Jeremiah Thorn
Up in the rugged mountains, surrounded by thick forests and a serenity untouched by the chaos of modern civilization, lived Jeremiah Thorn. A solitary man of simple yet profound faith, he was a lumberjack by trade and a KJV believer by heart. He spent his days chopping wood, hunting game with handcrafted snares, and fishing in the crystal-clear waters of a nearby lake. His cabin, weathered but sturdy, stood as a testament to his resilience and self-reliance. A small brook babbled nearby, providing him with fresh water even during the harsh winters.
Jeremiah was the kind of man the modern world might scoff at. His calloused hands bore the marks of decades of honest labor, and his sharp blue eyes hinted at a wisdom rooted in the scriptures he read daily. To some, he might have seemed “stupid” in the worldly sense—uninterested in the technologies and philosophies that captivated society—but Jeremiah possessed a deep understanding of life’s purpose, anchored in his unshakable belief in God.
He had been living in the mountains for over a decade, removed from the sprawling cities and their ever-tightening grip of technological control. The world below had changed in ways Jeremiah could scarcely imagine. A global government had risen, led by a charismatic figure who demanded allegiance to a new, unified religion. Compliance was enforced through the Mark, a chip implanted in the hand or forehead, without which no one could buy or sell. AI drones and robotic enforcers patrolled the cities and towns, ensuring obedience. Those who refused the Mark were labeled dissidents and dealt with swiftly.
Jeremiah knew of these developments only through whispers carried to him by the occasional traveler or scraps of news he overheard when venturing to the nearest village for supplies. But he had long resolved to stay out of the world’s affairs, trusting that God would guide him through whatever trials lay ahead. He spent his evenings by the fire, reading from his well-worn King James Bible, drawing strength from its words.
One bitterly cold winter night, as Jeremiah slept soundly in his cabin, a drone hovered silently above his property. It was a sleek, black machine, bristling with sensors and carrying a deadly payload. The globalists had discovered his existence through satellite surveillance. His refusal to comply with the new order made him a threat, a symbol of defiance they could not tolerate. Yet, they had no desire to damage the pristine wilderness or the quaint cabin that stood as a relic of a bygone era. The drone released a fine mist of VX gas, a lethal nerve agent, over the property before disappearing into the night.
Jeremiah woke the next morning, oblivious to what had occurred. He went about his routine, fetching water from the brook and checking his snares. By midday, he began to feel unwell. Dizziness and weakness overtook him, and he stumbled back to his cabin, clutching his Bible. Collapsing onto the wooden floor, he managed to whisper a prayer before slipping into unconsciousness. By evening, Jeremiah Thorn had passed from this world.
The globalists, monitoring from afar, sent another drone equipped with a heat-sensing camera to confirm his death. The cabin and surrounding property showed no signs of life. Satisfied, they waited for nature to cleanse the area. Months passed, with rain washing away the remnants of the gas, leaving the property safe for habitation once more.
The globalists had plans for the cabin. They selected two individuals who had embraced the new order and taken the Mark. A man and a woman, both strong, resourceful, and eager to live off the grid, were chosen to occupy the property. They were flown to the location by helicopter, accompanied by a team of technicians who installed surveillance equipment around the cabin and the surrounding forest. Cameras and sensors ensured that every movement and interaction on the property would be monitored.
The couple, unaware of the cabin’s tragic history, marveled at its rustic charm and the abundance of natural resources. They settled in, eager to prove their worth to the globalists by thriving in this remote wilderness. But the spirit of Jeremiah Thorn lingered in those mountains, and the scriptures he held dear had foretold of such times. The new occupants might have the Mark, but they would soon discover that survival in the wild required more than technology and compliance. It demanded faith, resilience, and the kind of wisdom Jeremiah had embodied.
As the surveillance cameras blinked silently in the trees, the couple’s every move watched by unseen eyes, the mountains stood as they always had—steadfast and indifferent to the schemes of men. And somewhere, in the eternal realm beyond, Jeremiah’s soul found peace, his life a quiet testimony to the enduring power of faith in a world that had lost its way.