July 18, 2016For privacy, I’ll be calling myself Ken and my Wife Amy. We’ve been married 6 years today, and couldn’t be happier with our marriage. We met at a job interview, working as secretaries for respective Managers of an online security firm. We ended up getting the jobs, went on some pretty fun dates, eventually decided to settle down and buy a really nice white, blue, and beige ocean themed house. We had both wanted to be marine biologists, and as soon as we saw the beach painted walls, we knew it was what we wanted. We moved in 2 months later and never looked back. I knew she was the love of my life when she told me she loved owning cats and dogs. I’m a huge animal person, and she knows that. We got a blue eyed, grey furred and stocky Pitbull that we rightly named Achilles. We called him Achilles because he was a big baby. He looked mean and tough as nails, but really, he was softer than silk and sweet as blueberry jam. After we brought him home from the shelter, we got a Maine coon. Seriously, look them up. Imagine if an average house cat got into a giant vat of growth hormone. They’re sweet and gentle, love, love, love to cuddle, and will snuggle up with you whenever possible. Anyways, back to the story. I have strange dreams. I feel all of your eyes rolling, but it’s not what it sounds like. What I mean is that I talk to various spirits in my dreams. For instance, the other day I talked to a winged figure with a blue crown on who claimed to be Nike, the Greek goddess of vengeance. We talked for what felt like days, about the whims and whys of how people come to power, and how it affects them differently. We spoke of how Vikings would often encourage warfare to get to Valhalla faster, and how people these days are eager to reach the afterlife. The spirit told me there is one, and that was the end of my dream. July 19, 2016 Last night, I had a strange dream. I dreamt that I was cloaked in a white robe that was tightly wrapped around my body. It had encased me completely, rendering me completely immobile. I couldn’t move any part of my body, except for my head and my mouth. A figure stood in front of me, a form that could only be drawn by the most delusional person alive. It had a human face, genderless, raceless. It’s nearly impossible to explain. Imagine if someone had a face that wasn’t readily identifiable ever. As if it’s very image would be impossible for your mind to remember, save it drive you mad. The rest of the form was different. A white robe that descended to the knees, and under the robe, a goat’s hoof and a lion’s paw. The figure extended its wings, a feathery, fluffy wing like you’d see on a cartoon angel. The other wing, however, was scaly, rotten, covered in holes that leaked a brownish pus, maggots, and the occasional bone fragment. The creature looked at me, and its eyes got me the most. These eyes were thousands of years old, eyes that saw through petty creatures like humans and other animals. These eyes were black, but on the inside, a single, constant light shone in the pupil. When it spoke, its voice was like that of a child, an adult male, and adult females voice. It had this bass-y baritone of a voice, that rang through my head and made me want to rip my ears off, go feral, tear everything apart and spread chaos. I saw cities burning, people chasing down others and eating them, legions of people jumping off of roofs while chanting an unknown language. The way it spoke was if a single hypnotic note played in your head, ringing out every single thought, and rendering you helpless as it purges your mind of humanity. “Would you like to make a deal, chum?” When I could clearly make out what it was saying, it seemed to shrink. It took on a human shape, looking like a well-aged dark-skinned man of about 40. A beard with a wavy patter wreathed his face, dreadlocks hung from his dead, spattered with beads that had upside-down crosses, and little devils on them. “Would you like to make a deal then? We have about 45 minutes before you wake up, so let’s hear what I’ve got.” He spoke with a thick southern drawl as pulled a purse out of the air, reached in and grabbed a tablet with the letters I=P on them. He placed it in my bound hand, and spirited us away to a house in the middle of seemingly nowhere. A dilapidated, filthy place where the walls were unabashedly covered in termites, and the carpets were shag with a good half-inch of cobwebs and dust. The windows were bashed in, allowing a rank funk to wander in from some broad stretch off the horizon. “I’m the devil, as you can see. Take that tablet for me, and when you wake up, strangle your wife. Do that for me, and you’ll have an incredible power. You’ll be able to see souls, and if you play your cards right, you’ll be at the top of the world. Don’t worry about anyone finding the body either. You can just walk out and no one will notice. I know I’m supposed to trick people and lie, but between you and I, we can’t just be tricky all the time, that’s bad for business.” I was shocked. This entity, a haunting spirit that became a large dread-headed black man with the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen, was telling me to kill my wife? There’s no way in hell I can let that thing talk me into killing my wife. Pun intended. I looked it right in the eyes and laid out my answer, plain and simple. “No. Fucking. Way. We just got married for Christ’s sake! You’re telling me to kill her for a power that isn’t even physically possible? Fuck no! Get the hell out of my dream, you sick fucking bas—” I was cut off by a wave of the most pain-inducing nausea I’ve ever experienced. I was ready to puke my guts up, but I couldn’t. If I threw up, it would get all over my wife, then I’d have to explain to her exactly what made me throw up in the first place. The nausea cleared, and I took a deep breath. “Why must you disrespect me, man? I’m trying to do you a favor. In three years, she’s going to develop a rare cancer that will keep her bedridden, you by her side constantly, and because of the medical bills, you’ll go bankrupt and be arrested for poisoning her. Kill her before that happens, use the power to get to the top, no one will notice you, as long as you don’t go back to your hometown, ok? And just for disrespecting me…” My dream shifted to a horrible scene. A table, my wife splayed out spread eagle as doctors with the faces of mannequins cut into her with no anesthetic. Her screams were pure agony, I wanted to get to her as fast as possible to save her. I couldn’t move! My arms and legs were tied down by the ligaments they had cut from her back. After seeing that happen to her, I almost wanted to do it; almost. If nothing else, to save her from the hell she would experience when the tumor truly began growing. July 20, 2016 I woke up at about midnight, and decided to type this up. My wife has been laying next to me, motionless, but completely alive. I got up to grab a glass of water, but on the way, I noticed the floorboards seemingly opening up to reveal piles of writhing insects. Worms, beetles, scorpions, spiders, moths, all crawling out, and up my legs. I began to walk faster to the kitchen, hoping that some light would make the hallucination go away. Instead, when I turned on the lights, I saw that there were carcasses of birds and insects, all over the kitchen table. Everywhere else was pristine, clean as a whistle! The food hadn’t been touched, nor had the perishables in the cabinet. Everything else was just fine! I heard a creak behind me, and lo and behold, Saint Nick stood behind me, the shit-eating-grin of a businessman plastered across his unholy face. The demon gave me a very prestigious bow, the fucking prick, and had the nerve to look upset. “What’s wrong, Ken? You look quite disturbed, like you’re staring at a corpse or something.” “Are you seriously this petty?” I spat at him. “You’re the lord of darkness, godammit! Just go kill someone else’s wife, seriously!” “Well this just won’t do,” he said as he picked up one of the birds, wolfing it down, before burping out a feather like a cartoon character. “You see, your wife is very special, Ken. She’s the descendant of a very important priest. Have you ever heard the tale of Levi V?” I shook my head. “I-I can’t say I have, no?” From his throat came a rumble, like the sound a vengeful spirit would make, except this one was literally earth-shattering. I heard and felt the foundation of our house move a little bit. “Levi V was a very controversial priest, working in the German Sect. The Church shut down any mention of him, because they were afraid of how much knowledge he had in store. “For example, he found a way to abort the children of those who had been, well, compromised. He believed that instead of worshipping just God, that God and Satan should both be worshipped, as it would balance out our power. He believed the English New Testament was a lie, which by the way, I helped write. Lastly, but most assuredly not least, he preached that when humans died, they stayed on earth, which is a big no-no for the church. Believing in other spirits meant that the power of the Holy Spirit could be chalked up to household ghosts, which by the way, being insecure of a religion you didn’t create, is insanely unflattering for the church’s reputation. He was excommunicated from the Church, moved into a dead couple’s cottage in Germany, got married, settled down, and had nine kids. “Now up until this point, it was fine and dandy to have as many kids as you wanted. However, he was forbidden from having more than one. He sent many of his kids to places like Lithuania, Ireland, Scotland, and of course, England. His kids grew up, got married, had kids, etc. Now here’s where it gets tricky. The Church was having none of this business, and hired a local witch from the mad depths of the Black Forest to curse Levi’s family. She cursed his twenty-fifth descendant, your wife, to die a painful death whilst cursing God’s name. See the problem here? Your wife is a Christian, K. She loves God more than you, even. She’s going to die cursing him, cursing you, hell, cursing Nurse Jean, who changes her blood-stained bedpan every twelve hours. Are you really going to throw away everything she believes in, to keep her alive another 3 years before she dies shitting and vomiting blood on her deathbed?” I couldn’t believe it. The Devil, who I was told is the embodiment of Evil, wanted me to save my wife from ending up in hell? “W-what are you getting out of this?” I stuttered, now warier than ever of how exposed I was before Lucifer. “What’s so bad about her soul you don’t want it getting into hell?” He grinned wickedly, but it only lasted for about a split second, before it was replaced with a compassionate expression. “I am protecting you from something greater than both of you, than heaven and hell, really. Magic is very real, and more powerful than any god or devil you can create. This curse will rupture apart everything we believe in, leading to a full-scale invasion of creatures even I couldn’t create in my wildest nightmares. Please, for all of us, kill your wife before your three years is up.” I told him I had to think on it, before grabbing two glasses of water. I made my way upstairs to the bedroom, and lay down beside my wife. I stared at her like it was the last time I’d see her, taking in her black hair with blue streaks, fair skin that seemed to never blemish, her features short, yet sharp, yet gentle. I loved her, I couldn’t do something like that to her. I fell asleep. July 21, 2016 She threw up today. Badly. Said her throat felt like it was closing up, and had several mental breakdowns. She cried and cried, telling me something was horribly wrong. It couldn’t be starting already, right? There’s no way in hell that she just started growing cancer cells overnight, right? I’m no doctor, so I can’t say I’d know, but this had me more worried than I’d ever been. I called the devil over and over, begging him to tell me how to ease her pain. The only responses I got were ruminations of her dead, in all sorts of different ways, some more gory, some more… perverted. Her torso ripped open, splayed out with her heart and lungs removed. Her uterus ripped out of her pelvic region, placed in a jar beside her head. I’ve been thinking about truly going through with it, ending her suffering. I just don’t know how I’d go through with it. I think maybe I’ll strangle her like the Devil said. July 22, 2016 I have to do it now. The doctor took her x-rays and noticed a growth the size of a baseball next to her spinal cord. They said she has about two months to live, if I can’t kill her before then, it might be over for all of us. I’ve been planning out some methods for it, and decided the best way to do it. I’ll quit my job, take her home, dose her up one her chemo so she won’t feel anything, and readily end her suffering there. Here’s to hoping this works.
July 23, 2016 I quit today. I told the boss what was going wrong, and he said he’ll let me come back after I know for sure I can work full-time without worrying about her. It won’t be long. She’ll be dead by this time on Friday. July 24, 2016 Sorry these updates have been so short, randomly having to run to the bathroom and/or hospital is no fun for anyone. She’s been having the worst bout of manic depression I’ve ever seen in anyone. For those who don’t know what it looks like in someone who knows they’re dying, imagine someone begging you to kill them, switching moods and claiming they’re fine, then switching back to wanting to die.She’ll end up losing her mind before the disease kills her. I have no choice but to end her suffering now. I filled a cup of coffee with as many pain meds as I could mix in without it tasting horrid, sat with her to watch her favorite cartoon of all time, “Merry Christmas Charlie Brown,” and waited for her to slump over. I pressed the pillow over her face, pushing down with full force. At first, I had enough pressure to stop her breathing. Then things went wrong. As I was pressing the pillow over her face, Achilles ran into my arm trying to save my wife. The force of his push caused me to lose my balance, falling over and shifting the pillow. I heard a sickening crack as her neck broke, then hung limply from under the pillow. Fuck. How can I come back from this? I heard a sarcastic clap of applause. Clap. Clap. Clap. “Well done, my good and faithful serpent. I see you took the route of breaking her neck, but no worries, I’ve got someone to take the fall already. However, I do believe you left the window blinds open, and your neighbor is calling the police. You might want to look into that.” Before he left, he turned his head, looking me up and down. “You might want to say I told you to kill her. You’re not going to last a second in prison.” I ran to my bedside table, found the tablet with the I=P on it, and swallowed it dry. I felt my heart beating quickly. Why was this kicking in so quickly? What the hell did the Devil give me? I ran downstairs, but being disoriented, I tripped and fell down the stairs, knocking myself out on the bottom step. Days passed by in a haze, like I was never truly in my own body, until I got a call from my lawyer. After I had explained the situation, he gave me a knowing, but solemn tone. “The devil trades in trades and business. What he wants, he gets, and what he offers always has a catch. He told you to walk right out the door, right? But he visited you so you wouldn’t be able to leave, thus landing you here. Look, just tell the judge what you told me, and we’ll work something out.
August 12, 2016 The trial went by fast. I plead that I had made a deal with the Devil, and they told me I would be sent to a “mental reform institution” that had recently been opened up by the Church. I was to stay there for the rest of my life. Saint Peter’s Home for the Possessed and Mentally Ill.The workers call it “sphere” because “it’s a fucking circle of hell on its own, man.” The priests call it “a place of reform where those tempted by the Devil may find God.” Thus, I’ve been in church services and “Arts and Crafts for Jesus.” August 14, 2016 There’s a guy there, Braxly. He’s a huge biker with the mind of an eight-year-old. The other day, the orderlies caught his drinking glue, and sent him to the infirmary. He began to throw a tantrum, and hit one of the priests square in the jaw. Instantly, a round of guttural whoops and screeches filled the room. Several voices were made out in the midst of the screeches, all describing the disturbing ways they would eat, murder, and worse to his family. The priest stood up, and began reciting a Bible passage. His voice was strong, and even though he was speaking to these voices that howled like rabid hyenas, he spoke with kindness and love. “And they begged to move into the swine. Jesus said let it be so, so they possessed the swine and ran them over a cliff.” The voices began wailing in a high-pitched falsetto, screaming things like “Have Mercy on us Lord” before cackling, and cat-calling the priest and his wife, who was leading the arts and crafts. “These screams will be the last you here, wife killer.” One of the voices pierced into my brain like a flaming arrow, before the screams of my wife, the one I had killed days ago, filled my head. I ran out of the room, orderlies chasing after me. I ducked into a restroom, and vomited in the toilet. One of the orderlies came in, an average-height yet extremely shredded light skin man, saw me vomiting, and was kind enough to get me some water from a nearby fountain. The orderly, whose named I later found out was Jerome Willis, took me to one of the priests’ rooms. Gerard Myers, a tall gangly, clean-shaven brunette with hair down to his jawline, sat down with me, and told me to explain what I heard. “The voices get to different people in different ways. Some hear loved ones, some hear people that have hurt them greatly. It takes a stone-cold person to kill someone they loved enough to marry like that, so what exactly did you hear?” The way Jerome looked at me shook me to my core. I saw his past, a horrid past. Once, he was a police officer. He had gotten into an altercation with a suicidal woman, a redhead with a bony facial structure. He begged her not to kill her child, a seven-year-old boy tied down and gagged in a car set on the ground. He thrashed about in a wild panic as Jerome talked her down, trying to coax her into putting down the gun. She took the gag off of the boy, to which he screamed “it’s good dad left, you’re crazy!” She raised the gun, shot him in the forehead, before biting the gun and shooting herself. I looked down, not sure how to explain it. “I’ll start from the beginning. The Devil came to me in a dream; I usually talk to spirits in my dreams. He told me my wife would develop cancer and would die in three years, cursing God’s name as she died. He took pity on us, and gave me a chance to send her to God first, where she would be safe.” The guard cut in. “Safe from what, exactly?” I continued explain it. “A day or two later, she was diagnosed with the exact cancer the Devil described, and beginning chemotherapy. The only problem was, she was beginning to die extremely quickly. She was vomiting blood, and acted like I didn’t notice. I had planned to tell the doctor at the next visit, because I knew she would suggest that everything was fine. I had to put her out of her misery. I mixed all her pain meds in some coffee, put on her favorite cartoon, gave her lots of love and tried to make her as comfortable as possible.” My voice was beginning to break, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “I just wanted to make sure she didn’t suffer. She means the universe to me, and I couldn’t take watching her suffer anymore. He offered me a tablet, with the inscription “I=P” on it. I took it before my arrest, and passed out shortly after.” After hearing this, Gerard, crossed his fingers and leaned forward, but Jerome wanted a different piece of information.” “Ken, what are you keeping us safe from?” I looked at him, in those eyes that had seen many deaths, and gave him a compassionate smile. “Magic is real, and since she’s the twenty-fifth descendant of Levi V, we have to make sure she dies protected by God, apparently. Otherwise, some magic warlord or something comes to earth and tears heaven and hell to shreds.” Gerard went pale. “H-he’s telling the truth,” he stuttered out, rising from his chair and opening the door. “Wait here, I have to make some phone calls.” As he took off down the hall, Jerome brought me outside, pulled out two packs of cigarettes, and handed me one. “As long as you’re not prone to self-harm, you can wander the premises freely. And feel free to visit me. I like you, you’re definitely a stand-up guy.” August 15th, 2016 I walked by the entrance to the Possession Ward today. I didn’t go near a single one of their cells, but I felt the chill anyways. I felt several fingernails, cracked and revoltingly rotten, drag their way down my spine. I visited one of the Priests to have their advice, and they told me to wait in the cafeteria. Confused, I made my way there, and got a soft drink from one of the vending machines. They recognize the sound of prayer instead of pocket change, so I recited Psalms 119: 11, and got an ice-cold sprite. I took a seat at the table farthest from the PW, and sipped the lemon-lime flavored soda. A cold draft emanated from the closed double doors, beckoning me to take a step inside. Of course, I wasn’t going near there without a fully ordained priest at my side to protect me. Speak of the devil, Gerard and two other priests arrived. Iggy, a short, stocky, balding man with a goatee and a Minnesota accent, and Joseph, an older man with grey, short curls, and a pencil-like stature. I stood and shook their hands, greeting them formally. As we finished our formalities, a dry, hacking cackle arose from the PW. “Yeah, so we want to take you in there and show you around,” Joseph began in his analytical voice. “We want to see if you respond to their paranormal actions after you become used to them.” I let out a sarcastic chuckle, along with a “no fucking way,” but he stared at me as if to say, “you’re on our turf, buddy.” “Just so you know, there’s three of us, and one of you. We have to do this for research purposes, so you’ll forgive us for any… problems.” Iggy piped up from behind me. When had he gotten there? “This won’t hurt you, but you might end up in a coma or catatonic state, so we’re injecting you with epinephrine to make sure your mind is good and awake.” I look at Gerard desperately. He sighed, and said, almost tearfully, “I truly am sorry, Ken. The Church in Rome is demanding we do this, otherwise we’ll never learn how powerful the Devil truly is.” They brought me into the PW, where I felt non-existent hands tugging at my clothes. Hot slobber dribbled down the back of my neck, drying onto my collar and smelling otherworldly and absolutely rank. We arrived at a door with a large painting of a cat on it, in what could very well have been feces. “This is Felix,” Joseph said, “You’ll see why in a second.” The electric bolt slid out of the way, and the door opened. I walked inside and saw what could have been a man, however, he looked like a poorly drawn man. His eyes were sewn shut, and he purred like a cat. As he shifted left in right in a hypnotized manner, I saw the wall behind him. Dried blood, pus, and saliva caked the walls, dragged in streaks to say “Felix.” I moved in to say hello, and he grinned. His teeth with sharpened points, sharpened on the wall behind him. He had waist-length dark brown dreadlocks that were suspended from his head like vines. His pale skin was almost blue, and smile was three times wider than a normal smile should be. His brown-stained cloth jacket hung from his malnourished body as if he were dressed in a coat three sizes too large for him. His grin was wide, not unlike the Cheshire Cat, but more human. The expression he wore was hungry, greedy. He knew what we wanted, but he wanted to play a game. “Unfortunately,” he began, his voice a cold rumble that vibrated my chest, “you cannot see into my eyes. You cannot read my soul like you did Jerome’s. Worry not, little cousin. You will soon learn that we are all quite the same.” He purred again, this time I felt the ground beneath me rumble. I felt like I wasn’t careful, he might swallow me whole! “Your new ability lies in the souls of humans, not demons. If you really want to hone this Gift, go read the priests. There’s plenty of horror stories there. Ask Gerard about his daughter. You’ll know what happened either way, considering it’s not that hard to find out. Let’s just say not all priests like little boys.” My blood ran cold. This thing knew everything there was to know about everyone? “T-tell me then,” I stuttered out, “How is it that the Devil chose me? There’s no way some magical unicorn god or whatever is going to destroy our universe!” The fucking thing hissed at me. “What Beelzebub does is his own business. A hammer does not as why it is used to hit things. A 2x4 does not ask where it belongs. Humans and tools have one thing in common. They will break, and become useless. You, too, shall break and become useless if you do not hone your Gift.” I stared at him, flabbergasted. “The average human would have been begging to leave or have gone mad. You have experienced many traumas recently, and that number will only grow.” The demon gave me a friendlier smile, as friendly as you can get when you look like a nightmare demon, and said, “Worry not, Cousin. The time will come when you will speak to the Kings of Hell of your own volition, and they will accept you as one of their own. Your spirit bears a mark unknown to many, a heptagram, it means a blessing and a curse shall both follow you for eternity. Magic is real, little cousin. Learn to use it, and tell me what Gerard did to his daughter. The wicked smile appeared again. “Don’t try to convince yourself that you’re a human either, it ends messily.” The door swung open, and Iggy and Gerard walked in, crosses in hand. Felix gave me a mischievous smile, and I heard his voice in my head. “I love this part, watch this.” He turned his head to the side, and looked at them, before chanting something in a foreign language. “Ken! Get out!” I heard Joseph from behind me, and I rose to slowly back out. Iggy and Gerard were levitating! Not like in the movies, an orangish aura hovered around them, lifting them up, around, and down into the corner of the room. A sickening squelch filled the room as Felix coughed up a small ball of hair, muscle tissue, and what looked to be an embryo, and threw it at the priests. “The power of suggestibility is strong and menacing. When you can use it to alter someone’s senses, it becomes unstoppable.” Felix’s rumbling cat’s purr of a voice shook my skull. “To be above someone, you must control their thoughts, as I am with theirs in one way, and yours in another.” He was right, he had me thinking about how to use my Gift to fight my way out of the Rehab for Jesus Detention center. It clicked like a light in my head: I just need to control people with their deepest darkest secrets, use it against the Church, and if God doesn’t strike me down first, take over hell for sure. August 17th, 2016 I’ve been thinking about how to get out of here. Today, I made a cup of coffee, marched my way down to Iggy’s office, and knocked on the door firmly. “Come in,” I heard the caffeine, hanging onto his system for dear life in his voice, so I walked in and set the coffee on his desk. He looked at me, gave me a look of pure joy, and guzzled down the coffee in a few gulps. “Thanks, Buddy,” He stood, clapping me on the back as he walked by, and grabbed a Bible with a strange blue triangle on it off the shelf. “Now, what was it you needed?” I took a deep breath, and weighed my options: stay here forever, talking to possessed half-humans, or break a few hearts to get out of here. My choice was clear. “I need to talk to you about Gerard.” Iggy took a deep breath, scratched his head, and looked up at me. “What’s up with him?” I looked at the bible he held, and processed my next words carefully. “Yesterday, Felix told me to ask him about his daughter, that some priests don’t like little boys.” Iggy flinched at the sentence, and seemed to fly off, millions of miles away. “He did something unspeakable to her, didn’t he?” He gave me a look that said more than words ever could, and I found myself being pulled into his memory. A much younger Gerard sat on the ground, digging a hole with a spade. He walked out of view, picking up a mannequin with the picture of a little girl on the face, and threw it into the hole. He covered the hole, and began walking towards me. “Iggy, let’s go get Diana.” He helped Iggy up, leading him into a garage where a girl of maybe 7 or 8 was tied to a chair. “Daddy please! Don’t sacrifice me, please!” The priests laughed, their features discolored and pallid. Gerard picked up a lightbulb and a hammer, smashing the lightbulb. He used a clamp to pry Diana’s mouth open, and began dumping the shards of the lightbulb down her throat. She began to cough and choke, but Gerard strapped her head to the back of the chair. “Sacrifice is a big word, Diana. For now, you’re gonna be my supper. Don’t think too far past that, you won’t be there!” He let out a whooping laugh as he slammed the hammer into her stomach. She wretched, coughing up small amounts of glass and blood, as Gerard slammed the hammer into her stomach over and over, laughing like a hyena. Iggy began to stand, maybe to protect her, but my hope turned to horror when he began to strip off his clothes. I couldn’t watch anymore. I closed my eyes and pulled myself out of the memory, running to the bathroom and vomiting violently. That sick fuck, now I knew what Felix meant. I’m beginning to find out who the real heroes are in this battle. August 19th, 2016 Woke up to Gerard outside my cell, asking me to help with a problem in PW. How the fuck am I supposed to help with literal demons? Anyways, I made my way to the ward and saw that one of the priests’ assistants lay on the ground, ears leaking a red and clear fluid. A scream echoed from the hall, the sound itself pushing me backwards a few steps. You know when you hear a certain sound, and you feel a rumbling in your ears? Sounds so loud, you protectively stop listening until the ringing leaves your ears? I felt that rumbling in my ears, and knew what to do. See, rules here are that if you’re not of any danger to yourself, and since we’re always on surveillance, you can have electronics in your room. I grabbed my earbuds, put on some Devil Driver (the timing was just too great), and dashed into the PW. I didn’t get very far. As I charged in, Gerard and Iggy ran past me, pushing me towards the room as they (hopefully) got some ear protection. I didn’t want to face whatever the fuck this is alone! I kept it moving, getting to the room where a young man, a short skinny dude with short black hair, a goatee, and a red streak down his lip lay on his cot. He was screaming so loudly and for so long, I thought he was going to cough his vocal chords up or something. Thank fuck, Gerard came back with earmuffs and a case of syringes, all full of sedatives, and plunged one into the young man’s neck. He slumped over, his scream become a hoarse whisper as he drifted off into sleep. I made the mistake of looking into his eyes, accidentally travelling into his mind, and I, too, was screaming my head off uncontrollably in no time. Gerard injected me with a sedative as well, and I just recently woke up in my cot and started writing this. Eventful day, if you ask me. I’m going to go have a smoke or two, and go find some e-books to read. I’ve still got my bank balance, so as long as my purchases aren’t against the rules, I can buy whatever I want. Seriously, if I wasn’t in detrimental trouble for murder, I’d be paying rent to live here. August 23, 2016 Had to take a psychological evaluation administered by the State today. They said I’m sane, but they’ll be keeping a close eye on me. Maybe my theory that the justice system works for Satan isn’t too far off, after all. Why else would they develop such a deep-seeded interest in me after tons of people use the same excuse? I’m thinking old Nick has a few tricks up his sleeve for me yet. Nothing today to report of, just thought of this when I got back from the Clinic. August 25, 2016 I feel like I should clarify, I know I don’t talk about it, but yes, I do miss my wife. I haven’t slept once without a dream about killing her. It’s just really strange: I feel almost… apathetic about it. Like it could only have ended this way. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me having not dealt with the trauma of murder, or maybe it’s something else, but I feel like I shouldn’t be feeling guilty about the murder. Maybe I shouldn’t be, the Devil did say that it was for the good of the universe, but I remember that smile he gave me. That plastic smile, the expression of a hunter who never misses his prey, and never loses a battle he started. I’m going to be attempting a proper escape on the 30th, I won’t be writing until after then, as I need to properly plan my escape and weave my way around the priests’ emotions. If I do write, it’ll be about how Felix and Gerard respond to the… monstrosities that befell Gerard’s daughter. Ciao.
September 5, 2016 I didn’t get to escape, because Gerard tried to exorcise me. Gerard, the nice guy who brutalized his daughter and told me I’d be safe here. Basically, as I heading to the doors right before they automatically closed, I tipped off Jerome, and ran out the front doors. As I ran into freedom, I felt a frostbitten cold in my chest, and I sank to my knees. Gerard ran towards me, a blue crucifix burning his hand horrifically, but it seemed like he hadn’t even noticed. His tawny eyes were full of an almost inhuman rage, and his other hand was pale, skeletal and gaunt. As he got closer, a sound I’d mistaken for huffing in rage, was actually him gritting his teeth! Pieces of enamel and filling were flying from his mouth, producing a frothy red foam. “What in the unholy fuck do you think you are doing?!” His voice seemed to split into a higher and lower pitch. “At first, I thought you were hopefully going to have a smoke, but now you run? After all the hospitality and privileges we gave you! I was curious to see if you were truly good. All I see now is a coward who makes me livid.” He backhanded me, sending me flying back into a nearby dirt hill. It shook awake thousands of small insects, who crawled on my face and into many of my orifices eagerly. I wailed in pain, but Gerard threw the blue crucifix at me. It set all of the insects ablaze, crumbling away their frail bodies, but it didn’t so much as warm me up! In fact, it was cold, freezing even, on the spot on my chest it had landed. “Pick yourself up, Blaggard. You’ll retain your privileges, but don’t expect to be allowed to live so leniently like this for a good while.” He pulled me back up by the arm, his burns gone, his face and teeth were in tip-top shape. Was this the thing that inside him that had done those horrible things to his daughter? I’ve been locked in my cell for the past week or so, only using my laptop to write and watch YouTube. If this is my life, I suppose I’m fine with it. I could be much, much worse off than this. September 18, 2016 I haven’t written in 15 days, because there’s nothing to be written about. The Devil hasn’t said anything, the PW is just as populated as ever but I never see anything. So I’ve just been watching lots of tv shows and reading horror stories on Reddit. I might post it there to see if anyone has experienced the same thing with the Devil. Thought, I fear they might not have lived to tell the tale.
Adib Taherzadeh (April 29, 1921 - January 26, 2000) was a member of the Universal House of Justice, the supreme governing body of the Bahá’í Faith, from 1988 to 2000.When I was a Baha'i. I bought two of his books, The Covenant of Baha'u'llah, and The Child of the Covenant: A Study Guide to the Will and Testament of 'Abdu'l-Baha. The second book turned out to be a mere paraphrasing of the first rather than an actual sequel, thus I was tricked into buying a book I really didn't need at all.
Taherzadeh was born into a Bahá’í Family in Yazd, Iran. He studied electrical engineering at the University of Tehran, pursued advanced studies in Coventry, England, and worked as the chief engineer of an industrial concern from 1950 until 1984. His dedication to the Faith can be judged from the fact that while he was studying in Coventry, he would take public transport to get to Birmingham, where the nearest Feast was being held, and at the end of the Feast, by which time of the evening there were no further buses, he would walk back to Coventry.
Mr. Taherzadeh served on the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of the British Isles from 1960 to 1971. He was elected to the National Spiritual Assembly of the Baha'is of the Republic of Ireland when it was formed in 1972 and was appointed in 1976 to the European Continental Board of Counsellors, a senior advisory body. He was elected to the Universal House of Justice in 1988.
Encouraged by Siyyid Muhammad, Mirza Yahya made the preposterous claim of being the successor of the Bab — a position never contemplated by Him. Indeed, He categorically states in the Persian Bayan [4-5] that He appoints no successor to Himself. As a result of such harmful propaganda and acts of treachery and deceit, which kindled dissension among the believers, 'the fire of the Cause of God', as testified by Nabil, 'had been well-nigh quenched in every place'.Problem: Why would Mirza Yahya make such a claim if the Persian Bayan itself denies it? Wouldn't the Babis have access to the Bayan to know if there was a successor or not? And of course, Taherzadeh doesn't support this with a direct quote from the Bayan itself. Hmm....
It is important to recognise that every religion has had its beginnings characterized by the onrushing forces of divine Revelation vivifying the souls of men as in a spring season. But at the end of the Dispensation winter sets in and the spiritual energies die down. This process, in older Dispensations, lasted several centuries. For example, the springtime of Christianity, which lasted about three years during the Ministry of Jesus, was followed by the summer season a few centuries later when the Christian religion flourished. But with the advent of Muhammad, it lost its vitality and spiritual potency. The advent of a new Dispensation brings about the close of the older one.[1] All past religions have gone through this cycle of spring, summer and winter, and the Dispensation of the Bab is no exception. The only difference is that whereas this cycle in older religions lasted several centuries, in the case of the Bab's it took only a decade for the spiritual winter to set in.Problem: Didn't it ever occur to Taherzadeh that this same issue would also plague the Baha'i Faith?
The most essential prerequisites for the spiritual survival of all those who were close to Bahá'u'lláh were humility, self-effacement and utter nothingness in His presence. If these qualities were missing in an individual, he would be in great danger of spiritual downfall and eventual extinction.Problem: Baha'u'lah himself did NOT display these virtues. In the Kitab-i-Aqdas, he wrote:
O ye leaders of religion! Who is the man amongst you that can rival Me in vision or insight? Where is he to be found that dareth to claim to be My equal in utterance or wisdom? No, by My Lord, the All-Merciful! All on the earth shall pass away; and this is the face of your Lord, the Almighty, the Well-Beloved.Can you spell H-Y-P-O-C-R-I-S-Y?
We have decreed, O people, that the highest and last end of all learning be the recognition of Him Who is the Object of all knowledge; and yet, behold how ye have allowed your learning to shut you out, as by a veil, from Him Who is the Dayspring of this Light, through Whom every hidden thing hath been revealed. Could ye but discover the source whence the splendor of this utterance is diffused, ye would cast away the peoples of the world and all that they possess, and would draw nigh unto this most blessed Seat of glory.
Say: This, verily, is the heaven in which the Mother Book is treasured, could ye but comprehend it. He it is Who hath caused the Rock to shout, and the Burning Bush to lift up its voice, upon the Mount rising above the Holy Land, and proclaim: “The Kingdom is God’s, the sovereign Lord of all, the All-Powerful, the Loving!”
We have not entered any school, nor read any of your dissertations. Incline your ears to the words of this unlettered One, wherewith He summoneth you unto God, the Ever-Abiding. Better is this for you than all the treasures of the earth, could ye but comprehend it.
In distinct contrast to Mirza Muhammad-'Ali's claim was Abdu'l-Bahá's utter self-effacement. Many believers during Bahá'u'lláh's Ministry used to write letters to Abdu'l-Bahá, but He would not respond to them. For instance, Mirza Ali-Muhammad-i-Varqa,[1] who was later martyred, wrote a great many letters to Him. To none of these did Abdu'l-Bahá send a reply. At the end Varqa wrote to Mirza Aqa Jan, Bahá'u'lláh's amanuensis, and complained. When Bahá'u'lláh was informed about this He summoned Abdu'l-Bahá to His presence, and directed Him to send a reply to Varqa. Abdu'l-Bahá wrote a brief letter to him saying that when the Pen of the Most High is moving upon His Tablets, how could Abdu'l-Bahá be expected to write?If I wrote several letters to anyone and he never saw fit to reply to me, I would not think him humble. Quite the opposite! It's possible Abdu'l-Baha really didn't give a damn about his fellow Baha'is as long as he wasn't in charge yet.
Mirza Muhammad-'Ali's claim was not the only sign pointing to his ambitious nature, craving for leadership from this early age. His daily behaviour, even during Bahá'u'lláh's lifetime, gave clear indications of his lack of spirituality and purity of motive, and his jealousy of Abdu'l-Bahá was apparent to those who were close to him. As Mirza Muhammad-'Ali grew older, he acquired greater prestige among the believers. He thrived on the special consideration shown him by Bahá'u'lláh's followers in order to honour his Father. But many of Bahá'u'lláh's disciples who had spiritual eyes soon discovered his real nature and found him devoid of those divine virtues and spiritual qualities which characterize a true believer. Long before he broke the Covenant they were able to detect in him an air of superiority and self-glorification, and a craving for leadership and power.Problem: Appearantly Baha'u'llah himself never noticed these character flaws in Mirza Muhammad-'Ali. Otherwise, why would he mention both Abdu'l-Baha and Mirza Muhammad-'Ali in his Book of the Covenant as his successors?
And yet, the Blessed Beauty, in spite of Muhammad-'Ali's reprehensible conduct, conferred upon him a rank next to that of Abdu'l-Bahá. These are the words of Bahá'u'lláh in the Kitab-i-'Ahd, His Will and Testament:Problem: Adib Taherzadeh is actually admitting here that Baha'u'llah was an idiot to give such an unworthy son a high rank in the Baha'i Faith!
"Verily God hath ordained the station of the Greater Branch [Muhammad-'Ali] to be beneath that of the Most Great Branch [Abdu'l-Bahá]. He is in truth, the Ordainer, the All-Wise. We have chosen 'The Greater' after 'The Most Great,' as decreed by Him Who is the All-Knowing, the All-Informed." [8-5]
This passage brought about many tests and misunderstandings. Some of the believers who had been in close contact with Mirza Muhammad-'Ali knew him to be deceitful and materialistic, and avid for power. Others, reading the several condemnatory passages which Bahá'u'lláh had written about him, were sure that he was a perfidious individual who was related to Bahá'u'lláh only physically and had no spiritual relationship with Him. These people were deeply puzzled when they observed that Bahá'u'lláh had chosen such a person to succeed Abdu'l-Bahá. For it was concerning Mirza Muhammad-'Ali that Bahá'u'lláh had issued this ominous warning in one of His Tablets:
"By God, the True One! Were We, for a single instant, to withhold from him the outpourings of Our Cause, he would wither, and would fall upon the dust." [8-6]
To such a person, Bahá'u'lláh in the Kitab-i-'Ahd grants the right to succeed Abdu'l-Bahá. And indeed, Mirza Muhammad-'Ali publicly claimed this successorship both during the Ministry of Abdu'l-Bahá and after His Ascension.
Bahá'u'lláh was fully aware of Mirza Muhammad-'Ali's shortcomings, yet, as the second surviving son of Bahá'u'lláh, it was his birthright to occupy a station next to that of Abdu'l-Bahá. God did not pronounce judgement on him before his rebellion against the Cause. Mirza Muhammad-'Ali was given the chance to mend his ways and take his rightful position within the Faith but he failed, as in a test, and thus perished spiritually.That's BULLSHIT! Being ANY son of Baha'u'llah should not have given someone a birthright to be Baha'i leader after him. I know Baha'is in the Middle East were used to living under absolute monarches, but if this religion was supposed to be a Faith to last 1000 years, then Baha'u'llah should have rejected the concept of monarchy and appointed the most worthy person to lead the Baha'i community, whether a relative of his or not!
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You can check the laws at U.S. Marriage Laws. Certain states allow a One-Day Marriage Designation where family members or friends can officiate at a wedding ceremony. So you can do both–get ordained online and become a temporary officiant for a day–to conduct the wedding. When you get ordained as a Minister you will hold an official title and can legally perform weddings and ceremonies. You can conduct spiritual counseling, hold worship services, perform all other sacerdotal duties of a minister or even start your own church. We invite you to get ordained online and become a minister of Open Ministry today. Can you get ordained to officiate a friend’s marriage like Adele? Singer conducted Alan Carr’s California wedding - but UK law makes process far trickier. by The Week team. 5 Apr 2018. Is it possible to get ordained online in Ireland? Close. 2. Posted by 1 year ago. Archived. Is it possible to get ordained online in Ireland? It's always something I've wanted to do, but searching it leads me to websites that I think are scams, does anyone know the official legal process in Ireland to get ordained? 9 comments. Get Ordained Online as a Christian Minister with the Christian Leaders Alliance. The Alliance partners with Christian Leaders Institute recognizing your ordination on a global directory. Christian Leaders Institute will guide you through a credible, internationally and locally recognized minister ordination process. 1 How to Become an Ordained Minister in Ireland. If you haven't already, you should get ordained online with the Universal Life Church. Ordination is free and can be completed in just a matter of minutes. Thousands of legally valid marriages are performed by ULC ministers around the world every year. Anybody can become a minister, from your next-door neighbor to celebrities like Conan O'Brien and Bryan Cranston ! How to Get Ordained and Perform a Wedding. Fill out our quick and easy ordination application online to become an ordained minister. Getting Ordained Online. Becoming an ordained wedding officiant online is almost embarrassingly easy. Grab a device that connects to the Internet (e.g. a smartphone or a computer) Go to an online non-denominational ministry’s website, such as The Universal Life Church Ministries or Open Ministry. Click on “Get Ordained” or something to that effect. Instant Online Ordination! You are about to become an ordained minister with the Universal Life Church Ministry. Get ordained today.
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