This is about the coming of the messiah and the relegious utopia...my first story of this sort.

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Chapter 1- Beginning

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Robert leaned over his desk and thought “That Jones case is never going to end! Those money-sucking lawyers! If they keep holding off the trial, but don’t want settlement what do the want? Am I the only good lawyer in the United States?” He decided to put his papers away for a while and enjoy a drink.



He opened his desk drawer, where he found a bottle of Corona. Robert stood up and walked over to a glass cabinet in the corner of his office. He opened the case carefully and removed one of the carefully cleaned shot glasses. Robert walked back to his desk and sat down. He poured some Corona into the glass and drank it down quickly.



As usual the alcohol burned on the way down. He choked for a second and then poured another glass. First he planned to only have two shots, but he had been to frustrated to stop just then.



It was about 12:00 at night when Robert’s stumbling shadow passed over the firm’s parking lot. He was singing softly the song “99 bottles of beer on the wall” As he stumbled towards his car he caught a glance at some street punks sitting on the benches on the edge of the parking lot. He took no attention and continued towards his car. But the street punks took attention of Robert.



The leader of the punks walked over to Robert, grabbed him by the jacket and punched him in the face. Robert fell to the ground hard, to drunk to do anything. The man continued to punch and kick Robert in the back, while the other street punks laughed. Suddenly as if at command the street punks pulled out nightsticks and beat down on Robert’s back. Robert felt himself fall into the cold hands of unconsciousness.



When Robert woke up a few hours later, he found he was in a pile of mixed blood and vomit. Taking no heed Robert got up and stumbled towards his car. As he passed over his car’s rear view mirror he noticed something strange on his head. Figuring it was just some blood; Robert proceeded to his rear view mirror to wipe it off. He tried and found he could not.



Suddenly Robert began to feel quite funny. As if his brain was trying to escape his head. Then a strong, deep, booming voice appeared in his head.



“That mark is the mark of Cain, Robert! You are the Chosen One! To inhabit the soul of Elijah! Now I want you to say ‘Thus said the Lord….’ “

Ew, blood and vomit, bleh.

I'd be careful, bringing religion into this. It could start a flame war.

I don't like flame wars, no.

You are all right...This is one story not meant to see the light of day. To any i made mad, i apolagize...Moderators...Please close this topic, i have no wish for a flame war.

I accept your apology.



I didn't want to say anything in case I got told off. I'll forgive you. . .