Jeanmarie's Baby, Or Why We Have No Anti-Christ, Part Iii

...It was on the day contractions began that Satan deigned to return to the room, snarled at her, and said, “It’s about time. Thankfully I can get rid of you soon.” She could barely look at his evil eyes, her will had vanished, her strength had long-drained, he said, “I guess you should know what’s coming, what will be born out of all of this pain. “You’ve heard it before, up there on your Earth, all the legends spun ’round the anti-christ. 'Twas I who wrote them, preparing the field for man’s final fall into sin and vice. “And you, of course, are his perfect mother, a **** who s without knowing my name, my hot little daughter of temptation, it was not even a challenge…a shame. “But since you won’t live to see what he does, how he will work my will on all mankind, I thought I’d let you see how your boys grows…” Horrific images flooded her mind. Images of people roasting on spits, of whole cathedrals built of bloody bones, women being raped while their husbands burned amidst the wreckage of their ruined homes. It was carnage she could not comprehend, her mind recoiled, but nowhere could it hide, but then, with a flash, it all went away, she heard the Devil jump back from her side. “What in the hell are you doing down here?” Satan cried loudly, voice reeking of fear. Jeanmarie just managed to turn her head, to her shock a new figure had appeared. She knew who this man was, knew it right off, if not from the face then from the bright light, sinner or not, it was not hard to know the very visage of the Jesus Christ. He looked about as you’d expect Him too, simple robes, bearded face, sandels, long hair, just from looking, for the first time in months, Jean felt something other than deep despair. He smiled an said, “Don’t worry, daughter, I’ve just a few things here to take care of.” Then turned to the Devil, just shook his said, said, “Oh Lucy, is it never enough? “All these plans, all these schemes, all of this sin… in all this time have you even won once? You proclaim yourself some King of Darkness, but you forget, this place is your prison. “In what sort of prison are not the guards watching everything that the inmates do? I made this place, I made all of the world, and every inch of it is in my view. “Did you think I’d let a living child be born in this anathema to life? That I’d overlook this daughter you hurt, or that this somehow would escape My sight?... CONTINUES IN PART IV.