritually.
All influential people who were trapped to come under the control of the Swarm, plus the students who had been specially educated and trained, were to be used as agents and placed behind the scenes of all governments as experts and specialists. They would advise the top executives to adopt policies which would, in the long run, serve the secret plans of the Swarm’s one world conspiracy, and bring about the destruction of the governments and religions they were elected or appointed to serve.

They were to obtain absolute control of the press so that all news and information could be slanted to convince the masses that the Swarm and the Minders was impossible to defeat! Gaining control of the media was never considered a problem. They had owned them for years!

The great shift had actually begun in the sixth decade of the twentieth century. It was, at first a small movement of young, peace protesters and draft dodgers. It was not until the nineties when one of their lot who had actually marched down the streets of Moscow in protest of America, had risen by sheer cunning and innuendo to the top to become president and the leader of the free world. It had become a redundant title. For when the people’s hearts and minds no longer felt secure, there was no real freedom, and when the people no longer trusted their leaders to do what was right and to be what they could support, there seemed to be no one left to rule over!

It had all been proclaimed, declared, preached, protested, denied and detested for years! The common public had believed that the demise of the Soviet Empire would herald in a new day of peace and prosperity. It had even been given a name straight from the lexicons of political New-Speak as ‘The Peace Dividend’. The ageless and seemingly relentless necessity of the huge military industrial machine would diminish, or so the public was told. In addition, the peace loving, doomsday clock fearing people were promised vast reductions in the federal budget which would, as the sewers of lies proclaimed, in a relatively short space of time, cut back the burden on tax payers who had, after all, maintained the posture towards war at any given moment. The country, the world was taking in fresh gasps of this new air of peace that had suddenly broken out everywhere. Then they fell with a great destruction and death and the whole world mourned! It was then that the gates of hell were swung open wide and the evil hoards of demons infested the soldiers of the swarm! It had become a war that would have no end, for the day of Jehovah was at hand.

The one hundred-day conflict in the Persian Gulf had hardly earned or merited the title of a war but its impact militarily seemed to be minuscule, to say the least. The impact it had on the way the world communicated and the way in which future conflicts, even wars would be conducted was so great that it could not yet be measured, at least not until the swarm had festered. At least not until the slumbering masses in the land of the fat-cat free had been shaken awake by the alarm clock of blood and death on her streets by a new enemy that had no name, no look, no address, no conscience and no borders. It had been during this War that the term, ‘New World Order’ first began to be heralded on the televisions and radios around the world on a daily basis. It soon became clear that some inconspicuous, intangible milieu of bearded and turbaned masters had raised the stakes in the game of peace making vs. waging war and were prepared to kill the child, never spare the mothers and to absolutely hunt down the fathers.

The price to pay seemed now for a peaceful non-explosive world to dwarf the fears in American society concerning the federal deficit. No cost was too high! The cost accrued in the devastation of the Soviet Evil Empire seemed now to be miniscule in comparison with the new swarm of evil minions that had stricken the land as a far more precarious adversary; one that seemed to have invaded from a known region of the world but empowered by a force that was far outside of the tangible existence that could not be felt nor seen by humankind.

This all was consuming the land internally during a time when the principles of right and wrong were being all twisted and discarded for ideas that represented the constitution of the evil one. It had engendered a design that systematically erased the needs of the few and maximized, in economic terms, the utility of the many. This new order had eroded the concept that a country had sovereignty over its own destiny, concerns or people. The New World Order had instead, cemented the idea in the minds of nations, worldwide that no country could any longer concern itself primarily with its own needs and problems.

It had become clear that no State could only concentrate on the policing of its own people. There was a new conception, an abstraction. The people of the world would have to be taught to think globally and pass the ‘Global Test’! There was no longer an American community, a French community or any other community! There was just one big universal village that would protect each other from rogue states that should seek to deviate from the prescribed path of peace, harmony and prosperity. What was to be done with the Swarm overtaking the ripe concrete fields of the new world order like the armies of the Prince of Persia? It was precisely this order that had tamed nations into preserving the promise of global markets and confusing rights and wrongs. Yet, the degradation of national identities had forced the reticent and those who refused to play global ball to break out of the fray.

These self-perceived doers of good by evil means established worldwide organizational networks throughout the expanding underworld of fanatical Wahabi Allah worship and eventually united with those who simply loved to kill, maim and torture because they loved mayhem! They grew to such an extent until nations could no longer defend or protect themselves from their terror, which they sought to impose on all perceived enemies. How could one declare war on the invisible nation of Nimrod?

America had expanded its horizons from sea to shining sea. Sweat, blood and tears had forged it. There had always been that pioneering spirit that had first thrust people from all walks of life to set sail for the new world, and to survive there once they had planted their feet on the new soil. Yet, America had become a land striving for pleasure at any cost. Thomas Jefferson had penned the words himself; actually quoting from John Locke’s words, that humanity had certain inalienable rights such as life liberty and the pursuit of happiness though John Locke had stated that a people had the rights of life and liberty, the pursuit of property. Locke had desired to instill in the minds of people that they had the right to ownership, posterity and physical possessions that would one day give proof to their having been on the Earth. In changing Locke’s words, Jefferson had in reality set America’s eyes toward some unexplainable, unreachable goal of pleasing one’s self at all cost, even at the price of selling out one’s own freedom, one’s own country! Such attitudes and inabilities to act to save the land had left the people bewildered and always in the throws of change.

The locust had come in as a storm that could not be measured in severity, and which by no means could ever be stopped. Babylon would fall to the ground before eyes could be aroused, and indeed she had. That ungodly day when the smoke rose up like the face of Lucifer and consumed those who fled from its face; when missiles of concrete slammed into the bodies, hearts and minds of those who endured its rage and it had ushered in the Swarm and the entire world wept!

The changes in society brought about by the Swarm were at first subtle. Then, as the doors into the misty creeping social abyss had finally swung wide open, very distinct tactics were revealed that did, in fact, undermine the very social fabric of a once noble and moral society. Laws were passed that would sentence anyone to death who willfully, through some violent act, caused the death of an unborn fetus even if the mother was not killed. Yet, American justice and American society had collaborated in the murder of tens of millions of unborn babies in the form of thousands of abortion clinics across the land. This inconsistent ideal and the scourge of sexual diseases had also planted their venomous roots. Not to be worried, safe sex could still be had, or so it was proclaimed, and children were challenged to make their own decisions about when to have and how to have ‘Safe Sex’ and how to safely take drugs no matter what their parents had to say about it, never mind the moral issues or the consequences to ones health and to decide their own perceived genders! Students were taught to turn in their parents if they felt they were being abused in some way. These things were not wrong anymore simply because society had decided so. Nobody had stopped to ask what God had felt!

Don't Forget To Read Steps toward Gomorrah...Part Two
Click Here To Read: "Steps toward Gomorrah...Part Two"

You can read lots more from Steven Clark Bradley at these sites:

Steven Clark Bradley's Stories That Read You!
Steven Clark Bradley's Underground Controversy
Steven Clark bradley inspiredauthor.com/promotionSteven Clark Bradley - Published Authors.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Blog Talk Radio.com
Steven Clark bradley at Communati.com
Steven Clark Bradley at Inspired Author.com

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Author Steven Clark Bradley

NEW! - Nimrod Rising - Politically Speaking!

Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part Two

Nimrod Rising - Legion of Ants Part One

Steps Toward Gomorrah...Part Two

Nimrod Rising - Steps Toward Gomorrah Part One

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