Harvest of the Forbidden
As
Daniel lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with the faint glow of the moon peeking through his window, sleep eluded him. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that sleep refused to wrap him in its warm embrace, leaving him adrift in a sea of restless thoughts. Two questions circled in his mind, refusing to let go.
made the Seven Books of Moses demonic?
And why would anyone write such a thing if it was so dangerous? What
To his young mind, demons were monstrous creatures, grotesque with fiery tails, enormous horns, and a penchant for spreading chaos. But a book? A harmless stack of paper bound together with words inked on its surface—how could that be demonic? The concept confounded him, and the more he thought about it, the more his curiosity grew like a wildfire consuming every rational thought.
Earlier that evening, Daniel had posed an innocent question to his mother.
"Mum, what's the Seven Books of Moses?" he had asked, his tone reflecting nothing more than honest interest.
His mother, who had been busy slicing afang leaves for dinner, froze mid-motion. Her knife hovered above the cutting board as her eyes locked onto his, wide with disbelief.
"What did you say?" she asked, her voice laced with alarm.
Taken aback by her reaction, Daniel hesitated before repeating his question.
"DON'T EVER HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THAT BOOK! IT'S DEMONIC," she declared, her voice stern and unwavering.
"But what makes it demonic?" Daniel pressed, his curiosity refusing to be silenced.
His mother's expression darkened, and for a moment, he thought she might scold him. Instead, she shook her head as if trying to dispel the thought entirely. "Just read your Bible," she replied sharply, her tone brooking no further argument.
Daniel's mind raced as he lay in bed that night, replaying the encounter. A book is demonic? he thought, grappling with the idea. Then what about my class textbook? Or the storybooks in the library? Could they also be demonic without me knowing?
He turned onto his side, clutching his pillow as though it could anchor him in his swirling sea of thoughts. The more he pondered, the more the concept intrigued him. His mother's refusal to explain only deepened his resolve to uncover the truth.
"I'll ask Saviour to bring it to school," he decided, the thought taking root in his mind. "I need to know how to differentiate between demonic and holy books so I won't accidentally read something I shouldn't."
But deep down, Daniel knew this was only an excuse—a flimsy justification for his disobedience. His curiosity had grown into an uncontrollable beast, and he had no intention of taming it.
The next day at school, Daniel cornered Saviour during lunch break. The boastful boy, always eager to share his exaggerated tales, was more than willing to indulge Daniel's questions.
"Did you bring it?" Daniel whispered as they stood behind the classroom block, away from prying eyes.
Saviour smirked, pulling his bag closer. "I did, but you can't take it home. My father would kill me if he found out."
Daniel's heart raced. "Then let me just see it. Please, Saviour."
Saviour opened his bag, revealing a book with a worn cover. The title, The Seven Books of Moses, was scrawled in bold letters, and the sight of it sent a thrill through Daniel's veins.
"Can I hold it?" he asked, his voice trembling with anticipation.
Saviour shook his head. "No. You can touch the first page, but that's it."
Carefully, Saviour flipped the book open to the first page and held it out. Daniel reached out, his fingers brushing against the paper. In that moment, something ignited within him—a spark of obsession that would consume him for years to come.
He stared at the strange symbols and words written on the page, their meanings foreign and mysterious. His mind raced with possibilities. Was this the key to unlocking miracles? Could this book give him the power to heal the sick, to cast out demons, to bring light into the world's darkness?
"Do you know what it says?" Daniel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Saviour shrugged. "No. My dad says it's dangerous to even read it."
Daniel's gaze lingered on the page, his thoughts spiraling. Dangerous or not, the allure of the unknown was too strong to resist. The brief encounter with the book left an indelible mark on his young mind, planting the seeds of an obsession that would shape his life in unexpected ways.
That night, as he lay in bed once more, Daniel couldn't stop thinking about the book. Its mysterious symbols danced in his mind, taunting him with their secrets. His desire to understand the supernatural—to wield its power—grew stronger with each passing moment.
Maybe I'm destined to use this knowledge for good, he thought. To save people from their pain. Isn't that what God would want?
But another voice whispered in the recesses of his mind, sowing doubt and fear. What if your mum was right? What if this book leads you down a path you can't return from?
Daniel shook his head, trying to silence the voice. His obsession had already taken root, and he couldn't let it go.
Days turned into weeks, and though Saviour never let him see the book again, the memory of that single page lingered in Daniel's mind. He began to devour every religious text he could find, searching for answers to the questions that plagued him. His obsession with the supernatural grew, intertwining with his deep desire to serve God.
on his journey years later, Daniel would wonder if this was the moment when his innoc Reflecting ence began to unravel. The allure of the forbidden, the tantalizing promise of power—it had all seemed so harmless at the time.
Or had it?
Perhaps the devil, sensing the budding faith of a young soul, had sought to plant a seed of his own. A seed of curiosity, watered by disobedience and nurtured by ignorance, that would grow into a thorny vine of doubt and temptation.
Or perhaps it was simply human nature—the insatiable desire to know, to understand, to possess knowledge beyond one's grasp.
Whatever the case, one thing was certain: the encounter with The Seven Books of Moses had set Daniel on a path he could never have anticipated—a path that would challenge his faith, his identity, and his very understanding of the world.