Miracle in the Pit

The night was darker. Only a small torch lit up the damp dungeon cell. Visipus had been finally captured. The officials knew well the religious traditions. They knew that he would be among the lakes, baptizing new converts. It was forbidden to do so, as the followers of Jesus caused much chaos among the nation. 

Word had it that he did not resist. He was simply taken into custody by the guards. There were many heavily armed guards present, so some suspected that he accepted his fate. Some disagree because he was a built. He could have easily run away. Some said he was only buying time for the new converts to make their escape. 

Whatever it was, Visipus was now in prison, covered in dirt and moss. He was to be thrown into the infamous pit, one full of lions and gladiators with hundreds of seating surrounding it. It had been the spectacle for months now, a political gimmick. 

There was hope, however. If he managed to survive, he had the chance to be spared. Visipus was a warrior, one who knew no defeat in his battles. His strength was well known among men. His fierceness was compared to that of beasts. But, like all tragedies, he was to be thrown in without armor, without weapons. His hands were also to be tied. 

The night was longer for Visipus. Perhaps if he prayed desperately, God could grant him might strength like that of Samson, for Visipus knew all his victories had been God-given. Yet, the next morning, Visipus had his hands fastened behind his back, ropes still intact. No bars had been bent. No walls had been broken through. Visipus sat still, calmly in his cell.  

The pit was filled with crowds. Groups of hecklers and drunkards were shouting incoherent mockery. Gentler people also were present simply to enjoy an event. High officials came to gain a little political standing by showing off their commonness. Among the crowds, however, there were soldiers, cleverly disguised as just another audience. They were the followers of Visipus, the converts who once fought side by side with Visipus. They were all hiding a weapon beneath their clothes, ready to strike when time was right. 

Visipus was pushed in from a tiny plank above ground. He came down with a loud thud. He could not break his fall, hurting his head mightily. As he gathered himself, four lions growled towards him from around. Then entered the gladiators, six in total. They were all champions of battles before. Some were slaves to wealthy masters. Some simply enjoyed the spotlight. They all wanted to be the one to have slain Visipus. 

As the gladiators closed in on Visipus, he closed his eyes and remained ever so calm. 

Just then, from the crowds, a thundering shout called out a name. "Visipus!" And like that of a lightning flash, a shining spear pierced through and landed just below the feet of Visipus. It was the spear of Phinehas. It had been his family treasure since ages ago. Visipus was indeed the descendent of Phinehas, a family firm in their trust towards God. Thought the ancestors drifted away slowly to ill teachings of the Pharisees, Visipus recognized Jesus as the son of God by the Holy Spirit. 

Visipus quickly cut the ropes tying his hands with the spear. He grabbed it and spun it around with ease, beams of light blinding the gladiators fearful with each swing. Visipus took his battle stance, and all the gladiators took a step back in avarice. The torn garments he wore now seemed to be armor, impenetrable. 

Total silence. With a blink of an eye, anyone could be pinned to the ground by the man in rags. Visipus slowly moved his feet. No one wanted to be the first to move, lest he be fallen.

All of a sudden, Visipus plunged the spear into the ground. He stood guardless, almost helpless before the crowd. For a few seconds, everyone was left in shock, but soon the crowd roared even louder. The gladiators were still cautious, but they now gathered but the courage to approach him. One eager for fame lunged to attack Visipus.

Visipus slowly closed his eyes to accept his fate, but a loud scream forced his eyes open yet again. 

The lions began to maul the gladiators. One by one, they were torn to pieces, with each lion filling their appetite withe the remains of the freshly dead. The pit was in utter chaos. 

The lions, however, began to lie down, almost purring before Visipus. They gathered towards him, and laid low, guarding each inch of the mighty warrior. 

After the commotion had died down, the officials ordered the lions to be taken back into their cages. Soon, guards shielded around Visipus, and waited for the liberation of him granted by the highest ranked official present. 

As the official ordered the guards to take Visipus away, Visipus knew he would not be left alive. He would be executed without the knowledge of the people. It would be too dangerous for the officials, yet too risky to have publicly killed him amidst the crowd. The followers were ready to jump in and save Visipus, but Visipus saw through their intent and collectively shook his head. He knew that his time had come. He was glad to have been a witness to God deliverance. He was glad to now be finally with the one he loved.