Substance of the Unseen

Copyright © 2012, 2015 E. M. Fleischer.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1979, 1980, 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

WestBow Press

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ISBN: 978-1-4908-7042-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-7043-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015902643

WestBow Press rev. date: 03/02/2015

Contents

Preface

Acknowledgements

Part One

The Rising of the Son

Battle at Dawn

Sight of the Blind

From Whom Darkness Flees

Part Two

Worth Everything

More Faithful Still

Veil of Fear

The Tongue of Poison

To all my friends and family

who have supported and encouraged me

all these years while pursuing my dreams,

and most of all to Jesus Christ who is my everything.

Preface

There is something about stories that reaches past our barriers and into our hearts. Perhaps we’re more unguarded when we take them in. Or maybe wrapping familiar truths in unfamiliar packaging gives us a view from a different angle. One of my absolute favorite quotes is from C.S. Lewis: The Value of myth is that it takes all the things you know and restores to them the rich significance which has been hidden by the veil of familiarity.

This collection of short stories began as occasional inspiration from the Lord to write truths in the form of a story. At first I never even thought of sharing them with anyone besides friends and family, but it’s funny how you end up down paths you didn’t expect that turn out greater than what you imagined. He gave me a passion to share these words with as many people as possible. The stories of the two sections of Substance of the Unseen are anything but randomly placed. They all mean a great deal to me. The prophet Jeremiah said it best, …there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot (Jer. 20:9b).

My hope is that these tales will inspire you. Build your faith. Grant new perspective. And most of all, that—like the characters you’ll find in this book—you’ll end up in a deeper and more real relationship with Jesus Christ. There is a whole other world beyond what we see with our eyes: the substance of the unseen…

Acknowledgements

I’d like to express my sincerest thanks and appreciation to some of the people who helped bring this book into being, improved it, and supported me in the process.

Mrs. Rubus, without your immense help in editing my work these stories would be much less than they are. You taught me so much and blessed me more than you know with all the time and effort you took over these last couple years. You gave a great deal and I ask the Lord to bless you a hundredfold in return! Sandy, I’m so thankful for you pointing me to Westbow and giving me great advice as a writer and editor. Brian, your painting is wonderful and so greatly fits the character of these stories. Laurie, you’re so generous and talented, and I’m thankful for the author photos you took. Ben, you were a great friend to first suggest I publish these stories because you really believed they were good and important enough. Mom, you have always been an incredible supporter of my writing and pursuing my dreams. I cannot say enough about how it encourages me; not to mention you putting up with my frequent questions about your opinion, reading and listening to my stories over and over again, and giving honest opinions to truly help me do better.

And to so many other friends and family members who have been supportive, excited, and full of faith. Thank you all so very much! It’s not something that can be done alone.

Part One

The Rising of the Son

When is the morning coming?

Darkness.

It was all I could see. As I walked, I felt the path and heard the leaves crunching under my feet, but I could no longer see them very well. Night had fallen a long time ago, and now I waited for the dawn, for the sun.

My family had said this way was dangerous. They warned me not to go into this black forest where so many others had disappeared or had come out changed. I had pushed ahead anyway and had told them I wasn’t afraid of the dark because their fear seemed so restraining. My sister especially had shown concern. Her large, sad eyes haunted me as did the last squeeze of her hand over mine. They thought coming this way would bring me harm, so I had decided to prove to everyone that I would be perfectly fine. I might even enjoy myself on this adventure. Yet now I had my doubts. Was it wise to come alone into the unknown of the black forest?

I just shrugged off my doubts and kept walking. No harm had come yet, had it? What could it hurt …

These thoughts were much more encouraging, causing me to lift my chin as I picked up my pace. The dark wasn’t so bad anyway.

Until eerie sounds drifted through the trees on a chill wind that cut through the layers of my clothing. My steps faltered as I glanced to either side of the path where the looming woods writhed with shadow. A little moonlight was the only thing that helped me see the road beneath me and the faint outline of trees all around. I wouldn’t mind a little more light. I wouldn’t mind a little more company.

Maybe I spoke too soon.

For such a long way along this path nothing had happened to me, and the thrill of trying out the uncertain, foreboding trail kept me going even though the shadows began to grow stifling. My sister’s words of anxiety almost seemed without foundation the longer I had gone, but my misplaced confidence began to wane. I missed the comforting voices of my family and friends where there was daylight and safety. My long dark hair twisted between my fingers in a nervous fidget.

The eerie noises that sound like howls or cries in the night seemed closer. What had I gotten myself into? The biting wind blew stronger and stirred the dead leaves in ominous rustling whispers around my suddenly-rooted feet. Even as my heart began to pound in my chest, something moved at the corner of my eye. My head whipped around, and something akin to wicked laughter sent chills down my spine.

I ran. I ran with all the speed I could muster, not knowing what evil things dwelt in this darkness, this darkness I had willingly entered.

My personality had always been to plunge into things head first and to do whatever it was that I wanted to do even if my mother and father told me I shouldn’t. Sometimes my closest friends even thought me a little reckless, but they didn’t say much knowing I wouldn’t follow their advice. I wanted to try everything myself. I wanted to be strong enough on my own.

A cry of surprise and pain slipped from my lips when my foot caught on a rock, and I stumbled and fell.

The laughter sounded again. Then it was joined by many more voices. What was happening? I covered my ears where I lay on the ground trying to be strong and convince myself it was not real.

But I could not deny its reality when I opened my eyes.

Glowing eyes of yellow, red, and black pierced through the darkness, watching me, and I could faintly see figures behind those eyes so monstrous and terrible. In a glance, they looked like men, but distorted and of different sizes. They were shadowed creatures with fear going before them and following in their wake. My gaze fell on the closest one: on his hands, long talons briefly reflected the pale moonlight.

Terror shuddered through me in ever -increasing waves. I scrambled to my feet and staggered forward to flee the creatures, for there was no mistaking the bloodlust in those awful eyes.

Claws dug into my shoulder, and a cry of pain tore out of my throat. More talons and hard, grasping hands pulled me back. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what was happening. Shadow clouded my soul, and my heart felt clutched too tightly in a cold grip. The deep wounds burned, and I fell again to the ground while the creatures still screeched and grabbed.

Now the moon was setting. In a few moments, all would be utterly black and those creatures would still have me.

What I had forgotten was that the disappearing of the moon meant the approach of the dawn.

Taunts and threats roared in my ears, but somewhere inside a faint spark of hope ignited. I called for help. I cried out for the sun to rise.

A tremble ran through the ground. Through the burning pain and sharp stinging, I felt it pass under me. The black creatures did not release me, but they stopped hissing in my ear and tearing at me with their sharp talons to look around with perked ears. In that moment of silence and stillness, I noticed the blood wet on my shirt: my blood. It stained the dead leaves crumbled beneath me.

Another tremor rippled through the earth, causing the evil beings to twitch and hiss in consternation. They were forgetting their prey. Had my call been heard?

I slowly pushed up on my arms to find a sitting position, for my captors had stepped back and loosened their hold on me. I was startled to see just how many of them there were; hundreds swarmed and stretched down the path.

Then far down the ranks was a sudden screeching and stirring. They parted and the creatures almost trampled each other to scramble aside. I craned my neck to see what was going on. Why they had given up their cruel game of torment.

When I first caught a glimpse of him, both great sadness and great joy overwhelmed my heart. He passed unharmed and untouched amongst the creatures of darkness, for they shied away as if he would burn them at the touch. Yet even though they would not go near, their hatred was tangible on the air. The hissing, spitting, and roaring mingled with the anger pouring from their gleaming eyes. So why weren’t they touching him?

My body shook. I ignored it while I watched this man approach. At first, nothing wondrous showed in his appearance—not until he came nearer. He was tall and clothed in simple white. I cannot explain how, but his body seemed a mask concealing something mysterious and glorious. His eyes never strayed to the tumult and grotesque scene around him, for they were fastened on me. Did I know him? He did seem familiar somehow. But I was desperate for help, so all other thoughts left me. His gaze transfixed me. The dark did not seem as black. I am coming, his eyes said as they held mine in a gentle but firm steadiness.

Suddenly he reached my weak and torn body. He stretched out a hand. The noise of the creatures’ protests and fury rose to a piercing level. The man took my hand and helped me to my feet. The earth itself and all the forest seemed to watch him, bending beneath each step, every turn of his head. Who was he that even these fearful creatures dared not come near, and the earth trembled at his coming? I stared at him. He did not look like someone great and powerful. He just looked like any other man with brown hair and deep dark eyes.

His tall, lean form turned to face the evil surrounding us.

She is mine. You can no longer touch her.

Such simple words, yet the authority of his rich voice seemed to thunder over the multitude of darkness. It was a voice full of majesty and warmth that gave me hope just listening to its deep dulcet tones. Maybe this man truly could save me. I had gotten myself into this mess, but I knew now I could not get myself out of it.

My cry for aid had been answered.

Hope surged through me like fire as he stood between them and me. Then this man looked at them and stepped forward. A few near the front stopped scowling and frothing. My heart dropped. I could not move.

Their sharp teeth were bared in harsh grins, and their shoulders hunched over in anticipation. What was happening? My confusion rooted me motionless where I stood.

He looked over his shoulder at me one last time and smiled. Tears began to fall down his cheeks, but even they could not dim the radiance of that smile.

It was then I realized what he was doing.

No! my voice came out ragged and all-too quiet. Please no!

I reached out a hand, but he was already walking into the bloodthirsty hands of the enemy. Earlier they had kept their distance. Now they immediately fell upon him with guttural snarls and grasping talons that tore into his flesh. I was powerless to stop them and could only watch in horror as they beat and wounded this man who had come to rescue me. I backed away and fell to my knees. His cries of suffering tore into me deeper than any of their sharp claws ever could. Their cries of glee and hatred hurt my ears, so I covered them with my hands, but I could not look away.

The wicked beings gathered him up and brought