The First Account - Contact.

The fall of 199X - Sophomore year - The year I made contact. 

It was the totally extreme 90s.  I was the husky Gen X kid with the shaggy black metalhead haircut, I had a sweet cherub face with stone dead looking eyes.  I was strong, the second or third biggest strongest boy in the school.  Undefeated in schoolyard brawling or street violence, I was well on my way to mastering an early form of MMA and was infatuated with Samurai, Ninjas, and everything related.  It was the height of the ninja boom, and I was one of those kids who wanted more than anything to be a Ninja.

My mind was already warped, my touch with reality was already tenuous.

 I already had this strange ideation of joining the military, or starting my own martial school, to someday be involved in some grand adventure of martial arts and intrigue.  Of course, a small part of being a Ninja revolved around Japanese Occult and folklore, and so I began to study these subjects in earnest.  Though only about as well as a teenage boy can do before the days of the internet.

But I would find books, books on Zen, books on the Art of War, Books on Kuji Kiri Meditation.  I would read books by Frauds like Ashida Kim (we lacked an internet to tell us to stay away), and I consumed far too much anime, and fantasy and science fiction.

I had a lot of friends, I was an Alpha nerd, a Nerd Jock, I was one of those people who had no trouble making friends.  I had spent enough of my childhood in a Black Neighborhood, so I was well accepted by people of all races and colors and creeds.  Not the popular kids though, I was too weird.  The Grungy Metalhead Goth Ninjer.  I missed the boat to cheerleader boink island by refusing to play football, despite being a hulk and being nearly unstoppable in a physical squabble.

But I did ok for a chubby dork.  I stood up to Skinheads, I took part in brawls between gangs and rivals.  I was jumped by 3 guys and sent them all packing.  I was resourceful, I knew how to scam and sneak through the system of school.  I started a fire to break a friend out of in school detention and broke into the school basement to hide drugs.  I made pipe bombs with my friends, and we hatched elaborate plans to get revenge on others who wronged us.

So I was a bit infamous.  And the school administration had no clue.  To them, I was an unmotivated genius, a directionless young man who was too intelligent for his own good.  Too "lazy" and too undisciplined.  I never did homework or did only enough homework and participation to pass the class with a 65.  I would somehow pass literally every test handed to me.  Scoring 80s or better in most subjects, in science, art, and social studies I was a borderline Savant, the teachers couldn't explain how I was able to sleep through class, do no homework, but come in and get 95+ on my exams and finals.

An IQ around 140 can do that to you.  Being smart isn't all it's cracked up to be.  It can make you crazy, it can make you lazy, everything is too easy sometimes so that when things get hard, you can't deal.

I refuse to talk about my home life or family but suffice to say, some still live and I would prefer to honor them by not ever using them as an excuse for anything, be it bad or good.  They did their best, as did I.  I love them still.  And they love me.

It was during this time of rebellion, of experimentation, this time of trying out drugs and trying to get laid and be popular... That I first dared to dabble with the darkest arts.

Satanism, witchcraft, demonology, and the DREAD (Simon) NECRONOMICON.  The book that drove chills up and down the spine, the book that when held could cause your peers to call you mad, or brave or both.  The book of urban legend, the book that people dared not read, dared not keep, and the book that always went missing, or caused bad dreams.

We had no idea the book wasn't authentic in any real sense, nor would we ever know that the vast majority of occult books are of questionable authenticity in their own right.  We had no idea the true purpose of this book, the spiritual journey it creates.  The walking of the gates being a kind of initiation into a deeper truer world.  We just thought it was cool and "Metal." So we used it as we willed. We began to believe in a kind of Chaos Magick of our own divination.

We had no idea such a thing as Chaos magick existed, again, remember this is before the internet.  But I would read this book and others on spiritual things, and dabble in all of it in my room late at night, I would have nightmares as all people do, and it inspired my art, and my thinking.  I would respond to hardship by wishing for dark powers, to be a Werewolf or a warlock, even if I had to make a pact with the devil to do it.

I would scare myself just enough to run back into the arms of the loving Christian faith I was raised in, reading the happier parts of the bible and repenting for my wickedness.  Absolving myself of sin and regret.

I had a friend back then, a boy who was like my polar twin.  We'll call him Arthur (as he is now quite the cringy white knight) Where I was chubby and strong, he was disgustingly fat and weak.  Where I was unmotivated but brilliant, he was devoted and intelligent and educated.  He loved theatre, and I loved violence.  He was a champion of virtue, and I was... Well, I liked animals, but people were food or victims or pets.  And nobody fucked with my pets but me, and for this reason, this weak dorky boy was happy to be my friend, and I was happy to swim in his pool, play his games, and enjoy his similar intellectual capability.

We had a mutual friend, who we will call Freddy.  Freddy was a skeptic in all things but had a deep desire to experience something supernatural. Arthur was in the theatre as I mentioned before, well read, and into fantasy as all nerds were, used to role playing dungeons and dragons. Because of this, he and I concocted a brilliant plan to take his copy of the Necronomicon and enact a ritual from it.  We would make a circle on the ground in his basement, and do everything we could.

Of course, as teenagers with little money or resources, we had to cut corners, we had to play games with the rules. We had to improvise.  So we did.  We made our ritual circle out of masking tape, our incense burner was an ashtray, our ritual dagger was a wood prop dagger from my friend's theater plays.

Arthur and I rehearsed and planned, we would get about halfway through some random passage in the book that sounded legit, and then he'd make a loud noise that was a signal to his little brother who would pull the fuse box, and turn out all the lights, then in the dark, my friend would secretly turn on the sound system to play the scary Halloween tape we had picked out for this.  Seeing as we were doing all this in the basement, this would mean in the pitch dark, all the glow in the dark props we had would really liven things up.  Then Arthur would ham it up real good. Act like he was banishing a demon, and I would say I saw ghosts or demons everywhere in the room.  Even if it didn't scare Freddy, it would be fun to try. A good clean Halloween prank.

We counted down the days, and soon enough it was all Hallows Eve, we would be sleeping over Arthurs house and enacting our cruel prank on Freddy, and even if just for a few seconds, making him feel real wonder at the possibility of the occult or the supernatural.

We had no idea that the Treat we had planned, was going to be a trick, not on Freddy, but on all of us.  None more so than me.

We finished trick or treating, and went back to the basement for "games." Arthurs parents would be out for the evening at a party, and so we, the older boys were in charge.

Everything went perfectly, the air was thick and ripe for fear, the spirit of Halloween, the dreary October night with the light rain falling, everything couldn't be more perfect.

We retired to the computer room in the basement between the boiler room and the "kid's" playroom/den.  We cast the ritual circle in tape, ignoring all the rules and warnings, we didn't really believe in any of this.

We stood in the middle in our makeshift ritual clothes, I in a Ninja outfit, Arthur in a more convincing monks habit he got from playing Friar tuck, and Freddy in his Army of Darkness - Ash outfit.

We lit the candles, we did all the recitations and came to the part where things were supposed to get good.  But something legitimately started to creep us out.  It wasn't just me. We heard footsteps in and out of the room.  We heard a voice and felt cold air blowing into the room. The hair on our necks would stand up. At first, we thought it was Arthurs little brother getting bored waiting for the signal.

We heard a frightful tumble on the stairs, like a small body falling down and coming to a loud CRACK at the bottom followed by a soft mewling sound. Arthurs brother had almost certainly fallen and struck his head.

I had enough and decided to go make sure the kid was ok, I didn't believe in any of this, and besides I knew I what I was doing, I was a saved Christian after all.

Arthur stopped me and said -

"Wait, the Circle, what if... what if something really is happening, I better banish whatever is out there and end this.  I'm sure it's not my brother, he isn't that stupid. "

This was enough for me, I was now convinced this was part of the prank, Arthur decided to double-cross me, and his little brother was going to be waiting outside the door in a monster mask or something to scare me.

Freddy was pale as a ghost, eyes wide, sitting on the floor with his hand on his solid wood shotgun prop.  It would leave a dent in your skull if he swung it hard enough, so he clung to it for security. He was having his supernatural experience.

I mocked them both as cowards, and stepped outside the circle, opened the door to the basement den, and looked around, it was as it always was, a comforting place for kids to play games in.  I went around the corner, every second expecting a fat kid to jump out in a ghostly bed sheet or something stupid.  I turned the corner and I saw nothing, the stairs were dark, empty... The mewling sound was gone...

I wasn't so brave now.  I laughed nervously, but I felt icy fingers on my neck.  I was sure it was Arthur or Freddy sneaking up on me, so I spun around laughing... nothing was there.

I scurried back to the Computer room, where my friends were both petrified, both insisted something had poked its head into the room while I was gone, something they couldn't see with their eyes, but they knew it was there, they felt like they were being watched.  They were too scared to leave the circle to close the door and didn't want to strand me outside.

I leaped back into the circle slamming the door shut behind me.  Telling Arthur to close the ritual and banish whatever was fucking with us. Shit got too real, and I was already picking up my bible.

That was, of course, a loud enough bang to set off Arthurs little brother... Not right away, he was a little kid after all and was busy watching TV upstairs, so Arthur was right in the middle of trying to sound like the Exorcist, commanding the demons to leave by the power of Christ etc... And the lights went out at just the right time.

Our screams of terror were as real and hysterical as could be. We settled down in the darkness, as the glow of the candles and our glow in the dark props created a terrible golden green glow all around us. Minutes passed, minutes that felt like hours, trying to rationalize the things we felt.

To my horror, I noticed the other door in the Computer room wasn't closed all the way, the door to the boiler room was ajar.  I swore, that the door was closed earlier.

It was then that the hair on my neck stood up.  I heard a voice... I heard a female voice.  It was faint, distant, pleading, indecipherable, and I was unsure if this was just more of an elaborate hoax that had somehow been turned around and aimed directly at me. The flicker of the candles intensified, and I looked at Arthur he was busy chanting and commanding the demons out, and Freddy was rocking back and forth saying this had to be bullshit, not because he believed it, but because he wished it.

I'm sure you, my dear reader, would be inclined to agree with him... Had you been there with us, you would not have such an easy luxury...

I felt my pride, my arrogance, my bravado return, growing despite seeing the fear in my companions.  I asked if anyone heard the voice?  I could tell from the expressions they had not.  I couldn't resist, it was like a siren song. Sensual, pleading, demanding, yearning, desperate... I was reminded of dreams of fair maidens, and fairy princesses needing rescue.

I pushed my way past Arthur and grasped the door with the maximal bravado I could muster.  Arthur cursed repeatedly, begging me to come back in the circle, Freddy was borderline Catatonic, just staring into space, he was finished, he had seen enough, I never learned whether he snapped, or just decided he didn't believe what was happening. We barely spoke ever after this Halloween.

I told Arthur I wouldn't give in to fear, that whatever or whoever was doing this was trying to scare us, and I am stronger than that. I felt Arthurs hand on my shoulder, he was halfway out of the circle, Freddy reluctantly holding on to him, tears running down Arthurs' face.

I shrugged him off, and pushed through the door into the icy darkness beyond... there I saw a nebulous black shape, at first it was nothing more than a thick voluminous undulating cloud of inky darkness, somehow visible in the gloom as if it was so dark it made the natural darkness look light.  As if my eyes were giving it an outline, and aura.  I heard a Terrible shriek in my ear, like the grinding of tires on pavement and an enraged pachyderm.  It was deafening, and it was numbing.  I have been told by people that fainting can sound like that, like a roaring or shrieking... I don't know, all I know is that this blackness looked at me, looked through me, and I saw horror, hell, and madness.

I remember nothing after this moment until the next day... I was meant to sleep over, but I was so ill I went home and promptly passed out.  Arthur Called me the next day, and his voice was strained and hoarse, he was timid and unsure.  His tones were accusatory, but also sympathetic. He asked me if I knew what happened last night.

I began to panic, I wasn't supposed to be home. Arthur wasn't supposed to sound annoyed or scared of me.  After some coaxing, he told me to come over tomorrow, he had an audio cassette for me to listen to, and a story to tell me.

But that is a tale for another time.  I don't want to write a novel here, not all at once.  And 2800 words is more than enough for a good blog post.

Simply understand that this isn't what happens, not often.  It is rare for people dabbling in these things to get such a result, usually if anything they just waste everyone's time and give up, accomplishing nothing.  Something was watching, waiting, working with us, and couldn't wait to get out and be noticed. I wasn't "special" we didn't get lucky, this was meant to happen, this was planned, and inevitable.

It wasn't until my mature adult years I began to understand the truth of what must have really happened, that there was a demonic being in that room.  But it wasn't from outside, it was from within us.  Me specifically.  An identity, a schizophrenic manifestation of subdued trauma and a powerful will crafting an Egregore of terrible power and madness.  Fight club meets Lovecraft, with all that that implies.

It took us all for a ride, a ride lasting years, involving dozens of others, the formation of a short-lived cult, and robbed me of many important developmental stages of my life.  It was a way to fight back, a way to be powerful despite having no power.

It is amazing what can happen when nobody is minding the store so to speak.

That is all for now - I promise not all my blog posts will be this long, but I believe a basis of self has to be established to build rapport with you dear reader.  I hope you will join me next time... 


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