posted on May, 28 2015 @ 06:20 PM
“Do you believe in our father?” asks the blue eyed man with a cross carved into his forehead, while he scratches the track marks on his arm.
“I believe...but...but...I'm scared,” says the young girl tied to the bed with tears in her eyes and a shaky voice.
“The father is my light and my salvation, whom shall I fear? The father is the stronghold of my life, of whom shall I be afraid? The father is with
me, I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? For the father did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of
self-discipline,” says the old man with a beard, one eye, and the smell of rum and sin on his breath. Standing next to the blue eyed man with a
cross carved into his forehead.
“Like Moses said to the Israelites. I AM, who is the father. In this time he has sent us to you and you to us. In this time when the world burns.
When Behemoths fall from the sky. When the children of Lilith burst forth from the bellies of those beasts and overrun the kingdoms of man. Your body
is the vessel. The father will enter you and the lamb will become the lion,” sings the blue eyed man with a cross carved into his forehead, a smile
on his face, mischief in his eyes, and snake oil in his veins.
The young girl with blonde hair closes her green tear filled eyes. Goosebumps begin to spread along her body. She trembles as she tries to remember
the things the two men made her memorize. The things said to her in the times with them she thinks of as the light. The times in between the things
that went on with them that she thinks of as the dark.
When she remembers it all she says, “I know that my body is a temple within me, that I have from the father. I am not my own, for I was bought with
a price. So I glorify the father with my body. I submit to you as I would to the father. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as the father
is the head of the church of genuine salvation, the one true church of the father. Therefore as the church of genuine salvation is subject unto the
father, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything.”
As soon as the word everything leaves the young girl tied to the beds mouth. She detaches from reality and enters her happy place. A place of pink
things. Where her clothes, the furniture, the walls, even the sky is pink. A place that even smells of pink things. Like roses, and bubble gum, and
her little dog too. Which in her happy place is a miniature heavily perfumed pink poodle, aptly named Pinkie.
In her happy place she does not have to think about the things that fell from the sky. Or the things that came out of the things that fell from the
sky. She does not have to think about what happened to her dad, when he tried to get her out of town. She does not have to think about the woman who
found her and gave her to the two men at the church of genuine salvation. For what she thinks looked like a baggie of hard clumped up sugar. She does
not have to think about whats going to happen next. She does not have to think about anything. But still she thinks about one thing.
Because in her happy place, her soul is free. So she imagines a falling star. That of course is pink. On this falling star she makes a wish with every
fiber of her being, “I wish that someone will help me. I'm young but I'm no longer young. I'm not naive anymore. There is evil in this world. But
if there is evil. Then there must be good. The two bad men say they worship something that is good. But I know they just worship themselves. So
whatever is out there that's good. Will you please help me. I would do it myself. But even though I'm no longer young, I'm young. The bad men are
stronger then me in body but not spirit. So please whatever is out there that's good. Help me or make me stronger so I can help myself. Thank you and
A long time ago and a far time from now. In a reality far far away and also really close. A circle within a circle within a circle watches and waits.
The circle within a circle within a circle has watched and waited for a very long time. Some might say forever. What she watches can not be
described. Do not worry. She does not watch you. You can be described. Others watch those things that can be described.
The circle within a circle within a circle is very patient. It is an honor to be where she is. She has learned much. Like what is happening on an
insignificant little blue planet and a young girls wish. Her long wait has been worth it. But all things come to an end. Even those things that are
endless. He blinks. Who is he. Everything. Nothing. It does not matter. All you need to know is that he blinked. Why did he blink. Maybe he is tired.
Maybe he sneezed. Maybe he knew a young girl needed help. Again all that matters is he blinked.
The circle within a circle within a circle takes advantage of the opportunity the blink provides and moves fast. She has a wish to grant and a mess
to clean up. A mess made by her brothers of the lower orders. As they say two birds with one stone. She must act quickly. She must return before he is
done blinking and his eyes open again. There are rules after all. Even though some can be bent from aeon to aeon.
The two leering men. Hearts shrouded in shadows. Evil on their minds. Begin to approach the young girl tied to the table. The man with the cross
carved in his forehead laughs the whole way. The bearded old man with one eye, strokes his beard in anticipation. As they reach the bed. The young
girl begins to violently shake. Her tears are replaced by blood. Her eyes roll back into her head. Her body begins to float off the bed. The ropes
tied to her hands and feet stop her from floating all the way to the ceiling. Pink smoke begins to come off her body.
The man with the cross carved into his forehead drops to his knees and begins to pray. The old bearded man with one eyes defiantly says, “I command
you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of the father.”
“OL BOLAPE A NOCO DE ELO. ELASA BOLAPE A NOR DE GE VAOAN. EN DOOAIN BOLAPE PAGE OD AZIAZOR,” says the circle within a circle
within a circle as she downloads a tiny part of herself into this reality. Not from the mouth of the young girl tied to the bed, her chosen vessel.
She speaks directly into the souls of the man with the cross carved into his forehead and the old bearded one eyed man. As she says the words, an all
encompassing light, shoots out of the body of the young girl tied to the bed. The light completely obliterates the two men. Leaving nothing but the
shadows of the two men, blasted into the floor.