Read Anarchism of an Antichrist Page 31


  Chapter 22

  Month after month Jason continued his quest for ascension amidst electromagnetic shocks, agonizing physical pressure, incessant telepathic harassment, and radioactive heat, which often put him into a sweat. The medicated shell became so separated from his biochemistry that he could slam his jaw line against the source near his left ear, loud enough for other people to hear. Clicks routinely occurred in his head, when he was shocked and he could feel cracks opening in the shell as medications were propelled outward. Three bottles of water a day on a vegan diet with daily yoga and exercise caused his saliva to taste of medications and he periodically scraped remnants of the medications from the back of his bottom incisors.

  The pixies' need to speak across his jaw line, trying to force their voices outward through his mouth, reminded him of talking during his sleep. Whenever he awakened saying something, he knew it was them trying to seize control over his mouth and he grew fearful for his safety. It became very obvious that talking during his sleep earlier in life was actually a type of arms buildup against his psyche as the medications had settled over his brain and mouth, establishing more and more control to eventually automate him or drive him insane.

  One morning as the pixies were shocking him, he felt a tear in his jaw line just above his left molars. This was followed by a slight pain in his left molars and the surrounding gum tissue.

  At breakfast the pain increased when he bit down on some food. The tooth ache hurt so bad, he grimaced and groaned every time he chewed. To avoid the worst of the pain, he chewed the food on the right side of his mouth, but it still hurt. Sometimes he forgot and reverted back to chewing on both sides, bringing back that awful pain.

  The pixies exploited the pain as best they could. They sent shocks and applied pressure over the tooth ache to accentuate the pain before issuing more commands.

  The alien force over Jason's brain routinely forced thoughts of alleviating the pain with medications, but Jason refused to cover it up. He tasted the anesthetic that had been injected at dental appointments and it made him think of the first time he had heard voices not long after he'd had his wisdom teeth removed.

  The shrill pixies often said, “We need to teach you wisdom.”

  It occurred to Jason that the anesthetic applied during the removal of his wisdom teeth had never fully left his system. Using the untapped pain that it was covering up, the government was able to wield corresponding spaces in the brain above it.

  After suffering the tooth ache for a couple of weeks, it healed over naturally, so that he could chew on both sides of his mouth without tooth pain.

  “You're not allowed to see that as a miniature version of what's happening with the telepathy,” commanded a shrill pixy.

  Jason assumed it was a microcosm of what needed to be done with the medicated shell. He had to suffer through the pain and anguish, while cleansing his body naturally, in order to help his brain to heal itself.

  After many months of cleansing his body with diet, exercise, and yoga, Jason began experiencing brief moments of transcendental euphoria. Once the euphoric effect wore off, the pixies returned and tortured his brain to condition him against obtaining it. When preparing to assume his asana, the pixies pressured his brain, making it sore. Once he was in his asana, they pressed in against him and jabbered, trying to block the euphoria, but their voices and the pressure were routinely thrown off. The struggle between the air going upward into the brain passages and the pixies reigning pressure to block it often resulted in a pulsating heat.

  During a workout Jason felt and heard a death rattle going through his throat. Then one of the more raucous pixies began violently shocking him while forcing his voice over Jason's throat loud enough to hear the pixy trying to speak out loud through Jason's mouth.

  Later that day when Jason was studying, the pixy forced his voice over Jason's throat, yelling, “I NEED MY MEDICATIONS AND I WOULDN'T BE SAYING THAT UNLESS I DIDN'T REALLY NEED THEM! WE WOULD NEVER BE THIS OBVIOUS ABOUT NEEDING MEDS UNLESS WE WEREN'T USING THEM TO DO THIS!”

  The attack made Jason temporarily incapable of reading or writing and it made him fearful of completely losing control. He clamped his mouth shut and stuck his tongue in the bottom of his mouth, but the voice continued shouting along his throat in clearly understandable English.

  There was a knock at the door and the pixy immediately stopped shouting.

  Jason took a moment to catch his breath and he said, “Come in.”

  Tracy entered and asked, “Was that you yelling like that?”

  “No. It was one of the pixies torturing me.”

  Her eyes widened. “That's disturbing.”

  “I know. They're doing everything they can to force me to stop cleansing myself.”

  “People are worried about you.”

  “There's nothing to worry about. I'm not going to submit.”

  “It scares me to hear them doing that to you.”

  “I'm sorry you had to hear it.”

  From then on whenever Jason felt one of the pixies trying to seize control over his throat, he took deep breaths in and out of his mouth as best he could to stifle the attempt.

  One night, while sleeping, Jason ascended beyond his body. The pixies swarmed him, yelling invectives and delivering shocks. Then they tore at him, until the shell containing his body disintegrated and he floated upward.

  He ascended through clouds in a burst of euphoria, believing himself dead and, once again, he welcomed it. His struggles in the physical realm no longer meant anything to him. He was content to float through space feeling euphoria surging through him for all eternity.

  Then he burst through the cloud cover and his being was overwhelmed with splendorous light. His consciousness expanded beyond knowledge of himself and he stood there as little more than a receptacle for mind blowing euphoria. Then the blinding light receded and he looked up at an expanse of light in the sky above him.

  With the receding of the light his awareness of himself and his surroundings returned. He wondered if he was going to wake up again like he had the last time he'd entered this sphere.

  The light fluctuated and an angel said, “You must invert the process as it leaves you.”

  “What process?” asked Jason.

  “The process of mind control.”

  “Why?”

  “It must be inverted against the empires to free the world. Then there will be a utopia.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “You must perform invocations of the angelic hierarchies and set a trigger for them to winnow outward with the process for mind control inverted.”

  “How will that result in a utopia?”

  “The automated servants will fall under the control of the hierarchies and the world will be freed.”

  “Can I control them through the hierarchies after I've inverted the process?”

  “They can perform some tasks for you.”

  “Will the hierarchies perform torture and murder for me?”

  “No.”

  “Is it possible to control the automatons using the world of shells?”

  “Beware of the cacodemons. Their hunger is never satiated.”

  The mention of cacodemons appealed to Jason's obsession for revenge. His mind was torn between the boundless euphoria he felt in this sphere and the hatred he felt for the sadists back on earth. He was contemplating how sweet it would be to unleash cacodemons through such a connection when his surroundings faded to black and he awakened in his bed, feeling high and energetic.

  “You're not allowed to feel like that,” said a shrill pixy.

  Jason thrust himself out of bed and he prepared for his morning yoga session.

  “We know what you're thinking,” said the raucous pixy, which had seized control over Jason's throat earlier on. “That was us saying that to you last night. HEY! YOU HEAR ME?!? YOU NEED...”

  The pixy's voice was drained into an electric spark that stung an area of the brain near Jason's le
ft ear. The spark released feelings of radiation outward into other portions of Jason's brain and across his forehead, causing his skin to sting and sweat slightly with the pulsating heat.

  “We're not allowed to do that. We need to be big over you.”

  “I meant to do that,” said the raucous pixy in a calmer voice. “Prove I didn't mean to do that.”

  “You're not allowed to get hopeful with things like that happening.”

  “FUCK YOU TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!” shouted the raucous pixy, forcing his voice over Jason's mouth with enough force to slightly move Jason's lips “I'M NOT YOUR…” An electric current shot through Jason's left jaw line where the pixy had been trying to force him to speak as the voice halted again.

  Then they went right back to harassing Jason about his perception of what was happening.

  The short circuiting of the synthetic telepathy did make Jason hopeful as he performed his morning yoga and exercise session.

  Jason spent the next few days composing invocations and evocations for the inversion of the attempted mind control. He set up processes carrying the energy, the pressure, and the pain through the ethereal into astral, where it was collected, replicated, and transferred outward to a system of astral satellites, wielding divine knowledge over the world's population.

  From these astral satellites wielding divine knowledge, cacodemons and other lesser spirits were to seize as much control as possible over everything being controlled by the government systems. Then they would use the psychotronic and electromagnetic systems to kill or debilitate collaborators, who hadn't been engaging in white slavery, including the many doctors and specialists dismissing evidence of the genocide that was going on. The collaborators who survived were to be used as test subjects for the very medications they had been helping to promote with the psychotronics turned around on them in isolated settings.

  Those who had been engaging in white slavery were to be taken hostage and tortured whenever possible or killed if absolutely necessary.

  Then the psychotronic systems over the general population were to be shut down, with only isolated use of psychotronics in controlled settings for the purposes of torturing collaborators and sadists.

  After the conjurations were finished, the intensity of the electromagnetic shocks increased along with attempts to speak through his mouth. This resulted in the voices routinely breaking apart into electric sparks near his left ear and then coming in through another portion of the shell, complaining about Jason's perception of what was happening.

  As the months wore on the ringing centered near his left ear seemed to short circuit more and more. Sometimes it descended into electronic chimes that caused vibrations near his left ear and at other times it completely short circuited, leaving brief moments of clarity, which made Jason long for freedom.

  Jason was performing an evening yoga session, while a raucous voice said, “You're not allowed to wanna be like us so you need to give up. We're never gonna give up harassing you so you wanna be like us refusing to give up.” A violent shock shook Jason's head and once again the voice was yelling in conjunction with the electromagnetic shocks. “YOU HEAR ME! YOU NEED TO GET ANGRY! I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO YELL LIKE THIS! YOU SHOULD BE GETTING ANGRY WHENEVER I WANT...”

  A terrible pain gripped Jason's left ear with a nerve rending spark, which made him fear going deaf. The voice broke off into a high pitched electronic humming that reverberated throughout his head. Jason violently thrust kundalini up his spinal column, desperately wanting to damage the shell as much as possible before the voices returned. He preferred being deaf over submitting to them. He preferred death over submitting to them.

  The electronic chimes continued off and on, broken by moments of clarity, and Jason expected the voices to return at any moment. In all his years of telepathic harassment they had never allowed so much time to pass by without any jabbering or nerve pain.

  As he continued his kundalini yoga session, the thrusts upward sent burst after burst of unimpeded euphoria, expanding his consciousness. Each burst sent him into a state of blissful ascension, in which he temporarily lost consciousness of himself. Then the radiance flowed downward throughout his body, filling him with a glowing sensation.

  When Jason rose from his asana he received a rush flooding his head with further euphoria. He fell asleep that night feeling blissful and content. It seemed too good to be true that the voices had gone silent. If they returned again the next morning he would go on depleting the medicated shell until he could achieve this pleasurable mental state permanently.

  The next morning he awakened feeling more energized and alive than he ever had before in his life. No voice came in to drain it. He performed his morning yoga and exercise session without any impedance.

  When Jason reached the cafeteria for breakfast, he heard a buzzing noise from the television followed by a monotone voice saying, “This is the emergency broadcast system. Everyone is advised to remain calm and stay indoors until further notice.”

  Several people were gathered around the television.

  “It couldn't be a natural disaster,” argued Marvel. “They wouldn't be telling people to do that.”

  “Then what else could it be?” asked Vinh.

  “Probably martial law,” said Tracy.

  “Something weird is going on,” said Todd. “It's the first time in years that I haven't been getting harassed by the V2K.”

  Jason sat down next to Todd and asked, “You too?”

  “So I'm not the only one.”

  “No, you're not. The bandwidth completely fell apart last night while I was doing yoga.”

  “I've still got ringing in my head, but I haven't heard any voices since I woke up this morning.”

  “Maybe there's something wrong with the systems,” suggested Tracy.

  “Could be,” said Marvel.

  “Have you tried any other television stations?” asked Jason.

  “We've tried everything,” replied Todd. “All the media is blocked out.”

  “Maybe there's something on the ham radio.”

  “It's worth a try,” said Marvel.

  All the ham radio frequencies were either off line or broadcasting messages from the emergency broadcast system.

  They decided to take turns checking the various radio frequencies to see if they could find out what was going on.

  The cessation of the telepathy in the other TI's seemed too synchronistic to be a coincidence. Jason knew it was more than just the breakdown of government systems in his own case, because the ringing and the mental containment were completely gone now, but inwardly he suspected the cessation in the others might be a byproduct of his evocations coming to fruition.

  His yoga sessions were now more blissful than any high he had previously gotten with drugs and his awareness and concentration had been enhanced manifold.

  Jason was high on euphoria thrusting kundalini up his spinal column, when there was a knock at the door.

  “What do you want?” asked Jason.

  “There's somebody asking for you,” replied Todd.

  “Who?”

  “I don't know. They're using a CB radio frequency.”

  The idea startled Jason. He rose and opened the door. “They asked for me by name?”

  “Yeah. He used your full name.”

  Jason and Todd walked down the hall.

  “Did he say who he was?”

  “He sounded foreign.”

  “How?”

  “Kind of middle eastern.”

  “Did you ask where he was from?”

  “He wouldn't tell me. He said he needed to speak to you.”

  When they reached the CB radio, Jason picked up the microphone and said, “This is Jason. Who's speaking?”

  “I am Yuval.”

  The voice did sound slightly middle-eastern, but gruff, baritone, and different from a Muslim. “Why did you ask for me?”

  “Your father wants to meet with you.”

  “Why doesn't m
y father say so himself?”

  “He wants to meet you in person, not over a CB.”

  “My father wouldn't have any problem speaking to me like this.”

  “That's not your real father.”

  Jason's voice grew sharp as he asked, “How would you know?”

  “We had you placed into this social system as a keystone for the takeover. Your real father is an Israeli.”

  Jason remembered what the angel had said about predators being drawn out of whack around him. “How is that possible?”

  “We had you planted into the social system in association with the prophecies.”

  “What prophecies?”

  “Prophecies retrieved from astral recreations of the future. We knew you'd respond that way and invert the process over them.”

  Jason was dumbfounded for a moment. Then he asked, “What's going on outside?”

  “Bodies are still being rounded up.”

  “Why?”

  “The systems went haywire and began slaughtering people en masse.”

  “How many?”

  “We don't know yet.”

  “What about the government?”

  “It fell apart.”

  “What's going to happen now?”

  “We'll have to set up a new government.”

  “Are the psychotronic systems being shut down?”

  “You can discuss that with your father.”

  “Those systems need to be shut down after what's happened. Innocent people should be able to live free from fear of that type of access.”

  “It's not that simple.”

  “Why isn't it?”

  “Your father can explain it to you. It's a very complicated subject.”

  Epilogue

  Jason rode for hours on the highways and the freeways without seeing a single vehicle. When he did see vehicles they were small groups of UN military vehicles.

  It was a ghost world now.

  He was on his way to the Israeli Embassy to speak to his supposed father about shutting off the psychotronic systems. He'd left his weapons behind, feeling above acts of physical violence now.

  The robotic movements of the guards, who let him into the embassy, made him feel uneasy and mistrustful.

  The man, claiming to be his father was a fat toad of a man, sitting behind a desk, dressed in a three piece suit. He looked nothing like Jason.

  There was a smell of stale cigar smoke in the air.

  “Hello, Jason,” said the fat man in a deep and gruff voice. “I've been looking forward to this for a long time.”

  “I want to know what's going on with the change of government.”

  “It's an honor to meet the antichrist of revelations,” said the fat man, grinning.

  Jason was at a loss for words. He didn't want to believe he was being mocked after all he had suffered for them, but there was no mistaking the hubris in the man's voice. Just before Jason could gather his thoughts to express his anger the bullet entered his skull and death was instantaneous.

  He died refusing to accept that he was just a pawn for another New World Order.

 
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