GREAT TERROR

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GULAG “Black Lodge Discipline Center” presents a hideous inaugural power electronics delivery and the first audio project internal to and authorized by the Tempel ov Blood. A harsh sonic delivery, GULAG is spearheaded by a Commissar of the TOB and features liberal samples of actual correctional punishments, abuse and forced worship recorded within the TOB’s Black Lodge Discipline Center.

Now available in a professional cassette release on the thirtieth of July in honor of the Great Terror via Deathwave Nexion and licensed through Martinet Press. Available from TOB directly for $10 USD including shipping and handling. GULAG “Black Lodge Discipline Center” cassette, TOB support patch and GULAG badge $25 USD shipping and handling inclusive. Purchase within United States only. Inquiries to: nightmover@hush.com

“I was made to lie face down and beaten on the soles of my feet and my spine with a rubber strap … For the next few days, when those parts of my legs were covered with extensive internal hemorrhaging, they again beat the red-blue-and-yellow bruises with the strap and the pain was so intense that it felt as if boiling water was being poured on these sensitive areas. I howled and wept from the pain. I incriminated myself in the hope that by telling them lies I could end the ordeal.”

 

 

 

 

UNKNOWING HERALD OF A BLOODY DAWN

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One of the thin, wasp-like arms of the commandant reached down to finger the leather nursery strap that hung upon the black webbed utility belt that encircled her waist. Bluebird’s eyes widened for she began to see that many more instruments of torture and pain hung from the commandant’s belt and she knew in a moment of revelation that as she herself possessed an instrument in the likeness of the commandant’s own punishment strap and the administration and authority that such designated she soon would possess those other devices and mechanism of pain and verily be privy to all that they represented. As the commandant fingered the strap, her other hand raised and a long finger extended pointing into the distance – pointing beyond the image, beyond the regional headquarters – into the area of the unconquered region into which Bluebird, Britta and a wide cross-section of the organization’s military force would be penetrating now only a few hours hence.

A small filament of smoke began to inexplicably emanate from the extended finger of the commandant and then becoming a small cloud, iron grey and sootish black, which hung in the air. Within it could be seen the crackling of lightning and the sounds of millions of mechanical devices smashing and grinding into one another could be heard emanating from within. As the sound began its harsh rapport hot wet tears began to flow down Bluebird’s freckled cheeks, for she knew that this sound was the voice of the commandant herself.

The grey black clouds began to part slightly then and the light within them grew more pronounced – where the rent was made visions began to appear, cascading one upon the other in breakneck speed, yet Bluebird retained each one in its entirety – every aspect and import that was meant to be relayed by the commandant comprehended. In her visions blood spilled in waves upon waves, pools of blood in which the enemies of the organization drowned in abject despair. She saw her own martial forces, her units that marched beneath a pale blue flag bearing the black outline of a human figure from which expanded a starburst extending outward from an area between the heart and throat. She saw herself, radiant upon the back of an organizational tactical vehicle, standing aloft as winds carrying upon them spectral wraiths composed of yellow poisonous gas and before her alien figures, identities entirely obscured inside hazardous material suits, spreading out over a ruined landscape filled with screams, sobs and faces that had begun to melt into themselves.

Both of the girls visions slowly faded to black and fitful sleep came upon them. As the embers of the fire beneath the propaganda image of the commandant began to burn low the cult recruiters softly quietly moved about these two platinum graduates of the commandant’s training center. The needles and wires were removed from their wrists, restraints undone and their naked bodies gingerly lifted up withdrawing them from the metal inserts which had penetrated them. Small beds had been prepared, beneath the ever-watchful image of the commandant, and the two naked figures were wrapped in rough-hewn blankets and allowed to rest if only for a few hours. Outside of the bay doors of the loading area a reddish orange sun began to rise from behind the heavily wooded hills of the border region and somewhere in the rebel territories a cockerel began to crow, the unknowing herald of a bloody dawn.

SOURCE: Excerpted from BLUEBIRD – the second installment of the post-apocalyptic trilogy authored by the Tempel ov Blood that began with IRON GATES.

A thirteen year-old girl in a futuristic setting after a year of rigorous cult programming and systematic abuse at the hands of a brutal paramilitary organization finds herself installed as a deity representing the embodiment of chemical and radiological warfare in a disease-ridden DMZ-type border area between the paramilitary organization with whom she enlisted and the gateway to areas of unknown nuclear-war devastated territories from which she came.

BLUEBIRD – forthcoming from Martinet Press in 2016.

 

DETENTION

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ELICITATION – Obtaining information without revealing the intent or exceptional interest of the questioner, through a verbal or written exchange with a subject who may or may not be willing to provide it if he knew the true purpose.

CONTROL – The capacity to cause or change certain types of human behavior by implying or using physical or psychological means to induce compliance. Compliance may be voluntary or involuntary.

Control can rarely be established without control of the environment. By controlling the subject’s physical environment, we will be able to control his psychological state of mind.

THE PSYCHOPATHIC GOD

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As the narcotics took hold within Astrid she found herself scanning the torture floor of the hall eagerly, foaming spittle dribbling from her mouth – so many hellish delights to which her still wayward daughters had been and would be subjected to. The freshest girls however, those most fearful – yet untouched – were the objects of her single-minded desire as she watched them being driven forth by the long whips of her already partially developed and highly sadistic entourage. Her eyes narrowed even more as her pupils dilated under the effects of the drugs – the well-worked muscles of her back and triceps suffuse with new life, new sustenance, by dint of the speed and the human protein recently consumed. Which of these fresh daughters would be first subjected to her wrath, her programming, her desire? Despite Astrid’s intention to remain some semblance of composure she found herself laughing, maniacally so, and though her body shacked with mirth within her robes all that escaped her mouth was a raspy hiss – subdued in volume but still enough to attract the attention of both penitents and administrative young sisters-to-be who acted as the facilitators and sometimes as the very extension of her own punitive will – for the latter knew that their disciplinary ministrations reflected that of their command and if their own executionary discipline was not up to par it was Astrid herself whom they would have to answer to.

None of the apparatus which spread across the hall was arbitrary in nature – each device, each implement, each environment in miniature being decided upon well in advance; thoughtfully, meticulously, by senior sisters within the cult recruiters and with the expert input of both special intelligence, internal security and the width and breadth of the most secure sectors of the organization. These were the mechanisms built to develop and instill applied terror – for those who so graduating under pressed and punished flesh would be those instilling and applying even greater terror – organized and fearfully despotic – upon similiarly fresh flesh in the outer areas – the regions towards which the sharp-fingered hand the commandant grasped toward, ever closer, in a psychotic will to dominate, possess, transfigure. And – when such transfiguration had come to full flower – what horror then would sprout violently from the shattered, poisoned earth? Astrid laughed in horrific future speculation – this time audibly causing her minions and still green trainees, both equally captive, to shudder.

Time passed forward into time in fluid measure under the effects of the drugs and before Astrid herself knew the moment for further punishment had arrived, the commencement of yet another correctional cycle – each future sister to be receiving and future sister minders to be administrating situated at their respective stations one and all, prepared and at the ready for the sound of the large brass gong and – upon thrice sounded – brutal and harsh discipline to commence. From the area nearest to the entrance to the cells across the hall two small acolytes, extremely young and as such exceedingly short in stature, features hidden completely beneath black robes and hoods, the length of their robes reaching down to the ground itself, giving the impression that they were gliding across the floor, positioned themselves before the golden circular instrument – kneeling down and then extending themselves again with stout wooden staves in hand – the ends bound with a sphere of leather made from taut human skin.

Astrid sat rigid as she awaited her signal – fists bounded together so tight that blood dripped from the small fissures within balled hands – then releasing to shove the last few gelatinous crumbs of narcotic speed-laced corpse product between trembling red lips. The chapel hall stretched before her now even more vast in apprehension, each acolyte to be tortured again and each one virginal to such pain awaiting the very new and unique horrific minstrations of her and her minions, all naked and shaking in fear, each a pulsating human link in a chain of terror that would extend in time to the very fructification of her soon coming destiny, deadly and clandestine.

Once the sound of the gong… then twice… then thrice. Even as the last reverberation of the instrument began to fade through the dread hall it was replaced with another sound altogether – the sounds of dozens upon dozens of screams intermingling one unto the other, the sounds of leather straps, canes of diverse design, wooden paddles along with satanic whips of myriad fashion and flesh itself as the instrument of torment punishing naked flesh. Tandem to this the sudden sound of devilish machinery starting in sputters, generators igniting, the primitive cranks of mechanical devices of torture – then the wailing beginning as these instruments so designed went about their horrible tasks.

Astrid sprang from her seat, her mouth curled into a horrific smile and screamed – her own sound of predatory rapture enhanced by the dint of the trauma-induced brainwashing and sundry training she had undergone for countless years in the dungeons of the commandant creating a deep, trilling and visceral sound that penetrated even the din of the mass torture now taking place. Her shrieking heard and duly apprehended by the organizational personnel her junior, the mass torture did not pause in the timber of its discipline but rather increased.

SOURCE: Excerpted from BLUEBIRD – the second installment of the post-apocalyptic trilogy authored by the Tempel ov Blood that began with IRON GATES.

A thirteen year-old girl in a futuristic setting after a year of rigorous cult programming and systematic abuse at the hands of a brutal paramilitary organization finds herself installed as a deity representing the embodiment of chemical and radiological warfare in a disease-ridden DMZ-type border area between the paramilitary organization with whom she enlisted and the gateway to areas of unknown nuclear-war devastated territories from which she came.

BLUEBIRD – forthcoming from Martinet Press in 2016.