Table of Contents
| 1. Strategies of Wickedness 1 |
| 2. Room of Preparation In Heaven |
| 3. Strategies of Wickedness 2 |
Excerpt
Strategies of Wickedness 1
Once again, the electromagnetic frequencies pierced into her eardrums smothering the atmosphere. Wearily she drifted off to sleep in that she experienced the terribleness of the unknown all that night! Clueless of what was manifesting she fought insomuch that whatever assaulted her weakened.
This continued until one morning, it was revealed to her in a dream this same relative who was responsible for most of the evil conjured up against us. She had bolted the front door of the flat securely where they had grown up. Instantly, a demon in human form appeared but was unable to gain access. With strategy, it knocked very softly at the door. Although she let out a warning that in no wise should this thing be given access, ignoring the severity of the warning, this relative ran to unbolt the door and gleefully chatted with what was forbidden to enter.
Within seconds, she showed a clean pair of heels, bolting the attic door when evil raged violently. It had the ability to smell where she took refuge. She noticed that evil exerted through its smell and sight. Its power to sniff shredded any door she had bolted. In this frightful situation, she opened her eyes much shaken.
What actually happened in her dream manifested evil fire which covered her futon. In many encounters, its powers of smell and sight were neutralised, cast into a vortex of fire and was cast back to sender, in Jesus’ Name.
Twisted, evil strategies manifested as intertwined warfare continued. While her spirit discerned that a shift had taken place, she came face to face with the unexpected. Manifesting unusually, was the same generational wicked spirit which to all appearance was the Chinese female. Warfare had raged for months especially when I began menstruating.
I became very, very sick and thought I was going to die, vomiting until I almost collapsed. I could not eat or sleep as I rolled and twisted on my bed. One morning, my mother heard my desperation and hurried to my bedside. “I have to forgive this certain relative (name),” I blurted out as demonic claws began shredding. I moaned and groaned and twisted in agony, my face said it all. I was in a bad state.