Spree

I came to them willingly. Ready to offer myself to whatever deity they claim as their salvation. I entered their circle with perfect trust, no ties to the outside world. I bid my farewell to the few who knew me long before I stepped foot at their doorstep. There was nothing for me in this world. Nothing but constant disappointments and false hope. I could no longer bare the weight of despair. My longing to break free from my prison led me to them. They found me at the right time, in the right place.

They welcomed me with open arms. Sheltered me from the cold. Fed me until I could no more and clothed me in fine silk. They showered me with lavish privileges I could only dream of. They opened a whole new world for me to indulge. They adopted me as their own with no prejudice. Only they could see right through me. I could not hide the heaviness I carried from them. They wanted nothing more than to end my suffering. They delivered what I prayed to God every night. I need only to ask.

And so I came to them willingly. Ready to set sail on my eternal journey to the abyss. I was ready to go gentle into that goodnight. This world had nothing more to offer me, nothing good at least. For far too long did I tolerate vile and unholiness of the world. I could no longer fake another smile. Greet ungrateful energies, let alone shake their hand. I was sick of the world and the beings it produced. I was mad at God for bringing me bad energies and cruel people. Night after night I asked, “Why must you bring me these kind of children?”

“When will my tribe find me?” I asked and I prayed but God remained silent. Year after year I stood watching dreams come true. All but my own. Night after night, I lay in bed asking until I found myself empty and hollow. I sat in the dark with a blade to my skin. It’s tip dug into my flesh but no blood poured. I lacked courage but the will was there. Calling every night. Begging to cross that bridge. Yearning to be free from the torment my mind clung to year after year. In the depths of my despair, they found me.

They need not say a word for they knew. They could read my mind, feel the pain in my eyes. They embraced me, not because I was broken but because I was one of them; returning home from a long journey. They need not doubt my decision or distract me from making another. They simply prepared the feast for the celebration we would soon partake. Together we prepared ourselves to meet with God. We dined, we praised. We rejoiced in the daylight. We sang with the birds and the creatures of the forest.

I sat beside our Father, our brothers and sisters before us. Our God stood above us all, watching. We ate and danced. Our song echoed in the trees. We celebrated not my death but my union back to the source. I was ready. I am ready to leave the world behind. To enter the abyss. Disperse into tiny pieces of space dust and fuse back with nature. My time could not come any sooner. I looked around me one last time. Felt the warmth emitting from the sun. I took one last breath and whispered, “Goodbye.”

The other side had more to offer than what the physical world has given me. There is more I could do over there than what I can accomplish here on Earth. No beauty held in comparison than what the other side bares. I would know for I had witness it before. They say once you have crossed over (and come back) you’ll never want to leave. Could be why I crave to end the life I was given. Maybe I’m far too gone to be repaired. Only they welcomed me as is. They sought not to change me but to free me.

Thus as night fell, I offered myself to them willingly. With perfect trust I gave myself to God. I stood before my brothers and sisters ready for Father to free me from my body. With an audience from God, Father spoke to us. He spoke of love and freedom. Touched our hearts with kind words and moving metaphors. Together we reminisced of how cruel this world can be and what wonders we can conjure. Father praised my bravery. I closed my eyes one last time and prepared myself to feel Father’s sacred blade on my neck. My time could not come any sooner.

A gentle breeze swooned by us. Echoes in the night rippled all around. With my adopted family before me I waited for Father to do his part. As the moment for my end to come lingered, a slight heaviness weighed on my head. A crown made of gems and crystals sparkled above me. I looked beside me and noticed Father praising. I stood dumbfounded. “Father?” I asked not sure of what to say. Was I not meeting my end tonight? Is this part of the process? I cared not for answers. I simply wanted to not exist.

My brothers and sisters praised along side Father. Their cheers rang like ceremonial bells chiming a new dawn. A new beginning. As twilight broke in the distance Father beamed, “My brave son.” He embraced me tightly. His love everlasting. “We have chosen you to guide, to lead, us to a new chapter. We have elected you as our supreme to be the next heir to this tired world.” I knew nothing of what he spoke. I looked around and suddenly felt surrounded. “For you see,” Father continued, “We will be the awakening.”

“We will blast God’s trumpet throughout the world with the screams of those who remain silent.” Father spoke of a deed I knew nothing about. I wanted to run but I was surrounded. “We will begin his rein by awakening man’s true nature.” Our brothers and sisters praised. Their chants rang like sirens. “We are the cause that ricochets a global awareness. Those who remain, or chose to remain, dormant will no longer have a shadow to seek shelter. This world has been asleep for far too long.” Father paused, “No more!”

“Out from the ashes,” Father now addressed me, “We rise with you as our supreme.”

“Have you deceived me Father?” I asked. “Am I to prolong my death once more? Am I to continue this agony?” My eyes swelled with tears. I was ready. I am ready. “I don’t want to be a part of no one’s agenda. Not Gods, not Satan. I just want to disappear into the abyss and never exist.” I backed away but Father held my hand. He was gentle and kind and caring. My brothers and sisters continued their praise. Their hands stretched into the heavens. Their choir expanding into the universe.

“I would never deceive you my son.” Father answered. “I have come to know your heart and your mind. Your spirit and your divine.” He held me in his arms. “You have been blessed beyond our understanding. It is you we have prayed for. You are everything we ever wanted and more. God has delivered us our prayer in you, my boy. That is why we unanimously elected you to lead our brigade.” We were now face to face. “You will lead us all into a brave new world.” We stood before our brothers and sisters praising the heavens and the hell we were to unleash.

Unbeknownst to me, I was crowned a leader to people I never knew existed. Beyond my brothers and sisters, I were to rule a world prime for harvest. Strangers far and wide would come to me for advise. Seek my presence and value my every word. I’m not sure what exactly Father saw in me but for some reason I was everything they were missing. All along I thought I found a cult willing to accept me as their sacrifice to please their deity. Here I was thinking my newly found family would be so eager to send me off as a gift to their God. How foolish of me to think escaping the human experience would be easy.

I wanted to return their wonderful gifts. To respectfully decline their offer but how could I? As much as I tried I could not say no. My fate was sealed the moment I stepped foot at their doorstep. I wanted a meaningful way out and in return I was given the role of a supreme. I reminisced the countless nights I spent with Father and how I expressed my longing to not exist. The endless conversations we had now seemed like a setup. I blushed as I remembered how I overshared my thoughts to Father thinking he understood me.

All this time he saw me not as an offering but as a tool for their agenda. As I sat on the throne, I reflected the past seven years I spent with my adopted family. Is that all I ever was to them, a tool? Was I just made to be their scapegoat? Am I just someone they can place all the blame, point to if things go wrong? The crown above me glimmered. My scepter lay diagonal on my lap. My subjects sat before me plotting away their commands given by me. They dressed me in fine silk. Fed me to no end.

They were good to me. I looked around. Am I just another martyr for them to idolize? I pondered, would my origins simply become legends for them to share with their kids, and their kids? I am no leader, no supreme. I am but a body, a vessel, for them to dump their misfortunes on. Oh how I wish their plan to be flawed. Fortunate for them they have me to lead the way. To make sure all their manifestations come to fruition. “I should have been gone by now,” I told myself. Instead, I’m tethered to the very same world I wanted to escape.

Once all the pieces were in place, our plan to awaken the world was in motion. We all play a role and ours is not for the faint of heart. We, agents of chaos, are essential for the development of human progress. Tonight, we will give no more reasons for the rest of the world to remain dormant. Flight or fight. Those are the only option. For far too long have we patiently been expecting people to find the light. We gently asked but to no avail. Thus, we have raised our expectations.

Chaos is the only means to awaken those who remain dormant. Disorder is the only cause that helps us find common sense. Where some flourish in peace, others thrive in hell. As for the rest of us, we simply want to watch the world burn. Never tell people to do what they love because some love to murder. Be wary of who you encourage to follow their passion because to some their passion may lead to hell on earth. No one ever enabled me to lead with my heart. No one ever expected anything from me. Yet here I sat on a throne made of gold and a crown decked in crystals and gems.

In a single night, all hell broke loose. A mass simultaneous murder spree ran rampant on a global scale. Gods trumpet of the apocalypse roared as screams of torture spilled out into the streets. No home was spared from our hands. No law chained us to be obedient. Our members range from civilian to officials. We are the omnipotent. We know all the codes to everyone’s security locks. We know all the blueprints to every panic room. No one is safe. Regardless of wealth or status. The apocalypse, man’s judgment, is our destiny.

“Please don’t do this.” They all begged. One psychotic member relished as he slit the throat of his victim while others bound, watched. “You don’t have to do this!” They implored. We said nothing for we as a society had over a thousand years of words to say. Now is a time for action. Our psychotic member stood before his next victim. He locked his victims head between his thigh and forced open their left eye. A small bottle of industrial glue he held in his hand hovered inches away from his victims eye. “Please!” They screamed, “Don’t,” as he squeezed the bottle.

Project: Bombshell

            Between you and me, there are certain information that must be kept in the dark. This kind of information too confidential to be made public can break even the best of scholars. For legal reasons I myself cannot share with you said classified information directly. Don’t get me wrong, there are loopholes that allow me to release these unfathomable atrocities. Through the means of fictional scenarios, I am able to express all that I know without persecution. Bare with me for though as outrageous and fictitious it may be, the world has witness stranger things.

            Keep in mind the sole reason as to why such ridiculous information must and should be kept hidden from the public. Not to keep the people ignorant but to maintain a sense of order. Government officials mean well. Why else would they be, and remain, in office. Having everything out in the open is not as rewarding as you would assume. Other wise there would be civil unrest all year round. People would continue to occupy state capitals or worse, raid them. Luck it be, we are dealing with fictional scenarios.

            Events such as raiding the capital is what fiction is all about. There is no comprehensible way that could ever happen for the laws set before us would prevent an escalation. There are chain of commands that one must go through before ever setting foot on capital grounds. But before I go on a tangent, allow me to share with you an insightful plot deemed too unreal to be true. I trust you will keep this between us or for the very least remain anonymous with your shares.

            You see, in my field of expertise, I have access to countless information no one must repeat; let alone emulate as a plot for some movie. These classified files I was entrusted to, “Get rid of,” I on occasion read a few or two. Some of the information I managed to read have already made it to the general public consensus by the means of fictional books that later were adapted to movies and shows. These classified files date back further than you can imagine.

            The more I was tasked to store and delete these classified information, the more I began to paint a picture as to where we as a civilization are heading. You wouldn’t believe me even if I showed you the damn files myself. This fictional story I share with you is only a glimpse. A small window to the mind of our overlords goals for the masses. You may laugh them off as fiction but know they exist. They exist for I exist in pen and paper as skin and bones.

            Knowing what I know, I realize and make sense as to why things are the way they are. Why the world functions the way it does. But I alone cannot change the course of time. I alone cannot right the wrongs of many generations before me. I can only express them through the best form people seem to understand, story telling. Through the means of literature can I escape the torment that follows if I ever break my oath. Literature is my endgame.

            With this in mind, allow me to share with you a piece of the puzzle to the ever expanding conspiracy theory. What you are about to read is pure fiction and nothing more. A short disclaimer, the events taken place in this dramatized story is inspired by true events. Events I read on paper I was ordered to, “Get rid of.” I am not responsible for how your reality shifts upon finishing this tall tale of wonder. Proceed at your own risk.

            “Will this work?” The president of the United States asked as he finished reading a file given to him by his trustees. He analyzed, trying to wrap his mind around such an impossible task. “This seems too illogical.” He criticized, “It’s pseudoscience at best but can this truly work?” He turned to his trustees once more. Two men in white coats stood before the President. They remained silent. “How am I to convince the people of this if what you expect me to say sounds too illogical.”

            “We expect you to do your part.” One answered shortly after.

            They stood motionless as the President read his lines again. The information given to him to regurgitate to the general mass would certainly raise eyebrows but what more could he do. With the world at the brink of awakening this new project looming will without a doubt break the camels back. People will no longer be naïve. Their suspicion will peak interest even to the clueless of minds. The President read his lines once more. Then addressed his trustees.

            “Gentlemen,” The President began, “We do not need more people waking up to the truth. The chemicals alone won’t be enough. If you decide to go through with this, you will have more people to deal with. You won’t be able to silence them all.” His trustees remained silent, motionless. “There will be more civil unrest.” The President finished, “Circus and bread. Without it, expect the nation to perish.”

            “We expect you to do your part.” One repeated.

            “You plan on detonating how many nuclear bombs exactly?” The President spoke out of character. “A comet the size of Texas? That’s your red herring. You truly believe people will be convinced by all of that?” His two trustees stood before him with a glazed look in their eyes. They seemed distant, spaced out but present. “You will only cause more people to raise suspicion and that is the last thing we need.” The President leaned back in his chair, brainstorming for other possible explanations.

            “We expect you to do your part.” One of his trustees repeated, dry and monotone.

            “I don’t mean to break character.” The President explained. “I know my role. I’m just not convinced by the science behind this project. You want me to convince the people that we are going to detonate,” he skimmed through the papers before him, “Four nuclear bombs in our own back yard and two in Japan to alter Earth’s orbit from the sun.” He paused to get some agreement from his trustees. They remained detached. Their eyes empty and hollow.

            “Even by a few meters,” the President added, “It all screams pseudoscience. You mean to tell me with a couple of nuclear bombs we can shift Earth’s orbit off by just a fraction?” His trustees stood silent. “And your reasoning is that some asteroid big enough to split Earth in half is on its way towards us.” The President sat in dismay. He analyzed the data his trustees gathered for him to process. The math, graphs and charts each made sense to some degree.

            “If this works,” the President concluded, “How will we know that Earth will remain in the goldilocks zone?” He looked at his trustees. “How will we know that Earth won’t go off course? If we manage to shift Earth’s orbit around the sun, how will we know Earth won’t collide with the other neighboring planets?” He skimmed through the pages he held in his hand. “Your research says nothing about that.” His trustees turned to each other then back at him.

            “Let us worry about that.” One answered. “We will do our part.”

            “We expect you to do yours.” The other repeated.

            History came and went as planned. By detonating nuclear bombs at certain regions on Earth we were made to believe in the impossible. And yet the impossible proved us wrong. We watched as the bombs fell. Heard its demonic explosion echo in the air. Felt its fire spread hell on Earth. One after the other, their plot to rid Earth from the universe was in full effect. If war did not rid man from existence then the next best thing would be to get rid of man’s home, Earth.

            What we tend to overlook is the fact that we as humans don’t bother to ask the right question. Maybe because we narrow our focus to things that only deemed of importance to us. But us are not we and we are not you. Just because you say the sky is blue does not mean the sky is in fact blue. To some the sky may be gray or at certain times the sky may be orange. Not everyone sees the same even if they are seeing the same thing.

            These creatures I have mentioned have been with us long before man tamed fire. They carry themselves as guardians. Some kind of protectors of the galaxy but if you ask me the only thing they are protecting is their own interest. They don’t think of us as their equals. They don’t even think of us as their slaves. All they are really doing is exploiting the human race for all our resources. At least that’s what the files I’ve been ordered to get rid of say.

            Take what you’ve read with a grain of salt. Believe at your own expense. Trust is no longer on the table. The only thing we can do, moving forward, is proceed with caution. Seeing is believing they say but in this day of age even sight can be deceiving. Now remember if anyone asks we never met. This never happened and you didn’t hear it from me.