I DECIDED TO GET RID OF THE OBSOLETE IDEA OF MORALITY

vm32_agent

It is not for nothing that the archetypal presentation of the vampire in folklore and representations from antiquity present the vampire as an inhabitant of the extreme wilderness of existence – unclean in their constitution, nature and proclivities existing in a state and environment complimentary to that state of separation, disdain and hatred of all that which is considered sacred to humanity whether that apparent sanctity be held forth as such from a religious, cultural or societal standpoint. No matter how seemingly expert one may be as a neophyte in presenting to others – whether these others be friendly or hostile to ones pursuits – for a fraction of the time the mood that one thinks embodies the vampiric – without a profound and indeed devastating level of separation from the human herd one is only play-acting – a dabbler at best, a purveyor of utterly dry and impotent mimicry at worst.

It is not enough to invert the cross – nor enough to trample upon the sanctified host – though both, at least for those coming from a religious background, may provide at very least shadow symptoms of compromising one’s own base programming – providing the first hunter’s scent of what it might mean to become an actual agent of chaos – of engaging in a tangible way with darkness and causing real disruption to oneself, to others and to institutions which may be considered an appropriate canvas upon which to illustrate ones burgeoning and increasingly inhuman wrath.

And, if one avails oneself of the immediate, preliminary and entirely requisite stage of accepting in earnest the poison that is the vampiric current, the seed from which the undead state will sprout, that inhuman wrath will come – even unbidden – for many of the developments that one will experience along the amoral path of black vampirism, forbidden as they are for those clinging to their humanity, will come without forewarning.

SOURCE: Excerpted from Emerge as Sociopath, Tempel ov Blood 2016 Era Horrificus. Photograph depicts a hooded AGENT VM32 during the concourse of a rank advancement ordeal staged in a wilderness area in the United States in late October of this year.

WHEN DOOM DRAWS NEAR THE VULTURES WILL GATHER

sp_cropped

All of the shock troops there in small assembly bore crude tattoos marking them as adherents of the commandant’s cult – mushroom clouds bearing insane and deranged faces, myriad explicit scenes of gleeful torture and killing of innocents as well as strange abstract symbols which were believed to channel the bleak energies of nuclear death personified.

As they stared into the night sky they could feel those markings burning and pulsating as above the strange clouds continued their bizarre turnings.

As the female shock trooper had labored during the earlier afternoon, sweat dripping down her brow as she dug trenches under the dangerous and highly ultraviolet rays of the sun above, she had felt a pain wrench through her on her right side – coming on suddenly and so violentally that she had doubled over. As the sharp piercing sensation retreated into a dull throb she straightened herself, aware that her body had suddenly come beneath a shadow that came and then receded along an interval pattern. Staring upward she saw them – huge, black vultures circling in counter-clockwise fashion, casting the darkness of their outstretched, stinking blood-flecked wings upon not the dead but the living.

From the cult recruiters on the periphery on their missions of procurement, to the shock troops building the infrastructure of terror itself and even among those young ones – those recently procured – the females among their number exchanging their rotted garments for the black robes of the acolyte – all were aware that time was shifting in a fashion most unnatural. Not only were they individually being taken in hand by dark forces entirely outside of their control but the earth itself and the laws that governed it, ungovernable as the scorched earth seemed at times, were being changed – manipulated. Increasingly there was the palpable sense that reality itself was becoming a shimmering miasma, a hallucination with a handler most dread at the helm and the land itself a liminal space bereft of even the semblance of natural progression – a sense that anything could happen.

The female shock trooper remembered now in total recall the vultures circling above and so closely in the late afternoon, remembering the unmistakable feeling that those flecks of stale blood from their rot-covered wings raining down on her upturned face effected – gently caressing her in a blasphemous anointing. She recalled the tears that had come to her eyes without conscious volition, fracturing her vision like a broken mirror and the sight of the walls of the commander’s headquarters beyond – the razor-tipped concertina wire shimmering underneath the rays of that aging sun above them, most horrible, seeming to stretch limitlessly in all directions. Now that night had fallen the razor wire still shined brightly – illuminated and visible for miles by the anti-aircraft lights that had been requisitioned from the old military bases, now overgrown and crumbling, a sign of the commander’s unbridled hubris and uncanny penchant and ability to control and possess.

Each of the shock troopers eyes were now transfixed to the night sky – each sharing the same vision: the clouds churning violently, separating then merging, swirling at some disturbance of an occult nature that none of them could readily ascertain. Each saw in the periphery of their sight the distant secure perimeter of the commander’s headquarters and each saw in varying stages of advance that razor-wire encircling not only the commander’s headquarters but the whole totality of the planet. From the iron clouds above them a precipitation began to fall – not water but blood and intermingled therein flesh, chopped and still bleeding. Far beyond upon the black horizon where the curvature of the earth was blatantly visible they saw falling stars – one at first, then several – then dozens, hundreds – thousands. The deathly sickle that had once descended, more than seventy years past, was descending once again and who could withstand what was to come when nuclear holocaust presented itself, herself, not shrouded in the concealment of generals hell-bent on destruction but there in fullness, in a form most personal, in the host of those so fanatically committed to the fulfillment of her will?

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.

PAIN HAS A FACE

pain_has_a_face_edited.jpg

“Oh my Father, Lord of Silence, Supreme God of Desolation, though mankind reviles yet aches to embrace, strengthen my purpose to save the world from a second ordeal of Jesus Christ and his grubby mundane creed. Show man instead the raptures of Thy kingdom. Infuse in him the grandeur of melancholy, the divinity of loneliness, the purity of evil, the paradise of pain.”

SOURCE: Excerpted from the script for The Final Conflict, David Seltzer, 1981. Graphic courtesy clandestine organizational personnel from a self-criticism session and trauma-induced programming ordeal from October 14th, 2016 Era Horrificus.

 

 

WE NEVER SLEEP

stress_position1

A recently released report by the US Senate Select Committee on Intelligence focused on the CIA’s detention and interrogation program following the 9/11 terrorist attacks.  According to the report, among the “enhanced interrogation techniques” used in this program was sleep deprivation:

“Sleep deprivation involved keeping detainees awake for up to 180 hours, usually standing or in stress positions, at time with their hands shackled above their heads. At least five detainees experienced disturbing hallucinations during prolonged sleep deprivation and, in at least two of those cases, the CIA nonetheless continued the sleep deprivation.”

Since the release of the report, Americans have debated whether or not the methods used by the CIA can be properly called “torture.”  I don’t know about the other methods, but I do know that the methods of sleep deprivation reportedly used are clearly acts of torture.  In fact, prolonged sleep deprivation is an especially insidious form of torture because it attacks the deep biological functions at the core of a person’s mental and physical health.  It is less overtly violent than cutting off someone’s finger, but it can be far more damaging and painful if pushed to extremes.

Why is this?  Start with the fact that sleep is a basic biological necessity for all humans, indeed for all creatures on the planet.  There is some natural variability and flexibility in the sleep cycle, hence people can go 24 or more hours without sleep in the right circumstances, without any lasting harm other than additional “rebound” sleep the next time they are able to sleep normally.  However, if a person is deprived of sleep for longer than that, several mental and physical problems begin to develop.

The first signs of sleep deprivation are unpleasant feelings of fatigue, irritability, and difficulties concentrating.  Then come problems with reading and speaking clearly, poor judgment, lower body temperature, and a considerable increase in appetite.  If the deprivation continues, the worsening effects include disorientation, visual misperceptions, apathy, severe lethargy, and social withdrawal.

For ethical reasons, professional researchers have never pushed the deprivation process beyond this point with human subjects.  Researchers have used animals for more extreme experiments, and the inevitable result is that prolonged sleep deprivation will eventually kill a creature. Various behavioral impairments accumulate along the way as the deprivation continues, but if the experiment is pushed far enough the final result is always a widespread physiological failure leading to death.  The cumulative effects of sleep deprivation go beyond the loss of this or that specific function to a precipitous, ultimately fatal decline in all functions.

Part of the reason for this calamitous breakdown is that during sleep the immune system performs a host of vital regenerative functions that are absolutely necessary for a healthy mind and body in waking life.  When a person is deprived of sleep, the immune system becomes unable to perform these functions.  The negative effects become much more intense when people are already sick, injured, or traumatized.  Whatever bodily damage they have suffered will not heal as fast.  Whatever pain they are feeling will get worse.  Whatever new bodily damage threatens them will be harder to defend against.

Forcibly depriving a person of sleep is a profound assault on the entire biological system at the foundation of that person’s mind and body.

Some have argued that torture, although morally reprehensible, may in some cases be worth it if the information gained helps to save innocent American lives.

Again, that may or may not be true with other torture methods, but it is almost certainly false in cases using sleep deprivation.  One of the first symptoms of sleep deprivation in humans is a disordering of thought and bursts of irrationality.  Beyond 24 hours of deprivation people suffer huge drops in cognitive functions like accurate memory, coherent speech, and social competence. Eventually the victims suffer hallucinations and a total break with reality.

SOURCE: Excerpted from Why Sleep Deprivation is Torture  by Kelly Bulkeley Ph.D. Photograph courtesy clandestine organizational center, monarch programming undertaken late September 2016 Era Horrificus. In the image as depicted sleep deprivation and stress positions are applied with clandestine organization personnel hooded with hands suspended above head in correctional shackles so that subject is required to stand on the tip of the toes for prolonged periods of time as any relaxing of position will cause immediate pain and overtime permanent damage via the shackled wrists.

SHADOWS IN THE CORNERS AND WHISPERS ON THE STAIRS

calico

“All pain seemed to come with lots of blood, and lots of mental anguish, too. I already knew about that. Maybe that was the worst kind of pain, because nobody knew about it but you.”

“I lay so still in the gloom I could hear the house breathe, and the boards of the floors whispered, conniving a way to keep me here forever.”

“Shadows in the house put shadows in the mind.”

“What is normal? Normal is only ordinary; mediocre. Life belongs to the rare, exceptional individual who dares to be different.”

“There were shadows in the corners and whispers on the stairs and time was as irrelevant as honesty.”

SOURCE: My Sweet Audrina