Miles Peterson Jr. walked into San Jose High School, and for a split second wondered if his education was worth it. San Jose High was a private school in funding and record keeping only. It had been marketed to parents as a “safe and Christian environment for young people to learn real world skills that will help them later in life.” When in reality, it was more like a zoo. No, it wasn’t like a zoo; zoos have some semblance of order. Monkeys don’t get in cages with lions, and bears can’t get in with the penguins. But as Miles looked around at the cacophony of students, all clamoring to get into their lockers, a few of them swapping cigarettes and other things they really shouldn’t be having, he considered getting a petition to rename the school “San Jose Mad House.”

Still, it was technically a Christian school, and unfortunately the only one in reasonable distance, so it was either the mad house, or the “den of vipers” as his father called public schools. The senior Peterson always had a flair for the dramatic, and Miles had attributed it to his father’s past adventures. Taking a breath, Miles steeled himself and stepped amongst the throng of students. At a few inches shy of six feet, Miles wasn’t anything to look twice at, but he wasn’t bad looking either. He had dark hair and eyes like his father, but a much slimmer and athletic figure inherited from his mother, one that let him blend in without being considered too skinny or too bulky. A little chameleon, his mom used to call him when she was still alive.

As he shuffled through the slog of other humans, all of whom seemed to refuse to move or walk themselves, he noticed his friend Bonnie near her locker. He smiled at her and made his way over, but stopped a few steps short when he noticed her sullen composition. Bonnie typically greeted every day with a smile, it was one of the things he liked about her. But today, for whatever reason, she looked downtrodden, as though a great weight was on her shoulders. That didn’t seem right, and Miles approached her. “Hey, Bonnie,” he said, a soft smile on his face.

His friend looked up and returned the smile, though it was half-hearted at best. “Hey.” Her normally bright and cheery voice was now soft and meek, as if gathering the energy to say just that one word was more than she had.

“Everything ok? You look down. Did your cat die?”
Bonnie shut her locker with a shake of her head, her blonde hair shaking as she did so. She kept it close to her shoulders, never letting it get too long or too short, and while normally she had it brushed smooth and shining, today it was frizzy and dull, almost like she’d rolled out of bed and not even bothered to shower. “No, my cat didn’t die, but everything isn’t ok…”

“Well what’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?” Miles leaned against the wall of lockers with his shoulder.

She sighed and looked up at him. “You know how we got that new counselor here at school?”

“Yeah, I heard. What’s his name? Doctor Dee?”

“Yeah. Anyway, with my parents divorcing, I… figured I’d go see him, thought that might make things better.”

“And?”

Another sigh. “Well, I mean, I saw him and talked to him, but… it didn’t make anything better.”

“Well, these things take time. It won’t be an instant fix.”
“No, I know that, but… I feel like it’s almost worse, yah know?” She looked up at him. “I feel like my world is falling apart. Like it’s not even worth getting out of bed sometimes. Does that make sense?”

“Well, I mean your words make sense, but I guess I just can’t relate. I mean, sure, I have off days too, but if this is happening a lot, then maybe you need to see Doctor Dee again.”

Bonnie nodded. “Yeah. Maybe…” She looked up. “Hey… could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, sure, anything.” Miles straightened his posture, keeping eye contact with her.

“It’s… kind of embarrassing, going to see a counselor like that… would you maybe see him a couple times too? I just… it would make me feel a little better if I wasn’t the only one, you know?”

“Yeah, totally! Makes complete sense,” Miles lied. He didn’t want to see a counselor, not with a pastor for a father. That was a can of worms he did not feel like opening. But he said he’d do it, so now he had too. Lying through his teeth to help a friend feel better was one thing, but not following up was something else. “I’ll make an appointment for this afternoon, ok?”

Bonnie smiled again, only this time it seemed genuine. “Thank you so much.” She wrapped her arms around Miles’ torso and pulled him into a hug before walking off to her first class.

As the hours went by, Miles tried to find a way to get out of going to see Doctor Dee, but no solution presented itself. He stood outside the door to the counselor’s office, which had the man’s name printed on a gold colored plate: Dr. Mel Oncoly Dee, M.D., PhD. With another deep breath, he knocked on the door. “Come in!” a voice called from inside.

As Miles opened the door, he took a quick look around the office. Shelves of books to his left and right, a desk right in front of him set near the back wall with the window behind it, and two chairs for students to sit. Doctor Dee looked up from some paperwork to see Miles. “Ah! You must be young Miles Peterson,” he said, a southern drawl in his voice. A little out of place in a town like San Jose, but not strictly unusual.

Miles nodded. “Yeah, that’s me.” He set his bag down on the ground as he sat down and got a better look at the counselor. He was an older gentleman, in his sixties at least. Completely bald, save for the few remnants of hair that stubbornly stayed near his ears, as well as a thick, bushy white mustache that hung on his upper lip like a caterpillar. He peered at Miles through thick wire rimmed glasses that looked like they could pick up cable.

“So, what brings you by, young man?” he asked. “Troubles at home? With the fairer sex?”

“N-no, nothing like that,” Miles stammered. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Honestly, my friend just asked me to come. She’s going through a rough patch and she came to visit you. She just asked me to come for moral support.”

“Ah, of course!” He smiled. “I understand completely. That’s a mighty fine thing you’re doin’ for her.” He settled back into his chair. “But I would feel better if you knew that I’m here for you, too. Don’t be afraid of speakin’ your mind.”

“I appreciate that.” Miles shrugged. “I don’t really have much to talk about. I mean, sure, school has its stressful moments, but other than that, I don’t really have anything to talk about.”

“That a fact? Everything’s good on the home front?”

“Yeah. My dad and I are doing good. We grate each other sometimes, but other than that we’re good.”

“Grate each other?” He leans forward. “You mind explaining that a bit?”

Miles shrugged again. “You know. We just don’t agree on some things. Like, for example, I really like this sci-fi show on TV, but this one time it had aliens in it that looked a little bit like angels, so he told me he didn’t want me watching it anymore.”

“Does that make you upset?” Doctor Dee leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. “The show wasn’t doin’ nothin’ wrong, now, was it?”

“No, not strictly. And sure, sometimes I wish I could watch it, but I know he’s just doing his best to look out for me.”

“Is he now?” Doctor Dee looked at Miles intently through his glasses. “Are you sure he ain’t just trying to control you?” Miles opened his mouth to respond, but stopped just short as something came over him. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like a raincloud had passed over his head. If the school counselor noticed, he didn’t say anything. “Now, I ain’t one to pry into how a man raises his boy, but it sounds to me like he’s bein’ just a tad bit over protective. After all, a show is just a show. I don’t see how that makes any sorta difference.”

Miles pressed his palm to his forehead. “I… you’re right…” He looked back up to the older man. “You’re right. My dad is controlling me…” He looked back down to his lap. “He’s controlling me, and I never knew.”

“Now, now, don’t blame yourself. Not many would see it.” Doctor Dee stood up and walked around his desk, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of.”

Miles nodded and stood to his feet. “Thanks, Doc,” he said.

“My pleasure. Now, I want to schedule another meetin’ with you in the next couple of days. That sound alright to you?”

Miles only nodded again as he walked out of the office, head hanging low and cloud over his head. He meandered through the day, not even paying much attention to the classes, which was highly unusual for him. As his school day ended, he waited outside for his father to come pick him up. The senior Peterson pulled up in front of the school, and his son slipped into the passenger side. “How was school?” he asked, smiling at the boy. Miles looked up at his father, not saying a word. “Is something wrong? You look down.”

“Nothing’s wrong…” he muttered.

“Are you sure? This isn’t like you…”

Miles Jr. propped his elbow on the door and rested his hand on his chin. “Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated.

Miles Sr. wanted to press it further, but decided not to. Instead, he started driving back towards their house. After a few more moments of silence, the older man looked over at his son with soft, worried eyes. “Miles, Bible Quiz,” he said suddenly. His son squirmed in his seat, but didn’t protest. “What verse tells us to focus on good things?”

Miles squirmed once more in his seat. “I don’t wanna…” he whined.

“Come on, son. This is an easy one. What verse tells us to focus on good things?”

With a sigh, the boy sat straight. “Phillipians 4:8…” he said finally.

“Right! And what does it say?”

He sighed. “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things.”

“Right!” The car stopped at a red light. “So, mind telling me what you’re thinking about that’s got you so down? Cause I’m willing to bet it’s not excellent or praiseworthy.”

“It’s just…” He turned to look up at his father. “You control me.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“The show! You won’t let me watch my show!”

“Miles… we’ve been over this before, I thought you accepted it.”

“Yeah, well maybe I’ve gotten a new perspective! You know, Doctor Dee at school seems to think that I’m right! It’s just a show! Why do you get to say what I watch or don’t watch?”

“Because I’m your father!” Miles Sr. raised his voice as he started driving with the rest of traffic. “What is wrong with you? You’ve never acted like this before.”

“I… I…” The boy looked at his hands. “I don’t know…” He wrapped his arms around himself. “I… I feel cold. This isn’t right…”

“Ok, just hang on, I’m going to get you home, ok?” The two drove in silence the rest of the way to their family manor. Once upon a time, the house would have been a grand house, worthy of MTV cribs, but thanks to people like Bill Gates with their fancy mansions and enormous property taxes, the Peterson home was more a footnote on Google Earth. Neither of them cared, though. It was still a nice house, and they called it home.

As they pulled into the garage, Miles Jr. hopped out of the car. “I’m gonna go downstairs,” he said softly.

“Are you sure? If you don’t feel well- “

“I just need to be alone for a bit, ok?” His father nodded and let him go. The boy walked down the stairs to the basement. Once upon a time, it had been the central hub of activity for the masked hero Bibleman. Now, it served as a sort of shared man cave for the Peterson men. They used it for Bible studies, homework, sometimes even just to watch Netflix, though UNICE was never happy about that.

Setting his bag down, he sat down and rested his head on the desk with a soft thud. “Is everything alright?” a soft, feminine voice asked.

“No, UNICE, everything isn’t alright…” He looked up at the computer screen in front of him. “I’ve been feeling off all day. Like a raincloud has been over my head.”

“I don’t know about a raincloud,” UNICE said softly. “But I can tell you that you’re covered in a transphasic plasma that’s concentrated around your head.”

“A… what?” He sat up and scooted the chair forward a little bit.

UNICE pulled up a holographic image of Miles Jr. and showed a faint red aura around his head. “A transphasic plasma. I detected it as soon as you stepped inside. Perhaps this is what is causing your raincloud.”

“Any idea how I could have gotten it?”

“I am unsure. However, the most likely cause is that at some point in the day, you were exposed to a highly concentrated burst of energy.” The image disappeared, returning to the standard display.

“I don’t know how, I felt fine until…” He cut himself off in realization. “Until I saw Doctor Dee…” He pondered silently for a moment before looking up at the computer screen again. “UNICE… could the armor protect me from the transphasic plasma?”

“It is possible; however, the armor has not been used in some time. Why do you ask?”

“I have a theory about this mysterious Doctor Dee I’d like to test. If he is who I think he is, it might be time to break it back out of the closet.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Me too.” Miles stood and walked back up the stairs to find his father. “Dad… I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you, son.” Father embraced son tightly. “You know I only look out for you.”

“I know. But somehow I get the feeling that there’s something more sinister afoot than rainclouds and bad days.”

“What do you plan to do about it?”

“Test my theory and pray to God I’m wrong…”

“Alright. But just in case, I have something for you.”

The next day, Miles Jr. was dropped off at school after a quick prayer in the car with his father. The boy walked into the building, and he could feel his heart in his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage in anxiety. He slipped through the throng of students towards Doctor Dee’s office, but stopped just outside of it. He could hear voices inside. Setting his bag on the ground, he pressed up against the wall and did his best to listen in.

The voices were muffled through the door, but he managed to identify Doctor Dee speaking with a female. He heard soft crying, as well as what he swore was the soft whine of a machine powering up. Fearing the worst, he grasped the handle and stepped inside, needing to know the truth. His worst fears were confirmed, as he saw Bonnie sitting in the same seat he’d been in the day previous, a red glow around her head coming from a device that was hanging from a hidden panel in the ceiling.

Doctor Dee looked up and saw Miles, and as they locked eyes for a moment, the both of them knew what would come next. Miles shut the door quickly before Bonnie could see him, and snatched up his bag and ran down the hall back out to the courtyard. With no cars in sight, no one to hitch a ride with, he tried to catch his breath and decide what to do next. To stay in the school was beyond a bad idea, but he couldn’t fight back without his father’s old armor.

His thoughts were interrupted by the smooth southern drawl of Doctor Dee. “So… Miles Peterson Jr…” Miles whirled around to see the man walk out, hands stuffed in his pockets. “It’s true, ain’t it? Your pop used to be Bibleman back in the day, didn’t he?” Miles could only nod. Doctor Dee started laughing. “They told me! They told me it was a bad idea to set up shop in this here town! Ol’ Luxor, he told me ‘You set up there, you’ll only get that spandex wearing Bible-thumper for your troubles.’ I told him he was worrying too much. ‘He ain’t been around in years!’ I told him. ‘Won’t be no trouble!’” He looked at the boy, who was stepping back away from the school counselor. “Course now… I’m gonna have to make some changes to the school roster.” He pulled his hands from his pocket, holding a remote in his hands. “This here is a smaller version of the machine you saw. It’s a tad more powerful, not something I like to use. Can’t have kids dropping like flies from depression left and right every time I talk to them, can I? Still, I don’t think anyone will notice you going crazy.”

“Wait, you’re going to kill me?” Miles stopped his retreat and stood, confused. “Isn’t that a little dark? I mean I signed on for a Bibleman reboot, there was never any death!”

“Naw, see, this is your dark origin story; the jokes don’t come until the next episode.”

“But wouldn’t that just put us in the same category as the Justice League movie?”

“Naw, we can get away with it because only like five people are gonna end up reading this anyway, so it won’t really matter.”

“Oh.” Miles shrugged, seemingly ok with that answer. He jumped back as a red beam flew passed his head from the remote in his adversary’s hand. Reaching into his bag, he yanked out two bracers that he rushed to slip onto his wrists. Doctor Dee raised his weapon and fired again, forcing Miles to dive into the grass to his left to avoid. Only now, there was nowhere left to go. The bald man smiled widely as he prepared to fire again. As the red beam fired from the tip of the remote, Miles threw his arms up, a shimmering force field appearing in front of him from the bracers. The beam hit the energy field and bounced off into the air, Doctor Dee snapping his head up to watch it go while Miles scrambled to his feet.

“How?” he demanded. “How did you do that?”

Miles just smirked as he held his arms high, the force field remaining. “A gift from my dad! These babies were designed by my Uncle Coats, strong enough to block even the toughest of your depression beams!”

In anger, the monster in disguise fired three more beams, each of them blocked by the force field Miles held in front of him. “Alright boy,” Dee growled. “You win this round! But you won’t win the war!” He ran back into the building just as the bell rang, signaling the end of first period.

Miles shut off the bracers and slumped onto the ground, panting from adrenaline. “Oh… oh, thank you Lord…” He covered his face in his hands, trying to get his breathing under control. “’I love you, Lord, my strength…’” he whispered the Psalm softly to himself. “’The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. I called to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I have been saved from my enemies.’” As his breathing settled down, he looked up to see his father’s car pulling up in front of him.

The senior Peterson hopped out of the car and ran over to his son. “Miles!” He dropped to a knee next to him. “Miles, are you alright? UNICE detected you activated the bracers.”

“Yeah, Dad… yeah, I’m fine.” He stood to his feet, brushing his backside. “Thanks to you, and thanks to these.” He looked the bracers over. “I was right. Doctor Dee isn’t what he seems to be. He has a ray of some kind, a device that lets him suck all the joy out of people and make them depressed.” He looked up at his father who had stood up with him. “Dad… he said he knows Luxor Spawndroth.”

His father sighed. “Then I guess we have no choice then. If the forces of evil have returned, then it’s time for Bibleman to return as well.”

“Dad, you haven’t worn that suit in years! There’s no way you’ll be able to start this up all over again!”

A smirk came over the older man’s face. “Who said anything about me wearing it?”

“You mean… me? Dad, I only asked UNICE about the armor because I didn’t know you had these bracers. I can’t be Bibleman, you’re Bibleman!”

“Son, Bibleman is not just one man.” Miles Sr. put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Bibleman can be anyone; anyone willing to follow the words of Jesus and be obedient to His calling.”

Miles Jr. looked at his hands, which were still shaking slightly, but were beginning to calm down. “Ok, Dad. I’ll do it.”

“Great. Come on.” He pulled his son towards the car. “It’s time to get to work.”

That night, Doctor Dee worked feverishly on his device in his office. “Stupid Bible-thumper! Ruining a perfectly good plan! I had it all figured out! I was gonna make all these stupid kids so depressed they’d all keep seeing me, and all their parents would pull them out of this stupid little Christian school!”

“All things considered, that’s not a bad plan,” a familiar voice said. Doctor Dee’s head snapped up from his work to see the very boy who had ruined his plans.

“You!” He stood to his feet, tearing his glasses from his face. “You ruined everything! Now I have no choice but to unleash a beam of depression energy so powerful that everyone will be on Prozac for years! Not even God will be able to heal them!”

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to stop you before you can do that.”

“And what do you plan to do? You don’t even have those stupid bracers of yours!”

“No, but I have this!” From his back pocket, Miles pulled out a device that looked like an oversized belt buckle with a large golden cross emblazoned on the front of it. Pressing the device against his belt, he slapped his palm on the cross. “Ephesians 6:11 says ‘Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.’ UNICE, execute full armor sequence!”

A mechanical whir sounded from beneath his palm, as well as the whine of energy buildup. From the buckle, and entire belt sprung forth, wrapping around his hips. “Waistbelt of Truth!” he called out. From the belt, small arcs of energy crawled up his chest and began to form a chest piece and shoulder pauldrons. “Breastplate of Righteousness!” The energy continued down his arms and began to form greaves and armored gloves. “Shield of Faith!” The energy that traveled down his legs began forming armored pieces for them, too, but they were designed to give him protection without sacrificing mobility. The energy travelled down to his feet, creating hardened boots that looked like they were heavy enough to stomp through concrete. “Shoes of Peace!” The last of the energy crawled up his neck and formed a hardened cowl before dissipating. “Helmet of Salvation!”

Miles looked at his opponent, fists resting on his hips, the final remnants of energy falling down his shoulders to form a cape that fell to his ankles. The armor was an upgrade from what Bibleman had worn all those years ago, all black with silver highlights, cutting an impressive figure. “Full armor sequence, complete,” UNICE chirped from the belt.

“Well now, ain’t that cute? Dear old Daddy made you some fancy new armor?” From within his desk, Doctor Dee produced a bladed weapon that glowed brightly. The core was white hot, and it emanated a purplish-red aura that practically oozed evil. “But I don’t imagine that will hold up too well!” He walked around his desk and moved to swing his blade down, but Bibleman flicked his wrist, a similar blade springing into his hand, this one with a yellow aura.

Swinging his blade up, he blocked the good doctor’s strike with a grin on his face. “Oh, and the Sword of the Spirit, can’t forget about that.” Doctor Dee growled and pushed back against Bibleman’s blade, forcing him out into the hallway. “Deuteronomy 31:8 says ‘The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.’ No matter how many times you attack us, the Lord is our rock and our salvation, and He will always be there to heal us!”

The two of them slashed at each other, blades crashing into each other with enough force to rattle the lockers. “God don’t care about you, boy! He don’t care about none of ya’ll!” he shouted, his accent becoming thicker with his rising anger.

“That’s what your side always wants us to believe! But King David wrote in Psalm 34:17 that ‘The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.’ And in Psalm 40:1-3 ‘I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him.’”

Once more, blades crashed into each other as the two engaged into a duel that was almost hypnotic in a way. Red slammed into yellow, and the sound of their blades was a mix of harsh electricity and a soft humming. “He can’t save you!” Doctor Dee shouted over their clashing. “He doesn’t care! He doesn’t listen! He doesn’t heal!”

Bibleman dodged his next strike, the red blade striking one of the lockers and sending sparks flying. “So you claim! But John 16:33 says ‘I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.’ And Romans 8:38 tells us that nothing can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus! So, no matter what you do, no matter how depressed you make someone, God will always bring them back!”

For the last time, their blades clashed wildly, sparks beginning to fly off with each strike. Taking a step back, Bibleman dodged Doctor Dee’s blade, forcing the counselor to lunge forward in an attempt to hit the hero, but in doing so overextended himself beyond any hope of recovery. With one final slash, Bibleman struck Doctor Dee in the back, his body catching flame and exploding into harmless sparks. “I’d like to see Prozac do that.”

A note from Miles Peterson Jr.

Hi, everyone! Miles Jr. here! I wanted to say that I’m super thankful that you guys tuned in for the very first installment of The New Adventures of Bibleman; what will hopefully be the first in a weekly series for your enjoyment. I’m super excited to see where God takes this series, and I pray that it touches you in some way.

I wanted to take this opportunity to touch on something pretty close to my heart, and that is depression. As we’ve shown here today, the Bible has a lot to say on the subject, but there’s been an unfortunate disconnect in the church as of late. Far too many people are calling depression and other mental illnesses issues of faith. Many Christians who are suffering from depression are being told that their illness is a sign that they’re not praying hard enough, and that’s simply not true. Depression, like any other sickness, requires medicine. Don’t misunderstand my words; we serve a God who can heal any illness, but He also gave us physicians to help us in the healing process.

If you are one of millions suffering from depression, I encourage you to seek medical help instead of being bogged down by everyone saying that you’re just not praying hard enough. Today, we’ve shown Bibleman vanquishing Doctor Dee’s plans through the power of scripture, but understand that we did so to illustrate the power scripture and faith have over such things. God can heal you of depression, and you have to believe that He is there for you, but you also cannot completely discount modern medicine.

Here at Bibleman, we don’t want anyone to fall prey to this horrible illness, so please, if you do have depression, seek out medical attention, as well as help from your pastor and your family. Depression is not something to be taken lightly, and we want to make sure we address it as such.

Thank you so much, once again, for tuning in to our debut episode! I hope you come back next week to see what we go up against next! Until then, courage, and Godspeed.