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         Eyes peel themselves open sending tiny particulates of scabbed blood into the light breeze that he’s just become aware of. “Ches” (Reverend Chester Fields. His chain-smoking father had a warped sense of humor) now grasps that he’s outside. As he fully comes into himself, unnaturally groggy, drugged, Ches realizes new discomforts and pains formerly alien to this pampered bully. These sudden agonies include the ¾ inch thick wrought iron hooks through his scabbed over wrists and calves that have him suspended by leather straps hooked to wooden poles just inches above the earth. There’s something in his mouth. Leather? He would scream but for the tight leather binding creasing his cheeks while holding the bit in place. The initial pains disappear.

            I’m not wearing any clothes? Who are all these naked people in white robes surrounding me? -Are his thoughts as he blinks more dried blood away and begins to notice his surroundings. I’m over black dirt with a white salt star? Mountains… Devil worshippers? Is that even a thing? I need to get out of here. Maybe I can con someone to let me go if I can get this shit outta my mouth. -He thinks as he struggles to spit out the leather bit. He begins to take note of everyone. There are children inside the human circle from ages 5 to 16, all wearing fine cotton swaddling-cloths and nothing more. Some of these robed chicks are hot. Psychos, right? I can con psychos… -Are more thoughts that occur to Ches between wincing. I should be in more pain with all this going on. Drugs?

            “Yes. A Mercy for what you’re about to endure…” A soft posh sounding British woman’s voice from behind him confirms his thoughts. Who, the fuck, are you? You can read my mind? Let me see you! Ches thinks as he futilely attempts to turn his head toward the obvious female behind him. The nude and arm-locked onlookers wear uniform wide-eyed innocent smiles in the perfect circle in which they surround him. That shit is creepy!

            “We can all read your thoughts, Reverend Chester Adam Fields. So, please, watch your language. There are children present. I’m required to answer your questions before the ceremony ends. So, I’ll begin if you don’t mind: By ancient executioner law, you’ll never see my face. You’ll go to what you know of as hell never knowing who sent you there.”

 Hell?! I’m a holy man, not going to die here! You can’t kill me! People know where I am! I’ll be searched for! I’m fucking important, you psychotic bitches! If you let me go right now, I’ll forget everything!

SILENCE, CHES. (with patient venom) I have a job to do… That’s better.”

            Ches’s mind clogs. He blinks and blinks in an attempt to regain mental clarity, but it’s to no avail. All he can focus on are the pretty faces and nude and/or mostly naked bodies in front of him, and that beautiful disembodied feminine voice.

“You haven’t asked it, yet, but I’m obligated to tell you why you’re here; and why you’ll physically die today. We require a fallen angel and a pure demon in order to create a dimensional gate and a house for our coming lord. Guess which you are? This can’t be performed at just any time since we had to be perfectly aligned with Orion’s gate. But now is the time, and five minutes from now is the moment. I’m sure you’re confused, dear Ches. So, I’ll speak in as small of terms as possible. Rifling through the mess you call a mind we have discovered that you’ve read… Genesis in your Bible. This’ll make things easier. The images we will now place before your brain are from prerecorded history. The bible only tells one seventh of the story, yet you idiots worship every word as if they matter.”

            “There was a beginning for man on this planet, but it’s not exactly what you believe. Genesis appears to repeat the creation tale for a very specific reason. But you self-righteous religious idiots are too light brained to conceive it. We humans were engineered by ages old races to serve them in order that we mined our planet so they may use some of our minerals to restore their respective worlds. In return we were to be granted universal knowledge that would have mentally evolved us so that we may finally cement our place among the higher beings in the cosmos. We are here to restore our position among those we are meant to serve in order to achieve the higher knowledge and reasoning skills we’ve arrogantly abandoned. Most mortals are only allowed to use small parts of our brains until we as a species mature enough to be shown our higher potential. Religious morons like yourself call it the Veil, placed by your vague idea of God so you may not see heaven or hell. Rest assured that you were… partially correct, there is a Heaven, Ches. There is a Hell, but they’re not what you can currently comprehend since they are… planets adjacent to our current dimension. There was an ancient war that began with the Anunnaki and Pleiadians. Our guides. Both and 4 other factions have the right to rule and use us as they wish. None would share even the creation of the others. But all took earth females as they sexually desired. The Nephilim were born as a result. Two directly descended from each survived the great flood meant to wipe them all out. You are a direct descendant. (gently) As is she.”

            Ches suddenly finds his head forced to turn far to his right. He beholds a soft brown-haired, fair skinned, stunningly beautiful young woman loosely adorned with white cloths made of extremely fine natural fibers. She is bound by the biceps and thighs with black leather straps of the unmanufactured variety, just like the ones binding him. The girl is unconscious, sleeping serenely and completely exposed. Ches unsuccessfully attempts to turn his head further to behold the source of the voice behind him. His head is snapped facing forward, looking at the beautiful uniform wide-eyed smiling faces of all ages and races surrounding him. It is now he notices that he’s being held above the ground by impossibly strong looking men. There are two males in prime “Arnold Swarzenegger” and “Lou Ferrigno” shape on each side of him, each is holding a smoked wooden rod made of some type of hardwood. To these rods are tied with the same naturally made black leather ropes that fasten the wrought iron hooks inserted into his wrists and calves.

“We only have three minutes left, Ches, so I must finish. Because of your ancestry and the cruel life you’ve chosen, (kindly spoken) your vessel is perfect for an ascension of this kind. Using religion as a means to perform evil acts against your fellow beings has a price, today, Ches. A soul carries certain properties based upon the actions the owner of that soul employs. Mental focus designs the body and being, afterall. Intentional cruelty has colored your human spirit and added the necessary properties for this ritual. You’ll not feel anything, Ches, but your body will now become a dimensional conduit. Our masters cannot enter this dimensional plane anymore save through unsanctioned dimensional gates like yourself. If you were able to look beneath you, you’d notice celestial symbols drawn in white, pink and black salt. Some, like pentacles and crosses, you’d recognize as occult. All are completely meaningless without the mental focus upon their origins. Your blood upon these minerals and symbols of our focus will create a wormhole for an awaiting soul. Once inside you they will consume your every mineral in order to create a human body for themselves. This new body will be shot by you into that young and pure souled woman. She’s not necessarily a virgin, but perfect of heart. Our master will need a place in which to gestate. Once he or she grows to maturity, away from their mother, raised by us, they will seek her out and consume her life force, her living heart, in order to grow to full strength. He or she may then properly rule our kind as the cosmos intended. Take comfort in the fact that you’ll feel no discomfort. Your spirit will return to your origin and you will have ushered in a new age for humans. Hell will not be torture for you, but a homecoming, dear Ches. Now, you will be aware of this, but you’ll not experience pain; as I’ve mentioned. For this is the moment of your destiny and you must be unclouded.”

The children all sit with knees angled and feet flat upon the finely attended brick dust and dried clay soil. The wide eyed innocently smiling circle of white, 800 thread count, cotton robed adult zealots begins to sway left and right while gently singing in a hopeful chorus: “Behold our master shall be born from you. You who abused. You who have used. You-shall couple with this kind perfect she. Selfless and free. Courageous being. 6-6 6-must become our master’s age. He’ll take his place. Now comes the blade.”

            Ches’s eyes widen as the footlong quadruple edged pure silver blade his unseen voice stealthily wore about her pelvic area, tied fast with naturally tanned leather straps, is fully inserted deftly into his anus. She thrusts back hard and with purpose. As the blade is swiftly removed a stream of blood completely covers the salt symbols below Ches. He feels something enter him through the blood stream. Something large. He wants to cry out. He wants to feel pain, or to feel anything. He gets part of his wish.

            As the wide silent circle of wonderously smiling, open robed and nude beings sways slower and slower, Ches notices he’s suddenly experiencing… arousal! This makes no sense to him since he can clearly feel himself being efficiently consumed from the inside. The ultra-strong men carrying the poles that suspend him begin to walk him toward the unconscious woman. His executioner remains perfectly concealed behind them. The girl suddenly awakens with a warm welcoming expression toward Ches. He’s never lain eyes on this young girl, probably 24 years, prior to this day but this bound man cannot imagine he’s ever desired anyone more; even as his left eye is sucked inward all Ches can experience is sexual yearning.

“Her name is Bethesda, dear Ches. She’s originally from Israel, with Greek descent, but she’s an American like you. She’ll never have any memory of you save that the father of her child is a brave and handsome reverend. After the child is born, she’ll never have memory of you or the pregnancy until her appointed time of death.”

            Ches suddenly believes Bethesda is the most beautiful name he’s ever heard/woman he’s ever known. He can still clearly view her even as his rib bones disappear leaving a growing bulge where was once the inside of his bowels. So much intense longing for this girl, -even as his remaining eye is sucked inward. The men carrying him position him above Beth. Soft feminine hands from behind and beneath guide his erection into her vagina as the muscles of his arms and legs disappear into the pulsating distended stomach mass that now shoots into the suddenly pregnant and smiling Bethesda. What’s left of Reverend Chester Adam Fields falls limp upon the ground; just skin and waste, not even bones remain.

            “Now, children, watch carefully. Behold with your eyes and minds what is now transpiring.”

~by Lord Veil (2020/1/3)

What you’ve just read is the beginning of a short story tentatively entitled BEYOND. This story fragment, BEYOND, is only available on this website and not allowed to be copied or reprinted for any reason without direct author permission.

BEYOND has already been described as very weird by a trusted reader. If it’s too weird for people then I’m probably doing something right, in my opinion. As for the rest of the story: Bethesda will have her baby just as described in the above context. She’ll give birth, then she’ll have no memory of having been pregnant. But, who is Bethesda? Why is she described above as a pure soul? How will her friends and co-workers react to her pregnancy?

The product of this human sacrifice, the child, must seek out the mother at the appointed age in order to eat her living heart. Will Bethesda die by the hand of a child she doesn’t remember having? Or does she have a friend she’s yet unaware of who can prepare her for what’s to come?

Find out next month in the forthcoming continuation!

As ever, I’m grateful for whomever enjoys my monolog heavy and often obscure literary works. It means the world to me that I can entertain you in some capacity.

Thank you for reading!


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