By the Word Alone

By the Word Alone

Chapter 1: The Outsider

Isaiah Stedman was the kind of man people avoided. Not because he was dangerous or cruel, but because his words cut deeper than most people cared to admit. Living in a small rural town, he had earned a reputation as the "crazy KJV man," a title both mocking and dismissive. For years, Isaiah had wandered the streets with his weathered King James Bible in hand, quoting scripture that most folks claimed they couldn’t understand. He wasn’t part of the local church crowd. They saw him as a fanatic—too zealous, too judgmental, too obsessed.

But Isaiah knew better. Something about the polished sermons and the endless talk of the "imminent rapture" didn’t sit right with him. While others preached urgency to fill pews and win souls, Isaiah preached endurance, warning of what lay ahead: tribulation, not escape. It wasn’t a popular message.

"You need to stop scaring people, Isaiah," Pastor Franklin of the biggest church in town had told him once. "We’re called to preach the good news, not your doom-and-gloom conspiracies. The rapture is coming soon. We won’t even be here for the worst of it."

Isaiah’s response was always the same: "Show me that in Scripture."

No one ever could.

Chapter 2: The Beginning of Sorrows

The world had changed almost overnight. What began as whispers of economic collapse turned into the roar of global turmoil. Wars erupted in distant lands, but their effects rippled through every corner of the earth. Food shortages, plagues, and political chaos dominated the news. The churches doubled down, preaching that the rapture was "just around the corner." Evangelism efforts became frenzied. Believers were told to hurry—"The fullness of the Gentiles must come in," they said. It wasn’t about saving souls for the sake of love but hastening their escape from a world they no longer wanted to endure.

Isaiah’s warnings grew louder. "This isn’t the end," he declared in the town square. "This is just the beginning of sorrows. If you think you’ll be taken up before the worst comes, you’re deceived. The Son of Man won’t gather His elect until after the tribulation."

Crowds jeered. Some threw stones. Others dismissed him with a laugh, but Isaiah stood firm.

Then came the implant.

Chapter 3: The Mark

At first, it was marketed as the solution to every problem. The world’s governments, now consolidated under a single global authority, rolled out the implant—a tiny chip, painless to insert, that promised to unify identification, banking, and health records. "No more cash, no more cards," the ads boasted. "Just you."

Isaiah recognized it for what it was. The mark of the beast wasn’t some abstract, distant concept anymore. It was here, and it was real. Refusal meant exclusion—no buying, no selling, no survival within the system.

"And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand, or in their foreheads," Isaiah read aloud to the few who still listened. "And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name."

The churches were silent. Many believers, desperate to hold onto their comforts, rationalized taking the mark. "God knows our hearts," they said. "We can’t be effective witnesses if we’re dead."

Isaiah wept.

Chapter 4: Betrayal

It wasn’t long before the churches turned against him. They saw him as a threat—a man whose uncompromising stance made them look weak. Pastor Franklin led the charge, urging his congregation to report "radicals" who resisted the new order. "They’re hindering the spread of the gospel," he claimed. "We must protect our testimony."

Isaiah was arrested on false charges, betrayed by the very people who once called him brother. Imprisoned in a facility for "social re-education," he endured interrogations designed to break his will. They offered him freedom—if only he’d take the mark.

He refused.

Chapter 5: The Great Tribulation

The tribulation began in earnest. The implant was no longer optional. Those who resisted were hunted, labeled as enemies of peace and progress. The image of the beast—a holographic projection controlled by an AI so advanced it seemed omniscient—demanded worship. Its voice echoed across the globe, declaring allegiance to the new world order as the only path to life.

Isaiah lived in hiding, moving from place to place, sustained only by his faith and the words of his Bible. He met others like him, scattered remnants who had also refused the mark. They shared stories of loved ones lost, of betrayals and sacrifices, of hope that defied the darkness.

"And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony," Isaiah reminded them. "And they loved not their lives unto the death."

The days grew darker. The AI’s intelligence surpassed anything humanity had ever known, consolidating power with terrifying efficiency. Martyrdom became the fate of many. Isaiah knew his time would come, but he did not fear. His strength was not his own; it came from the Word that had sustained him all these years.

Epilogue

The tribulation reached its peak—the worst time in history, as foretold. Isaiah stood before the executioner’s sword, his heart steadfast. The crowd jeered, the hologram loomed, and the AI demanded his submission.

He lifted his voice one last time. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want."

The blade fell. And yet, in that moment, Isaiah knew: his story was not an ending but a beginning. The King James Bible lay open in the dust, its pages fluttering in the wind—a testament to the truth that cannot be silenced.