Above ground in Vatican City, people were gathered shoulder to shoulder in Saint Peter’s Square. Many had gathered to pray in the aftermath of the attack on America, sensing the worst was yet to come. Several of the older Italian people seeking comfort in front of the huge church had lived through the horrors of World War II, and they knew how fragile peace was in a world so engulfed by fear, evil, and suspicion. One small flame could ignite a whole forest, and they had lived in the forest before.
The clear blue skies were beginning to be replaced by an army of rapidly moving black clouds flowing over the city like a dark curtain. A hot wind began to blow, while an eerie haze formed in front of the church, causing people to shrink with fear. Dust and paper flew from every crevice and swirled about Vatican City, forcing people to shield their eyes and seek cover.
Without warning, a young girl fell to the pavement and her eyes rolled up in her head. She began to speak with a strange, otherworldly voice in a language those close to her knew was not Italian. Two priests nearby grabbed the girl and began carrying her toward the church.
The people began to shout. “What’s happening?” They began to pray … Father, deliver us from evil!
The skies became darker as the wind grew in its ferocity. Solid objects like trash cans and chairs bounced across the pavement as people instinctively began running across the square in the direction of the church. Mothers grabbed small children as whole families ran from their homes toward the Basilica. They were blinded by the swirling dirt and debris, groping their way forward in the darkness until they reached the steps of the world’s largest church.
Together, the multitude stumbled and fell through the gigantic doors while turning to look back over their shoulders at the scene outside. It was now as dark as night, and the wind had a reddish cast to it.