Fallen Masters Read online

  The equivalent of tears, whatever that might be called on this side, formed in POTUS’s vision, blurring it temporarily.

  IRA smirked invisibly, pleased that POTUS was still so ego-bound, then shifted his own thoughts back to POTUS. “We have much work to do,” he said. “Do not let your earthly ego get in the way of the spiritual achievements on our journey. I want to show you something else. There.”

  He brought the President into a structure that resembled the Colosseum, a façade that hummed and vibrated like the rest of this spiritual city they inhabited. Everywhere he looked, he saw waterfalls. The sight didn’t make any logical sense, but there they were, countless waterfalls and waterfalls upon waterfalls flowing from—he could not see where. Each waterfall formed a swirling pool, of which there seemed to be thousands all contained in this enclosed arena.

  “How is all of this able to fit inside of the edifice we just walked into?” The awe and confusion was evident in POTUS’s question.

  “Ah, you are still employing an earthly point of view and definition to our world of energy, I see,” IRA commented, somewhat sarcastically.

  POTUS winced at the implied criticism. He still had so much to learn. It was uncomfortable to be so naïve and incompetent. I should feel good in the light, but I don’t, he chided himself.

  IRA pointed out what all the other energies were doing. They were looking in on the earthly planes of existence, the levels of spiritual evolution that humans on Earth materialized into—or incarnated into.

  “So—all these waterfalls represent one person?”

  “No. They represent millions of people.”

  POTUS looked around at what felt like thousands of football fields for miles with thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of waterfalls as large as Niagra Falls and as small as a water feature in someone’s garden.

  “Listen to the music.”

  POTUS did not hear any music. But what he felt was the thoughts and feelings of millions of conversations. It was as if he was able to hear all of them, and focus on no particular one at the same time. Still, he was able to absorb the sounds—the “music,” as IRA called it—not as a cacophony, but as individual bits of data. However, he could not know whether he would be able to retrieve any of it or make any sense of it at a future moment.

  “Why doesn’t this sound like noise in a cafeteria or marketplace?” he asked. “All these people’s thoughts that I am listening to—”

  “Wait! First of all, you cannot read anyone’s thoughts. The Divine Source has made it so that remains the private space for all created beings. You are only able to read the projected thoughts of all living creatures.” IRA was beginning to sound slightly impatient, which POTUS thought a little odd for an “angelic” being.

  “You mean, I am hearing animals, as well?”

  “If it is living, you are experiencing it. Can we please start to use the terminology of this world and not your former world? How can I help you move away from it if you remain trapped there?”

  “Sorry,” POTUS said, perplexed and somewhat sheepish.

  This place took his breath away, figuratively. He was overwhelmed by pictures and scenes of what was happening all around the world revealed whenever he looked closely into the falls. At the same time he heard the conversations that, after a time, did start to resemble a kind of music, as IRA had called it. The falls created the most beautiful lakes and pools of various shades of blue, each one correlating to notes on a scale. And the light that shone on all these colors emanated from the Source!… How did he know that?

  These things are being revealed to me, so I must keep my mind open to receive the messages that are constantly bombarding my now nonexistent brain! Again and again he felt reduced to the status of a youngster attending his first day of school. How long ago had that been?

  He had to ask another question: “IRA, why can’t I connect with Caleb—or with my father?” He suddenly felt a deep need to communicate with his father, yet he was uncertain as to why he included the new being whom he had just encountered only once and only a brief time ago …

  IRA winced. POTUS was seeing things that he, IRA, had tried to block him from. He should not be experiencing anything but what his guide and mentor was allowing to be visible. Not his father—and certainly not Caleb. This was IRA’s primary responsibility. POTUS was resisting, not accepting the guidance IRA was supposed to provide. How would POTUS know about Caleb in the first place? Caleb would lead the newcomer down the wrong path, the one that the Governor and his minions intended.

  It dawned on POTUS that Caleb had been there all along, present and available to him as his guide, even as IRA had done his best to lead him in the direction that he, IRA, had selected. Then the question became, Why?

  The apparent shift when Caleb’s name came up darkened the space between POTUS and IRA. Smiling, despite his not-so-hidden agitation, IRA said, “I guess when you are ready to see them, you will.”

  “But where are they?” the newcomer demanded.

  IRA sighed. “They’re here already. You just can’t see them yet. This place has many levels and dimensions that you don’t gain access to just because you died physically. Sir, you need to understand that just as in life, you are working on the evolution of your soul. You need to finish some lessons in order to advance to others. You may be here for a while.”

  “How is that possible? You already told me that there is no time here. How can you say, ‘a while’? What does that mean here?”

  IRA was trying hard not to be flummoxed by POTUS’s repeated, nagging questions but was starting to find it blocking his plan. Then a shaft of crimson light flashed around IRA. He heard the words, “Stop this now!” and responded nervously, looking down.

  POTUS looked around at what could have caused IRA to react so uncomfortably. Surely, it was not solely his questions. But he could sense nothing visually or aurally and was mystified.

  IRA, however, looked to his left, and standing there were a number of the Council of Elders members, including the Governor.

  In that moment, POTUS felt protective toward IRA, his guide through this wondrous land of afterlife, and he sent out a thought wave of energy for the Council to step back and allow him the space to deal with IRA—and to learn what the guide was teaching him. At the same time, his natural skepticism gnawed at his spirit and he wondered just who Caleb was in the order of the universe, and he tried to tamp down his doubts and too-numerous questions.

  A return thought from the Governor stated simply: “So be it.”

  POTUS was pleased that the Governor trusted his judgment, in contrast to his mixed—or mixed-up—feelings about IRA.

  IRA looked down and smiled. He looked back up and said, “Thank you. I am trying to help you. I want to answer all your questions, but these distractions just seem to be creating new questions for you, ones designed to stop you from achieving the greatness that I know to be your destiny.”

  POTUS merely nodded and said, “What’s next on the tour?”

  When he reconnected with IRA, it seemed as if many of the other energies that were in their immediate presence became invisible. POTUS was brought to another level, and IRA was firmly imbedded into the psyche of POTUS with less “competition” for his attention.

  “May I show you something that we are not supposed to do?”

  POTUS laughed and said, “Sure, why not?” He felt that IRA was pushing him hard, getting ahead of where he was ready to be, but he went along.

  IRA pointed to a waterfall that flowed in all shades of red. IRA instructed him to bathe in it. POTUS immediately had a feeling deep inside that this direction was misguided and wrong, and that he was being led in a direction that was not healthy or correct for him. But IRA had gained his trust, more or less, and POTUS was still uncertain if he was even supposed to have “feelings.”

  When he stepped toward the magnificent red waterfall, he experienced a quick visual image of the Governor looking at him as if he were the family dog about to
relieve himself on the living room carpet. Then he heard the unseen Caleb tell him to trust himself. But the next thing he knew, IRA had led him right to the pool of illuminated red energy.

  “I feel amazing! What is this?” POTUS exclaimed.

  IRA coyly told him that the energy of the physical world can be used as a form of currency or fuel for these dimensions. “It is something that you are not really allowed to do, but from time to time, to fully understand the human experience, we bathe in this energy to reconnect and recharge.”

  “I feel like Superman—for real! The vitality and force of raw energy are unbelievable. Can we do this every day?”

  IRA’s eyes lit up at this question, pleased at the direction POTUS was moving—toward him, like Eve eyeing the apple in Eden. Finally, this was something that he could answer to achieve the result he wanted. He said, “The reality is you can come here any time you like. I have created access to this place for you. This vortex of light and energy will fuel our relationship and help us to move forward in a large way to accomplish our goals.”

  The President stood in the humming pool of red energy, not listening to IRA’s words, which were intended to entice and confuse in any case, programming himself and recharging his essence and feeling like a child who doesn’t want to leave the amusement park.

  Meanwhile, IRA stood on the sidelines like a proud parent who had taken his child out of school to treat him to a day of fun instead of fulfilling his responsibility for the education of the child. He laughed out loud as he knew that POTUS was now fueled with a newfound allegiance to the teachings of his guide, IRA.

  Angels and ghosts, POTUS realized, are images that human beings use to process what they do not understand about contact between the two realms of Earth and Heaven. Our knowledge is severely limited, circumscribed by lack of spiritual preparedness and, often, willful ignorance of greater and deeper forms of learning. The reality, he could now see, was more spectacular than the human mind could imagine. On Earth, we are weighed down by cares and obsessions and fear; our eyes are heavily lidded of our own making. Very few are willing to step out of what they know into the unknown—most because they are held down by poverty or fear. And those who have means become tied to their wealth and unable or unwilling to let go, for fear of losing all.

  Fear. Fear. Fear. Always that was at the root of inaction or wrong choices. Fear keeps human beings locked in their own minds and impotent to change. Fear, then, is the weapon of those who wish to keep them in that place and to control their world … fear is the tool of the forces of darkness. And at that moment the one emotion that POTUS wasn’t feeling was fear.

  CHAPTER

  56

  In the same dimension, standing right next to IRA and watching POTUS become intoxicated by the red waterfall, Caleb turned to the Governor and said, “We are losing him more quickly than I thought we would.”

  “I know we are,” the Governor responded. “I have tried since he arrived to indicate that he should not trust IRA, but I have perhaps been too subtle.” He now regretted that he had not been more overt, rather than transmitting signals and images that IRA had effectively countered. The Governor went on: “He has not allowed himself yet to trust his own instincts on a soul level. He is so used to ruling by committee and listening to a political cabinet of advisers. It was the one vulnerability we knew of in this fight for his soul’s decisions.”

  Caleb turned to look again at POTUS with his eyes closed. “We need permission to show him some more answers to the questions he does possess, the ones IRA is blocking. IRA is playing to his trust and manipulating him. He has to choose good and light over evil. That is his purpose and his true destiny. But he has to make the choices for himself, as all men do. Somehow he has to allow us into his thoughts and his soul’s energy so that we can show him more of this plane.”

  The Governor had long known how smart IRA was, how well trained by the Dark Forces. IRA was an expert on using the fear principles of the earthly realm to create the illusion of truth and achieve the desires of his masters. But the Governor also understood that the Source allowed all souls to experience evolution, in whatever realm they may exist. For IRA to be here presented an opportunity for the Forces of Light to try and shift IRA himself back to the way of the good and away from the dark. It had happened before.

  Neither could the Governor or anyone else stop him from being there, no differently than humans can stop the negative people or negative forces in their lives. What people can do, the Governor knew, is control the choices they make.… The alternative, upon which the Dark Forces based their actions, was to surrender free will and blame God for the evil that happens in human existence.

  There had been moments after POTUS first arrived and was waking up to the new reality, the Forces of Light had tried to show him the truth of IRA’s intentions.

  Caleb looked at the Governor, and they knew that the reality of losing the soul of POTUS to this trickster energy was in the balance. Caleb would make a quick attempt to “wake him at this moment.…”

  He spread his arms, wings of light, which illuminating the dimension that the POTUS now occupied. IRA reacted angrily, knowing he had no control over this maneuver, which was as simple for Caleb as making a casual gesture at a tea party.

  The Governor emitted a cosmic chuckle, which distracted IRA enough to loosen some of his mental control over and connection with the free will of POTUS.

  * * *

  Marcus opened his eyes to connect with the brilliant light Caleb emanated. He suddenly recognized his circumstance—seeing for a brief second the earthly illustrations of the energy he was standing in: Hundreds of thousands of images of people having sex and situations of intense fear processed through his consciousness—it was as if The Gates of Hell by Rodin had been awakened—overwhelming and embarrassing him as he stood in the red pool. Horrified, he removed himself from being the receptacle for these experiences, even as he began to glimpse the implications of his predicament.

  Feeling humiliated at participating in the most intimate moments of people’s earthly experiences and having a hard time shaking the images and feelings, POTUS turned to IRA in a rage.

  “Why the hell did you do that to me?” he screamed at IRA.

  Without skipping a beat, IRA had his reply at the ready: “Why did I do that to you? I recall you walking into that pool of energy of your own free will. I did not make you do anything. I would like to tell you that I do not appreciate the fact you are accusing me of having intentions that are not to show and teach you of this dimension. You are showing a sense of human entitlement and lacking appreciation.”

  IRA turned and began to move away from POTUS. “Perhaps I am not the person to be assisting your transition.”

  Confused, dripping with angry emotions like water from the pool, isolated and alone, POTUS wanted to allow IRA to go. Yet there was no one else here for him. Where was his family, who had died so many years ago? Why was this experience so lonely and non-God-like? This was not what his Sunday School teachers had taught him. Isolated and alone, but yet he was feeling a willingness to stay that way and let IRA walk away from him. Why was that? There seemed to be more confusion than clarity.

  * * *

  Just as he was going to thank IRA and allow him to leave, he heard a projection, a thought that emanated from IRA.

  “I understand you want me to go. I cannot stop your feelings but must honor them. But I was hoping to bring you here to energize you and reconnect you with yourself—to make you feel something. The energy of the Earth World, fueled by the base energy of sex and physical energy, does just that. And think about how you feel energy-wise right now. I know you feel what we just did was voyeuristic and wrong, but you were the one who walked into it—and stayed there—because you know you felt something. Am I right?”

  “Yes,” POTUS said.

  “We have much work to do, and I want to talk to you about your son.”

  “Finally! My boy! I miss him so much. Ta
ke me to see him. I must speak to him one more time. Please make this experience worth it by showing me my son.”

  “I cannot take you to him now, but I can show him to you,” IRA said.

  “Now?”

  “Yes, now that you reconnected so strongly with the earthly energy of lust and human emotion, you will be able to use that to see him again.”

  POTUS was rocked to the core of his soul for the second time.

  IRA looked past him to see the Governor and an invisible Caleb turn to walk away, hoping they had not completely lost the POTUS to IRA and the Dark Forces for all eternity.… This Fallen Master in training would never be ready to help them—or the energy of the whole planet.

  * * *

  IRA knew that he was now permanently in control over the programming of the President of the United States. Revealing to him that his son was still alive and on that side of the veil would only secure more of his desire and interest to reconnect with him and it. This would act as the complete distraction and conduit that IRA and his dark masters would need to keep their overall plan of sweeping the earthly plane with fear and negativity and fueling their tanks to control and create more of the same energy. It was a beautiful plan—a very efficient system of energetic resource: control the source of energy and dominate the actions and currency of every living thing

  “Sounds like someone from your side of this equation is controlling the oil industry down there, IRA,” Caleb said as he manifested himself fully before his enemy.