Mercy 3 of 3

Part 3 of 3

Guy McClung



In torment now, unable to resist, words came from Clement’s mouth, as if from a caged predator, “Pacabanab  . . . and legion.” The demonic words echoed around the room as if it was a canyon in hell.

Jerry continued. “By the living God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,” he made the Sign of the Cross continually toward Jessica Miriam Clement as he spoke, “I command you, serpent, and all you with it, to leave this woman and return to the everlasting fire prepared for you.”

Clement’s body slowly levitated from the chair and then was thrown violently around the room as she wailed and screamed.

While she was being tossed like a doll against the mirrored wall of the control room, Jerry quietly said: “I cast you out, Pacabanab and all you unclean spirits, along with every satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your evil companions; in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

He made the Sign of the Cross and continued to do so as he spoke. “Begone and stay far from this creature of God. For it is Jesus Christ who commands you, He who flung you headlong from the heights of heaven into the depths of hell. It is He who commands you, He who once stilled the sea and the wind and the storm. Hearken, therefore, and tremble in fear, you enemies of the faith, you foes of the human race, you begetters of death, you robbers of life, you corrupters of justice, you root of all evil and vice; seducers of men, betrayers of the nations, instigators of envy, fonts of avarice, fomentors of discord, authors of pain and sorrow. Why, then, do you stand and resist, knowing as you must that Jesus Christ the Lord brings your plans to nothing? Fear Him, and begone, then, in the name of the Father, and of Jesus Christ the Son,  and of the Holy  Spirit. Give place to the Holy Spirit by this sign of the holy cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, who lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever.”

Like a torrent of filth going down a storm sewer, the evil demons left her and flowed from the room. Her body was slumped over the table.  Her face covered with blood and filth, she sat up and stared at Jerry.

“Hello, Jessica Miriam Clement,” he said. “I am Father Jerry Christianson.” The stench was gone, the room was warm and quiet.

Then Jessica’s face and body became clean and fresh, even glowing. She looked at her hands and then looked up, glancing around the room as if at a place that was foreign to her. Two agents outside the room in the corridor had fallen unconscious as Jerry prayed, and the other woman in the control room, the decoy, who had begun vomiting and writhing on the floor, was now still.

Willoughby, who had been forced up against the control room wall, was released, but he could not hear what was going on. He punched and twisted buttons and switches, but there was no sound. He saw Jerry and Jessica  talking, but the door to the interrogation could not be opened.

Jessica  was confused. “What is happening?”

“Please hear me. I have a message for you, it is for you alone, from God.”

Jessica did not laugh, nor did she rise to leave.

Willoughby realized he could not hear what was going on. He left the control room and walked into the corridor. He could not open the door to the interrogation, nor could any of the other agents turn the doorknob.

Jerry looked at Jessica. “You will die in twelve days. You have seen what has happened. You know you are one of the most powerful persons still living, yet you are alive. You have turned God’s people from Him. God has sent you to me so I can tell you He loves you. You are to be given a chance to be truly sorry for all you have done, all of it, going back twenty four years, and you are being given this special grace from Him. It is your choice, as it was those years ago when you welcomed the first demon, and then the evil cohorts.”

Jessica thought back to that first demonic blood ritual to which she had been invited in Manhattan, with the politicians and the actors, the producers and the actresses, the criminals and the doctors and nurses, and the many that had followed in Washington D.C. and Los Angeles. “What ‘chance’ if I am to die?”

“God knows the earthly power you have, the power you exercise daily, and how you have subverted and abused that power. You now have the chance to use that power to speak and spread the truth so that the world will know the message He has sent me to proclaim. You are free to choose to be His loving instrument. You are also free to choose, even now, to beseech the demons to return. If you do, you will die, pitifully, and they will be with you, screaming, as they usher you into hell.”

“There is not enough mercy, not enough forgiveness.” She bowed her head and began to shake, and weep. She had not felt so free in many years.

“This is your choice. You are free to choose. But do not doubt, because Jesus died for you and your sins, do not think there is not enough mercy, not enough love, no forgiveness,” said Jerry.  “If you choose, if you repent, you will have eleven days. And you will be free of the evil that you welcomed and that then held you.”

“What am I to do?”

“You control the world’s information.”

She laughed. So few had known that or even suspected that Trip F existed. “But we could not stop you. Nothing worked. It was as if another power had taken over. Amazing”

“I do not mean to sound foolish or insane; but you must know that this is the power of God, God Almighty. What power you and your superiors thought you had was nothing, absolutely nothing. If you repent and if you agree, it is you who will have His message, which I will give you now, proclaimed to the ends of the earth, to all nations.”

She did not deny that she could do this. This is what FFF did every day.  “Message?”

“You have seen what He told me to say. It is true. I will be given more which I will tell you. It will bring hope to those who believe. It will be the power of the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God.”

Jessica paused. Then she said, “I don’t know if I can say this, but I will try to do His will. His will be done.”

Jerry nodded and began to tell her what had now been revealed to him, what she would add to God’s message for the world.


The next morning, media around the world, radio, television, cellphone screens, screens in bars, in airports, in restaurants, in homes, in automobiles and ships, buses, trains, and planes, screens and radio in public places around the world instantaneously presented Jessica speaking in  a calm, confident, clear voice. Each heard in his or her own language.


“Thus says the Lord God, your heavenly Father, your Brother Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit that enlivens and enlightens the whole world,” she looked straight into the camera. Her speech was being broadcast in real time. “Repent and return to Me, My beloved children. For yet a little while now be still and trust in Me. Each of you is precious to me. I am. I am here. I am your loving God. Repent and return to Me. My love for you is unlimited. For this each of your was made in our likeness, and each of you is good. For this each of you can freely choose to make good and avoid evil. I am calling the hirelings and the wolves. They cannot resist me and they will be brought to Me by My archangels.  I will deal with them. They will no longer lead you astray. I will send you true shepherds to lead you in the way of goodness. Repent and return to me.”

Jessica then repeated the message that Jerry had already proclaimed. She ended, “Each of you, each of you one of My precious children, repent and return to Me.”

The next morning, Jerry awoke  and then his chains fell from him and onto the floor. He knelt in his cell and thanked God for another glorious day. No one outside the cell in the corridor moved, no one said a word, as he walked out. He turned a corner to see Jessica coming towards him.

Silently, for a few moments, she held his hands in hers. Then they spoke and prayed. For almost an hour, she told him her sins. Then he absolved her of all of them.

“And your Father wants you to know,” said Jerry, “since you have chosen, as your conscience, His voice, has spoken to  you, you will see your four children whom you have never held, touched or kissed on this earth.”


Within forty eight hours the world had changed.  People walked everywhere, happy, openly praising God. Churches overflowed round the clock. Governments came to a standstill. As those in power became more enraged, their orders to their supporters, servants, minions, and underlings became more and more frantic, useless words ignored both by the evil ones plotting to succeed them and by the good ones who simply walked out. Some, in humility, did repent and join the crowds seeking forgiveness; but many relied on their own inner evil, thinking that, as always, it would be their salvation, that the evil ones they served would protect them from God.


Ten days later, those unrepentant ones were stunned as they began to suffer and die. Those who had come to contrition suffered, but their agony was lessened. Videos of Jessica Miriam Clement, as she disintegrated, showed a woman who suffered almost not at all, and then she smiled as she died, her mouth moving with unheard words. She was joyous.


Willoughby was still there after the twenty-eighth day had passed. He knew some of the newly-dead, worked with several of them.  Some, including the pope, were no surprise to him; but so many were virtual unknowns outside the secret evil echelons of governments and of power around the world. He knew what he had had seen, what he had heard. He knew if not with those of the forty days, he most certainly would be with those on the fifty-fifth day. He stood up from his desk and walked down the corridors out of the building. Entering the sunlight, he looked up and said “Yes.”


At the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, the lines for confession spilled out into the parking lots and along Michigan Avenue and the side streets. Willoughby walked up to the end of one of the the lines and took a rosary from his pocket.


Miles from El Paso, Father Jerry Christianson knelt in the grass outside his church and said a prayer for the repose of the soul of his bishop; then he looked up at the West Texas sky and said, Deo Gratias!”


Copyright GM 2017


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