What am I saying, who would believe me anyway. Nobody probably reads this anyway. Why would you, you probably believe that I am insane, crazy, or both. You may even think I am a psychopath. I swear I’m not. I can tell you that I love people, I love interacting with people and I can’t handle what these screams and voices or doing to me. I hate it, I absolutely fucking hate it.
After interacting with Mark the other day and receiving his permission to post a piece he found (or wrote) on this blog. I thought I would return the favor and send him something I found the other night as I was sorting through some boxes from the attic. At first, I didn’t think anything of it. But revisiting it again has left me somewhat perplexed. Did one of my relatives actually have a page from the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis? Could she really raise a demon from the depths of the abyss? If true, that is incredible.
Shut up! Please, leave me alone. I can’t take it anymore. Please, someone, help me survive this torture.
Goodbye and Goodnight
An essay by Dr. Valencia Issacs as provided by Malachi Isaacs
What is happening to me? Where am I? The last thing I remember was standing over your wretched corpse, staring into the oblivion held deep within those desolate black eyes. I was lost in a swirling sea of emotions, contemplating the impossibilities that surrounded me. How could this be? How could I be standing here? Yesterday, you did not exist, yet today you breathe and feel. How can this be?
What was this place? The vile smell of death surrounded me, and the dampness stirred echoes of what once was. I was there before, in fact, I found you there in the depths. Your spiraling horns rose from the skull announcing your presence beneath the altar, your arms mirrored your 10 legs, your rotten grey flesh charred from years of exile. But, why was I there again? Will someone, or something, rise from the depths of the abyss to save you now that I have broken the covenant of light? Oh God, Lord, what have I done?
I had to get back; there is no way that you can exist on this plane. I must be dreaming because this nightmare cannot be real. You cannot be here. I knew what the book said, I knew about the dangers contained inside with the spells and the potions. I was so wrong; I should have never opened the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis. Those tainted pages are not meant for mortals.
Maybe I am dreaming; there is no way that I could have resurrected anything, yet alone, something so powerful. I hoped that was the case, for if I did accomplish this feat, the world could never know of your existence. Like the Nephilim before you, your history cannot be told. No one would understand the greatness that flows through your veins. The knowledge, the power, the wisdom, or the power of the scripture trapped inside this shard from the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, no one could ever know,
I see it so clear. As I moved toward your carcass, I could feel the dankness rouse every sense; it enlightened every nerve within my sinful body. Yet, something was much different this time. The air had changed, the atmosphere, everything. Oh God, what have I done? Shaking, I could not look behind the door; I feared what I would find. I wanted to move, but I was paralyzed. Yet, I could feel every sensation, every bit of tension that filled the dreary depths of the laboratory. Why was I there? What did I do?
I had to get back; there is no way that you can exist on this plane. I must be dreaming because this nightmare cannot be real. You cannot be here. I knew what the book said, I knew about the dangers contained inside with the spells and the potions. I was so wrong; I should have never opened the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis. Those tainted pages are not meant for mortals.
Maybe I am dreaming; there is no way that I could have resurrected anything, yet alone, something so powerful. I hoped that was the case, for if I did accomplish this feat, the world could never know of your existence. Like the Nephilim before you, your history cannot be told. No one would understand the greatness that flows through your veins. The knowledge, the power, the wisdom, or the power of the scripture trapped inside this shard from the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, no one could ever know,
I see it so clear. As I moved toward your carcass, I could feel the dankness rouse every sense; it enlightened every nerve within my sinful body. Yet, something was much different this time. The air had changed, the atmosphere, everything. Oh God, what have I done? Shaking, I could not look behind the door; I feared what I would find. I wanted to move, but I was paralyzed. Yet, I could feel every sensation, every bit of tension that filled the dreary depths of the laboratory. Why was I there? What did I do?
I could hear the chamber door squeal as I turned the knob; the sound drowned the thump of my faint heartbeats. My pulse quickened as I drew close to you. I could see your body, the grey tint of your flesh and all of your appendages frozen beneath the shroud. The foulness of your breath infested every step I took. You are real; you are alive.
I tried to move my head to follow every twitch, as I fumbled through my journal at the desk, but I could not concentrate. I was trapped there within this tomb and I could never leave. What have I done to deserve this? How can this be? I have run this experiment before with no success. Cats, dogs, even humans, and not even a quiver. Why you, why now?
As I looked through my journal, I was hypnotized by the words as I tried to decipher what I had done.
August 20,
The specimen is upon the table, his body unlike anything I have encountered in my years of study. Seven horns, 10 tentacle legs, 10 arms, is this some sort of demon from the depths of Hell?
I have the mixture ready. Three parts lilac, four parts Sodium phosphate monobasic dehydrate, one-quart placenta, and five parts basilisk blood boiled with the fat of a virgin goat. All I have to do is inject into the Pituitary Gland. If I am right, that will sit behind the fifth horn and beneath the left eye. According to the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, this should open the eye of Horus. Now the verse, and watch rebirth will begin.
October 7,
What have I done, all I wanted was to defeat God, for the torment has trapped me inside this prison. I wanted you, anything, to live and learn. Now, what am I to do, this secret can never get out? No one could ever understand this or accept you, whoever, I mean, whatever you are. A vat of emotions continues to swirl inside my mind. Questions abound. Why didn’t it work before? Why now, why you?
What did those words say? I have already checked the potion, nothing different than before. Could I have made a mistake in my reading of the verse? Where is my translation of the text, it should give me some insight.
Wait, no, it can’t be; I couldn’t have done that. No, no, it can’t be; I resurrected a demon. I knew you weren’t human, the scales and the placid flesh gave that away. But, a demon, how could that be? You were merely a legend. It has to be true though; there is no other way to explain when I have done. That has to be why it worked this time?
Oh God, what have I done? Why did you possess me with this passion for knowledge? Why did I want to create life from the slops of the forgotten? I thought that rescuing their soulless hosts from the depths of despair and breathing life into their forsaken hearts would set them free. Now, I am trapped within my personal inferno with one of the Legion.
I know what I have to do, I have to go back and see you; I have to look at what I have done. But, I know as I pull back that shroud, I will see a sparkle in the depths of your sunken black eyes. You can tell when I am there; you can feel me near. What am I going to do? There is no way that I can allow you to survive. Still, I crave something more and these voices are telling me to stop.
After all, of my work and all of the experiments, the fact that I have to rid the world of your presence sickens me. Even if you are a demon, this is what I have longed for. You are the answer to my prayers and the answers that I have sought out for so long. I can’t do it, no, for the wisdom you may harbor could change history. Yes, yes, I realize now as I sit here that your depraved exterior will never be accepted in our society that is entombed within haze of intolerance. They could never understand that what lies beneath ones skin outweighs the disgust of ones mutilated appearance.
What am I to do? I know how ghastly you look; I know you could never stand a chance outside in this cruel world. The thick scars from your decayed flesh mar your pale face. The anemic dead hands protruding from every tentacle, absolutely everything about you is horrifying. Well, not everything. Your eyes, your eyes are majestic, as dark as the blackest hole in the universe. They are truly your best feature, and I know that they are the only true doorways into your soul.
I want you to talk to me, to tell me what you are thinking. How can I snuff out your final breath when you deserve so much more than this? I will have to plan for it, for I know that I could never undertake such actions alone; especially if I have to again gaze upon your genius paralyzed upon my altar. If I look at you, I know that your brilliant eyes will betray your emotions, and in turn, my loins will call for you.
When I gave you life from the remains in the garden, I not only resuscitated a mystery, I shaped a companion. No, I cannot do it. No matter how horrible you look on the outside or whatever your history holds or depraved your evil, I cannot destroy you. I will not, I can’t do it!
Unfortunately, I know I must. I could not live with myself if you escaped my lair, or harmed an innocent, as hard as this will be; this is something I have to do. My scalpel is near; I know I must take my final steps toward my destiny. I have waited too long already. Yes, at last, the unknown is known, and the truths held within this tome can become reality. But, is the emptiness created from these deeds worth the sadness that will rise from the immoral?
I know that in a few minutes, my heart will again cry for affection. I know now that I am indeed the monster and can never share the companionship that I desire. At least for a moment, I had you in my life and I felt complete. Remember me, not as the murderer I am about to become, but as the soul that you enlightened with your presence.
I am so sorry, for I know that I cannot hide in my journal and I must face you once again. As I gave you life, I will seal your fate with my blade, not because you are a hideous monster, but because you were never meant to walk among us. Goodbye and good night.
I tried to move my head to follow every twitch, as I fumbled through my journal at the desk, but I could not concentrate. I was trapped there within this tomb and I could never leave. What have I done to deserve this? How can this be? I have run this experiment before with no success. Cats, dogs, even humans, and not even a quiver. Why you, why now?
As I looked through my journal, I was hypnotized by the words as I tried to decipher what I had done.
August 20,
The specimen is upon the table, his body unlike anything I have encountered in my years of study. Seven horns, 10 tentacle legs, 10 arms, is this some sort of demon from the depths of Hell?
I have the mixture ready. Three parts lilac, four parts Sodium phosphate monobasic dehydrate, one-quart placenta, and five parts basilisk blood boiled with the fat of a virgin goat. All I have to do is inject into the Pituitary Gland. If I am right, that will sit behind the fifth horn and beneath the left eye. According to the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, this should open the eye of Horus. Now the verse, and watch rebirth will begin.
Sub luce in manibus
Timor non-sunt Daemonum, ET nos de somno surgere;
Nam per haec elementa tuus animam lucere faciet
et homo in medio tui et ambules
What have I done, all I wanted was to defeat God, for the torment has trapped me inside this prison. I wanted you, anything, to live and learn. Now, what am I to do, this secret can never get out? No one could ever understand this or accept you, whoever, I mean, whatever you are. A vat of emotions continues to swirl inside my mind. Questions abound. Why didn’t it work before? Why now, why you?
What did those words say? I have already checked the potion, nothing different than before. Could I have made a mistake in my reading of the verse? Where is my translation of the text, it should give me some insight.
Beneath these hands and within the light
Fear not demon, and rise from your slumber,
For through these elements, your soul shall shine
And you shall walk among man.
Wait, no, it can’t be; I couldn’t have done that. No, no, it can’t be; I resurrected a demon. I knew you weren’t human, the scales and the placid flesh gave that away. But, a demon, how could that be? You were merely a legend. It has to be true though; there is no other way to explain when I have done. That has to be why it worked this time?
Oh God, what have I done? Why did you possess me with this passion for knowledge? Why did I want to create life from the slops of the forgotten? I thought that rescuing their soulless hosts from the depths of despair and breathing life into their forsaken hearts would set them free. Now, I am trapped within my personal inferno with one of the Legion.
I know what I have to do, I have to go back and see you; I have to look at what I have done. But, I know as I pull back that shroud, I will see a sparkle in the depths of your sunken black eyes. You can tell when I am there; you can feel me near. What am I going to do? There is no way that I can allow you to survive. Still, I crave something more and these voices are telling me to stop.
After all, of my work and all of the experiments, the fact that I have to rid the world of your presence sickens me. Even if you are a demon, this is what I have longed for. You are the answer to my prayers and the answers that I have sought out for so long. I can’t do it, no, for the wisdom you may harbor could change history. Yes, yes, I realize now as I sit here that your depraved exterior will never be accepted in our society that is entombed within haze of intolerance. They could never understand that what lies beneath ones skin outweighs the disgust of ones mutilated appearance.
What am I to do? I know how ghastly you look; I know you could never stand a chance outside in this cruel world. The thick scars from your decayed flesh mar your pale face. The anemic dead hands protruding from every tentacle, absolutely everything about you is horrifying. Well, not everything. Your eyes, your eyes are majestic, as dark as the blackest hole in the universe. They are truly your best feature, and I know that they are the only true doorways into your soul.
I want you to talk to me, to tell me what you are thinking. How can I snuff out your final breath when you deserve so much more than this? I will have to plan for it, for I know that I could never undertake such actions alone; especially if I have to again gaze upon your genius paralyzed upon my altar. If I look at you, I know that your brilliant eyes will betray your emotions, and in turn, my loins will call for you.
When I gave you life from the remains in the garden, I not only resuscitated a mystery, I shaped a companion. No, I cannot do it. No matter how horrible you look on the outside or whatever your history holds or depraved your evil, I cannot destroy you. I will not, I can’t do it!
Unfortunately, I know I must. I could not live with myself if you escaped my lair, or harmed an innocent, as hard as this will be; this is something I have to do. My scalpel is near; I know I must take my final steps toward my destiny. I have waited too long already. Yes, at last, the unknown is known, and the truths held within this tome can become reality. But, is the emptiness created from these deeds worth the sadness that will rise from the immoral?
I know that in a few minutes, my heart will again cry for affection. I know now that I am indeed the monster and can never share the companionship that I desire. At least for a moment, I had you in my life and I felt complete. Remember me, not as the murderer I am about to become, but as the soul that you enlightened with your presence.
I am so sorry, for I know that I cannot hide in my journal and I must face you once again. As I gave you life, I will seal your fate with my blade, not because you are a hideous monster, but because you were never meant to walk among us. Goodbye and good night.
No comments:
Post a Comment