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congregation to action. “We don’t have a choice here, and if you think we do, you’re sadly mistaken. We must get involved. Do you really want to live your eternity in a Heaven where the angels are ruled by Satan?
    “We have children here left homeless by the demon attack, children who suffered burns in the fire that consumed their home. They were pushed callously and thoughtlessly to the side amid the demons’ lust for revenge against the angels. The children’s only fault was being in the way. These are the same demons that have tortured your forgotten loved ones in Hell. Do you want these same torturers to be teaching the children of Heaven? Their hands are covered in blood, and make no mistake, it is human blood.”
    She stretched out her hands before the people gathered. The symbolism was effective.
    “She is quite a talker,” whispered Jerry to Christopher.
    Christopher only nodded. Here was another soul touched by Serena Davis. It was curious the number of times the Serena Davis incident came up. It was interwoven into the present conflict at so many levels. It had pushed forward the development of a weapon that was apparently very effective against the demonic invaders. It had brought the members of the human resistance together. It had even touched lives locally—namely, Jennifer Davis. Perhaps he was drawing lines and connecting dots that didn’t really exist, but he didn’t think so.
    “It was the Father’s wish that we remain unaware of the plight of our lost loved ones,” she continued. “Indeed, we were left unaware of even their existence. Imagine suffering throughout all of eternity, knowing full well that not so much as one person is aware of your plight or even your existence. Imagine being forgotten even by your loved ones. But that is their fate, brothers and sisters.
    “The Father desired that we should not grieve over those whom we are powerless to help. But I tell you this: there are times when I wish we could all remember those lost to us in Hell, remember them so that the crimes of these invaders should sink deep into our consciousness.”
    There was a long pause. Jennifer’s piercing eyes scanned a room full of people who had her full attention.
    “Several years ago, after a most traumatic incident that raised my awareness to the plight of those lost in the fires of Hell, I made the conscious decision to remember all of my lost loved ones. I went to the Father, and the Father honored my request.
    “Yes, I grieve for them now, but I live in this world of ours with my eyes fully open. I understand the precious gift that the Father has given us. I look upon the lost and say, ‘There but for the grace of God am I.’ There but for the sacrifice of Jesus go all of us. The anguish of Hell is separation from God, but the torments of Hell are the deeds of its foulest inhabitants. Do you really think that Satan is going to keep his word to us?”
    “He will,” came a voice from the back of the church.
    All eyes turned to see a demon in a long, black robe at the door, his bat-like wings folded tightly behind him. Yet this being did not take on the appearance of a pale old man, but rather that of a dark-haired, clean-shaven man who appeared to be no more than 35 years of age. He stepped in, flanked by two others whose appearance was not unlike his. All in all, they were quite handsome beings in every respect, from their well-groomed hair to their flawless skin. Were it not for his wings, he could easily have passed as human.
    “I am sorry to interrupt your service,” continued the demon, “and I am sorry that we have disrupted your lives; however, it was necessary.” His eyes scanned the congregation thoroughly before he continued. “I am Lieutenant Kragow, commander of this cohort. I have come to tell you that you are no longer limited to your homes. You are free to come and go as you please.
    “Our concern was for your safety. We couldn’t have a child of God wandering