I.
I started all of this
at the end of round one, before I learned that there is far more power in the
company of death rather than a futile struggle, day to day, clinging to the
fragile coils of life. It's a lie that rules over all of humanity as we cherish
and bow down to it, obsessed with prolonging our end. I was like everyone else
once, during my first chance that I pissed down the toilet over the course of
seventy years. Anyone who says they're not afraid of death --- that they're
"at peace," or that it's "their time to go" --- they're
lying.
But this is your
moment, when you have the opportunity to change and open your mind to something
different. There is real power to be gained, and I've made it very difficult
for those I've chosen to seek out this grimoire. This will be my final message
before the cogath.
There is nothing to
be afraid of if you are willing to learn.
I'm only different
than you because I've learned the truth. I've defected from the gruel and
grievous circle of lies, and entered the deceptively sweet embrace of death. My
second chance didn't come with exercise or good diets or vitamins. Life was a
monotonous letdown. The gift came to me, a very unworthy and clueless old
wretch, and it's a wonder at all that I discovered the blessings of death
before I tried to off myself. But that's not what happened.
This is about a lot
of things. It's about making all of you realize that you need to wake up.
You've forgotten what it means to survive. You devour gluttonous value
meals from drive throughs and fry your minds in front of digital displays for
hours and hours at a time, and every single facet of living has been spoonfed
to you from a silver bowl of shit. That's what I call this pathetic sideshow of
paychecks and miles per gallon and reform bills that inspire panic because
you're all going to lose pieces of paper from your wallets or digital ones and
zeroes inside bank computers that tell you how successful you are and whether
you can have a new Mercedes since your Lexus is over five years old.
Life is billioning
everywhere, but the real potential of the human race has wasted away slowly. So
this about a worldwide reminder. When the graveyards start erupting and soccer
moms are robbing their neighbor's house for a revolver, they will be reminded.
They will know what it means to deserve life, and they will pay an instant fine
for years of cheating death. They will go from being afraid of the internal
revenue service to being afraid of the mean alcoholic uncle they buried four
years ago when he shows up hungry at their front door. They'll be freezing and
diseased in forests and caves and fields, hunkered down and fearing sleep
without another breathing partner to keep watch.
The government will
call it bio-terrorism, the churches will call it the end of days, and the
Twitter addicts will try to popularize YODO instead of YOLO.
And still, they will
cling to the lie of life. Consider yourself fortunate.
You and I will call
it the cogath dar marbh. In English, it means war of the dead. It's from
the old tongue, when the Gaelic chomhairle tried in vain to do what I am about
to attempt. Their druid enemies stopped them.
It's been exactly one
thousand years since my ancestor failed the ritual. I stay in contact with him
on a regular basis. His favorite sacrifice is a twenty something redhead.
So this is about
making him proud, and giving back to my otherwordly community that has granted
me authority over life itself. It's about returning power with power in return,
quid pro quo.
Will you be one of
them, or will you accept my gift?
Before you go any
further, I would advise you to visit the cemetery of your family's legacy,
gather up the remains of your loved ones, and grant them peace from the impending
chaos.
Cremate them. Your
mother will thank you on the other side later.
II.
The first steps have
been taken. Let us take a moment to mourn your old existence, because it's only
natural to have those feelings. Kiss it goodbye.
It's been bred in to
you to chase these intangible and incessantly insane things called dreams. You
can do achieve anything if you work hard enough. This what you're told
when you're young, because we only have so much time on this earth, and the
people who think they have the power and the control know they have a
lot of money to make off you believing this. I worked hard for over thirty
years at a company I started myself, only to get backstabbed by my partner. I'm
a quadruple divorcee. I was depressed and eating valium because I made seven
figures instead of eight. This is what life and dreamchasing does to you.
The cost of what will
be required of you is astronomical. You think I don't know you, but I do. You
care about three things. Money, sex, and power. These three motivations rule
the world of the living. Some would attempt to question the big three, perhaps
bringing up futile concepts like love and goodness, but those people are
worthless to me. They won't be approached or instructed like you. You are
depraved like me. That's why you've been given the opportuntiy to learn.
Lesson number one.
Nothing comes without sacrifice. Absolutely nothing. This also proves true in
life, but death is a much more forgiving teacher. You've put in hard work to
get something you want out of life. Nice things, a pretty girlfriend, whatever.
What's valuable in life is not valuable in death.
There is no big
three. You will prosper through asking of what is required of you in the
nether. I am your instructor, but I don't hold you accountable. More about that
later.
For now, I need you
to forget about morals and right and wrong. You are going to kill people, but
in the process, you will make them something bigger than they could have ever
hoped to become in life. You will spill blood. You will cause suffering, and
you will love it.
Order number one. You
need a partner in crime, and I don't expect you to do this alone. As I said
before, death leaves you a lot of room for poetic license and creativity. You
need to find yourself a living, breathing thing that's not human. I used my
house pet and turned her in to vicious hell hound, but I leave the choice to
you. The first step to gaining potency in your rituals requires something to
keep watch over you as you commune with the dead. As you drift about the
nether, you will be protected from the raging spirits of old, but you will be
vulnerable in the real world.
What is left of the
Gaelic rituals can be found in the Munich manual of demonic magic. Nearly all
of the terms and superstitions outlined within it are inaccurate, but there are
detailed instructions for creating a familiar. Read it, create your circle, and
bleed out the old husk of your chosen animal.
When the last drop of
blood falls, you will witness the opening of the nether for the first time.
I will not be there
waiting for you, but rather, you will attune yourself and converse with the
first spirit drawn to the body of the animal. Do what it asks of you, no matter
what the request.
Should you succeed,
then I assure you that I will be aware of it.
III.
You've made quite an
interesting choice, my little necrolyte. I saw you, screaming and covered in
blood, with your circle crudely etched in the wood by a shaky hand.
Fortunately, a perfect circle wasn't required by the particular spirit who came
to you. I appointed it specifically to your induction due to its chaotic
tendencies. It felt the grave sense of terror in your gut with the bleeding fox
on your lap, and it was grateful to consume such a strongly human
emotion.
And you were grateful
to have it taken away from you. How does it feel, knowing that you will never
fall prey to fear again? It's been ages for me, but I've never forgotten
myself.
I watched the entire
ordeal. I saw your face contort with tears and regret, only to shift in one
glorious moment as you wrapped your clutches around the first hint of necropotence.
Your open, screaming mouth became a beautifully sadistic grin when the fox rose
again. From a pitiful, dying and broken thing to a stalwart guardian of your
legacy. How long that legacy persists is an entirely new question altogether.
Lesson number two.
The pleasures of the world are meaningless to you now. and so are the
consequences. Maybe you had thoughts of changing your appearance, of sucking
the life from someone you hate, only to change the circumstances of your mortal
life and get a second whirl at things. I don't blame you for these feelings at
all, for I must admit I fell victim to them at first. I murdered my boss and my
wife, I looked to be in my twenties, and my first inclination was to hit the
town and find a nice, lovely piece of college ass. But there are things you
don't realize.
Forget about your
"nether regions" and burying them in pussy, or painting the town red
and impressing people who don't matter by creating little green lights that
dance on the ends of your fingertips. You have a new center of pleasure now.
Remember that money and sex mean nothing, and when you bleed out your first
victim and make your first offer of blood, you will be filled with such
elation, with such physical pleasure, that you will forever regard humans as a
snack for your brethren across the veil. They have much greater things to offer
you in return for your service than a three second orgasm.
Forget about the
police or any fears of worldly justice. There is nothing capable of punishing
you except for what lies in the nether itself. Well .... and me, should you
fail miserably and waste my time so close to the hour of our war.
Order number two.
Your familiar is ready, but ninety percent of you is still pathetically human
and therefore very weak. You will have to create your own pumice stone for
mixing the blood of your offerings. To command the dead, they must respect you
as they respect me, which means you need to become as close to your master as
physically possible. Draining the blood of one will bring you a longer lifespan
and restore wrinkles, but draining the blood of ten at a time, mixing them in
to a grisly soup, and then offering it will allow you to learn new techniques
and rituals. There's more to being a necromancer than living forever and
drawing circles. You will learn to transform blood and bone in to shockwaves
that will bring buildings to rubble. You will learn how to enslave any living,
breathing thing indefinitely, so that it might do your bidding for eternity.
You will learn a great many things, but none of them will come to fruition
without a pumice stone.
Any solid object will
do. Mine was given to me by one of the last remaining chomhairle when I was a
child, crafted from a piece of stonehenge itself. It's important you understand
that the object itself is simply a medium. You don't need some special keepsake
like the pocket knife your grandfather gave you before he passed away. You can
use a roll of toilet paper if you'd like (although you may become the brunt of
many a sideways snicker at the hands of your necromantic brothers for doing
so).
When you've chosen
your object, create a new circle (which should look much better, considering
the excitement I feel in you, rather than fear and trepidation), and find your
first blood offering. It would accelerate your progress if you could select
someone particularly special to you, be that in a positive or negative way.
Very soon, your old girlfriend or your Monday night football buddy will become
fodder for the corpses, so in a way, should you slice up and bleed out someone
in your social circle, you are saving them from a much more grisly fate later.
You will carry them with you, and at times, you may hear their whispers and
screams from the object itself.
The choice is up to
you. Take them alive, and ensure that every last drop touches your pumice. It
will devour the blood like a rabid beast, and you will once again open the
nether.
Enjoy the flood of
youth and real power. This is your first kill, and it is your first step to
belonging with your prestigiously gruesome family of the macabre.
I will be watching.
<c>
( This is what I have that isn't being edited/changed at the moment, hope you enjoyed the opening hook, stay tuned. Thanks - VH)
