My childhood was mostly a silent one. I didn't talk much. Words and worlds played through my head in daydreams, and no-one saw those white unicorns deep in the forest, the dragons sleeping under the earth in underground caves, or the goblins II quick for old eyes darting around the house and the garden...But I did. I didn't need to see them to know they were there. All the magickal places I had read about in books, I knew they were out there somewhere...The Faraway Tree, Never-Never Land, Oz, & later on as I developed an interest for 'local' myths, Atlantis, all just beyond my young horizon, but definitely there. I must have read every book in the house at least three times, because there was alwayz something new to discover: more knowledge, a fresh vision that I hadn't seen before with my mindz eyes because I had been so absorbed with the story. I once read a humourous and almost profound concept by the author of the Discworld series, Terry Pratchett. It was called L-Space I think, inside his world a phenomena existed that stated all books were contained inside one another, that every book past present and future contained every other book ever written or ever to be writ. I found that II be somewhat disturbing...because it might possibly be true. I think that inside this world, lies every other world ever imagined and ever to be... a Heaven, a Hell, Elemental planes for fire, water, earth and air, etc.This might sound fanciful, but I have a theory, and that is never to discount other theories...these worlds you cannot see, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. Imagine then, walking down your home street and knowing your house will be around the next corner, do you know itz there because you can feel it? That is the way I sense many of the thingz I believe... The question is, what is it I believe? & thatz a very good question...maybe it should be answered with an equally good question, like what does it mean to believe? - I have alwayz had my own personal beliefs that I cannot explain, they just ARE. And like a crow collecting shiny treasures, I steal from other beliefs and cultures to en-lighten, en-richen, further, and create my own. I have read books on ancient cultures, history, and philosophy, hoping to someday find a key that would unlock all the mysteries of the world around me. Although now I know this would be a thankless task, because this world NEEDS mystery. It thrives on it, breathes it...and without it, would die...
As someone young, I was susceptible to suggested beliefs. I would not say my upbringing was Christian, but my first memories of religion, are of attending Sunday School at the age of 5. It was a nice place but cold. People sang about the 'Lord' and laughed a lot. I don't really remember much else, except that there were a lot of kids there & I made a Paddington Bear sculpture out of plaster of paris. Sometime after that my memory goes black and I can't remember what happened. School was where I first learned of Jesus Christ. I remember only fragments of stories about Jesus, there was a story time before school started, and this guy would read passages from a Bible to the class. He confided to us about how he was in a gang, and that Christ had saved him. There were countless times I looked at the colourful pictures in his Bible, and wished I was a Christian. My family were Christians for a time, what i colorfully refer to now as 'Christ junkies'. They wrote I Love Jesus all over their belongingz and school bookz, prayed every night, sang hymms and praised Jesus. Something I never saw the point in. Something happened though...So seeing my sister and her friend rejoicing in the Lord, it came to pass that the subject of speaking in tongues was brought up. On a whim I stood in the center of the room muttering and speaking scrambled nonsense to them.I don't know why I did it, but a truth hit home...something was wrong with this, they truly believed I was talking tongues and they jumped about on their beds screaming hallelujuh or something to that effect. I questioned the integrity of their 'faith'. Even as a kid I knew some thingz weren't right. To see what it was all about I began reading the Bible. I don't know what edition, Old, New, just the Bible. I must have been reading it for months.If I skipped a page, I felt guilty and re-read the entire chapter. It felt like I had to do it right, but I didn't know why. Eventually, after many many psalms and miracles, I ventured into Revelations. Revelations...was the beginning of a momentous new path for me...It was here I met Satan. In all his magnificence God never seemed to have the same glory or lure as Satan. God had Heaven, a place of white, purity, and angels, while Satan possessed Hell, a fiery place of black, evil, and demons. Although at the time I believed I wanted to go to Heaven, nothing could stop me from being spellbound by visions of the great beast with ten horns arising from the depths of some bottomless cataclysm to destroy everything in itz path. The sheer force with which Satan entered my world, was the same way through which It would leave it. It left its mark on my curious but innocent soul. Soon after I finished the Bible, I had begun II draw. I had seen thingz in my dreams and visions in my head were coming alive and I had to release them. I have a lot of love for naturally beautiful thingz, clouds, the sun, stars, storms, rainbows, stones, shapes, colours...etc. & I drew them into the drawings I had made from the visions in my head. It was not long before my artwork improved to a considerable degree, still at the age of 10, I painted something that was to pave the way for a new direction, a 3 page painting of a black horned shape with fire all around it. I told my mother it was The Devil. Immediately she got angry, telling me to burn it, that is was evil, and I would bring harm to the house. I had worked hard on it though, and was very reluctant to part with it, and couldn't understand what I had done. Instead of destroying it, I secretly took it under the house to my cubbyhouse and pinned it on the roof. Minutes later it seemed, my mother came out and asked me if id gotten rid of it, Either I said yes or I said no, I can't remember, but she saw it and started yelling at me. I gave her the picture and I never saw the picture again. I don't know what she did with it...but it got me thinking later on in life when I was studying superstition. But it was the beginning of a downward spiral, I found myself drawn to books on ghosts, witches, and magic. (I mean sleight of hand, not magicK) All I ever seemed to read was books like those, but eventually after readingeverything the library had, I returned to more practical books like Roald Dahl & C.S.White who fascinated me just as much. But I think I'm slipping...I'll jump ahead and leave that tangled mess behind where it belongs, in the Past.
Do you want to know why I am the way I am? I will tell you. After I turned 12, I was again into God, as a belief system...I was not obeying his laws, or reading the Bible, but I did turn to him for help, and only when I really needed it. 8 years ago my friend Simon came to school crying. No-one could get near him and if they tried he told them to 'piss off'. I must have a gift, it seems I can get near anybody...I asked Simon what was wrong and if I could help, he kept crying, and through his tears he told me his dad was dying, diagnosed with cancer, and told he had only 3 weeks to live. I was shaken, and knowing I couldn't do anything to help or console him only made thingz worse...still, I did the only thing I could. I told Simon I would pray to God for him, that God would make it all right, and then I left. - That night for the first time in my life, I asked God for help. I rolled onto my stomach and clasped my hands together...I didn't know what words to speak or whether to actually speak the words or just to think them, but I figured from the power that God held, he already knew what I was going to say and I just had to say it. These were not my exact words, but they are close enough: "God, my name is ****, I'm sure you already know who I am, and that I need your help. Simon's dad is dying, and Simon is upset. I am only young God, I don't know what I can offer you that you don't have already because you have everything, but I ask you to save Simons dad. In exchange, you can have my life God. Please save him, I know you can do it. & I'll be yours God, I promise. Thankyou." - I said goodnight and amen...then I went II sleep. I think. What I am about to tell you may seem impossible, and it's only because my convictions that this happened are so strong that I am not ashamed to share it. Later that night, I woke up. It was a dark night, & I don't know what time it was. Looking straight ahead at the foot of my bed I saw an oval shaped blue-white light with a face in it. It looked just like the faces in the pictures. The face was an old man at first, then a young boy, and a baby...and it was smiling. In an instant I knew it was God. It was a very bright light, but the room wasn't lit up, just him. After a while I got out of bed. I walked over to the bedroom door thinking it might just be the neighbours lights and shut it. It had no effect on the light. I walked around the light and went over to the windows. The curtains were open and I waved my hand over and around the edges but still the light didn't move or change. I shut the curtains, and it was still there. As I looked at the light the most incredible peace came over me & even though I was terrified, I went back to bed and back to sleep. In the morning I had completely forgotten about it. Until, a few weeks later, Simon's father passed away in his sleep. When that happened, Something, something very powerful grew inside me...It was the feeling I had been rejected. I had offered God everything I had to give, and still he had let this man die. I felt so helpless, and so incredibly fucking angry too for what was I worth to God? The Creator who was supposed to listen to me, be there for me, help me, (according to the Bible) apparently not much... - That night, I prayed to God again (and it was not the final time). This time I cursed him for what he had done, I told him that I had offered him all I had, but if that wasn't enough and if he wouldn't listen, then perhaps his enemy would. I ended the conversation with a "fuck you" and the same night I prayed to Satan. I told him what had happened, that I had been ignored. I avowed to him that I would follow him if he would have me and asked him to teach me. I also asked for something as proof of our pact, and he gave it to me. I asked for 'rage'. & When I awoke, I felt it inside me, an intense and implacable hatred for being cast aside. The irrational malice I display when dealing with Christians, is I'm sure, that gift of pure Satan. From then on...I sought anything I could find on the Devil, & after learning that the pentagram was popularly associated with Satan I began drawing pentagrams on everything. It was not until I started college that I really came into my element...Up until now I had been struggling to comprehend all these events with my limited grasp of the ramifications, but at the age of 14-15 I began to realize just exactly what was happening, and I liked it. The college had a massive library and I found endless information on witchcraft, satan, and black magick. However I came to realize that these were just commercial books, sensationalized reading with no real truth or mentor and had no real value to me and my vow and I needed to find darker and deadlier thingz. I discovered voodoo dolls, rituals, curses, symbols, and divination, all these things are good in theory but still I needed some actual experience with them...it was about that time I discovered Ouija boards. I have done a lot of ouija sessions in my time, maybe 50 or so...It may not seem like many, but my success with it bought results. Strange thingz alwayz seemed to happen when I did them, and when they became common at parties I kept getting asked to put my finger on the glass at parties when a board was being used...It wasn't long after this that I learned the trick of moving the glass :) - but also that others were moving it to...and this is when it lost its original magic element and became more of a psychological game of fear to fuck with others heads, and use their own superstition and fear against them (A less known powerful form of magick). People were often accused of moving the glass but there was an inate belief among themselves that it was happening for real. I would spell out the names of my friends as some sort of malicious glee...to watch them freak out was priceless and at the same time empowering. Once I thought of ouija boards as a mystic gateway to the realm of spirits, a diluted form of lesser necromancy, but now I think of them as pretty playthingz and just another unnecessary tool. I would like you to note that I may appear sceptical of my arts and this is true, because only through applying science to magick could I eliminate dogma and fancy from the true nature of it. I have seen some remarkable thingz while using such a board, I reason it must have been our collective unconscious energies, manipulating and manifesting such events whether by fear or peer pressure to belong, not a spiritual event. But I never discount any theory. It's not necessary to use a ouija board to contact the dead, you can contact anything if you know itz design and try hard enough. I made a few ouija boards when I was into it and alwayz did it under the mind that spirits liked the elaborate and illustrious rather than the plain and simple. Not so, demons do not care about the outer shape of something, it is the Inner nature they are attracted to. However, I would begin my board with the necessary elements and first write place the letters of the alphabet around its edge in styled script. After this in great detail I placed runic lettered bindings around the edge to protect anyone using the board from malefic spirits. The sigils of the four horsemen in the corners to entice the necessary aura, the four elements fire earth water and air for the purpose of the spirit to explain what element had caused its death, the four directions North, East, South, West, the necessary yes, no, goodbye and the question mark. Finally I wrote kabalistic names of spirits associated with protection, sun and light. In the center I drew an image of Satan, a large brooding goat in the form of a pentagram. There are a number of times I used my boards to terrifying effect whether by a manipulation of superstition to freak my friends out or actual intention to summon an entity, I enjoyed various success. In 1996 in the evening some friends and I were using the board down at our local hang-out, the bridge. With this particular board I had a piece of plexiglass shaped like a pentacle instead of a glass. It was about 9:00pm, we had just taken off from G's place with his car and JJ suggested we do a 'séance' which is what most people I knew called a ouija board session. I agreed and we pulled up into a small flat area between two large trees and parked. G set the car headlights to face us and illuminate the area while we used it, and I began to light the 5 small candles and place them on the board. After a few laughs and a cigarette we sat down around the board, each of us in a different direction. We each put a finger on the pentacle and took turns asking for something to talk to us. JJ, D, and G didn't seem to get results and accused each other of moving the glass. But when I took my turn by coincidence the wind started up, which was enough to make them uncomfortable, I continued by asking for my ancestors to come. After a while all hell broke loose. The plexiglass began moving around on the board and we all looked at each other. Nobody was smiling. Even in times as tense as this my humour came out to play. I told the guys I had summoned one of my ancestors, a witch burned at the stake named Xavier, and that he was 'coming through' and that I was desperately trying to stop him by means of an invocation. Jj and D were terrified and suddenly jumped up waving their arms and yelling about how there were shadows in the trees behind us, which made G shit himself and make a hurried attempt to star his car. Incidentally it wouldn't start. I continued with my 'invocation' while Jj and D panicked and begged me to leave it alone. There were two things that made me do so. One. When I looked behind me I could also see a number of tall shadows flitting quickly among the tree's and they had horns. Two. The plexiglass pentacle now had a bubble inside it. Not sure what was going on I blew out the candles, put the pentacle in my pocket, threw the ouija board under my arm, and jumped inside the car where G was now cursing and swearing because his car wouldn't start. Eventually though, it did start and we drove off towardz Riverhead Forest. We talked about what had happened but not for very long. I still don't know, was it real or something akin to mass hysteria / hypnotism? There was another time, earlier than that one, I should have mentioned it first because it was my first experience with the ouija. My mother often used to use one on occasion. During one night I watched her set one up with scrabble letters and a glass. By candlelight she talked for a while and asked questions to the board and I watched in absolute fascination as the glass moved from letter to letter. At some point my mother terrified me by telling me how dangerous this was and that sometimes the spirits got angry (poltergiests) and that I should never do what she was doing. She said sometimes the spirits threw the glass across the room, but not this time… About half an hour into the whole process I was asked to go get a can of coke from the fridge. I went to the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a can. The second I opened it it began fizzing like a can that has been shaken but instead of the coke running down the sides, it flew straight up onto the ceiling and it stayed there, like a big shimmering puddle, then a few seconds later it came crashing down. Actually, I don't know how my mother made the transformation from using ouija to being scared of my drawing of Satan, and I never cared to ask. There was so much I wanted to know concerning the occult. I had an insatiable appetite for knowledge and after a while, realized I was learning so much, I needed somewhere other than my head to keep all the information. This realization led to the construction of my first book of shadows. A very crude 16 pages of scribbles, I LOVE SATAN, and a few things that I drew to resemble rituals I had seen in books. As I left the dabbler stage and seriously studied Satan and the Occult, my book gradually improved and I updated it several times, edition by edition.The second one had parts of the scripture of revelations in it, and some curses I had found. By the third book, I had begun numbering the pages, and illustrating each page with a variety of diabolic images and designs. Every time I found enough information on another subject I would add it to the book. The Evil eye, candle magick and numerology each had a chapter. Various pages were given to a list of satans names, pictures of burning witches, and symbols such as the inverted cross became commonplace... - I kept the book secret from all but my closest friends, disguising it as a cassette tape, or hiding it inside another book I had hollowed out. The copies I made were not always destroyed but given to people I knew, So somewhere someone still has the few surviving pieces of proof of my accomplishment. The final book, was almost completed by me in 1999 after an 8 year project I started at 12. It largely took over my life and became an obsession, a thirst I just couldn't quench. At the age of 19 I had a masterpiece of such exquisite construction and was actually sharing with some of my friends how to do various magickal rituals, such as bindingz and dolls. At the last count my book (which was actually 3 books) was over 600 pages. From memory here is the contents of the first book - On the inside cover was an inscription - Do you know who we are? Do you know what we can do? That's why we don't do it, because we know who we are. Child-o-Satan. In roman numerals I wrote a table of contents, I - Demonicanum. II - Diablous Numalika. III - The Order of the Fall. IV - Magickal Languages. V - Magickal Tools. VI - The Names of Satan. VII - Baphomet. VIII - The Necronomicon. IX - Order of the Spheres. X - Hell (Dante's). XI - Hell (a dream). XII - Heaven. XII - The Four Horsemen and the Apocalypse. XIII - The Black Image. XIV - Runes and Runic Bindings. XV - Sympathetic Magick. XVI - Hells Heirachy. XVII - The 21 Satanic Statements. XVIII - The 9 Cardinal Sins of Satanism. XIX - Contact Addresses for the Satanic Church and the Satanic Bible. XX - Curse Magick. XXI - Pacts Expressum / Tacitum. XXII - Signs and Seals. XXIII - The Black Mass. XXIV - Numerology. XXV - Candle Magick and Colour Correspondance. XXVI - Types of Satanists. In fact anything attributed in any way to Satan was inside. The last part of the book, was devoted to the mythos Necronomicon Ex Mortis. In that last book I had the tried to reconstruct the entire mythos with the writingz of the mad arab, the hours, stars, signs, names, and manifestations of the cthuluian horrors known as the Old Spirits, and drawings of the nature of the demons described. From the Internet I obtained the Gateway ritual of Yog-Sotthoth, and then sought out all the neccesary elements needed to open it. I learned the language was an enochian evocation, and found a site explaining the pronunciation of the evocation, the signs that I needed, such as the sign of silence, banishings, and even a Christian exorcism. For it is said only the power of Jesus Christ can afford protection against such entities, and even then, not forever.
My purpose was as crazy as it soundz, my rage for our race was very dark...& I sought out the Necronomicon to test its power and to attempt to bring about our destruction. Although a number of ones claimed they had read the Necronomicon, I never found such a book, only fragments of curious and puzzling text. Enochian magick was everywhere, but also, VERY complex...Maybe I would have succeeded in Opening the realm to Yog-sotthoth if I had known what the hour of the moon was, a finer grasp of astronomy, or been able to find a ruby the size of my fist. Yet despite my curiosity I wasn't able to use the evocation and settled for the knowledge of the legends. All these thingz hold a great fascination for me, but like many of you have guessed and would well know, fucking with this kind of phenomenon is not without it's price. In fact to accept that a world is possible where ghosts and goblins exist is a very un-social view and I have lost many friends because of protective parents. I have paid the price for wonder many times, but as the ancient samurai adage goes, "What doesn't kill you, only makes you stronger". Dealing with this kind of perspective put me on the brink. Sometimes I have tried to hurt others with my knowledge, through revenge, anger, or experiment I have hurt my fellow brethren, and not alwayz through magick but violence. A few years ago, Satan was not my only black mentor. Up until now I have left out a vital part of my experience with the Occult, and it begins with the telling of this dream. It would seem everything is backward in my world, even my memories. When I was only young, maybe 5, I began having a recurring nightmare that continued to haunt me for years to come. In this nightmare, there was a landscape with a shed on it...well, actually the shed was IN it...I had never seen either before, and didn't know why I kept dreaming it over and over again. It was a non-walled shed, on 6 solid wooden poles, half sunk into the ground. Always it was the same shed, but often the landscape would change...to night time, or rain. One time there was a road leading away from the shed and I followed it to the top of the hill where there was a museum with great stone doors. As I tried to open the doors, I became aware of a great and terrifying number of spiders crawling on it, then on me. I was so terrified I woke up covered in sweat. Anyway - the dream continued to come right up until the age of 12. That was when something very strange happened to me. My mother and her boyfriend took a drive out to a place in New Zealand called Kumeu. It's out in the country, a rural type place. As we rounded a corner, my heart stopped still. On the left side of the road, near a grassy hill, half set into the ground, was the very same shed I had been having visions of all that time. I felt an uneasiness in my stomach, as I told myself that this was impossible, you don't dream things and then see them for real. Or do you? It was one helluva Deja Vu experience. I've never had another one like it. After I saw the shed, the reoccurring dream changed... - This new dream changed my life and my perceptions of the world forever. It began with another landscape. In this new landscape, the sky is pink & the ground is black and charred and cracked, from the result of either a fire or a drought. Next to a large burned tree, I look into the distance at a black castle on the distant horizon. The castle is on fire, and I can hear blood-curdling screams come from inside. As the flames burn, the walls of the castle drip blood. A man, an old man, stands next to me, he seems to have come from nowhere. I sense him smiling at me, but I cannot see his face. The old man is dressed in a black robe. He hands me an identical robe and I put it on. Then, taking my hand he leads me to the base of the tree and down a hidden staircase of stone steps. I follow him until we emerge into an incredibly large cavern. The cavern is lit with some kind of red glow, but I can't tell where it's coming from. In the middle of the cavern is a large metal cauldron. The old man walks around to the other side of it and as I step up to it myself, he beckons to me and I look into it. The surface of the cauldron's water is swimming with visions. In a vision I see a ring. The ring is that of a skull wearing an indian headdress, and has 2 small blood coloured rubies for eyes. Suddenly something tears me away from my trance, it is the old man, he is changing. He growz tall & his eyes become dark hollow elongated pits, his hands and features melt and lose shape, as a 13ft crow-faced spectre, steps out of the old mans skin. It speaks, and it is not a voice I hear, but a raspy kind of telepathy. "I am Judas! To hear my tone is to rejoice in an eternity of razor blades ripping through a sea of flesh. To meet my gaze is to begin your descent into madness. To reckon my power is to challenge the might of Satan and all the dark enthronement of Hell. I am the manifestation of sorrow, and the harbringer of malice. I am Judas!" It then beckons for me to look again into the cauldron. This time, I see myself...but what a strange self I see. I see my past, my present and my future all at once, I am young, old, ancient, I am flying, dying, and have powers of telepathy, telekinesis, and E.s.p. I gaze into the cauldron and I hear Judas speak again… "All these gifts can be yours. If you free me". He then leans over and stares at me, those pitiless malicious empty eyes, freezing my very heart in fear so much so, I wake up. - The next day in the right hand side of my top drawer, I found the ring. I wore that ring until I was about 18 and then I lost it. I was sure I took it off and placed it beside me but it was gone the next morning. The dream was always exactly the same except in each dream I was offered a new gift. The dreams continued, always with Judas asking me to free him. Eventually I agreed. In my next dream I freed Judas by enacting a ritual he showed me. Somehow, I released it from my dreams and into my life. In the morning, things seemed different, darker. I could feel a presence in my room, a very real and scary one. And voices in my head 'spoke' to me, telling me that it was of the rank Judas, and its name was Sepniphar. I don't know whether Judas was a real or imagined entity, even brought on by my own frustrated subconscious and manifested via my own belief. If so, then what of the acts of Judas, were they telekinesis? Whatever, it was very real to me. It told me it was my familiar, my 'guardian spirit' and it would watch and protect me from harm. It began to teach me things to. In my sleep and in real life. It told me what books to read and how to find them, and also to begin my own book. If I imagined it, what about the other people who saw him yet I had never learned my secret? - CONTINUED...
Return II Azazaelzpagez
Continue II page 2
