The First Account - PART II: Revelation

"Without change, something sleeps inside us and seldom awakens. The sleeper must awaken."  - Duke Leto Atreides - Frank Herberts Dune 


So yesterday I left off with a rather formidable and perhaps anti-climactic cliffhanger, I recognize that people who enjoy blogs, do not always enjoy lengthy prose, and might prefer shorter, more digestible fare.  I write fast, and with few edits.  Easily 100 words per minute, 140 when I am on a roll. So writing the first draft of a short story takes little time really.

I will endeavor this time to keep the conversation shorter and to the point.  After this account, I will write another post with analysis of this first Account.  Breaking down what I think was going on, and how it might apply to your own magickal working. For now, enjoy the story, and wonder where the truth and the fiction are found.  I will give you a hint... The parts that sound the most like fiction, are the parts I remember the clearest of all as truth.


Arthur had promised me an explanation for why I was home and not at his house, an explaination for the missing time. I went back to his house the next day as requested, and he met me at the door.  I detected a worried look on his face, and a tremble in his voice, he hurried me inside.  It would be dark soon, and I was to be having dinner with their family, and this was obviously making him nervous.  We went unceremoniously and silently downstairs where we went into the computer room and locked the door.

"You are either the greatest improvisational actor in the history of the world, or you have got a SERIOUSLY bad problem on your hands." He said.

I was confused and told him all I remembered was seeing a dark hideous cloud of substance in the boiler room.  I felt a chill as I considered it, my memory elaborating and adding details I couldn't fully trust as I thought back.  I saw cloudy tentacles, several gaping maws, and an odd number of bestial legs protruding from beneath. It wasn't large in spatial dimension, but It felt enormous, bigger than an aircraft carrier.  I now recalled or imagined, one of the tendrils reaching out and groping into my chest, pushing me backward, yet pulling me forward... I was sure I had fainted and was hallucinating.

I told Arthur all of this and he began taking notes and shaking his head.

"And you remember nothing after?"

"I remember the screaming roar, and then nothing till I called you yesterday. I am pretty sure I fainted, I think everything I was imagining scared me somehow and made me faint, I hate to admit it."

Arthur opened to another page in his notes, he had to organize his thoughts.

He began to tell me what happened next, about how I fall backward, yet somehow all without landing on the ground, how they felt like I was trying to pull myself through the doorway, and Arthur and Freddy struggled to keep hold of me and pull me back into the circle.  All while I was speaking in tongues and frothing at the mouth.   They desperately wanted to seat or lay me down.

Despite my body being bent off balance to the ground, they couldn't get me to the floor.  I was somehow resisting them.  At last, I went down and Arthur slammed the boiler room door.  Not daring to leave the circle, using instead Freddy's Wood gun replica.

All was silent, the candles flickered, and upstairs Arthur's Brother hit the circuit breaker and brought the lights back on. Easing the mood in a room considerably.

What came next Arthur described as some kind of demonic possession, I was disoriented, and clawing and growling.  They began to try to communicate with me, to speak to whatever spirit it was.  They said the spirit refused to identify itself.  But it claimed to come from a void between.  A place with extra directions but out of time.

It spoke of the body it was in, MY body. That it was a chosen vessel, a being that was once weak and fragile.  A being that begged for death as the fever was destroying its brain, drawn to such misery the entity found me... and sang a syrupy sweet song to soothe me... It would devour me... to take me into the eternity and emptiness with it... But this vessel was appropriate.  It had the right angles, the right prismatic structure. That if I would agree to host the being, it would heal me and empower me and it would rest in me, taking only the energy I didn't need, feeding only on the energy around me in small measured amounts.

I felt a now ever too familiar chill when Arthur spoke of this.

When I was an infant I had Scarlet Fever, and during that time it was possible in the rural areas where I was living at the time to die from such a thing. My mother would tell me endless stories about how that house was haunted by demoniac spirits, and how I was so dreadfully sick that she would sleep with me on her chest so that if I got too hot she would feel it and put me in the snow outside to stop the fever from killing me.  She always told me how one such night she awoke to the sound of a terrible roar, like a powerful man yelling in her ear, a sound so loud and real that my father, who was taking a bath at the time, leaped up and came to investigate thinking something bad happened.

My fever was off the charts, around 107-10, they ran outside and put me in the knee-deep snow... as my dad started the car to take me to the hospital.  My fever came down and they began the hour-long drive to the hospital...

She told me this story all the time because that was the night the fever broke and never returned, the doctors were amazed and remarked that if my temperature really was that high, I could possibly suffer some brain damage or neurologic damage, to watch for seizures etc.  They would keep me in observation one night, and if I checked out I could go home in the morning. That was one of the last creepy nights, the spirits seemed to be at peace after that.  The old farmhouse still felt foreboding, but it was tolerable, and the dogs stopped pacing so much.

I interrupted Arthur to tell him this story, and he recalled hearing me mention bits of it in the past on sleepless sleepovers while sharing ghost stories.

He went on to tell me the rest, the story of the alignment, the veil, the void, and the shadows.

A warning, a possible future, and a thing we must prepare for.

He walked over to his tape deck and hit play, he apparently recorded this part of the event, and what I heard next was bone-chilling, it was my voice, but raspy, weak, distant, and with a hermaphroditic female inflection, Not quite like 2 distinct voices like in the movies, certainly something I could probably do on purpose with some effort, but still nothing like I had done before.

Had I not gone through a skeptical phase and had a falling out with Arthur not long after this, I would still have that tape... But it is lost, and so I will go from memory and intuition.  It came out in disjointed poetic verses and with intermittent interruptions of breathing or roaring.

"The time shall come when the veil between is thin and the stars will be in the proper place and shed no light. The gates of eternity will be cast open and the horde of devourers will come, hidden and unseen.  Dark and terrible. Shadows of empty substance, with the touch of entropy and the hunger of the void.  they come to consume, like locusts, from reality to reality, feeding, and leaving emptiness... You are among the few who know, and you will be powerless to stop them... your world will end, but need not die.  This one knows the way, for I am with him.  Call upon me, choose a name and I will obey, ask and I will reveal greater truths."

From here followed more disjointed and half sensible claims and boasts of power and grandeur.  Of dark things and terrible beings.

But what scared us most, was that it spoke to each person in the room, revealing deep secrets about each of them that I didn't know, it analyzed their weaknesses and their inferiority, and mocked them for their fear and cowardice.  It had a rather Neitche'esque, Machiavellian, Ragnar Redbeard mentality, it mocked me for my bravado and false pride.  It would teach me humility by granting me power... (I have no idea how that would work) And for Arthur and Freddy, it would teach what true fear was to make them stronger.

Arthur stopped the tape, saying the conversation began to break down as I seemed to be losing whatever connection was established and just spoke jibberish... I awoke not long later, my eyes open, but vacant.  I responded like in a dream and fearing I was ill, and not wanting to deal with it, they called my parent and had me taken home saying I was sick.  I apparently complied and played along like I was aware of it, and the last they saw was my empty face peering out of the window of the back seat of the family car... staring at nothing.


This ends the FIRST account.  My next post will be an analysis of this account, and an attempt to rationalize the account.  Keep in mind that some of this is from distant and suppressed memory.  I had to embellish a bit, and I am fully aware that this account reads more like some kind of horror story than a real accounting of the occult. 
I do this for my own reasons, it is a necessary thing.  Those who know, those with eyes to see will see... What I am saying here is madness, and it is a madness that is indisputably true for those who know it. For those doing paranormal or occult research, I hope this next post is most interesting for you.


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