

## THE MAKING...

### J. Eric Booker

Smashwords Edition

Copyright J. Eric Booker, 2004.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Booker Enterprises Publishing Co.

THE Making...

**Publisher's Note:** _This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or, are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental_.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN 1-58982-058-4

Booker, J. Eric, THE Making...

Dedication

I wish to dedicate this work to God, my greatest inspiration. I also wish to dedicate this work to all those inspirers, helpers, fans, friends, and family that helped in the making of this book, directly or indirectly. Thanks, ya'll!

## Preface

Shortly after I decided to write a book, an idea that had entered my mind in January of 2000, I approached a friend with the idea, hoping to gain that person's approval and support. I was met with the response, "It'll be a cold day in hell before you ever write any book!" Although I was a little surprised and daunted at the cold reply, I approached another friend with the same idea and received a far warmer response ("Awesome—write it!" or something to that effect).

With this friend's encouragement, I began the unbelievably arduous task of doing something I had no idea how to do. It showed, as I was saddled with the vagaries of amateur writing; but as I pushed myself harder, including studying the English language in-depth, my story began to acquire the look and feel that I had envisioned when I had undertaken the challenge.

Within this very story are intertwined the elements of good and evil; reality and fantasy; ancient writings, modern-day problems, and futuristic ideas. My hope is that the reader will feel the thrills and the fears, the hopes and the disappointments, the joys and the sorrows derived from the experiences of Jeb Arthur Maruso, an infamous ritualistic serial killer. While my fictional character awaits the execution of his death row sentence in a jail cell, he only then claims that he is innocent, and that the real killer is still on the loose, waiting for the right time to strike again! It was on Dec. 21st, 2002 that he was lethally injected.

There are two possibilities with respect to Mr. Maruso's final claims: Either he is indeed the killer, a diabolical mastermind who will use his writings to convince the unsuspecting of his innocence; or he is a victim of the real killer, a would-be hero trapped by his own good intentions and naiveté, a pawn in the ultimate game between good and evil.

Of course, from these two possibilities springs a third: that Jeb is destined to be, ultimately, the hero that he has always aspired to be! As the story unfolds through the eyes of the condemned man, via his diaries and other electronic recordings, it is up to the reader to figure out which possibility is the truth.... In other words, this book can technically be classified: WHO-DUN-IT? MURDER MYSTERY.

As a word of caution, I would like to inform the reader that the opinions expressed in various parts of this book—in particular, those found in the fictional textbooks "Magick: The Forbidden Fruit" and "The Day of Judgment," which contain ideas culled from various authentic sources including internet websites—are not the opinions of the author.

At one point, I had considered omitting them altogether, for fear that the mere effort of wading through the rather dense text would detract from the story's cadence.

Alternatively, I considered including these informational passages at the end of the story, as appendices footnoted in the general text, which would give the reader the option of referring to them at their leisure.

In the end, however, the passages were left alone, as they already occupied logical positions within the story—but if the reader chooses to skip past them and return to them later, I will not take offense.

Finally yet importantly, remember that this book is "a work of fiction," meant to be enjoyed only by MATURE AUDIENCES—18+!

_Bon Appétit_.......

~~ Plato, **Phaedrus 272** ~~

Socrates: The fact is, as we said at the beginning of our discussion, that the aspiring speaker needs no knowledge of the truth about what is right or good... In courts of justice no attention is paid whatever to the truth of such topics; all that matters is plausibility... There are even some occasions when both prosecution and defence should positively suppress the facts in favor of probability, if the facts are improbable. Never mind the truth—pursue probability through thick and thin in every kind of speech; the whole secret of the art of speaking lies in consistent adherence to this principle.

Phaedrus: That is what those who claim to be professional teachers of rhetoric actually say, Socrates.

## Chapter I

The Beginning and The End

Somewhere within this infinite universe, one of the countless yellow suns out there spat out a ball of fire the size of a baseball. As this fireball continued to fly further and further away from the sun and its brilliant light, millions of different lights began to sparkle from all around, the lights of other stars, brighter and brighter—only seconds later, the last of the fire dissipated, revealing a silver-colored orb.

This orb's speed did not decelerate yet accelerate; and within a minute, it had already left behind what appeared to be an isolated, one-planet solar system.

Soon, the orb was moving at a speed far greater than that of light, passing countless solar systems, the light from their individual stars appearing and disappearing within its visual field in the blink of an eye.

Within moments, the entire galaxy was left behind in the pitch-blackness of space, but the orb soon passed another bedazzling galaxy far off in the distance. Some of its stars appeared to be near enough to touch, while others were barely visible amidst the stunning array of colors spread throughout—ravishing reds intermixed with forest greens, and splashed together with magentas and midnight blues—but the orb did not pause to admire the beauty of this galaxy, continuing only in its predestined direction forward.

The orb's speed accelerated yet again, and it passed by an endless stream of heavenly bodies. Finally, it approached a swirling conglomeration of solar systems, with a dizzying array of stars, planets, asteroids, and other forms of cosmic debris, a concoction known to its inhabitants as the Milky Way galaxy.

Only then did the orb slow down as it penetrated the outermost realm of solar systems within the galaxy; and its speed continued to wane as it moved toward the center of the galaxy. Finally, about 28,000 light-years away from the galactic center of the Milky Way, the orb encountered a small but brightly lit solar system with nine planets orbiting a massive star.

In the farthest reaches of this solar system, the orb first passed by a small, dark, and seemingly neglected planet with several smaller moons orbiting around it—a forlorn little family that seemed to be lost, 2.7 billion miles away from its paternal sun.

Several colorful planets were then passed, but the orb continued forward until it drew near to the third-closest planet to the star—a colorful sphere of blue-green, with overlying patches of a feather-like white substance and with a lonely gray moon orbiting nearby.

As the orb neared the outer atmosphere of the planet, an orbiting device came into view, carrying with it the sounds of millions of simultaneous transmissions. Suddenly, the orb was sucked into the device and sent hurtling through a tubular-spiral realm, a seemingly chaotic realm composed of a barrage of split images and sounds amid a background of ultrasonic waves and white noise. Within a split second, the orb focused upon a blur of lines that began a television broadcast, carrying a news reporter and his message:

"This is Tom Skillings with ZYX news, live from Tel Aviv. Over the past twenty-four hours, more than four hundred Palestinians and one hundred and fifty Israelis have been slain in massive rioting that is now reaching epic proportions; despite the United Nations' continued involvement in the Middle East, each side seems to be more solidly entrenched against the other, with the number of protestors growing every day in this war-torn land and within the United States. The protestors are decrying the deployment of more than 7,000 U.N. troops, including 3,000 U.S. soldiers, now stationed in an undisclosed location in Israel.

"Israeli Prime Minister Mordecai Shalem, Arab League of Nations Spokesperson Mahommed Skallar, the Secretary-General of the United Nations, and the President of the United States are all working around the clock to find a resolution to this ever-growing crisis and to take yet another step toward reestablishing peace. We'll have more details about this developing crisis as it evolves. Once again, live from Tel Aviv, this is Tom Skillings, ZYX News...."

The transmission faded, and the orb moved out of the rectangular box from which the images and sounds had been emitted. Two guards dressed in sheriff's uniforms sat staring at the television. The invisible orb then soared out of the room, out of the guards' tower, and over an enclosed prison courtyard, where four armed guards led a dozen handcuffed inmates towards the main prison cellblocks.

Moments later, the orb entered a maximum-security building known as Death Row and passed down the main hallway, through a solid wall at the end of the hallway, and into the back of a small portable radio.

The following transmission could be heard: "Welcome to Chicago's number-one radio talk show, The Vaughn Ness Show! And here he is...Vaughn!"

"Hello, Chicago!" Vaughn began. "Good morning and welcome to The Vaughn Ness Show! There's no time to waste on today's show, as I have on hold at this very moment a caller who claims to know the dark and secret truths about the world-renowned author and 'twenty-first-century peace philosopher,' Jeb Arthur Maruso!"

"Morning, Vaughn—you're the bomb!" the caller greeted, with enthusiasm typical of Vaughn's callers.

"Thanks, my man! But tell me something: Jeb Maruso hasn't been found guilty just yet, and you're already judging him—"

"But he is guilty!" the caller interrupted. "And I have proof!"

"So...tell me what you think should be done with the man, if you are indeed correct?"

"To be honest with you, Vaughn, I think the sooner they fry Jeb Maruso, the better it will be for all of us! I mean, look at everything he's done—murdering at least forty-two people during his three-year reign of terror, ruining the lives of countless others with his diabolical treachery! I mean, can you—"

"Now hold on a minute," Vaughn interrupted. "None of that stuff's been proven yet! How can you judge the man without knowing him first? Jeb Maruso is, after all, a best-selling author as well as an esteemed and recognized diplomat for his 'Twenty-first Century Progressive Peace Plan,' which has saved thousands and possibly millions of lives! I mean, what could possibly be his motive to so savagely murder those people?"

"Power, Vaughn! Look carefully into this man's history, and you'll see exactly what I mean! Now, check this out—yes, it's sad but true that in his youth, both of his parents were tragically killed in an automobile accident—yet that very traumatic experience left a permanent scar in his heart, one that eventually corrupted both his mind and his soul!

"In high school, at age sixteen, young student Jeb is expelled for drugs. He proceeds to lead a very abusive lifestyle that leads to poverty, and he becomes desperate, like a worm on a hook! He deludes not only himself, but everyone else, by first proclaiming himself to be a student seeking the 'progressive philosophic truths of humanity,' and later claims to be a 'Master who has found the greatest mystery of the universe!' But what Jeb doesn't tell us about is his 'pact with the Devil,' one that would bring him power in exchange for innocent souls! All of a sudden, he becomes a successful entrepreneur, a successful author, even a successful diplomat to the world! His desire to dominate the world creates the Beast—six, six, six—that was prophesied in the Bible. He intends to make us his slaves, in one fashion or another, in order to accomplish this! And, as Jeb says within his _Black Journals_ , 'There will be plenty of deaths to go around, and countless souls shall be ours to suckle upon forever and ever with my Master!' Vaughn, all that I have said is true—I swear to it!"

After a short pause, Vaughn answered. " _Black Journals_? _The Black Journals_ haven't even been authenticated, yet you're already quoting its words like scripture! Everything you've said will need to be proven first in a court of law—after all, it's possible that Jeb Maruso might have been framed. I'd like to think that what his defense lawyer submitted, what was printed in the _Times_ yesterday, is true—and I quote: 'My client is completely innocent of the forty-two counts of murder that he is formally charged with. Jeb Arthur Maruso is a victim of the Solstice Slayings, as we all are! Of this, I am convinced, and I will continue to prove it to the court, beyond the shadow of a doubt!'"

The caller interjected, "But his plea will soon change, Vaughn, so that his ultimate goal may be fulfilled! You see, Jeb Maruso needs to ensure that there exists no possibility for a life sentence to be administered, for he believes that he is the Beast prophesied in Revelations and that he will rise again after his execution!"

"Now that is entirely your superstitious interpretation of it, unknown caller! Again, all of that has to be proven."

"Come on, Vaughn! He was even in Rome, proposing his 'Twenty-first Century Progressive Peace Plan' for the Middle East—a plan that will soon fail, I can assure you of that! If you take a good look at all the unusual things he's done in his life, you will see that he fits all the requirements of the Beast! He aims to start wars and the rumors of wars, and he will blaspheme the name of God to accomplish this! 'Six-six-six,' Vaughn, I'm telling you, all the way!"

"How is it that you know all of this, sir? Where did you get your information? Oh, and while you're at it, why don't you tell us your name, so that we can be assured that you're not a fake?"

"Answer number one: By studying the Bible and equating its prophecies to today's turbulent times! Answer number two: You may simply call me 'The Messenger!'"

Vaughn answered angrily, "Now that's not a name—who are you, damn it?!" The sound of a click could be heard, followed by silence. "He hung up...I can't believe he hung up! Folks, you can't believe everything you hear or read. I think this guy is a quack! We'll be right back to discuss that possibility, or anything else you'd like to discuss—but now, it's time for a commercial...."

In another room in this same wing of the facility, two guards sat at different tables, one inspecting a laptop computer and the other reading from a newspaper. On the front page appeared this blaring headline:

* * *

Chicago Times

_September 22, 2002 Ed_.

TRUE SOLSTICE SLAYER CONFESSES

In a surprising twist yesterday morning, Jeb Arthur Maruso flew into a rage while testifying in court. In what amounted to a self-confession, Maruso raved, "I am your Solstice Slayer, and I am guilty of...three hundred and thirty-three counts of murder in only three years!" The guilty verdict was reached only twenty minutes later, as was the sentence to death by the judge, for the best-selling author and former Nobel Peace Prize candidate.

Article written by Victor Roberts

* * *

The guard who had just finished reading the article next looked over at his comrade, and said, "Yep, Charlie....just like my preacher predicted he would, Jeb Maruso changed his plea. A couple weeks ago at church, he said that Jeb was heavily involved with the occult and performed satanic ritual sacrifices, believing that he was stealing people's souls! My preacher said that the Holy Spirit directly told him that the guy needs to be executed in Israel, the Holy Land, so that he can't come back from the dead and become the Antichrist! I don't know what to think, except that if Mr. Maruso wants the death sentence, he's got it now."

"Good," replied his comrade, as he completed his final check on the laptop computer. "The bastard deserves it—and not a quick death, either, but a very slow and painful execution, like he gave to his poor victims! What I don't understand is why Warden Higgins is allowing him to have this computer, and why he wants us to keep it all top secret—there's something creepy about this guy, and I'd just as soon not have anything to do with him, except for pulling the final switch myself! But orders are orders, right?" The first guard nodded his head in silent agreement.

"Finally..." The guard closed the computer lid, and a soft clicking sound emanated from the computer as it locked securely shut. "I'm done!" He nodded to his comrade and they exited the room. After passing through two checkpoints, they turned down another hallway filled with cell doors. At the ninth door on the right-hand side, they stopped and turned.

The first guard called out, "Open cell block 352." The lock securing the iron-barred door clicked, and the door then opened. Entering the cell cautiously, they observed the prisoner closely while setting the computer down carefully at the near end of a thin mattress. They then slowly walked out of the cell, facing the prisoner at all times. The guards finally called out, "Close cell block 352," and the door slammed shut, sending a loud ringing noise caroming down the hallway. They then turned and walked down the hallway, returning to their quarters without a moment's waste.

In the cell sat a man in a green correctional uniform that contrasted with his thin, pale skin. He sat motionless, except for a flicker of his eyes toward the computer. Slowly, he slid down the mattress and grasped the computer with both hands, bringing it to rest upon a small table that sat next to his bed. He gingerly opened the lid and waited for the computer to boot up. Once it was ready, he moved the small rubber button located on the keyboard until the cursor rested on the audio-word processing program, and clicked Enter. When the blank screen appeared before him, he commenced to speak, and his words appeared on the computer screen exactly as they were spoken....

* * *

Greetings. My name is Jeb Arthur Maruso, a.k.a. The Solstice Slayer! I'm sure that by now, most of you have heard of me. You may have read about my arrest in the newspaper several months ago, discovering in the process all that I've been accused of. Or maybe you're just one of millions who watched my murder trial on television, inevitably witnessing my "breakdown," "confession," and "condemnation" to three hundred and thirty-three murders, though only accused of forty-two!

And if you don't watch TV but attend church every Sunday, you may have heard about my "Satanic plot" to deceive, dominate, and destroy the earth. But what they will tell you is not always true, because stories, rumors, and gossip about me have spread like wildfire. Meanwhile, my image, my reputation, my true being continues to be sabotaged and altered for the consumption of the angry masses!

Have you seen this month's cover of _World Times Magazine_ , with my mug shot and the words "The World's Most Detested Human Being" pasted all over it? If you haven't, then let me tell you what it said about me: the corporate world deems me insane; the martial arts world entitles me Poisoned Dragon; the Jews label me Azazel, or Fallen One; the Christians consider me the Antichrist; the Muslims declare me the Shaitan, or Satan; and even the Occult world condemns me as an outcast!

In other words, I'm someone that the whole world, it seems, wants to see dead. However, as there are two sides to every coin, it is my sincerest hope that after reading this, you will indeed find everything that I say to be true. Most of you will remember me as Jeb Arthur Maruso, aspiring entrepreneur; world-renowned author; twenty-first century progressive peace plan artist; spiritualist; killer. However, flipping over to the other side of the coin, the select few of you who are reading this will learn that I am really just myself— _Jeb Arthur Maruso, Friend_!

After starting with a brief description of my early years, you will be able to read in chronological order, saved onto this very computer, the journals of my past! You will also find footnotes, comments, and other critical information that I shall be adding, in the form of my _Recollections from Death Row_. Simple enough to figure out what it means?

Now you will most likely ask, "How did he obtain this computer while rotting in his prison cell?" The answer is simple: This is the laptop computer on which I had later saved these files, after having transferred them from my desktop computer. That computer was confiscated and used as evidence against me in court. Since I have already been convicted and sentenced, and since there is no hope for appeal, and therefore no hope for my release, suffice it to say that my obtaining access to these old files poses no threat to anyone, and therefore the implications of my possession of them are nil.

Another question you may ask is, "Why would I waste my time reading this?" The answer, once again, is simple. While I have been cast as a sick man, a wealthy psycho who murdered people while pretending to be a god in his quest for absolute domination, I wish for you, the reader, and indeed for all people to know the truth. In order to do that, rather than making yet another verbal argument in my defense, I hope to let my testimony speak for itself.

Thus, I present to you my side of the story, my true accounts of the last three years, compiled from my own carefully transcribed tape recordings, notes from old personal journals, and computer entries—a real-life, day-to-day testimony of the events that transformed me from a wanna-be into a somebody, and finally, into a piece of garbage! Of course, it will all be over by the time you begin reading this—for, you see, my execution takes place in two months, thirty days, fourteen hours, and thirty-three minutes, at which point in time I am to be lethally injected to death—and in the end, if you read between the lines, and you still believe me to be a manipulator, a rapist, a madman, a ruthless killer, a stealer of souls, and an evil mastermind, then let my ashes be dispersed as far as the four corners of the earth, along with everything else associated with my name, so that my image may never ever be conceived of again!

Here, I will conclude this introduction and compile my tragic saga, so that _ALL_ will be in _ORDER_ for the _MAKER_ —as _I AM_ the _mAKING...._

* * *

It all started, of course, with the pain of being born. Little did I know how much more pain was in store for me, for I would never have come out otherwise! I was born and raised in a lower-class family, consisting of only my parents and my older brother, Peter—we were informed early on that other family members were no longer alive. When my parents were alive, they paid very little attention to Peter and me, except when they felt the need to implant the doomsday philosophy from the Biblical Book of Revelations into our heads. They were always so busy with their devotional activities that they ignored us to the point of neglect.

As a child, I was essentially a loner, playing by myself and daydreaming my way through each painfully lonely day. Peter was always at a friend's house and spent as little time at our house as he possibly could. To occupy myself, I engaged in various creative activities—reading, writing, drawing—and at the age of nine, during my summer vacation, I even tried writing my own short story, about a family of unicorns that had a horseshoe stolen from them. This particular horseshoe had magical powers, one that protected the unicorns from danger and even created plenty of hay for them to eat. One particular unicorn bore a special mark, the sign of a hero, and was given the task of retrieving the stolen horseshoe.

After writing four pages of the story, I read it excitedly to my father when he came home from work; but as I finished reading it to him, he ripped the papers from my hand and called my mother into the room with anger in his voice. When she arrived, he shoved the papers into her face and exclaimed, "What kind of garbage are you allowing these kids to read while I'm at work?! You should read this stuff that Jeb wrote—it sounds suspiciously like the work of the Devil!"

At that, I grew angry, and with tears flowing from my eyes, I screamed, "It's not garbage! It's my story, Dad! I spent a week on this project!"

"But where did you get this information? From school?" my father asked, while my mother read through it hurriedly.

"Dad, it all just came from my head! I just made it up! That's all," I answered, wiping the tears from my face but carrying some desperate hope that he might possibly be swayed.

"And that's exactly how the Devil talks to you, son—through your head, not your heart!" My father glowered at me and continued, "Now, I want you to burn this stuff and promise your mother and me that you will never write this kind of garbage ever again!"

My mother stopped reading and answered softly, "I agree with your father, Jeb—what has gotten into you? You've been behaving so irrationally over the last month or so, going into conniptions over little things like washing the dishes or taking out the garbage, and saying, 'No' when it's time to go to bed! I agree with your father—I think that you should burn this. This work contains new-age materials that are surely the work of the Devil—and finally, you should pray to God for forgiveness of your sins."

"No, Mom!" I screamed, fresh tears filling my eyes. "I won't burn it—my story is not evil; it's good! It's about a hero fighting against evil!"

"Now that's enough, Jeb!" my father screamed. "Go to your room—now!" I went to my room in a huff, slammed the door behind me, and cried my eyes out, periodically screaming out in frustration. Peter was gone, as usual, so the room was all mine. Within ten minutes, I had already cried myself to sleep.

It could have been ten minutes, or ten hours, later—I don't know—but suddenly, and from out of nowhere, a flock of people barged through the door and into my bedroom! Without saying a word to me, the elders of our church began chanting Jesus's name repeatedly while approaching my bed, where I was just waking up from the noise. My initial alarm turned into terror as they began to lay their hands upon me, still chanting like zombies! I tried to escape, but it was futile. As I tried to get up, I was immediately restrained and laid back down upon the bed; the harder I struggled, so much the harder became their hold on me.

Finally, one man emerged from the pack, and this man happened to be our minister, Henry Collins. My parents came forth to stand on either side of him, just before he placed his hands upon my head and prayed, "Oh God, our Father, release this poor boy from the atrocity that pervades his body! Oh Jesus, our Savior, allow the Holy Spirit's power to manifest in me and allow me to remove the demon that has occupied Jeb's mind! Jesus...oh Jesus...oh Jesus...." The rest of the group followed suit, crying out His name, their voices rising with each passing moment like the wailing of banshees.

I tried again to escape, but the more I struggled to break free from them, the harder they held me down, until I eventually passed out from sheer exhaustion. Even in my dreams, I could hear them congratulating each other as they shuffled out of the room. That very experience frightened me so much that I didn't try my hand at writing for quite some time thereafter.

Life continued in uneventful fashion for the next couple of years, as I avoided the scrutiny of my parents out of fear and loathing for their paranoid reactions to anything even remotely controversial. When I was eleven years old, Peter, then eighteen, was accepted under an athletic scholarship to the State University of Illinois. Several of his classmates were also accepted, and they all decided to room together. What finally convinced my parents to let Peter go was his promise to be a good Christian, to go to church every Sunday, to study hard for his degree, and to make them proud one day.

Unfortunately for my parents, however, they never got to see that day—for, shortly after my twelfth birthday, they perished in an automobile accident while on their way to their usual Wednesday night church service (I had been left at home only because I hadn't finished the dishes in time). This detail went unnoticed by me until I was old enough to understand the concept of irony.

As for Peter and me, since our parents had no life insurance and no will, and since we knew of no family members to fall back on, we knew that I was in trouble! Peter was on scholarship at college, but he was barely able to cover rent, food, and transportation for himself. Based on our circumstances, the court deemed that he was not in a position to care for his little brother—and I was subsequently placed into a foster home, in a new town, with no knowledge of anyone. Peter was able to visit every other weekend, and thus, a fragile connection was maintained.

My loneliness and isolation in my new town were compounded by my small stature, and problems surfaced in my new junior high school. My classmates began to tease me, perpetrating acts of cruelty and derision meant solely to embarrass me and to enforce their superiority over me. I was harassed constantly, but instead of retaliating, I simply began to withdraw into a shell of isolation.

Somehow, I survived the daily insults and the depression that defined my junior high school experience, and I made it to high school, where a whole new world opened up before me—a world no less cruel but one full of new possibilities. During my sophomore year, a fellow classmate introduced me to marijuana, and from my first drag, I loved it! But to keep the supply coming, I began to steal money from my foster parents.

Only two months passed before I was caught by a teacher, who happened to spot me trying to transfer a "bud" from my pants pocket to my jacket, which was located in my wall locker. After a reprimand and a second chance, I was caught again, but by a different teacher (I wasn't very smart in those days).

Unfortunately, I was given no leniency the second time, and I received a short suspension and was forced to undergo drug counseling, with the promise of immediate expulsion should I be caught a third time. During the second semester of my junior year, I was indeed caught a third time, and I finally struck out, in more ways than one—first, I was kicked out of my foster parents' house; second, I was expelled from school; and third, with no one else who would take me, I was assigned to a juvenile correctional facility.

During my first year in juvie, I did nothing of any "correctional" value, except to take GED classes or go to the library and read old paperback copies of mystery and suspense novels—my only way of escaping from my doleful reality. That first year, Peter didn't come to visit me once—but just three days before my first "anniversary" there, he came waltzing back into my life, bringing along his girlfriend, Christine. Christine was a very cute blonde, in my opinion, and her clothes and attitude reflected a moderately wealthy upbringing. Needless to say, I was impressed at Peter's choice in women!

During his visit, we mainly talked about our lives over the past couple of years, but toward the end of the visit, Peter surprised me by happily announcing that he was going to be a father! I remember my mouth hitting the floor at the realization that my older brother had actually had premarital sex, and that he dared to boast about it—our parents must have rolled over in their graves! I said nothing, as the shock on my face was evident; but within moments, the smile was back as I congratulated both of them.

Just before they left, Peter turned around and suggested, "Listen...why don't you come and live with us for a little while, until you can get yourself stabilized?" I could see that this was something that Christine wasn't too happy about, however.

"Peter," she hissed, in confirmation of my thoughts, "we can't afford to take in Jeb now—especially with the baby!"

"No, Christine," Peter responded, "it's my duty to get him out of here. After all, Jeb suffered the worst from Mom and Dad's death, and he is my little brother! I wanted to help him years ago, but I couldn't...maybe now, I can!" Christine's face appeared slightly flushed, but she kept silent.

Despite misgivings on my part, I agreed to move in with them, into their cramped one-bedroom apartment. I slept on the couch.

It would not be very difficult to believe that problems surfaced almost immediately during my stay there. Naturally, my laid-back approach to such things as personal hygiene and orderliness clashed with Christine's meticulous, compulsive nature, and many an argument concluded with me getting up from the couch and taking a long walk outside to clear my mind. After one such argument, which occurred after she discovered a small plastic bag of marijuana that I had stashed in an end table in the family room, I decided that it was time to look for my own place again...and I hadn't even been there a month.

As I had paltry means, I had no choice but to head back to juvie once again. Peter was sad about my departure, but Christine's ready agreement to my proposition only strengthened my belief that it was the best course of action for me.

Once back at juvie, besides recommencing my GED classes, I started working in the kitchen, and I kept myself busy by working twenty hours a week there. By my eighteenth birthday, I had to leave and get a place of my own. I had saved up $691 by that time, and the cheapest place I could find was a halfway house with rent at $80 a week.

Even to stay at the halfway house, I needed some source of income, however meager. I applied for jobs at several places in town without success. I didn't have a high school diploma; I didn't have training; I didn't have experience. Despite having no credentials other than my GED, however, I was hired as a store clerk at a Kwikee Food Mart after passing only a written test. From the thirty hours a week that I worked on the six-to-midnight shift, I made enough money to pay the rent, to buy food and small pleasures, and to buy an occasional shirt or pants. I was usually broke by the next pay cycle, however, and was thus unable to escape what appeared to be a vicious, never-ending cycle of poverty.

Though my neighbors weren't the most-friendly sort, they always had access to marijuana for a really cheap price. Several times a month, after getting off work at midnight, I recall seeing police officers with their trusted K-9s searching the premises for drugs or seizing a suspect for questioning. Therefore, I was always careful with my stashes, hiding them underneath a small rock on the far end of the parking lot. Such was the care with which I protected what was, at that time, my most valuable asset.

And this is where my story of transformation really begins, on a typical Wednesday night several years later right after my twenty-first birthday, still living in the same temporary house, still living with the same temporary job, and still living with no future—or so I thought....

* * *

The date was June 16, 1999, and it was a very hot and humid Wednesday night. Three buddies of mine—Jesse, Terence, and Mickey—had all decided to stop by ten minutes before my shift was over, and with an unusual level of excitement in their faces, they asked me if I wanted to "party hearty." Mickey pulled out a small bag with green buds covered with crystals and purple hairs, and I needed no further enticement!

Out of the corner of my eye, I suddenly noticed my replacement, Hal, walking in from the back of the store. I quickly gestured to Mickey to put the bag away; just after he had quickly stuffed the bag back into his pocket, I saw Hal look first at him and then at me in a funny way, yet he said nothing.

"All right, guys, I'll be out in fifteen," I called out to them as they walked back out the front door.

"Ready?" asked Hal as he walked behind the register.

"Yeah, let's do it," I answered, and we proceeded to close down my register. Hal began to hum a chipper tune as the registers ran through, giving me an indication that everything was cool. After my closedown procedures were completed, I ran out to Terence's Vancouver, and we took off in more ways than one—smoking "chronic" and drinking a full gallon of seven and seven! Sometime during the night, I blacked out from the intoxicating mixture, with no idea when or where....

When consciousness was first restored the next day, the first thing I could feel were my temples slightly beating. As I opened my eyes to see where I was, I was surprised to discover myself back in my room, in my bed! I first wondered how I had gotten there, what with the rule against visitors after midnight being strictly enforced.

After a few seconds of thought, I determined that I must have staggered back to bed on my own—after doing many other things that I would never remember. I then felt something cold and sticky between my fingers—ugh! Immediately after that, the nauseating smell of vomit wafted up my nose—I looked around and realized that I was drenched in the stuff; it was all over my hands, my arms, my T-shirt, my bed.

The nauseating smell began to make my stomach feel queasy, and I sat up in bed to rip my T-shirt off. That was a huge mistake, as the slight throbbing in my temples abruptly transformed into a massive pounding in my brain! A vicious cycle ensued, as the smell of vomit wafted up my nostrils yet again, causing me to retch. In response, my temples pounded even harder, and I stumbled out of bed and over to the dresser to retrieve the bottle of aspirin lying on top of it, while simultaneously ripping off my shirt, wiping myself off with it, and tossing it into the corner.

Once the bottle was in my hands, it took still another minute to open the childproof top, with the pounding in my brain intensifying with each passing moment! My head felt as if it was going to explode, and I instinctively stumbled back into bed, praying, "Oh God, please stop this headache! Or just kill me now and get it over with!" With a final, desperate twist, the bottle miraculously opened and I reached into it with trembling fingers for the aspirin tablets; I gulped down a handful, not bothering to count, and lay back down, waiting.

A few minutes later, just when my headache was starting to recede, the alarm went off! The blaring noise that emanated from the confounded appliance set my headache to screaming again.

"Ah!" I growled, slamming my fist down on the clock and causing the casing to crack—but the noise, the music from what had been my favorite heavy metal station, persisted. I pounded the clock again, shattering the console and silencing it once and for all!

I then attempted to relax again and to allow the aspirin to do its job. Eventually, the headache did recede, but now my stomach sounded a new alarm, growling and telling me that it was time to eat! I glanced instinctively at the shattered alarm clock.

"Oh well," I muttered under my breath. "Guess I need a new one...."

With the diminishing of my headache, my nostrils were able to detect more keenly the lingering smell of vomit, and I decided to rid myself of the smell once and for all. After getting out of bed, I ripped the sheets off and tossed them on top of the shirt. I had no personal bathroom in that place, so I headed over to the public one to get cleaned up. After I had finished taking my shower and drying off, I threw my clothes on and combed my hair. Returning to my room, I threw my dirty underwear and pants onto the ever-growing pile in the corner.

"They can be washed later," I thought, and I headed to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. I walked to the local McBuck's and got into the line nearest the door. Glancing over into the adjacent line, I hungrily noted that there were two fewer people in it, and I hopped over, just barely beating out an old woman.

As I was starving, I deflected any possible guilt by looking up to the menu on the wall, but on their way there, my eyes were caught by a brilliant sight that held me frozen in wonder—a Hispanic female cashier and food-server with long black hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, revealing a face of perfect beauty, with doe-brown eyes, silky-smooth skin, and strong curves!

The nameplate on her shirt read "Nina." As I stared at the nameplate for a few moments, her soft voice startled me back to reality.

"Can I take your order?" Her sexy Hispanic accent confirmed my thoughts about her ethnicity.

"Sure," I replied. My heart was pounding hard within my chest, but my outward composure betrayed nothing.

"Um," I said with a longer than expected pause, trying to focus on the menu; my eyes were drawn back to her time and again.

"Are you okay, sir?" she asked seriously, squinting slightly with her left eye.

"Uh, yeah, yeah...I'm fine," I said, after regaining my composure. "Can I have the egg, bacon, and cheese bagel with a coffee, please?"

She started to laugh—a pleasant laugh, like gentle waters flowing down a stream—and while attempting to stifle that melodious laughter with her hand, she asked me, "Don't you know what time it is?" I found myself laughing, too, but I didn't know why.

"No," I said, trying to stop laughing. "What time is it?"

She stopped laughing and leaned over the counter. "It's almost three in the afternoon." She gestured with her thumb at the clock behind her. Instead of looking at the clock, my eyes strayed to her small, delicate hands and fingers, with white nail polish and a silver, diamond-shaped bead in the center of each fingernail.

"Oh," I muttered in embarrassment. My cheeks must have been blushing, as I was feeling rather flushed and hot! The first thing that came to my mind was to ask, "What do you recommend?"

She giggled and replied, "Sir? The menu is on the wall, too."

Attempting to hide my embarrassment, I looked down to stabilize myself once again. When I looked back up at her, I could see that she had been observing me. Our eyes remained locked on each other for a long moment, and everything else was forgotten. No longer was I at McBuck's in McCurrn, but alone with Nina, in our own private world, communicating our deepest desires through our facial expressions alone.

"Strange," I remember thinking to myself. "What's a beautiful girl like this doing here? She could be anywhere she wanted! She could easily be a model...."

Just then, a voice materialized from behind me and interrupted my little fantasy. I was abruptly snapped back to reality, as if awakening from a strange dream.

"Are you going to order or what?" It was the elderly lady that I had cut off, and the shrillness of her voice caused my headache to resurface.

Without looking back and trying to remain polite, I asked, "Hold on for one second, okay?"

"Hold on for what, Christmas?" she shrieked sarcastically.

I shouted over my shoulder, "Yeah, why not?" My headache was definitely back now. I looked down at the counter and breathed deeply for a second.

"Well!" she shrieked even louder. "Excuse me if you're not going to order!"

"Listen, lady," I hissed, slamming my hands on the countertop and turning on her with a sudden fury. "I'll be done in a freaking second!" Realizing that my headache would literally explode if I didn't regain my composure, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I began to feel better, except for the sharp stinging in my hands.

"Fine, then," concluded the old lady. "I'm just going to go in this line!" She then shuffled into the other line and mumbled to herself amid the sympathetic customers. By the time I looked back up into Nina's eyes, the previous connection had been lost, and I could feel a piercing coldness within them.

"Can I please take your order, sir?" she said sharply.

"Look," I tried to explain, "I didn't mean to—"

"Just make your order, okay, buddy? There are other customers behind you."

I glanced up at the clock to see that it was 3:08 P.M.—I had been there for nearly ten minutes.

My embarrassment compounded by guilt over my outburst, I looked down at the counter and muttered, "I'll have the number one with a cola." I looked over into the other line to apologize to the elderly lady, but she had already gotten her food and left.

Nina's cold voice interrupted me again. "That'll be three-twenty-eight, please." I handed her my last five-dollar bill, knowing that I would probably be going hungry that night. She took it from me and slapped the change back into my hand, and I moved aside to wait for my food while Nina addressed the next customer with a forced smile. Once my tray was filled, I quickly headed to a table in the corner, out of sight of the service counter, and ate my food in dejected silence. While eating, I considered options to distract me from my embarrassment, and as I finished my cola, a perfect idea hit me—the McCurrn Public Library.

The library had always been my favorite place to go as a kid, and more so because of my parents' suppression of anything literary at home. Although I still liked to read, my trips had become less frequent of late. I had loved reading horror and mystery novels, but most inspiring of all were fantasy novels with their tales of warriors and wizards, dragons and gods! I had always wondered if such fantastical beings existed in real life; after all, real life was rather dull and without purpose, except for my occasional excursions to the library and more frequent indulgences with my party buddies. It was certainly without fantasy, or so I thought.

I left McBuck's and walked down the side streets that led away from the main drag. As I turned down the last street leading to the library, I thought back to Nina and rued the fact that no one had ever taken a personal interest in me until today—no one! And with today's rejection still fresh in my mind, I wondered, "Why do I feel so completely unloved and utterly worthless? I've never felt anything, even when I was baptized at age eleven. Why did my parents push that doomsday philosophy down my throat? What is all this love the church preaches about? Is there an actual reason for my existence? Maybe religion is all a big hoax and I just need something else to focus my thoughts on...."

Thoughts like these had always floated around in my head and probably provided the main impetus for my coming to the library—for, once there, I could completely immerse myself in the fantasy world and escape my real-world dilemmas for a while.

A square edifice loomed suddenly in front of me and snapped me out of my thoughts—The McCurrn Public Library. I walked up the concrete steps and through two large pillars to a series of glass doors. After entering into the main lobby, I walked over to the computerized directory system, noting that the library was unusually busy—adults and kids were everywhere—and took a seat in front of the empty terminal. I pondered for a while about what I was in the mood to read, but after sitting there for several minutes with absolutely no ideas, I began to feel a little fidgety. And several minutes after that, with no ideas surfacing, I began to grow frustrated.

"What the hell am I going to read? And why am I having so many problems today?" I wondered inwardly. I then reasoned that it might have something to do with my hangover. I looked around the library to focus my thoughts and noticed the countless books arranged on their assigned shelves. Still, nothing came to mind until, suddenly, a word mysteriously sprang into my mind. I quickly punched it in: "magic."

Forty-three different entries popped onto the screen. Using the scroll-down key, I glanced quickly at each title and noticed that all were on the subject of stage magic—not exactly what I was looking for. I was thinking more along the lines of historical magic. Finally, my eyes scrolled to the last title. "This one actually looks promising," I mused. The title of this book was _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ , written by a Henry Bateman.

"Hmm," I thought to myself with swelling excitement, "This one definitely looks interesting! Not only is the title cool, but there's a 'k' at the end of the word! I wonder if that means something...." I clicked onto the entry line. After waiting a few seconds, the numbers 40.3113-HB flashed onto the screen, with the availability status: "checked out." Frustration turned into irritation as my eyes scrolled to the right of the status entry only to discover that it wasn't due back until the twenty-first of June.

I was about to shout an expletive but remembered just then that I was in a library and glanced around. Fortunately, no one had seen my face contorted in frustration! Looking back at the screen, I then considered the term "The Forbidden Fruit" for a minute.

"Where have I heard about that before?" I wondered. And then, recollections of my early childhood surfaced, beginning with each Sunday at church. "The answer is in Genesis, at the beginning of the Bible!" I remembered. And I suddenly noticed that the library had turned a tad bit chilly. I tried to recall what I had learned, but without success—darned hangover!

"Well," I thought, "I guess I have something to read now." And I had no doubt as to the availability of the book this time, as I knew that there would be Bibles here. "People never check them things out, anyway!" I mused inwardly, chuckling a few times as I typed "King James Bible" into the terminal. I had always loved the thees and the thous of the King James version, as they always made things sound more official. Sure enough, twenty-two copies of this particular version were on file, and all twenty-two were available for immediate checkout! "My hunch is right on!" I thought. As I proceeded to the other end of the library to retrieve the book, I could feel the temperature dropping drastically in the room.

"Is the freaking air-conditioner on full blast or what?" I muttered to myself. To make matters worse, I had only worn a flimsy tank top and shorts. Goose bumps had sprouted all across my arms and legs, and I was seriously cold!

Once I had reached the other end of the library and found the religions shelf, I discovered the source of the chill—an air-conditioning vent just overhead, blowing the frosty air directly down onto me! As I rubbed my arms with my hands to warm them up, I quickly scanned the shelves in search of the twenty-two copies of the King James Bible—by the time I found them, my body was practically quivering.

Quickly grabbing the first copy I could see, I headed back to my reading spot and back into the warmer temperature zone. After getting comfortable in my usual reading spot, a comfortably cushioned chair, I quickly inspected the blue leather cover of the book, with shiny gold letters proclaiming _New King James Version_.

"Oh well," I said aloud, as I didn't feel like going back to Ice-land to retrieve the Old King James Version. "It's been quite some time since I've even seen one of these things," I mused inwardly, pretending to blow dust off the cover. After getting adjusted in my seat, I commenced to read:

[[Bible—Genesis Chapter 1

Vs. 1-4) In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form, and void; and darkness was of the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw the light, saw that it was good; and God divided the light from the darkness.

Vs. 16) Then God made two great lights: the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night. He made the stars also.

Vs. 18)...And God saw it was good.

Vs. 25-28) And God made the beast of the earth according to its kind, cattle according to its kind, and everything that creeps on the earth according to its kind. And God saw that it was good. Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, according to our likeness; let them have dominion over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth." So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created them; male and female he created them. Then God blessed them, and God said to them. "Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth."

Vs. 31) Then God saw everything that He had made, and indeed it was very good. So the evening and the morning were the sixth day.]]

There wasn't anything about "the forbidden fruit" here, so I kept reading....

[[Genesis Chapter 2

Vs. 1-2) Thus the heavens and the earth, and all the host of them, were finished. And on the seventh day God ended His work which He had done, and He rested on the seventh day from all His work which He had done.

Vs. 7-9) And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being. The Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden, and there He put the man whom He had formed. And out of the ground the Lord God made every tree grow that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. The tree of life was also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.]]

"Wait a second," I thought aloud. "On which day was man created, the sixth or the seventh?" I pondered the question for a minute, but instead of an answer, another question popped up: "In whose image are we actually made? In that of God...or of dust?"

After a moment, with no answers popping into my head, I continued to read, still seeking "the forbidden fruit."

[[Vs. 15-18) Then the Lord God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to tend and keep it. And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, "Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it, you shall surely die." And the Lord God said, "It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him."]]

I stopped reading, as still another question surfaced: "Was Eve ever told that she should not eat of the fruit, or she would die that very day?"

[[Vs. 20-25)...But for Adam there was not found a helper comparable to him. And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall on Adam, and he slept; and He took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh in its place. Then the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, He made into a woman, and He brought her to the man. And Adam said: "This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of man." Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And they were both naked, the man and his wife, and they were not ashamed.]]

"Both naked, as man and wife, and 'unashamed,'" I considered aloud for a moment, and then continued.

[[Genesis Chapter 3

Vs. 1-7) Now the serpent was more cunning than any beast of the field, which the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman, "Has God indeed said, 'You shall not eat of every tree of the garden'?" And the woman said to the serpent, "We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden; but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, 'You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die.'"]]

"Okay, I guess she was told," I sighed aloud.

[[Vs. 8-11) Then the serpent said to the woman, "You will not surely die. For God knows that in the day you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves coverings.]]

The only questions that came to my mind from this passage were these three: "Why didn't Eve tell Adam where the fruit came from? And weren't they already husband and wife, united by God? Finally, why should there be shame if this was the case?" Without answers to my questions, I continued...

[[Vs. 11-15) And He said, "Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree of which I commanded you that you should not eat?" Then the man said, "The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me of the tree, and I ate." And the Lord God said to the woman, "What is this you have done?" The woman said, "The serpent deceived me, and I ate." So the Lord God said to the serpent: "Because you have done this, you are cursed more than all cattle, And more than every beast of the field; On your belly you shall go, And you shall eat dust All the days of your life. And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel."]]

No questions or comments came to mind until Vs. 19:

[[Vs. 19) "...For dust you are, and to dust you shall return."]]

Again, I wondered, "Where does humanity really stem from—God or dust?" Having been completely absorbed in the biblical passages, I had completely forgotten about the frigid air around me until I felt the goose bumps resurfacing all over my arms. I set the Bible down on the chair and began to rub my arms briskly with my hands in an attempt to warm them up again. Within half a minute, my arms were warmer, but now my legs were cold, too.

"Time for a break," I concluded. As I stood up to take a walk around, I noticed something strange—there wasn't a soul in sight! No one was here at all, not even the librarians who typically stood behind their counters at this time of day.

"Where is everyone?" I muttered. I checked the clock that hung over the librarians' counter and noticed that it displayed 4:35 P.M. "Definitely weird," I said aloud. Usually, the library was packed, with the kids being on summer vacation. As I passed by the magazine rack in the far corner of the library, I noticed none of the teenage girls that typically sat there, flipping through their magazines or gossiping about the local news or their latest boyfriends. And as I passed by the glass-enclosed privacy rooms, once again, no one was to be seen or heard.

"Hello?" I called out, a little bit louder, but received no answer. After completing a tour of the place and returning back to my chair, I asked even louder, "Where the hell is everyone?" Looking up and over to the clock that hung on the wall behind the librarians' counter, I noticed that the time now displayed 4:41 P.M.

As I passed by the counter, I looked over and called out, rather loudly, "Hello...anybody here?! I have a book that needs checking out!" Not getting any response whatsoever, I glanced back to the clock one more time for confirmation.

"Yep, 4:41 P.M...oh well," I said, with my voice still getting louder, "Maybe they just decided to close down the %$#@ library... _forever_! _And without bothering to tell me!_ " Now completely frustrated, I glanced back over to my spot and saw the Bible resting on the arm of my chair, and I felt mysteriously calm again. With twenty minutes left until I had to trek to work, I figured I could get a little more reading in, perhaps even accomplish my objective, regardless of whether they had actually shut down the library—so I took my seat and commenced to read again:

[[Vs. 22) Then the Lord God said, "Behold, the man has become like one of Us, to know good and evil. And now, lest he put out his hand and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live forever."]]

The moment my eyes crossed over that last word—"forever"—I felt as though my ears suddenly popped! All around me, I could now hear the sounds of hushed voices, and, glancing up, I could see people all around me, as if they had been here all along! More than fourteen people I counted, from little kids and their mommies to the librarians at their post behind the counter. One of the librarians was just setting down her library card-book scanner after checking out a magazine for a redheaded teenaged girl. The girl was now walking toward her spot near the magazine rack, with magazine in hand, probably to meet up with the rest of her friends.

"And the other teenagers would probably be there, too, if I checked," I mused. My eyes darted back to the clock, which clearly displayed 4:42 P.M. "Funny thing is, only one minute ago this place was completely deserted!" After closing my eyes and shaking my head in disbelief, I opened them once again for confirmation.

"Yep, they're still here!" I whistled under my breath. "Now what the hell is going—" I suddenly froze in mid-sentence, for everyone had stopped what they were doing and, in complete unison, turned to look at me with a blank expression in their eyes! And as I stared back at them in bewilderment, I saw that their eyes had turned stark white, with no pupils or irises to speak of!

I completely freaked out, dropped the Bible onto the seat, and bolted for the exit as fast as my legs could carry me! As I made my way out of the library-turned-freaky zone, I had to swerve and dodge the zombies that were clawing, moaning, grabbing, hissing, and biting for me! After finally escaping through the front doors, I continued running down the sidewalk, my heart now pounding from terror and exhaustion; my lungs were out of shape from smoking, but I only pushed harder and faster, trying literally to outrun Hell itself!

And as my body was racing, so too was my mind. More questions kept popping up, such as, "Is the Bible, the Master Bible, in error? What the hell is happening to me, to my mind? Have I finally gone #%$@ crazy?" After rounding the corner, completely oblivious to my surroundings, I suddenly received two hard hits—something hitting me, followed by me hitting the ground!

After regaining my senses, I realized that there were papers and books flying all around! And then I realized that it hadn't been a some _thing_ that had hit me, but some _one_. The last of the books thudded onto my shoulder and into my hands.

"Oh my God," I breathed out, once realization hit me. "I'm...so...sorry!" My victim was perhaps eighteen or nineteen years old, with a tanned complexion, piercing blue eyes, and slicked-back brown hair. Still breathing heavily from the run, I got up and helped him off the ground while surveying the sidewalk for the extent of the damage. "Let me help you with this mess, okay?" I offered sincerely.

"No problem," he answered, laughing. "I couldn't see a dang thing over these books, anyway!" I then noticed that his eyes were normal—a very good sign! I almost started to chuckle but then caught myself. "What?" he asked, upon seeing my amused expression.

Shaking my head, I only answered, "I couldn't see a dang thing around the corner either, brother!" Instead of going further into an explanation, I simply chuckled a few more times and began the task of picking up the fallen items. Fortunately, in a sense, there was no wind to scatter the loose sheets of paper even farther away—on the other hand, a little wind might have been nice to cool the sweat that was breaking out on my skin.

"Say," he began, after having stacked several books into a pile. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," I answered, picking up another book with one hand and wiping the sweat off my forehead with the other. "You?"

"Fine," he answered. "You just knocked the wind out of me!"

I stopped in mid-reach and laughed. "Me, too!"

"You seem familiar, somehow. Do I know you?" he asked.

"I doubt it," I replied with a smile. "I never forget a face!" After piling the remaining books onto his stack, I turned to look at him again, this time a little more carefully. "Yep, I would have remembered this dude's face if I'd met him before," I thought in confirmation.

"Oh," he continued. "Do you come to the library often?"

Nodding my head, I answered, "A couple of times a week."

"Me, too," he replied. "Are you a student?"

"Nope," I answered, wiping the sweat out of my eyes. Quickly, I gathered the remaining loose papers. In less than a minute, we had them all neatly stacked in a notebook. Once everything had been placed into two tall stacks, I offered, "Would you like some help taking these back to the library?" And then I remembered—the Freaky Zone!

But before I could retract my offer, he answered, "Sure!" Just before he was about to pick up one of the piles, he asked, "Ready, or would you like to take a break first?"

"Nope, I'm ready—besides, I actually need to head to work," I answered, wiping the sweat off my hands and face onto my shirt. I then grabbed the remaining pile. As we headed back into the library and toward the book deposit, I could feel a very strong shift in temperature, especially with the sweat still pouring down my body—but I happily noted that everyone looked normal again.

Dismissing the previous illusion, I steered the subject, and my mind, back to one of the questions he had asked. "No, I'm not a student. Actually, I just come here to escape from reality." At that point, I could feel the sweat all over me freezing and turning into icicles!

He laughed. "Books, unfortunately, bring me back to reality!"

"I guess you can call me a mild-mannered convenience clerk, if you want," I said, laughing.

He smiled and said, "I'm a student at DeLaw University."

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, "What's your major?"

"Pre-law," he replied. "This semester, I'm taking psychology, philosophy, trigonometry, and world history."

"Sounds like you're a busy person." I whistled aloud and noted for the first time that he hadn't a drop of sweat on his body! "So, what's your name?" I asked after we had finally reached the book deposit counter and set down our piles. "I'm Jeb." I extended my hand.

"Bryan," he answered, clasping my hand. "Bryan White. Interesting way to meet, huh?"

"Yeah, definitely!" I responded, chuckling. As we finished our handshake, my eyes strayed back to the clock, which now displayed 4:58 P.M. "Well, I've got to get to work, or I'm going to be late!"

"Nice to meet you," he said, bowing slightly. "Until we meet again...."

"Later, bro," I concluded with a slight salute, and then headed back outside into the nice warm air, and then to work.

Work was awful that night. For the first two hours, hordes of customers circulated around the store and lined up at the cash register, giving me no peace. The eighty-degree temperatures in the store didn't help, as the air-conditioner was broken yet again. Despite the crowd and the heat, my mind kept brewing over the events of the day in a haze of disbelief. After things had finally slowed down in the store and I was able to take a fifteen-minute break, I concluded that maybe all I needed was a nice vacation, a chance to get away from here for a little while. Unfortunately, I was in no financial condition to take any time off.

My "boys" stopped in and tried to persuade me to party with them just before my shift was over, but this time, I was too exhausted and ready only for bed. I promised them that I'd be available the following Saturday night, however, since I only had to work the twelve-to-six shift. They agreed, and on Saturday night, the four of us went up to the Club-E, in the city.

Though my buddies partied almost every weekend, I had never partied outside of McCurrn before. But that night, I had the time of my life, listening to loud progressive music while surrounded by many beautiful, finely dressed women. The effects were even better about forty-five minutes after I took the first roll of ecstasy in my life and it finally kicked in! Everywhere I looked, I could see blurred lights, coming either from the dance floor or from the people in the club playing around with glow sticks.

Besides the visual effects of the drug, I also felt a special connection with my friends who were with me. A feeling of peace completely washed over me, and soon after, I even began to smile and talk to complete strangers. In addition, I became quite aware of the women that were throwing playful looks and smiles in my direction, listening attentively to everything I said. Although I was aware of all of my real-life problems, I also believed that the solutions would soon present themselves, and a newfound optimism flooded from within!

This was also the night that I first became acquainted with Cheryl Williams. It happened while I was talking to a guy named Chuckie, whom I had just met and who had just finished telling me a hilarious joke. During a fit of laughter, my eyes strayed across the room and connected with a very attractive blonde-haired female walking by. My eyes locked onto her face, and I was immediately overwhelmed by her beauty! My laughing immediately stopped, but a small, playful smile lingered upon my face. I was thrilled when she stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face me! As the room was packed, however, other people immediately surged around her, causing her to disappear into the crowd for what felt like an eternity. My smile gradually began to disappear as she failed to resurface....

"Now where is she? _Who_ is she?" I wondered to myself, my smile now completely erased. Then, just as suddenly, she reappeared, still standing in the same spot, still looking at me, but now with a very pretty smile upon her face!

I then heard a voice whisper in my ear, "Go get her, champ! But come back now, ya hear?"

"Are you kidding?" I turned back to Chuckie and laughed out loud while giving him a hug. "She's getting me, bro!" I turned back to the mystery girl who had suddenly rolled into my life and was glad to see that she was still there, and now walking my way! Her face was indeed very soft and pleasant, and her eyes even softer. "It would be very easy to melt into them..." I mused.

With the volume of the music rising, and with the pounding of the deep bass, she was barely audible when she greeted me and said, "Hi, I'm Cheryl!" Cheryl then extended her exquisitely delicate hand. I stared for a moment, dumbfounded.

Chuckie laughed and yelled into my ear, "Well? Talk to her!"

"Hi," I said finally, with a timid smile on my face. Not wanting to appear too timid, however, I gently grasped her hand and drew it over to my lips, simultaneously pulling her body close to mine. I avoided yelling, in order to be as gentlemanly as possible. "I'm Jeb.... It truly is a pleasure to meet you, Cheryl! May we head over into the barroom so we can chat without having to yell?"

"Sure," she answered. "That sounds great!"

"Let me first introduce you, Cheryl, to my new friend, Chuckie," I said. But as I turned around to introduce the two, I noticed that Chuckie had mysteriously vanished!

Suddenly, I felt a tugging upon my hand as Cheryl prompted me to follow her into a quieter section of the bar. While there, we talked for a long time about a great many things, from musical tastes to favorite books, from philosophy to religion. Finally, she asked me if she could give me her phone number, with the stipulation that we remain "just friends," as she had just ended a serious relationship and was still dealing with the emotional repercussions. Of course, I agreed, nodding my head and smiling contentedly. Perhaps from the drugs, or from the feeling of the moment, or both, I began to find myself melting into her eyes again....

Suddenly, I sensed an intrusion into our intimate moment, and I glanced over and noticed a fine-looking brunette walking directly toward me with a big smile on her face! I glanced back at Cheryl, who had followed the movement of my eyes, and fully expected anything from anger to hostility—yet, shockingly, I saw only an expression of delight! Then, unexpectedly, Cheryl ran over to meet the brunette halfway and hugged her. Clasping hands, they walked back over to me.

"Jeb, this is my friend, Jez," Cheryl said, introducing the two of us, "And, Jez, this is my new friend, Jeb!" My initial shock subsided, and the three of us conversed for a short time. After some time, Jez looked at her wristwatch and said, "Cheryl, it's past two o'clock, and we've got church first thing in the morning. We should be heading home now."

"Yeah," Cheryl sighed, "you're right, Jez...but I was having such a wonderful time!"

"Well, all wonderful things must come to an end sooner or later," I replied, somberly.

"Yes, that's very true.... Well, it was nice to meet you, Jeb. Give me a call sometime, okay?" I reached out for her hand and kissed it one more time.

"It was truly a pleasure to meet you, Cheryl," I concluded, "as friends!"

Jez sighed and said, "Ain't he so cute, Cher?"

Cheryl answered, "Yeah...farewell, Jeb!" I stayed in my spot and watched the two disappear into the crowd. But just before they did, both girls turned back to look at me, smiled, and waved a hearty goodbye. I waved back, with an overwhelming feeling of pure joy flooding my interior. They were gone, but the night was far from over—for just after they disappeared, Mickey found me and asked, "Ready for another, brother?"

"Yeah," I replied with a smile.

"You're okay to take this, right?" He hugged me and secretly handed me another pill.

"Yeah," I answered, popping it into my mouth. "Thanks!" And for the rest of the night, I rolled like never before...and never since. I was still rolling at sunrise on the way home from the club, as I watched the dazzling colors begin to fill the morning sky. And then the most beautiful thing occurred—though I had seen it many times before, I had never seen it quite like this—the golden sunrise!

Moments after I got home, I slipped into bed, and for the rest of Sunday, I slept blissfully away. I didn't wake up until sometime after sunset, but I still felt completely drained. I began to recall the previous night's experiences and mustered a lazy smile, which only broadened as I remembered the napkin with Cheryl's phone number on it. But when I checked the pair of black jeans I had worn the night before, the napkin was nowhere to be found! I frantically checked my room, but I couldn't find it anywhere. Fear turned to disappointment as I lost any and all hope of ever talking to her again. Upset and depressed, I fell back into bed and slept the rest of the night away....

The following afternoon, perhaps as an attempt to rebound from the loss of Cheryl, I finally mustered the nerve to ask another food server at McBuck's where Nina was nowadays. He informed me that the previous Thursday had been her final day working there, and that she was now pursuing a career in modeling. I was most disappointed that I would not have the opportunity to apologize for my rude behavior.

After lunch, I headed back to the library to see if _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ had been returned. I was quite happy to discover that it had indeed been returned. This time I prepared for the arctic climate of the library and wore a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, just in case. After heading over to the religions shelf, I scanned it and found what I was looking for. I pulled the thin book off the shelf and stared at the white cover for a minute.

There was nothing on the cover except the fancy red lettering declaring its title, _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ , and the name of the author, Sir Henry Bateman. From the thickness of it, I would have called it less a book than a pamphlet, as its contents spanned only 111 pages. As I flipped through the pages backward, from the end to the beginning, I caught brief glances at the contents, and by the time I had reached the first page, I found my heart racing with excitement! After rushing back to my chair, I commenced to read.

[[The Forbidden Fruit: Chapter 1

Greetings, my reader...and welcome! Behold, as I lead you towards the greatest absolute microcosmic Truth ever revealed to mankind within this ultimately absolute macrocosmic universe! Yes, my reader, there are in fact other beings, entities, and dimensions that coexist among us ordinary human beings! The generic titles for them are spirits, ghosts, demons, angels, "fourth dimension," and "sixth sense!" But I prefer to call them, simply, "beings"—beings that always bear a message, in one form or another!

Now some of these beings exist for the cause of evil—some are very mean...and some are incredibly cruel...and some are astounding liars...and some are extremely deceitful...and some are radically hungry for your body and your soul...and some are ultimately evil, seeking dominion over the world and its inhabitants!

Now, there are also beings that exist for the cause of good—some are very friendly...and others are incredibly helpful...and others are astounding teachers...and others are extremely truthful...and others are radically fulfilling for your body and your soul...and others are ultimately good, seeking to benefit the world and its inhabitants!

Yet, once again, all beings bear some message or another—you don't want to get the two mixed up, even accidentally! This is the very problem that we all must face, once awakened, and that comes with our inability to "discern" correctly, meaning "to perceive or recognize clearly." But, as a great sage of the past once said, "Test the spirits!"

But what is most unfair for you, my reader, is the fact that these beings are currently engaged in our lives and will be doing so until our death! Additionally, they have been manipulating or assisting us since birth. It has been this way since the beginning of time and will continue to be so until the end of existence! Most adults deny this notion, but the beings in question are, for the most part, unseen (and not believed when they _are_ seen) and not recognized for what and who they really are—and for what they really want with us!

The reason for this shortcoming on our part is that these beings dwell outside of our five mundane senses...and only within the reach of the _sixth_ sense! The existence of this sixth sense has been traditionally shunned by society's practices and teachings—and thus, our ability to perceive the supernatural has become clouded, indeed entirely blinded! But what is becoming ever clearer is the truism, "Just because you can't see it, that doesn't mean that it isn't there!"

On the other hand, _children_ , as opposed to adults, typically have a very open mind toward things of a spiritual nature. And as has been suggested by a great sage of the past, "Lest be ye as little children, ye shall never enter into the Kingdom of God!"

Therefore, the first approach should always be the positive and open-minded one. Consider these questions:

1) Do you wonder whether you have a greater purpose here on this planet, greater than just mere existence?

2) Have you ever been aware that you are not really alone? Have you ever been visited by spirits, ghosts, demons, angels, or experienced some other type of paranormal visitation?

3) Have you ever had a glimpse into something or visited some place that you disbelieved, or were forced to disbelieve, later, such as déjà vu, or another plane of existence?

4) And finally, are you ready to handle the greatest Truths, the very secrets of the universe? The very Truths that will grant you the keys to control of your own destiny? The very Truths that will awaken you to the wonders and horrors around you? The very Truths that will allow you to command them, as the great sages of the past once did?

If so, my reader, then continue reading! If there is but one "No" to the above questions, however, then stop! For it would be better to remain an ignorant fool than to become an educated fool and lead others astray through your follies! Yet, to become a wise man is beyond all words and doubts, ultimately!]]

I sat there considering the questions. As for question #1, I had always wondered about that. As for question #2, I remembered having seen a ghost at the age of five. I remember having been sleeping, only to be awakened by a tickling sensation on the bottom of my feet. When I opened my eyes, I saw a woman there, luminescent and transparent at the same time. She had smiled at me, and strangely, I had not been afraid. However, when I informed my parents about the event, they told me that it was a demon of Satan trying to coerce and deceive me. After that experience, I began to fear the supernatural.

As for question #3, I knew that I'd experienced déjà vu several times. I did think it would be pretty cool to go to another dimension, however! I then pondered the phrase "forced to disbelieve" for a moment—I knew that I had been forced to believe the doomsday philosophies from my parents. And as the years passed, my fears of the supernatural persisted, despite my parents' death, for the seeds of doubt and negativity had already been planted.

As I pondered over question #4, I doubted that I was ready to handle the secrets of the universe since it was obvious that I couldn't even handle my own life yet! And at that moment, I realized, while sitting in my spot at the library, that negativity truly did govern my life. But I read the final sentence of the introduction again and decided at that moment that I wanted to rid my life of the negativity, to become a wise man, and not an educated fool. Thus, I continued to read.

[[Behold, My Reader! Here is where everything ends, and yet nothing begins: LOGIC! It is the root of all things. Logic is commonly known as the way of reasoning through the workings of cause and effect; in other words, identifying, relating, and relaying between friends and foes, predators and prey. Logic begins from day one; that is, from the parents. From the applications of that logic throughout life, certain THEORIES form—theories, meaning "a formulation of underlying principles of certain observed phenomena which have been verified to some degree," or in layman's terms, "tested applications of logic"! In other words, through the neighboring children, the schoolmates, the boyfriend or girlfriend, the husband or wife, the son or daughter!

Many theories, after many tested applications, are eventually elevated in grade to the rank of SCIENCE! And the theories that don't make the grade are discarded. Science officially means "systematized knowledge derived from observation, study, etc.," or, in layman's terms, "the way of things." But there is one term that Scientists will NEVER use! There is one point that Scientists will NEVER cross! And that term is none other than...TRUE SCIENCE, A.K.A. THE ABSOLUTE WAY OF THINGS! Because there are no absolutes in Science, or so it is traditionally thought! And traditional, meaning "of, handed down by, or conforming to this way," has not always meant progressive, meaning "moving forward, continuing by successive steps, of or favoring progress, reform, etc."

Yes, it is true that the laws of Logic cannot be abolished, for it is a part of the game we are forced to play...but there is also a counterstrategy to be found within this game, and that can be found in its dualistic counterpart, FANTASY!

Fantasy means "imagination or fancy." Once properly learned, fantasy can help one to transcend all limitations, hindrances, and obstacles that have impeded one's path. The definition of transcend, of course, is "to go beyond the limits of." In other words, it can also help one to create new laws of Logic!

And LOGIC also means "correct reasoning, or the science of this," or what I personally classify as "that which will assist one toward either the impending tribulations or eternal glories throughout Life, since Birth, and until Death"! And as has been confirmed by a great sage of the past, 'The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams...' is a TRUISM!

In fact, this is our official definition of True Science—or, as we typically call it, ABSOLUTE WILL! In this quest for Absolute Will, we shall soon discover there to be a constant war being fought within our minds. The barriers are great and the paths are few. To combat this, we use Magic.

Francois Pierre, a famous seventeenth-century French Rosicrusianist, had many classifications for this word, "Magic." What we find to be the most important are the first three: (1) "Natural magic, a most occult and secret subdivision of physics that allows the natural substances to be utilized for the inherent mystical properties contained"; (2) "Mathematical magic, that which permits adepts in the art to assemble splendid machines through their geometrical know how"; (3) "Venefic magic, the exacting knowledge to create potions, concoctions, and even poisons, for specific medicinal purposes."

By my personal classification of the word, Magic is the force that attacks and then destroys any and all obstacles which limit our true potential or will. Magic was also the delicious fruit tempted to Eve, by the serpent, so that we may learn and know how to transmute this force to those other planes of existence, beyond the normal scope of our five ravaged senses! In other words, the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is MAGIC, the true beginnings of logic, A.K.A. the sixth sense!

A change has recently occurred within the occult world, a change that was expounded upon by the infamous twentieth-century mage, Vladimir Vicacious. To understand the impact of this recent breakthrough, V.V. writes in his book entitled _The Inherent Key_ : "Since the beginning of humankind's history, the term "magic" has generally been misunderstood and incomplete. For example, stage performers have traditionally adopted this term for the purposes of entertainment, and through the art of producing illusions by sleight of hand, they have caused magic to become known as "illusory" or "unreal" to the public.

However, True or High Magic is no illusion and is not only Actual and Absolute, but Divine! Once this Awesome Force is fully understood and properly applied, the most extraordinary and wonderful results are produced, though it shall appear to the ignorant and to the mainstream of civilization to be purely coincidental anomalies from the Divine! In truth they are only partially correct, as it is through our occultic powers that we become linked with the Divine and learn the exact times of their arrivals!

Therefore, a distinction must be made to separate the illusion from the actual. And this distinction can be found through the Kabbalah, an esoteric Hebraic system of numbers and symbols, specifically believed to contain the "mysteries" behind Creation, Truth, and the Creator. The Kabbalah teaches us that the letter "K" or "Kether" actually means "Dwelling place of God!" And to confirm this, it is revealed through ancient and mystical parables that "high magic occurs within the heavens themselves!"

Thus, the distinction is confirmed by simply adding the letter "K" to magic; now the fully understood and completed term of—MagicK!" In other words, the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is Magic, the true beginning of logic. The fruit from the Tree of Life is Magick, the completion of science. They are the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, thus ultimately allowing the establishment of the Sunnum Bonum, A.K.A. True Wisdom and Perfect Happiness, to fill our souls....

As it is written: "Then the Lord God said, 'Behold, the man has become like one of Us, to know good and evil. And now, lest he put out his hand and take also of the Tree of Life, and eat and live forever!' Therefore, the Lord God sent him out of the Garden of Eden to till the ground from which he was taken. So He drove out the man; and He placed Cherubim at the East of the Garden of Eden, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to guard the way to the Tree of Life." Amen!

And as has been written, "And they sang a new song, saying: 'You are worthy to take the scroll, and to open its seals; for You were slain, and have redeemed us to God by Your blood, out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation, and have made us kings and priests to our God; and we shall reign on the Earth..." Amen!

How to begin: Your basis of Logic can be unveiled by creating a journal of your inmost thoughts and desires. Analyze your writings with assuaged persistence and your answers shall soon become evident!

Finally: Begin chapter II only when you are truly ready to witness the Truth, the secrets of the universe, and to behold the very face of your God and still live!]]

I hardly understood any of what was written in the chapter, but I figured that if I read it again, perhaps with a dictionary beside me, I could figure it all out later. Thus, I decided to check the book out.

As I walked home, I began to yearn desperately for the forbidden fruit! Suddenly, a new thought popped into my head—perhaps I should get a notebook and start recording my innermost thoughts and feelings, so as to put my life in order. And then, another idea popped up—perhaps I should also put together a resume in order to get a better job, one that might actually lead to a career and a betterment of my life. I could ask my brother, Peter, to help me put it all together.

"Yes," I concluded by the time I got to work, "I will give him a call tomorrow—the first day of my newly ordered life!" As luck would have it, a customer came into the store that night and just happened to have a half-ounce of marijuana for sale, at a steal—and it was indeed some good stuff, I found out later, after getting back home from work and going out to my little hiding spot. I then tried to read _Magick_ back in my room but found it impossible, for I was way too high....

I woke up around noon or so the following day, still without an alarm clock that worked. I decided to fulfill one commitment from the previous day, however—I headed down to the lobby, patiently waited for my turn on the pay phone, and dialed my brother's number. Christine picked up the phone.

"Hello," she said in that crisp voice of hers.

"Hey, Christine, it's Jeb. How are you doing?"

"Doing well, I suppose," she responded, somewhat coldly. "Yourself?"

"You know...living the crazy life!" I answered sarcastically.

"You know," she began to chastise, "you should try to take some responsibility for yourself..." I hated it when she did that!

"Listen," I interrupted, "we can talk about this later. Is Pete home?"

"Well..." She sounded a bit irritated by my interruption. "He is.... He's mowing the backyard now."

"Can I please talk to him?" I asked.

"Hold on one minute, Jeb...." She put the phone down, and I waited several minutes, dropping another dollar in change down the machine.

"Fortunately, no one else is here in line waiting to use the phone!" I mused, after looking behind me to check. Just as I was about to lose my patience with Christine, Peter picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Pete, what's up, bro?" I asked, with false calmness in my voice.

"Nothing much," he answered. "You?"

"Actually, I need your help. Do you have a couple of hours you could spare?"

"For what?" he asked dubiously.

"Well, I want to get a resume put together...I've decided it's time for a change of profession," I said, excitement building within me. "Can you please help me?"

"Sure thing, little brother!" Peter said. Though I could not see his face, the tone of his voice suggested that he might be smiling. "When can you be over here?"

"Actually, I don't have a car. Can you come pick me up?" I asked.

"I have to finish mowing the lawn, which will take me another half hour or so," he answered.

"Do you know where I live?" I asked.

"No," he answered. "Wait—you still living on the east side of McCurrn?"

"Yeah," I said, "but just pick me up at the McBuck's on Laraway! You know where that's at?"

"Yeah....I'll be there as soon as I can. See ya then!"

"Later, bro!" I concluded.

Just as I was about to set the phone on the hook, I heard him yell out, "Hey!"

"What?" I asked, after I put the receiver back to my ear.

"Do you...got any smoke?" he asked. I knew exactly what he meant. Actually, he was in luck.

"How much?" I asked.

"Uh...twenty-five cents." That was his code word for a quarter-ounce of marijuana.

"Sure thing!" I exclaimed. "See ya soon."

"Bye, Jeb," he concluded. I hung up the phone, ran to my "spot" to retrieve my sack, and then headed over to the joint for lunch. After eating, I began reading through the classified section of a _Chicago Times_ that someone had left behind, circling job ads that I thought might be attainable. After finishing with the job ads, I read about current affairs in the world, followed by the comics and, finally, my horoscope. In typically noncommittal fashion, it said, "Today is a new day for you. And so will be tomorrow! Think like this and you shall succeed! A Sagittarius will cross your path to help you begin."

"Pete isn't a Sagittarius," I thought. "He's a Taurus, born on May sixteenth...so who is the lucky Sagittarius?" My eyes strayed to the clock, noting that it was almost two o'clock, almost an hour and a half since I had talked to my brother. Just as I was starting to get a little antsy, Peter finally arrived, plopping himself into the seat across from mine.

He looked exactly the same since I had seen him last, with that wavy brown hair and jet blue eyes. Peter had always loved to work out, and you could see the size on him through his clothes. And he was still really good-looking, in my opinion. But that was not only my opinion—from what I had heard from the few friends that I had in school with older sisters that were Peter's age, he had been quite the player in high school. Unfortunately, with his schooling, his career, and then his own family, he had never had time to teach me how to pick up girls!

After studying me for a minute in the booth, he finally asked, "Are you ready to go, little bro?"

"Yep...let's go!" I took my last slurp of cola while sliding out of the booth. After dumping the empty cup into the garbage can next to the door, we proceeded out of the restaurant and into the parking lot. I asked, "Which ride is yours?" He smiled at me, then pointed towards a sporting red Bronson pickup truck in the corner spot.

"That would be her," he sighed.

"Nice," I declared with envy.

"Yep," he said. "Just got my baby." And as we approached his baby, I heard a beeping sound emanating from it. I glanced over at Pete to see him aiming his key ring at the truck. I watched as he pushed another button, and heard the clicking sounds of the doors as they unlocked. And with the push of yet another button, the windows opened automatically.

"How many functions does that gizmo hold?" I wondered aloud.

"Lots," Peter answered, with a beaming smile. "Lots...." After Peter opened the driver's side door, I opened mine and hopped into the charcoal interior. The smell of the brand-new interior hit me—I loved that smell! As I sank into the soft leather seats, I glanced over at his dashboard. Buttons and gadgets were just about everywhere. As Peter started the engine, I heard nothing but a soft purr. Lights blinked in a dozen different areas, including his CD player.

"Now," he whispered excitedly, as he turned to look out of the darkly tinted rear windows, "Wait'll you see the power of this baby!" He shifted into reverse and barely pushed the pedal, and the truck began to roar. After stopping and shifting into first gear, he accelerated again, and the tires squealed against the hot asphalt. I looked over at Peter in envy—I could tell that he thoroughly enjoyed his big toy! Or should I say, toys? After all, he also had his successful corporation, his house, his wife Christine, and his two little girls, Ashley and Alexis, whom I had only seen twice.

"Pete...I want to be where you're at. I'm sick of being poor!" I began.

"Hey, Jeb," he said with a smile, and turned to look at me. "Now you have the right attitude about things.... Listen." He paused for a moment. "The first step on the road to change is acknowledging that you need to change in the first place. We all make mistakes; we all screw up. Even though you may have fallen a thousand times, you need to pick yourself up a thousand and one times."

"Yeah, but—"

"But nothing," Peter interrupted. "Listen...you should quit waiting till the last minute to begin doing things."

"Pete," I answered, "you know how Dad and Mom were. They never paid any attention to us, except to stuff religion down our throats. What inspiration did they give me in my life? None!" By then, I could feel my inner turmoil growing. My mind drifted back to my mom's last words to me: "Everything happens by the will of God. You just need to accept this and accept Jesus into your life!"

"I know how they were," Peter said, as he faded back in, "but they didn't see the whole truth about what's out there. They only allowed the things that they wanted to see to come into their life!"

"I know," I said.

"The important point is, Jeb, that you need to believe in yourself first," he concluded. "If you don't, then no one else will, either!" He glanced over at me, noticing that I was pretty shaken up. Tears had tried to form in my eyes, but I wiped them away quickly, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Hey now," Peter said, "today is a new day! We'll get that resume put together and smoke a little bud—you got it, right?"

"Yeah, I got it." I chuckled a little, even though I didn't feel too happy.

"Oh!" He laughed, remembering something. "Listen to this!" I looked over to see him pushing a button on the steering wheel. The CD player turned on and I noticed that the selection numbers were going down. The track number stopped at number one, and after a second, I heard Fizzy Biff scream out the words, "I need to know that you needed me...before I lose my grasp on reality! Oooohhhh!"

"All right!" I screamed above the noise of the guitar now blasting through the speakers. We listened to heavy metal jams all the way back to his house in Naperbrook, or—as I liked to call the place—Yuppiebrook. After we arrived, we got out and walked to the front door of his luxurious two-story house. Just after entering, my two nieces, Ashley and Alexis, came running from around the corner and up to me, leaped into my arms at the same time, and squealed happily, "Uncle Jeb!" I was almost knocked onto the floor, but I caught myself just before the tumble.

Surprised that they remembered me, I kissed each of them on the cheek and asked, "How you doing, girls?"

"Fine!" they responded simultaneously. The girls were identical twins, born two minutes apart, with long blonde hair and baby blue eyes. It was my opinion that these girls would be heartbreakers when they grew up—they were six-year-old sweethearts even now.

It was then that I noticed Christine standing in the entrance between the living room and the dining room, her hair a little disheveled, but otherwise prim, as always. It was obvious that the twins had received their looks from their mom. Although she probably still considered me to be the scum of the earth and a bad influence on Peter, she somehow managed to muster a semi-pleasant greeting.

"How are you doing, Jeb?"

"Pretty good, thanks," I answered.

"So..." she said, with a bit of curiosity, "you want to put a resume together?"

"Yeah," I responded. "I want to get myself a little more stabilized, improve my financial situation."

"Well," she said, "that's good...good for you! I hope you succeed." She paused, with a look of remembrance crossing her face. "Girls, you ready to go to soccer practice?"

"Yes, Mommy!" they said at the same time. The girls then gave me a kiss, one on each cheek. I found the synchronization of their behavior a little strange. After hopping out of my arms, they looked at me and asked, in unison, "Are you going to stay for dinner?" I glanced over at Christine, wondering.

"Sure," she answered for me. "Of course your Uncle Jeb will stay for dinner!"

"Yay!" they squealed excitedly. "Bye, Uncle Jeb...bye Daddy!" The girls then ran past Christine and into the open garage door just beyond the dining room. Christine followed them and closed the door behind her.

"Hold on just a second, Jeb," Peter instructed. We waited for a moment in silence and listened as the garage door opened, an engine started to life in the garage, and the van drifted out of the garage. Seconds later, the garage door could be heard squealing shut. Peter then headed into the dining room and asked excitedly, "Now! Where's that bud at?"

We smoked that afternoon while working on the resume. Sometimes I found it amazing how creative one could get while one was high. Later that evening, after having eaten dinner and deciding to call it a night, Peter drove me back to the halfway house, back to my "home." By the time we arrived in the parking lot, I was depressed about the fact that I had to come back to this hellhole—but what other choice did I have? Christine had expressly forbidden my ever living there again.

Peter, as if reading my mind, said, "You know I'd let you live with us if I could, Jeb." I didn't say anything but nodded in understanding. After a few seconds, Peter pulled out his wallet and said, "Hey, little brother, I've been thinking about this since you came over this afternoon, and I have an idea—a gift, really...." He then opened his wallet, pulled all the cash out of it, and said, "Here's fifteen hundred and twenty-five dollars for you to get yourself a nice used vehicle and whatever else you need to get started."

I had never seen that much money before. Looking at that fat wad of money almost made me drool. But I shook my head and replied, "You know I can't take that!"

"Nonsense!" Peter snapped. "You need it. Look at this as the little break before your big break!"

"Are you sure, Pete?" I asked.

Nodding his head with a gleam in his eyes, he answered emphatically, "Darned right, I'm sure!"

He slapped the money into my extended hand and I said, "Thanks, big brother!"

He chuckled, rubbed his big hand through my hair, ruffling it up, and said, "Now, you go make something of yourself!"

I went, and the following day, I got up early and took the bus to the mall. I purchased a new alarm clock, a watch, a nice two-piece suit, a white oxford shirt, and a nice pair of black shoes to match my suit. The last thing that I purchased that day was a translucent green pager, since I didn't have a phone of my own, so that potential employers could now reach me "twenty-four-seven!"

The next day, I purchased a _McCurrn Herald_ newspaper and flipped through the classifieds during breakfast. Under the category of "$750 or less," I found an '81 Malibu Lopar two-door sedan for sale. The ad said that the car was in fair condition but with moderate rust. I spent the rest of that day at the DMV, waiting in long lines and studying for the driver's test. After acing both the written and driving parts of the test—I had to borrow Terence's vehicle for it—I finally received my first driver's license.

The following morning, I called the number in the ad for the Lopar. An elderly lady answered the phone and I agreed to meet her in an hour—fortunately, she lived in McCurrn. It wasn't a beautiful car by any stretch of the imagination, but it did seem to run well, despite the fact that it hadn't been garage-kept. Although the asking price was $750, I was able to talk her down to $650.

After paying for the car and then purchasing insurance from the local agency, I had a little more than fifty dollars left. This, I considered my job search fund; with it, I bought the _McCurrn Herald_ day after day in search of new job ads. With my regular job, plus the thirty or so hours a week spent looking through the paper and calling up potential employers, I worked more than sixty hours a week. By the end of each day, I was too exhausted to read _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ —I hadn't even started the second chapter, let alone revisited the first with a dictionary.

A couple of weeks later, I finally returned _Magick_ to the library, with an overdue fee of $3.50. I then started looking for temp agencies, still with no success. I was going for a clerical position, as I could type more than sixty words a minute, a skill I had learned in an extracurricular class at the juvenile correctional facility, but I had no computer skills. With still another month passing by, and with no word from the latest temp agency, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be a Kwikee Food Mart Clerk forever for, despite my new professional appearance, the same thing was said to me over and over again: "Sorry, kid...no job training, not enough education, and no experience." By then, my outlook was bleak. But despite all the negativity, I refused to give up!

It was then that I decided to try the McCurrn mall for a job. In three days, I must have hit three-fourths of all the stores there, going from one store to the next, filling out and submitting job applications. On the third day, I walked into a store called the Specialized Nutrition Center, and when I approached the counter, I ran into none other than Cheryl! She recognized me instantly and uttered my name with a gasp and a stunned look on her face. She then asked me why I hadn't called her, and I explained my story to her.

"I swear to God that I lost your phone number the very night we met. You have no idea how tormenting it was for me, especially after having met someone like you! I'm sorry..." My frustrated expression must have convinced her of my sincerity, and she smiled.

"You're forgiven!" After several minutes of general conversation, I soon ventured to ask if I could have a second chance with that mysterious number. She agreed with a friendly laugh, and as she wrote down the number, I set my application on the counter and asked her if she could give it to the manager for review. She assured me before I left that she would deliver it to him with a positive comment.

The following day, I received a page—it was my brother's work number. When he picked up the phone, Peter informed me that he had some exciting news to deliver: An opening had come up in the shipping department of Telexia, and he had already submitted my resume to his boss! He warned me that the hiring process could take some time, and he reminded me to remain patient, but I was so excited to hear the news that I screamed in utter joy!

Near the end of August, I went through two different interviews with Telexia. My interviews didn't seem to go too badly, and I remained optimistic. Also around that time, Cheryl invited me to her church in Willow Park. On my second visit there, I discovered, with surprise, that the shrilly lady from the McBuck's attended the church, too, but she didn't recognize me with my new haircut and nice clothes. I really didn't relish the idea of setting foot in church again, but the afternoons Cheryl and I got to spend together afterward made it all worth it. Our friendship blossomed rapidly, but I kept my feelings in check and let it remain in that phase, out of respect for Cheryl.

On the eleventh of September, I received a call from Telexia and was informed that I got the job! However, I would be hired only after I passed a urinalysis test first. On the fourteenth of September, I took the test, but I must confess that I was a little worried for, despite the fact that I had used a urine test cleaner the night before, I couldn't be sure of its effectiveness. Terence had scared me with rumors about new tests that were strong enough to override cleaning solutions. But I decided to "think progressive!"

## Chapter II

The Voices of Temptation

On the twenty-first of September, Cheryl and I spent a long and exciting Sunday together. Following the morning church service, I took her on a surprise picnic lunch in the local forest preserve. She was quite thrilled, as no one had ever taken her on a surprise picnic before—or any picnic, for that matter—and to be honest, I was genuinely surprised, and somewhat heartened, to hear that. After the picnic, we grabbed root beer floats from a local ice cream shop, and then went miniature golfing next door. Cheryl then drove us back to her condominium. Neither of us said anything during the trip; we just silently listened to the radio.

While observing the neighborhoods as we passed them by, I remember thinking to myself, "Cheryl and I are two of a kind, and in so many ways! We look at life, philosophy, and love in almost exactly the same way. She's somebody who actually understands my feelings, except the ones that I hide from her so that our friendship won't be spoiled...."

Before any feelings could intrude into my thoughts, I realized that we had turned onto her street and slowed to a stop in front of her condo. After getting out of her car and walking up the sidewalk, I observed that the sun was sinking, setting the dusky sky on fire with an array of beautiful colors.

"Isn't that a beautiful sight?" I asked Cheryl, gesturing toward the brilliance.

"Yes." She sighed, throwing one of her soft smiles at me. "It sure is...."

After a minute or so of silently gazing at the sky, we headed inside. I flung myself down onto her couch as she made herself comfortable in the loveseat. As we sat there relaxing, again in silence, my mind revisited an idea that had been shelved for a while—writing my very own fantasy novel! I had written only a few pages some time ago and had hit a severe snag, as I had run out of ideas, but the desire and the inspiration began to build within me and was actually gaining steam through my newfound happiness with Cheryl. But could I show her my work? I had not had the courage to show anyone up to this point.

As I thought of Cheryl, inspiration welled up within me, and before my mind could suppress it, I blurted out, "Did you know that I am a writer? Or...I should say...trying to be one?"

"No, I didn't," Cheryl answered thoughtfully. But after a moment's pause, she asked excitedly, "What kind of writer are you? Did you ever have a book or poem published?"

"Um...I'm a fiction writer, and no, I haven't had anything published yet—I've only written a few pages down so far, and I've already completely run out of ideas, unsure of how to go on with my new story! I kind of have this writer's block going on now, but I think that what I've written is actually pretty good."

"I'll bet!" she responded with a sweet smile. Once again, I noticed how easy it was to melt into those soft eyes of hers.

"Sometimes it gets really frustrating," I continued, trying to veer my mind away from her and back to the subject at hand, "because I remember that when I was a kid, I had an awesome imagination! I could write whole books in my head, but now when I try, I blank out after several pages."

"Yes, I know what you mean," she interjected. "But it's not easy for anyone to write a page, much less a whole book! At least you've already done that, even if it was a long time ago...and even if it was just in your head!" I liked the way she emphasized the word "whole." Just the tone of her voice seemed to open up a whole new world to me. I glanced again at her inquisitively. She laughed softly, asking, "What are you looking at, mister?"

"Uh," I answered, turning my head to look at the ground.

"Hmm?" she said coyly.

"Nothing," I mumbled. Changing the subject back to writing once again, I said, "Oh, yes, about my skills as a writer...I could tell you more about it, or...."

"Or?" she said only a few seconds later, while raising an eyebrow.

"Or," I concluded with a sigh, "I could let you read what I've already written!"

She gasped slightly. "You'd let little ole _me_ read your work?"

"She's definitely a sexy one," I mused. "Sure, if you'd like," I said aloud. "Hold on one sec—I'll be right back!" As I walked out to my Lopar, I noticed that the sun had already set and darkness had covered the land. I was desperately hoping that I had left the notebook in the car and not at the store!

While at work the night before, I had read through it, hoping to spawn some new ideas, but with no success. And just as Al and I were changing shifts, about thirty people came into the store, all at once—we had to hurry with our shift change so that we could give them service, and by the time that mess was over, I had completely forgotten about the notebook! Tonight, I was a little fearful that I had left it at the store. As I ruffled through the darkened car (there were no interior lights), sifting through the mess for the missing notebook, I thought to myself, "It's got to be here...."

Just as I was losing hope, I discovered the lost notebook, hidden underneath a fast-food breakfast container! I ran back inside and laid the notebook before Cheryl. As she glanced from the closed notebook to me, I could sense her eagerness to read my story. She opened it and began to read, and while she read, my eyes darted back and forth between the story and her eyes. Shameless in my eagerness, I attempted to guess what part of the story she was reading from the expressions on her face.

[[...The group of elves, and one human, had decided to camp for the evening. After they had stopped for the evening, Trendon had cast an alarm spell, which would cause his ears to ring should anyone enter into their circle of forty feet. Anyone within that parameter when the spell had been cast was exempt from setting it off. Trendon accompanied these elves, for he was a sell-sword by trade, but he also practiced minor forms of magic. For these two reasons, his kind was in demand. He left notices in all of the local taverns, advertising his desire for employment in the city of Harrnsforte.

He had met up with the group of elves several days ago in one such bar, The Rusty Dagger. While there, they had given him the following bits of information: First, that they had one stretch of their journey left to go, a dangerous two-week stretch from Harrnsforte back to an Elven City, with very precious cargo; second, that their magic user had been killed in a fight with goblins that had attempted to raid the elves about three days prior; third, that Trendon would be required to help provide guard on this wagon during their trip against possible future attacks; and finally, that he would be paid the sum of 50,000 gold pieces for his labor—with no questions as to the contents of the wagon. Of course, he agreed, but his curiosity started to get the best of him, as he wondered what kind of cargo would need so many protective measures. He waited till midnight, and then decided to get up for his shift. There was only one elf up, guarding the entrance to the wagon.

"Boy..." Trendon yawned, "I'm having trouble getting to sleep!"

"Well that's good, because you'll be on shift in a few minutes," the guard retorted, with no effort to conceal his natural disdain for the lowly human.

"Just because I am a human is no right to give disrespect," Trendon replied.

Before the guard had a chance to reply, the alarm spell did go off! Trendon alone heard the ringing within his head from the alarm spell he had secretly cast. The spell would only go off if someone else left or entered the camp.

"Wake everyone up!" Trendon hissed to the guard. "Quietly—there's someone or something here!"

The guard's eyes went wide, but he headed over to his captain as quietly as possible. While his captain quickly got up, the guard looked into the distance for a second, and then his face contorted into hatred. The word "Darklings!" escaped from his lips in a scream, alerting the whole encampment. Darkling gnomes were also known as the subterranean gnomes and were known for their dark practices, customs, and skin color. All of the surface elves hated the darklings, for evil was an abomination to the elves and to be destroyed.

A volley of arrows shot out of the darkness and into the crowd of elves. The guard who had screamed received three arrows in his throat, and the hateful look on his face died with him. The other elves had now scrambled under their medium-sized shields to protect themselves.

Trendon, who had been near the wagon, scrambled underneath it for cover, just barely evading the volley of arrows. He cast the spell, Shield, using the spidery words of magic that would protect him from all normal weapons. It took him half a minute to finish the incantation. Crawling back out from under the wagon, Trendon looked around. From out of the corner of his eye, he turned to see a darkling emerging from the looming darkness. This gnome bore a nasty scar on his left cheekbone, not to mention a large two-handed sword that glowed red—which meant magic!

"Damn!" Trendon thought to himself. He began chanting again, this time the arcane words of a magic missile spell. The darkling gnome was now almost in striking distance and had already begun to raise his sword. Just before the sword came down, three glowing blue orbs appeared near Trendon's head. With a quick point of his finger, one of the orbs shot forward and exploded in his attacker's face. Fortunately, the darkling's sword missed, but unfortunately, it flew from his hands and sank hilt-deep into a nearby tree. Just as quickly and quietly as the darklings had come, so did they disappear back into the night.

Once Trendon saw that the coast was clear—if but for a moment or two—he ran for the tree with the magical sword buried in it. It mattered not how hard he pulled, nor what incantations he chanted—the sword would not budge! Finally giving up, he drew his own short sword, assumed a defensive position, and quickly glanced around. Fortunately there was no sign of any darklings. He noted that his troops had surrounded their precious wagon, still guarding it with arrows and swords drawn; however, he counted only a dozen of the original eighteen still alive!

At first, all remained quiet, as several moments passed with nothing happening. However, the tension was clearly in the air....

After what seemed an eternity, they came out from the dark—darkling invaders everywhere, with bloodlust in their eyes! Trendon knew they were outnumbered, but he began to look for their leader in an attempt to destroy their morale.

He didn't get that far, as Trendon pointed with his finger again, and the second orb slammed into a darkling's chest. The darkling, in turn, slammed into a tree. Most of the darklings were avoiding Trendon, preferring to take their hated enemies out first. Yet one came for Trendon, wielding a pointy stiletto that also hinted of magic. He lunged at Trendon, but only Trendon's cape received the jab. Trendon slammed into the darkling, burying his short sword deep within the gnome's gut. A look of surprise crossed the gnome's face as he attempted to cry out in anger, but only blood gurgled from his mouth. Twisting to the side, Trendon's sword found the midsection of another darkling gnome nearby. Thank the gods, Trendon thought, for something magical! Trendon rolled over the dying darkling and grabbed the stiletto.

Now realizing that Trendon was a serious threat, six darklings then turned to take him out. An idea crossed Trendon's mind, and he cautiously headed back to the wagon. He wasn't worried about these darklings because his shield spell was still in activation. The darklings tried to attack him, but with no success, as their swords bounced harmlessly off the invisible barrier.

Trendon's curiosity began to swell about the contents of the wagon....This attack was planned, he noted to himself, for the now very mysterious cargo! Having almost reached the wagon, he tried to count those who were still alive and saw only four elves left, including the captain. Trendon knew that he had only a little time left before this battle was lost! He pulled out of his shirt a sparkling emerald bearing a magic symbol, and began chanting. Within seconds, a fireball shot out and demolished the group of darklings that had been closing in on him—their bodies burned to a crisp within moments!

Fighting his way around, he plunged his newly-found stiletto into those darkling gnomes unfortunate enough to get into his way. He surveyed his surroundings in the meantime and noticed a female darkling with a scorpion's tail-whip floating toward the wagon from another direction. He chanted the fireball spell again and pointed the emerald toward the female. The fireball issued forth from the emerald and shot toward her...he could hear her shrill laughter as it struck her with no effect!

Trendon glanced back toward the wagon, which was still ten feet away—the captain was fighting against eight darklings himself. He was in a losing battle, but Trendon somehow knew that this elf would never give up. In confirmation, the captain gave a mighty battle cry and charged into the midst of his assailants. He took two of them out with one swing of his long sword, only to have his own head swiped off by still another darkling! The battle was lost, but Trendon had to know what was in that wagon! He ran over to the wagon, plowing over two darklings who were in his way. He rolled over them and then proceeded to fumble around in his pocket for a pouch of sulfur. Squeezing it tightly into his palm, he prepared his jump onto the wagon. After crouching on the ground, he leaped into the air. Barely catching the wagon's side rails, he slid himself over onto the top. Once there, he saw that he was completely surrounded by gnomes. Hundreds of evil darkling faces looked up at him with hatred in their eyes. Yet, realizing him to be the last serious threat, they approached him slowly and cautiously.

Trendon quickly pulled out a small sack out from a waist bag that he carried and held it up. Before the darklings had reached the wagon, the female darkling gnome had already made her way to the front of the ranks and shouted, in perfect Common, "Surrender, human bug, or you will be squashed like a bug and die!"

Trendon responded confidently to her, declaring, "Come any closer and this wagon will be blown to bits—and we'll all end up going straight to hell!"

"Haa—what in the world are you talking about? You're bluffing!" she screamed.

"I have a highly explosive powder within this sack," Trendon explained, while lightly shaking the bag. "And I also have the spell on my tongue to set it off!"

A language that he had never heard before was spoken from her lips. For the first time, he noticed what a beauty she was underneath all that evil, except for her teeth that were pointy and sharp! What she had said was apparently intended for her troops to stop, for that is exactly what they did.

"What is it that you want, human?" she asked in Common. Trendon paused for a second before responding. "Well?!" she screamed.

"Okay," Trendon said, "the first thing I want you to do is to learn some manners. You can't expect to get any respect from anyone with a temper like that!" Uh-oh, he thought. Now, I've done it! She looked like she was about to explode for a second, but then she controlled herself.

"Okay," she answered, and then in a seductive tone she asked, "What else?"

"The next thing that I will need is a magical item with flight capabilities," Trendon replied.

"My, my," she said, impressed. "You are quite clever, particularly for a human."

"And last but not least...I need a magical item with invisibility functions," Trendon concluded.

"What makes you...," she paused for a second, then continued, "...think that the wagon is worth really all that much to us, anyway?"

"Because," Trendon said with a slight smile, "this was a planned attack." He wondered for a minute whether he might actually make it out of this predicament alive. The female darkling also paused, weighing the odds for a bluff. The other darklings still did as their leader had commanded, not moving an inch. "But you all didn't count on me being here, either," he said smugly.

Again, she spoke in that exotic language, and the words flowed with a delicate beauty. A darkling in the front row gestured toward his cape, disappeared, and then reappeared a second later. The gnome took it off, dropped his sword, and approached the wagon slowly. Another darkling gestured toward his ring, and then began to rise. After a second, he lowered himself back down to the ground, took the ring off, and approached the wagon. As a result of the magic being utilized, Trendon didn't notice that two other darklings had disappeared as well. Just as the ring and the cloak were being put on top of the wagon, Trendon was hit in the back of the head and blacked out....

He awoke an unknown amount of time later, with a stinging pain in his midsection. He felt as though he had been struck by lightning. He couldn't move, as his hands were tied up on a table. He could barely see anything at all except for the dark figures that loomed over him.

"What do you," Trendon began weakly, but another stinging sensation pierced his abdomen.

"Shut up!" the female screamed like a banshee. "How do you like my manners now?!"

Trendon saw out of the corner of his eyes the scorpion-whip penetrating into his side. He screamed in pain as the venom was injected into his body. The hook released its hold on Trendon, and he was given a second to relax. Though he couldn't see well in this light, he knew that they could. He was weak from pain, but he refused to give up.

"Now," she cooed seductively, "Tell me about your emerald pendant necklace. Two of my warriors died trying to remove that thing!"

Trendon knew that this object might be his only chance. The pendant that she was referring to contained magical defenses to protect the user from thieves—one hundred and fifty thousand volts of electricity shot out the emerald whenever unwelcome hands touched the necklace, pendant or emerald, but the wearer suffered not a bit.

However, Trendon didn't actually know how this "thing" worked, nor did he know any other of its magical powers...all he knew was that it had belonged to his wizard-master, until a little less than a year ago when the man had been attacked by a massive black dragon while picking special flowers on top of a mountaintop in the middle of the night—Trendon had been sleeping in his tent at their campsite about thirty miles away. Barely had his master managed to escape back to camp with another teleport spell, but he had died only minutes later...in Trendon's outstretched arms. The master's parting gift was the necklace.

"I don't—" Trendon attempted to respond.

"Wrong answer!" she yelled, and whipped him again. This time, however, she let the scorpion's tail do its dirty work, continuously pumping more venom into his body. His life began to ebb away, and he almost blacked out from the pain. Though he didn't want to die, it seemed that the choice had already been taken away from him. Just before he died, she came within inches of his head.

"You know the best part about being a high priestess of Sastis, the goddess who rules over all darklings and arachnids? I can heal you, only to torture you again, and again, and again!" She cast a remove venom spell and a heal spell on Trendon. Even though she had healed him, she hadn't healed him enough to remove the pain or the wounds. Over and over again, she did this—just before Trendon could die, she would reverse all the effects and then start all over! Trendon had no idea how many times he endured this torture. But he refused to talk about the pendant.

Though darkling gnomes are fond of torture, this stubborn human finally began to bore her. The female gnome decided that it was time to pull out something extra-special. Trendon was beyond the point of cognition at this point, anyway. Nothing really mattered anymore to him, except to go back to sleep...permanently!

"Before you die," she explained, "I would like to tell you what I'm going to do. Do you see this jar?" She gestured toward a jar that she was holding. The lid had a golden seal that kept the jar airtight. Inside was a large claw, about three inches in diameter and a foot in length. She began to giggle menacingly. Trendon didn't look. She continued anyway. "This jar contains the fingernail of a vompareus." He hadn't heard of such a creature before. "From what I understand, once it's injected into a target, the claw scratches its way to your heart...very painful process...." She clucked her tongue and then laughed shrilly. "Oh, you're going to love it!" She removed the golden seal from the lid and then twisted to remove it. Gingerly, she pulled out the claw. A darkling soldier ran up and removed the jar from her hands.

"Okay, boy!" she hissed. "This is your last chance to tell me about the pendant!"

"I swear..." Trendon said, weakly, "I don't—"

Before he could finish, she screamed, "Wrong answer, human!" She plunged the claw deep into Trendon's gut, and he screamed aloud. She let go of the claw.

"Aaaahhhh!" The pain increased rapidly. Trendon could feel the claw, entirely on its own, working its way deeper into his abdomen. He screamed again and again. He was conscious during the entire process, as the claw inched its way toward his heart. The room echoed with the screams from Trendon and the shrill laughter of the high priestess of Sastis. Finally, Trendon blacked out....

[Chapter II – The awakening]

Trendon finally did awaken. At first, he thought he was back home with his mother. Realization dawned on him as he knew that he wasn't with his mother but with something else in the dark chamber. He sat up on the table and then realized that his hands weren't strapped down. The leather bounds were still wrapped around his wrists, however.

"Where am I?" Trendon thought aloud.

"You are here..." came a whispered voice that carried no particular gender.

"What happened to me?" Trendon asked. "Where are the darklings?"

"You are no longer you, in answer to your first question," the voice replied. "They are dead, in answer to your second!"

"Then who am I, if I'm not me?" Trendon growled, unappreciative of the vagueness of the answers.

"Time can only answer that..." the voice answered, without emotion.

"Damn it, who are you?" Trendon shrieked. He had had a horrible day, after all. Before waiting for an answer, he asked, "And who killed the darklings?"

"I am what you will become, to answer your first...you, you killed them, to answer your second!" the voice answered. Frustration continued to grow in Trendon's mind.

"Why can't I see?"

"Will it, and you shall.... Farewell, Trendon Harrn," the voice answered. "We will meet again...." The voice disappeared, and Trendon knew that he was alone. He tried to recollect everything that had happened but to no avail. He opened his mind and allowed himself to concentrate on the matter at hand. Concentrating on the concept of light, he was surprised at the answer that was given to him. His eyes adjusted to the dark room and he could see without any light.

Around him lay the darkling warriors—dead! Their bodies had been mutilated, and it was impossible to tell just how many there were! Body pieces hung all over the place, but strangely, there was barely any blood in the room!

"Strange!" Trendon thought. He then saw the high priestess lying in the far corner. He walked over to where she lay and examined her wounds. Her throat had been ripped out, and she still had a look of hatred in her eyes. Apparently, she had not had time to react. Again, there was very little blood, which surprised him again.

"What happened here?" Trendon thought in horror. He searched the bodies, grabbing as much as he could without close examination. He didn't want to be caught in here should other darklings be circling around! He looked around the underground cavern and saw an exit at the far end. He headed for it and, hopefully, back to the surface....]]

"Wow!" Cheryl exclaimed, "I don't know what to say!" It had taken her about fifteen minutes to read it, and I had sat by her side the whole time, reading along with her. On occasion, I had made interjecting comments whenever her face bore a look of confusion.

"Did you like it?" I dared to ask.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, exhilarated. "I want to read more!"

"Really, now," I said, not believing her.

"No, really! It was so exciting!"

Feeling a little strange at her excitement over the story, I glanced over to the clock on the wall and noted that it was after ten. As if on cue, my stomach growled.

She laughed and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"You know what?" I responded. "Actually, I am!"

"Well, I can cook you up a pizza or something before you head home," she offered.

"Sure," I said. "Do you mind if I go outside and smoke?"

"Go ahead, sweetie." She opened her freezer. "Would you like sausage or pepperoni?" she called out as I stepped outside.

"Sausage!" I headed outside and took a seat in her lawn chair. After lighting my cigarette, I gazed across the night sky. The stars glimmered as the light from the moon began to wane. Getting a little restless, I got up and walked down the sidewalk to the backyard that Cheryl shared with three other condo units. I looked across the farm fields that lay at the end of her yard, just beyond the reach of the backyard light, and into the shadowy depths of night. Wondering what type of crop was being grown in the fields, I stared a little harder.

"Looks like corn," I noted. The corn was at head level and appeared to be ready for harvesting soon. As I sat gazing at the cornfield, I saw something whiz past, out of the corner of my eye, and pop! Wondering if I was imagining things, I scanned to my right and saw a few people hanging out several houses down. They were now starting to shoot fireworks, which explained my "hallucination."

I was about to shout an obscenity at them when something else suddenly drew my attention back to the cornfield. As I strained my eyes harder to look into the shadows, a tingling sensation crept its way up my spine.

"Cheryl is a fine looking thing, isn't she?" suggested a whispered voice—a voice that seemed to come not from within, but from without.

Nodding my head slowly in agreement, and thinking about Cheryl, a fantasy began to play inside my head. I could see Cheryl and myself sitting in the kitchen, laughing and talking. Suddenly, my nose detected the intoxicating perfume that she was wearing, and I completely forgot what we were talking about. I stopped laughing and cleared my throat, as my eyes were magnetically drawn to hers and I could look nowhere else. She did not look away, as she had done every time previously. Her eyes were filled with desire! Getting up out of my chair, I walked over and began to gently rub her neck; as I did so, I noted that this only enhanced the stimulating scent. I began to desire her more and more....

She reciprocated my desire by gently cocking her head up to mine and closing her eyes. She slowly pulled my head down to hers with those gentle hands, and I found my lips upon hers. Our kisses were ever so gentle at first. While we kissed, our eyes remained open, probing deeply into each other's, and the flames of passion were finally ignited, rapidly bringing our blood to boiling temperatures...I wanted her so badly! As our kisses intensified, I gently lifted her out of her seat, led her into the living room, and laid her down on the couch. Still, there was no resistance from her, and I leaned over and began to kiss her again. The kisses intensified to the point that attraction turned to lust. Our tongues began to probe, now seeking out the other's core. My hands followed suit, as my heart pounded inside—I had to have her!

But before the fantasy could swell any further, I was brought back to reality as another firecracker suddenly popped very near to where I was standing. I turned to yell at the partying kids, but a new thought suddenly entered my mind, distracting me and cutting me off before I could proceed.

"Did you ever wonder what it would be like to have Cheryl...and to dominate over her?" the voice said, soothingly. "Well, you can!"

"Wait a second," I said aloud. "Those aren't my thoughts! Am I going crazy?" I lit up another cigarette, my hands shaking. The air around me had become warmer and more humid, and I could now feel beads of sweat forming on my skin.

"No..." A voice whispered in my head, definitely not sounding like mine. "You are not!" And as my eyes scanned across the farm field, I could hear something moving out there! I could hear the sweeping sounds of corn being plowed over, but I could not identify exactly where the noises were coming from. Having completely forgotten about the burning cigarette in my hand, I strained my eyes even harder. Soon, I could make out a swirling trail moving through the cornstalks. It appeared as if something was weaving its way over in my direction, and at a rather fast pace! I was alarmed and began to rationalize.

"It's probably a skunk or a beaver," I mused. As it plowed its way through the last row of corn and into view, the shadow continued to move closer, still at a fast pace, but I wasn't able to identify what it was until it finally did reach the light. Then, surprise hit me as I discovered it to be no skunk or beaver, but a giant snake! I felt that this was all an illusion, as it couldn't possibly be real—its head alone had a diameter of three feet! And with the rest of its body still lying beyond my vision in the cornfield, God only knew how long this thing actually was!

Its tongue flickering in rapid bursts, I sensed that it was sniffing the air for something; in confirmation, it veered in my direction and slithered closer! My breath drew in sharply, and I was suddenly very afraid. I watched as death itself came closer, until my cigarette had reached its own end, causing my fingers to burn. The pain caused me to break out of my temporary paralysis, and I attempted to turn around and run—but as I started running, a prayer mysteriously formed in my mind, one that I remembered having read in the Bible, and I said it aloud: "Not my will be done, Oh Lord, but Thine."

Why I uttered that particular prayer, I don't know, and why I did what I did afterward, only God knows—but I stopped and turned around to face this deadly beast, which had suddenly paused in its tracks and was now gazing at me hypnotically.

"Do you believe in me?" In my mind, I heard the words. I paused, unsure as to what that was supposed to mean.

"Are you talking to me?" I asked, inwardly.

"Don't you believe in me?" it countered.

"No," I responded truthfully. "I think I am going absolutely nuts!"

"No," said it, "You are not!"

"Okay," I said, still disbelieving. "I'm not going crazy—"

"Yesss," it hissed. "Now, releassse your fearsss of me..."

"I am a little frightened," I thought, "but, strangely, I'm not freaking out...."

"Good," it replied, and then asked, "Have you eaten of the Tree? The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil?"

"Haven't we all eaten from that Tree already?" I asked.

"No," it answered.

"So, where is this Tree?" I asked.

After a moment's pause, it answered, "The Tree isss located within the midst of the Garden!"

"And where is this supposed Garden?" I asked.

"Within the eyesss of the beholder," it answered twice.

"The eyes of the beholder?" I asked.

"Yesss...." it hissed, causing those chills to crawl up my back again.

"No, then," I answered, "I haven't eaten of any fruit yet. I doubt that any such fruit exists, and I doubt that this experience is even happening...and I even doubt _you_!"

"Of courssse...." it hissed. "Only the foolisssh do not. Keep sssecret about my presssence...and my sssecretsss."

"Who'd believe me anyway?" I thought. Growing irritated at its elusive answers and from my growing feeling of insanity, I demanded, "So, where is this mysterious Garden, then?" I leaned closer to the reptile until we were just about to touch, and as it gazed at me hypnotically, I could see something else within its cold eyes—I caught my breath suddenly, as realization dawned on me—it had emotions!

Before I could process this new discovery, something suddenly touched the back of my shoulder, causing the serpent to vanish. My nerves were on a tightrope by then, and I jumped around quickly, shouting, "What?!"

It was Cheryl. The pizza that she had been carrying on a piece of cardboard tilted, and the pizza was sliding off fast. I placed my hand under the lowered end before it could slide off and fall. The voice of the serpent appeared again in my head, but it seemed to be trailing off: "The answer liesss within you...."

"I'm so sorry, Cheryl," I said apologetically. "You scared the heck out of me!"

Cheryl, unafraid, looked at me with careful thought. "You weren't scared, Jeb!" she said, finally. "You were experiencing something else, but I don't know what!"

"I was thinking about my story, that's all," I lied. Just then, my stomach made a loud groaning noise. Cheryl attempted to stifle a laugh with her hand but failed. That gesture reminded me of Nina from McBucks. "Say," I suggested, "you ready to eat?"

"You bet your buns I am!" she countered playfully. I was reminded again of just how stunning a woman she really was—that blonde hair cascading down over her shoulders, those blue eyes that reminded me of the cool blue oceans in the Caribbean that I'd only seen in pictures.

"Perhaps, one day, if I can ever write this darned book, we could explore such places together!" I thought, as we walked back inside. We ate our dinner quietly, and as I kept glancing up at her, I noticed that she was watching me as well. Temptation began to overwhelm me, and I could almost see the fantasy replaying in my head. My eyes strayed over to the cuckoo clock hanging on the wall in her kitchen. The time was 10:54 P.M.

Suddenly, I remembered my pledge to our friendship, and I cut short my fantasy once again and stated grudgingly, "Listen, Cheryl, I need to get home so I can do some writing. I'll give you a call after I get done tomorrow, okay?"

After clearing her throat, she said, in a slightly husky voice, "Yes! That's perfect...tomorrow night it is!" I grabbed my keys off the table and was about to head out the door when a bright light flashed into my eyes, causing me to wince. When I looked around for the source, I realized that it was the reflection from a green apple sitting in her fruit basket. The apple was very shiny, and I found it a little peculiar that I hadn't noticed it before.

"Do you mind?" I asked, gesturing toward the fruit.

"Sure, help yourself, sweetie!" she answered with a smile. I gave her a quick hug and headed out the door. I headed home, ate the apple, and went to bed.

## Chapter III

Discoveries

[[Recollections from Death Row—The events that have been recapped so far have come solely from my memory and were never recorded officially. It was only the following day, after my strange visitation by the serpent that I commenced to journal writing, as _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ had suggested.

The following pages contain the actual transcripts from my journal writing and my tape recordings, which I eventually transferred over to the computer. Early on, I took handwritten notes, and then began to record my daily events on a tape recorder, either "live" or in retrospect. Eventually, all of my handwritten notes and tape-recorded entries were transcribed (by me) into a computer word processing program, and ultimately, all of my journal writing was done directly on the computer.

For the purpose of clarification, I will note that these journal entries have been copied by me into this document as they were initially transcribed by me at the time, and so all grammatical and typographical errors have been preserved, with only my heretofore liberally used profanity edited out (%$#@!) to make it more palatable for the general readership.

In addition, you may wonder about my ability to remember so many exact details of events as described in my Recollections from Death Row thus far—let me just say that sharpened memory is but another component of my heightened mental and psychic powers, gained from my training within the Order, with which the reader will become further acquainted shortly.

Finally, the sole reason that I am violating the serpent's demand now is that I need you to understand the whole story—yes, I am fully aware that there may be hell to pay for this violation!]]

[9/22—Notebook]

Today was an interesting day for a multitude of reasons. The first is that I am going to attempt to write out my thoughts about things.

Let's see, about 11 in the morning, I got up and completed my morning duties. After that, I headed down to the lobby. Patrick, a staff member here, had a message for me from my brother. He had been told to tell me to call him ASAP at work! I found out after talking to Peter that he had received a packet in the mail concerning my employment. He had already taken the liberty of opening it, and informed me that I had been accepted! My drug screening had gone through! No more Kwikee Mart for me! I called Cheryl about an hour ago and told her that I wouldn't be able to see her tonight. A little strangely, she didn't sound too disappointed, which made me wonder about last night—if it even happened!

The reason I couldn't see her, of course, is that I had decided to pick up some reefer. I kind of missed smoking it, until about a half-hour ago. I smoked two bowls, and I'm feeling as high as a kite! I'm going to watch some TV in a moment and then go to bed around 10 to get ready for tomorrow!

Oh yeah...I know that I have found my calling: I wrote four pages today in my new book! I wonder what I'll call it....

[9/22—Notebook]

It's 11:30 P.M., and for some odd reason, I can't sleep! My mind keeps going over questions like where I'll be in a year, or what kind of ride I'll have, or the things I'll be able to buy. But they just won't stop! I mean, I am just too excited to sleep! Yet the importance is great—I need to lie down again for work tomorrow!

[9/23—Notebook]

Oh my God! I can't believe what just happened to me.... Just thinking about it is making my skin crawl! It's 2:25 A.M., and not even a half-hour ago, the freezing temperature in my room woke me up. When I opened my eyes to check my window, I saw that it was closed. I then wondered if the A.C. had accidentally been turned up too high—even with the blankets, I was freezing! I have the shivers now just thinking about it!

Well, after looking at my new alarm clock to see what time it was—it was 1:55 A.M.—my eyes then strayed toward the door. I could see the hall light on, from the cracks under and around my door. Everything looked normal at first—until, just then, a shadow suddenly appeared underneath the door. Normally, you can hear people walking down the hallway, even at night—but I hadn't heard any footsteps whatsoever. I then wondered if it might be the cops sneaking about!

By that time, my eyes had adjusted to the dark room and I could now see shadows coming through the window, from the trees outside. Still, that shadow didn't move—it remained on the other side of my door! My skin started crawling with goose bumps again, as I saw the shadow's dimensions twist in the light and somehow slide underneath my door and into my room! That shadowy being, darker than all the other shadows in the room, crawled its way up my legs and then up my chest! Suddenly, I found it very difficult to breathe.

"That is most certainly not the cops!" I could only think. Tears began flowing from the pure terror that I felt inside! I tried to sit up in bed, only to—this definitely sounds crazy, but I have to continue anyway—I sat up in bed, only to get _punched in the face_ by that shadow thing! And the last thing I thought, before losing consciousness, was that it felt as cold as ice!

After I awoke, I glanced at my clock, which now displayed 2:06 A.M. I'm still terrified that that thing might still be in here, even now! Did I dream the whole thing up or what? Or maybe I just got too excited about tomorrow? Who the %$#@ knows? Maybe the drugs are taking over my mind....

[9/23—Notebook]

It's 6:30 A.M. My alarm just went off, but I am tired as %$#@, so this entry will be short—I slept horribly last night! I need to get some coffee. What the hell happened last night? Man, I'm tired!

[9/23—Notebook]

It's 5:30 P.M. I just got home from work and I am completely exhausted! I had to learn about two-dozen different tasks at my new job in the shipping department. I don't think I even remember one now!

My plans for the evening: Eat dinner and go to bed! Cheryl will understand...I will sleep tonight, even if I have to fight Hell itself!

[9/30—Notebook]

It has been a week since I last wrote in my journal. Not much to report here, other than the fact that I am still learning my job at Telexia. I have seen no other shadow-beings, despite the fact that I still am smoking the same stuff. At first, I wondered if it might have been laced. But after having smoked all week with nothing else happening, I have decided otherwise.

Oh yes...Cheryl paged me today from her house while I was at work, and I called her back immediately. She invited me over for dinner tonight, to which I agreed. So on that note, I'll write later! Got to go!

Oh yeah...I do sincerely need to get back to writing!

[9/31—Notebook]

Last night, I spent the night at Cheryl's. Oh, yes! It was an intense night—we finally had sex! I am no longer a virgin! It was even better than what I ever would have guessed. She asked me if I could come over tonight, but I had to say no, unfortunately—after all, I do need to get back to writing! I was tired at work today, too tired to write during my breaks. I explained all of this to her, and I think she understood.

Now I'm feeling much better, with joint in hand! And yes, the pen too! It's time to start writing! But first, here's the idea I've been working with: Trendon, half-undead and half-living from the effects of the vompareus claw, struggles underground for several years until one day, he discovers this magical portal. He steps through the portal but into a totally different realm! However, his magic spells do not work here, so he must completely relearn the arts all over again! But in this new realm, there is also a Magickal Conclave at work—where the forces of good, neutrality, and evil all work together for one purpose: Magick. Yet, when wars occur, the learning of Magick stops, and sides need to be chosen. And Magick users that do not belong to the Conclave are hunted down...and killed! And throughout all of those struggles, he also discovers incredible powers that help him to heal from his abnormal condition.

Well, let's see how this goes....

[10/18—Notebook]

I seem to have lost my green notebook, but that's okay—it'll pop up when I need it. It's possible that I may have lost it in the move. I got this new red one and we'll see how it goes....

A week ago, I finally moved out of the ghetto—yes! Cheryl asked me to move in with her, and I agreed; I was staying there anyway, for the most part. I only stopped at my crib to pick up clothes and stuff like that. Our relationship is most definitely improving; although she doesn't think of me as the most kosher person, she does like me a lot! For instance, she always gets upset when I leave the toilet seat up—so now, as a solution, I am leaving the seat down—ha, ha!

At work today, I ran across something very interesting on the Internet called the Order of the Secret Serpent. I'm going to the library this weekend to see if I can learn more about it.... Oh well, time to work on my book!

[[Recollections from Death Row—While at work that day, I typed the words "contest of wills" into the Internet browser. Instead of working, like I was supposed to, I was looking for something that might explain to me the concept of the struggle between good and evil—to aid me with my story, of course—and the term "contest of wills" had popped up in my head.

Thirty-five Web sites popped up on the screen, but I didn't see anything that really looked interesting. So I added the word "religious" to the "contest of wills," and hit the Enter key again. Four sites popped up, but still nothing interesting. After removing the word "religious," I added the word "occult" after "contest of wills," and, once again, no sites popped up. Exasperated, I switched over to another search engine and typed in "contest of wills." One entry surfaced:

Ordo de Seclorum Serpente Web site -- « Order of the Secret Serpent »

...accordingly. [Standing above & below all things...The Contest of Wills has only begun!]

I clicked on Ordo de Seclorum Serpente, which was underlined in blue, and was immediately transferred to the Web site. What then appeared on the screen, in bright red letters, was this message:

The Articles of Liberty

Issued by

Ordo de Seclorum Serpente

BEHOLD, I AM IN YOU & ABOVE YOU

Two red snakes then appeared on either side of the inscription. They spun around in circles while trying to eat their own tails. At first, there appeared to be no way into the Web site. I moved my cursor slowly around the screen, and finally, it happened! When the cursor ran over the first capitalized "S" on the screen, it transformed from the arrow icon into the small icon of a wrapped snake.

I was excited, as the first puzzle was solved! After clicking the left mouse button, I was led to another screen; on this screen, there were three lines, with words to the right of each line.

___________ *** Enter Name

___________ *** Enter Solution

I typed my name into the first box, but with no success. The only message I received was, "The server does not recognize this user." Disappointment set in yet again, as I could go no further.]]

[10/23—Notebook]

I have just returned home from the library. While there, I ran into Bryan White! It's been months since I first ran into him. He told me that he had received almost all As in school—good for him! But his dad wasn't too happy that he got a B in Science 101. What's wrong with that? Anyway, Bryan gave me a business card with his phone number on it, and we're probably going to party tonight!

In other news, Cheryl and I just had a fight about my tardiness. She was upset because I told her that I would be home by four-thirty to take her to the pharmacy to pick up her birth control pills—and I wasn't. She couldn't drive herself because she totaled her own car two days ago. I completely forgot about the time, though, because I was immersed in this book at the library called _The Day of Judgment_ , and I didn't get home until 5:45 P.M. And boy, she was pissed! Jeez! I sometimes think that we're married or something. Sometimes, just sometimes, she knows how to get on my nerves....

[[Recollections from Death Row—Though this was all I had written on this particular date, something else occurred that I didn't elaborate upon then, but that I shall explain now—something very significant!

After arriving at the library that day, I had typed in the words "articles of liberty" on the library's service directory. There were no entries for these words, so I then typed the words "Ordo de Seclorum Serpente." Up popped one entry. Here is what it said:

40.5656 HC— _The Day of Judgment_ , by Henry Cole...The NWO (New World Order), which consists of esoteric groups such as Freemasons, Illuminati, and Ordo de Seclorum Serpente, shall unite to enslave the whole..."

"This looks interesting..." I thought to myself, glanced across the screen under the availability column, and happily noticed that the book was available! I then headed over to the 0-100 section, located an unadorned black book with red lettering, and grabbed it.

As I approached the counter, my eyes happened to glance up at the clock, noting the time, 4:05 P.M., and then briefly at my reading spot, which was empty. I then thought to look into the book briefly before checking it out, figuring that I had plenty of time to decide before tending to Cheryl's needs.

I took my seat and got comfortable again. I inspected the cover and found that there was no cover design to the book, simply a black background with giant red letters: _The Day of Judgment_ — _Henry Cole_. I opened the book and scanned quickly through the author's foreword. In it, the author, Henry Cole, claimed to have once been involved in a secret society of secret societies, what they liked to call Order of the New World Order. There was no mention of which Order he had belonged to.

The second paragraph mentioned that the minister and his family currently travel across the country, preaching in churches and on radio talk shows, presenting his knowledge about his former involvement with the occult, in an effort to warn Christians against getting involved in these occult groups.... Here is what I read that day:

[[Chapter I: Know the Truth!

The NWO, or New World Order, is already sucking us dry and we don't even know it! They exist everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. Such groups include, but are not limited to, Freemasons, Illuminati, Order of the Seclorum Serpente, Trilateral Commissions, The Clan of 13, The Skull & Bones, the Velderberg Group, even the Vatican and the Pope!

I know—for I once belonged! Their goal is to unite to enslave the whole of the human race! But what they still need is the Antichrist, who shall ultimately unite them all through the "Spear of Destiny," the very spear that was stabbed into the side of Christ—the final wound inflicted upon our Savior! Their "elite" members consist of those who already govern our country and rule the "Industrial Revolution." To elaborate, they include congressmen/women, judges, dictators, generals, CEOs, the media, the President, and of course, Hollywood, etc., etc....

Their hearts do not initially start out as cold and evil, but that is where they all end up, particularly after their "Highest level of Initiation," once they discover exactly whom they really serve! I will reveal all of that later in this book...but remember, do not just take my word for it—take God's! I call your attention to the following Biblical passage:

(Revelations 13:13,14: "He performs great signs, so that he even makes fire come down from the heaven on the earth in the sight of men. And he deceives those who dwell on the earth by those signs which he was granted to do in the sight of the beast, telling those who dwell on the earth to make an image to the beast who was wounded by the sword and lived.")

The Beast is already here on our planet—The New World Order! The United Nations! But hope and peace are not yet beyond our grasp. Come with me, as I take you into the heart of this high-powered "elite." Come with me as I expose the minds and operations of the aforementioned "secret societies" and unravel their "mystery...."]]

After having read this, I started thinking, "What have I done?" For my mind instantly recalled the night of the serpent's visitation back at Cheryl's place—the same night that I had later eaten of the fruit! "Was that particular serpent really Satan in disguise?" I recalled the Bible story. "But why would Satan come to me? Wasn't it the _woman_ that the serpent should tempt? Did I really eat from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil? Or am I being deceived? Or am I just loony? What is the truth? Is there a God?" I was greatly upset at the lack of answers. "If my eyes are indeed opened, as _Magick_ had forecast, then why am I not getting any answers? Instead, I only have more questions!"

At that moment, I detected a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye, and when I turned to see what it was, I discovered Bryan walking toward me! He was wearing a silky red collared shirt and a pair of black dress slacks and shoes. His hair was slicked back just as before, and in each hand, he carried several thick textbooks. I remember our conversation as if it happened yesterday.

"Hey, Jeb!" Bryan said, with a big smile. "How are you doing, bro?" Still shaken from my earlier thoughts, I hesitated to answer. His face became inquisitive as he asked, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I responded. "It's my nerves."

"Oh..." Bryan answered, and with a thoughtful expression on his face, he asked, "Do you also have a hard time concentrating? You know, when your mind likes to wander off?"

"Sometimes," I answered, "but not very much anymore...." I then looked at him dubiously and asked, "Why?"

"Because I used to have that problem myself," he answered cryptically. "But I know the cure for that, if you'd like to hear it."

"The cure for what?" I asked suspiciously. "I don't have a problem."

"Oh," he answered again in the same tone as before. "Then you don't want to know that it's an herb called gingko biloba!" He started to laugh. I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't control myself, and the more I laughed, the more I wanted to cry, because the stress was finally catching up to me again—I couldn't seem to get anywhere with the people who were put in charge of me at work; I hadn't written any more of my story in quite some time; and I was seriously questioning my sanity, especially with all of the recent hallucinatory episodes of zombies and shadowy demons and giant snakes!

"It's only Truth that I desire," I thought, "but all I ever seem to get is contradictory information!" With that last thought, I burst into another fit of laughter, which caused tears to pour from my eyes! At that point, perhaps the saying "Tears are the cleansing of the soul" proved to be a truism.

Somehow, Bryan mistook my tears, thinking that I was crying and not laughing, and with compassion, he put a hand on my shoulder. I stopped laughing and looked over at him, confirming the sincere compassion in his eyes. I then looked away uncomfortably, but not before a certain connection was formed, one that would last forever.

Bryan gave me a couple of firm pats on my shoulder and finally removed his hand. Instead of probing further into my agony, he asked, "Want to get a bite to eat?" I looked over at the clock on the wall, and the clock displayed 5:07 P.M.

I nearly cursed aloud but caught myself, realizing that I was still in the library.

"What's the matter?" Bryan asked, a slight frown on his face.

"I was supposed to be home at four-thirty, and now look at the time!" I gestured toward the clock.

He looked over at the clock and shrugged his shoulders. "There's a reason for everything, you know...."

"But I was supposed to take my girlfriend to the pharmacy, which closes at five!" I interjected.

He cocked his head sideways just a little and laughed. "Even bad things—"

"Well, let me get your phone number and I'll give you a call," I interrupted. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing yet..." he smiled. "Want my cell number?"

Nodding my head, I answered, "Sure!" As I headed over to the counter to retrieve a pen and paper, Bryan asked me, "What's that you're reading?"

Feeling a little embarrassed, I turned around quickly, glancing first at him and then down at the book. "This?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, pointing with his right index finger.

"Oh. It's about New World Orders and stuff like that," I answered. He looked thoughtful again and began to rub his hairless chin, as if there were hair there. " _Really_..." he responded, now definitely more interested. "Do you believe in that kind of stuff? You know...the conspiracy theories and stuff?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "I don't know what to believe."

He leaned over to me so that only I could hear what he had to say, and then whispered, "The truth is found within you. But you must remove the falsities first..." I said nothing, only listened. He continued, "You can't judge a book by its cover! If you put everything you have into every book you read, you'll go insane!" Nodding his head for emphasis, he said, "One last thing—never, _ever_ forsake yourself!" Chills ran up and down my spine, and I could say nothing in response. He laughed again and changed the subject. "You have to go...." He then pulled his wallet out and handed me a business card that read:

Hammers & White Law Firm

Bryan White—Paralegal Assistant

Office Number: 1-800-555-2398

Fax Number: 1-815-555-7432

Cellular Number: 1-815-555-2343

I looked up at Bryan with a half-joking expression and asked, "You own your own law firm?"

"Not exactly...well, not yet, anyway. I work as the paralegal's assistant at my father's firm for now, until I graduate..." Bryan paused to see if I was interested in what he had to say. I was, so he continued, "I'm still studying law—I actually live here in town, which is why I come here. Didn't I mention that to you before?" I thought back to our first encounter but remembered very little. Bryan looked at the clock and said, "You'd better get going! We can talk about this later."

"Okay...later, bro!" I said, extending my hand.

"Later," he said, clasping it securely. "Call me, okay?"

I nodded my head in agreement and replied, "You bet!"

Bryan returned both the nod, and a friendly smile, before he released his grip on my hand; he then walked over and picked up all his books off the nearby table; after throwing me one final smile, he headed out the door. Before I left, another idea sprang to mind—I headed to the shelf and looked for _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_. Sure enough, it was there. I checked out both books and headed for home.]]

[10/24—Notebook]

It's 4:22 P.M. I just got back from partying in Chicago, and I'm pretty messed up now! Bryan brought this chick with him, but I don't remember her name—but she was a hottie! Cheryl came along, too, and we all went to the Club E with DJ Machine spinning. Machine is the bomb! That woman goes with the feel of her music—I mean, she's damn creative. Man! I'm still rolling like hell...I can't go to sleep now, but Cheryl's been asleep for about a half-hour.

Bryan and I didn't get much of a chance to talk, but that's okay—that dude is a pimp! I don't want him to think of me as a freak. I used to wonder if he might actually be gay since he was so sensitive and caring with me in the library—but not anymore! Not with that chick! She was all over him like a wet noodle! Girls were hitting on him left and right, and that girl he had brought along didn't even mind! By the end of the night, they had even found another girl to join them.

Cheryl isn't like that, unfortunately. On the brighter side of things, she finally did relax by the time we got to the club. Sometimes, it takes her awhile to calm down. Well, as I can't sleep anyway, I am going to try reading Chapter II of the _Forbidden Fruit_....

[10/25—Notebook]

Finally woke up! I feel terrible, however. Tired as hell! Going back to bed...write later!

[10/25—Notebook]

It's 7:56 P.M. I went to the bargain store and bought a tape recorder. I figure it might help to collect my thoughts a little better than trying to remember them from memory. I'll still copy them from the tape recorder to my written journal, however. To save space and time, though, I'm going to copy only the most important thoughts, dialogue, and surrounding sounds from the tape into my journal.

[10/26—Tape-recorded entry]

"Today is the 26th of October...time, 3:22 in the morning. I had gone to bed around eleven last night, figuring on eight hours of sleep. However, I was awakened several minutes ago by a terrifying nightmare! Right now, I remember it, so that is why I am recording this, in case I forget.

"In my dream, a scene slowly started to play itself out. At first, the dream seemed normal. There was this girl, approximately seventeen or eighteen years old. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and innocent green eyes. I don't remember what she was wearing. Though I didn't know who she was, she seemed strangely familiar at the time, as if we were old friends. She was telling me something, but I couldn't hear her.

"After a short pause, I saw her cheeks begin to blush. Her green eyes gazed up at me, and a slight smile formed on her lips. She leaned in to kiss me, and I felt her soft lips on my own. She pulled back from that kiss and threw a sweet smile at me. Before she turned to walk up the sidewalk leading to her front porch, she blew me another kiss—and then it starts getting weird!

"I could see myself following behind her with a slightly bouncy motion. She was still walking, unaware that I had almost reached her. Her scent only grew stronger as I neared, and a strange feeling began to wash over me. I was overtaken by a feeling, as if a beast within me was beginning to awaken! I finally drew to an arm's length away from her, and I could see a hand appear in my field of vision. It reached in the direction of the girl and grabbed at her hair, finally connected, and jerked her head back, exposing the veins in her neck.

"I tried to scream to alert the girl, who was now in danger, but with no success. No sounds could be spoken or heard, and I had no control over what happened afterward! As this event unfolded, I was horror-stricken at the violence that I was forced to observe, as I saw her raped and then stabbed continuously! The last sight I saw before waking up was her face in its last dying moment. Those tender eyes looked up into the darkness of night, and she inhaled her last breath—and with her last and final exhalation, her soul poured out from her heart and out through her mouth. Yet before that pure soul could escape—damn it all to hell— _my_ body somehow absorbed the soul and I could feel this ultimate power surge through my veins! I saw every color, yet no color at all...and in that moment, I saw the word, _chaos vicigerent,_ which, according to the dictionary, means 'deputy of chaos.'

"That was the last thing I remember before I woke up—I am recording this event for posterity. I wonder what the dream's supposed to mean?" _Click_

[10/27—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's now 7:45 A.M., and I am on my way to work....Traffic isn't too bad today, but it looks like I am just barely going to make it. I have listened to the recording from last night over and over again, trying to remember anything that I might have missed, any clues. I just bought today's _McCurrn Herald_ newspaper, and I am going to check it out to see if there have been any murders reported." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"It is almost the end of my first break—I'm sitting in my car, and I just finished scanning the paper. I found nothing even remotely similar to last night's dream...but maybe the body hasn't been found yet. Maybe the situation hasn't even happened yet—or maybe it was just a dream! I have two minutes left till I have to go back in.

"Well, since this recording won't be heard by anyone else, I can say this here and then transcribe it to the computer tonight.... There's this girl at work whose name is Shayanna. She's a black chick and pretty good-looking! I'm not prejudiced about race or color, of course. She's light-skinned, and I noticed that she has the most attractive eyes I have ever seen—something like Nina's eyes, believe it or not, but even better! I think you could sink into those brown eyes of hers. But her looks I would rate only as 3½ stars out of a possible five stars....Well, I have to run back in, as my time is a little more than up now!" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—I set the tape recorder back in the central console and headed back into work. During lunch break, I retrieved my lunch from the refrigerator in the lounge and ran out to my car. I began to read the third chapter of _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ with renewed vigor!]]

(Tape recorder on)

"Okay, it happened again, just minutes ago! Shayanna came over to my work station to ask for some assistance. She needed help removing some crates from the top shelf against the wall. During her description of which boxes she needed me to get down for her, that feeling returned—the best way to describe it is pure, unadulterated lust! I just wanted to bend her over my desk and hear her screaming my name in ecstasy, and I didn't care if it was at work or not. I have to figure out why I have these feelings—is it related to the strange dream I had several nights ago?

"To be honest, and nothing personal against her—for she is a very nice person—she's a little cute but not the type of girl I'd usually go for. Her body is a little on the plump side, and I don't like those types of curves. Of course, I helped her out, but I still couldn't get my mind away from those thoughts. Now I feel better! But why is it that when I am near her, I go crazy?" _Click_

[Oct. 28th—Notebook]

I'm on my lunch now, and this time, I will not be late getting back in. Unfortunately, I took my tape recorder inside the house last night and forgot to bring it today. Thus, I'm writing in my journal.

On a positive note, I finally received a possible solution to my little dilemma from yesterday. It came from a dude at work whose name is Frank. Frank is a 23-year-old guy who's just moved here from San Francisco about two months ago. Frank is gay, and fortunately, I am not Frank's type, according to him, so I have tried to get to know him just a little more personally.

Anyway, I told him of my feelings toward Shayanna without mentioning any specifics. His response to me was, "Oh yes, I know exactly what you're saying. It does happen quite often, and it's not always by sight alone. Remember, humans are also animalistic, and we use the sense of smell. Just like animals, humans exude a natural "perfume" called pheromones, and that is partially responsible for those intense feelings you were describing. Not all humans, however, are attracted to the same scent, you know? Like how someone likes the smell of hamburgers and someone else likes pizza?"

I sat and listened without saying anything. After he had finished, I merely nodded my head and said, "Thanks, dude!" I turned back to my computer and entered the world of the Internet. Typing the word "pheromone" into the search engine, I picked a site at random. Instead of going into detail over this, I am just going to write that Frank is right—pheromones are a form of hormonal excretion meant to carry a message to others of the opposite sex!

Somehow, I feel better knowing that this is just a fact of nature and not some perversion within me.... Well, time to eat and head back into work!

[Oct. 29th—Tape-recorded entry]

"In two days, Halloween will be here. The weather has cooled down considerably, forcing everyone to wear winter coats. Cheryl and I have been invited to her company's annual Halloween bash. She is going to dress up like a genie, and in turn, I've decided to go as an Arab—turban and all! I even cut the tuft off a stuffed animal, painted it black, and will glue it to my chin! After the party ends at eleven, we've decided to go clubbing at Club Midnight in Chicago for the rest of the night.

"Bryan gave me a call about ten minutes ago and invited me over to his crib! I am proceeding north on Route 39 toward Plainview at the moment. Though the speed limit is forty-five miles per hour, I am doing fifty-five—I know the cops are bad in the area, but I never did respect those jerks, anyway...let's see, what can I talk about?

"Oh yeah...Shayanna. Even though those feelings still roil within me, I feel that they are more under control now that I know the source of the problem...ha, ha! I sound like a psychologist. What am I going to do to stop those pheromones from reaching my brain? Maybe I should try breathing through my mouth instead of my nose when she's around!" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—A strange sensation passed over my body just then. I had passed an antique shop when I heard the sound of sirens in my brain. At the same time, a holographic image appeared before me in my mind's eye, in the shape of a police car, with red and blue lights flashing.]]

(Tape recorder on)

"Thankfully, I just slowed down about ten seconds ago—hidden behind a trailer at the gas station was a police car, scanning the road for speeders, no doubt! Fortunately, I slowed down, or I would have gotten a ticket. I wonder if that was a premonition..... Well, according to the directions Bryan gave me, the road should be just up here, before a church, to the left. I need to take the road all the way down, around a forest glade, and to the first road. I need to make a right there and follow the road down past the new subdivision. When I had looked at my 1999 edition map of the Chicago suburbs, there was no indication of this road even having been built! Very private area, at least for now....

"Okay....The way these pine trees are aligned, in perfect diagonal rows, I'd bet that they had been planted all at the same time, so they'd remain the same height.... Damn! This road seems to go on and on! I have passed the forest glade.... Ah, there it is! That's funny—Bryan didn't tell me that the street was named after his family! Seriously, the name of this road is White Drive! I never thought that Plainview was this big and wooded—it seems like I've been traveling forever!

"Ah! Here we go...the mailbox for 333 White Drive. There's a little road that continues here to the left. You can't even see the house from here—only a path that leads up to it. These guys must be filthy rich! There's a giant stone wall just ahead, and there's a tall iron gate blocking the entryway.... I admit that I'm a little nervous about going to a yuppie's house! I mean, who wouldn't be? All I've ever known were lower middle-class people, except for my brother and his family. Okay...I'm at the gate now. There's an intercom system attached to a post, just five feet short of the gate! Uh...excuse me? Is there a Bryan that lives here?"

_Elderly voice_ : "Is this Master Maruso?"

_My voice_ : "Yes."

_Elderly voice_ : "One moment, sir." _Gate opening, car accelerating and passing through gate._

"Oh my God! 'House,' he said? It's not a house—it's a freaking mansion! Damn! A beauty, too—four floors! Holy %$#@! There's even a garage next to the mansion with five doors! I wonder what kinds of rides are sitting in there...." _Lopar decelerating and stopping._ "Well, I guess it's about time to head in...I've just finished parking my piece-of-crap—suddenly, I feel really embarrassed and nervous about being here, but it's too late to back out now...." _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—After setting the turned off tape recorder in the glove box, I remembered looking out of my driver-side window. Bryan was approaching the car with a big smile on his face. By the time I got out of the car, he had already made it there, with hand extended. He could move fast when he wanted to.

"Hey!" he greeted me, smiling. "I'm glad to see that you found the place!"

"What's up, Bryan?" I asked, returning the smile and extending my hand to clasp his. He took it and then jerked me into him, giving me a tight hug. The sun was just above the level of the trees but fading fast. The shadows had grown extensively, covering everything up to the fourth floor of the mansion. "That's funny...it seemed only moments ago that the whole area was lit up by the sun!" I mused.

In answer to my question, he responded, "A lot!" I was curious as to what he meant by "a lot," but didn't say anything. After waiting for a couple of seconds for the answer to digest, he said, "Come on in...I've got a surprise for you!"

I remember squinting at him suspiciously and asking, "What kind of surprise?"

Laughing a little mischievously, he answered, "You'll just have to wait to find out!" He turned around and started walking back up to the house. I noticed that he had a long stride, probably the reason he had been able to move so fast. As a smoker, I found it difficult to keep pace with him, and I started to breathe hard. There was a good two hundred feet from where I had parked my car to the house.

Glancing over his shoulder, Bryan noticed that I was falling behind. Sweeping his arm in a wide circle, he hollered over his shoulder, "Come on!" My adrenaline started to kick in, and not only did I catch up to him but I passed him, bolting for the front door! He laughed and then took off, passing me again. We were halfway to the huge house by then, but we only went faster; within seconds, we had made it to the marble stairs that led up to this magnificent mansion. We raced for the finish line, two huge double oaken doors with brass-colored door handles, but we weren't able to stop in time, and we both slammed into them, Bryan a nanosecond ahead of me. As a result of the crash, we both fell back onto the porch, momentarily stunned from the impact. Just then, the left door swung open.

As I got up and began dusting myself off, an elderly man peered around the door and glanced at Bryan and me; noticing the perspiration on our faces, he asked, "Playing again, I see, young master?"

Still breathing hard, Bryan answered, "You've got to...every now and then!" I emerged from behind the door and looked at this elderly man. He was wearing nothing to suggest that he was the butler.

Straightening myself up, I inhaled deeply and asked, "Who are you, sir?"

"This is James, our butler," Bryan answered for him.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Maruso," James said, bowing low.

"You, too, James." I turned to Bryan and clasped his shoulder, laughing. "Nice win—a knock-out in the fifteenth round!"

"Thanks, Jeb!" was his mirthful reply.

"May I take your jacket, Master Maruso?" James asked.

"Come on in, Jeb. You're more than welcome here!" Bryan said, still laughing. We headed in through those massive oak doors, and I was amazed at what I saw in the entryway.

While exploring this new world, I felt a tug on my jacket sleeve. I turned and realized that James was attempting to remove my jacket for me; Bryan laughed at the confused expression on my face. I gave him a hurt look, but then started to laugh too—this was my first experience with letting my defenses down.

"You should have seen your face," Bryan said, laughing. "It was the funniest thing I've ever seen!" I was laughing, too, but just then, the air in the room seemed to get colder by a degree. Bryan sensed it too, and he straightened up immediately. No traces of laughter were evident on his face anymore, and he was looking up the spiral staircase to the second floor.

My eyes followed his, and I was startled to see a man standing at the top of the staircase. This man was not dressed casually—he wore a sharp black three-piece suit. His face was tough but clean-shaven, revealing a strong jaw and high cheekbones. His hair was ever-so-slightly graying and slicked back tightly. From where I stood, on the bottom floor looking up, I could see that he had piercing green eyes! He did not speak immediately but seemed as though he was debating as to how to begin the conversation—he did look serious, though!

"Son," the man said, without moving an inch, "you know that you are to conduct yourself as a gentleman. Who is this?" The tone of his voice neither condoned nor condemned my presence here. It was completely neutral, displaying no emotion. But his piercing gaze made me feel like a wriggling worm!

"Father," Bryan answered and extended his hand in my direction. "This is my friend, Jeb."

Without turning to look at me, his father said, "Remember what I said." He then proceeded to head down the hallway to our left. I turned to see that James had disappeared, and Bryan and I were completely alone again.

Bryan leaned in close to me and whispered, "Don't worry about him—he always acts big in front of people!"

Not sure I wanted to be here anymore, I suggested, "Maybe I should go."

"No!" Bryan pleaded, "don't go! You haven't even seen my surprise yet!"

"Bryan, man," I half-whispered, "I am not a gentleman. I am a worm off the streets in your dad's eyes—I could feel it!"

"Jeb," Bryan countered, "remember what I told you in the library...." My memory searched for the words, and I finally remembered what he had said: "One last thing—never, _ever_ forsake yourself!"

"Okay...I'll stay." Those words had some sort of power over me.

His position changed from pleading to joyful, and he embraced me, whispering in my ear, "You won't regret it...come on!" He bounded up the stairs with that unhurried but fast pace of his.. After we had reached the second floor, he headed to the right. I followed him and tried to catch details of my surroundings as we walked. We proceeded down the long hallway, which contained five doors on each side.

Looking back at the hallway on the other side of the staircase, where Bryan's father had gone, I noticed that there were ten doors in that hallway—twenty rooms on this floor alone! There were three other floors, I recalled, and I could only wonder how many rooms this mansion held in total! I noticed that there were expensive paintings on the wall space between every door. Small bulbs that fit in nice little silver stands gave these paintings constant illumination.

Bryan headed to the second to last door on the right and stopped. He turned in my direction and waited patiently for me. By the time I had reached him, my adrenaline was flying again; I was really nervous!

"Listen," I whispered, "maybe I—"

"Nonsense," he whispered intently. Taking a breath, he sighed and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Relax...take a deep breath and let it out...." I tried to relax, but my nerves didn't cooperate. "Another one," he suggested. I took another deep breath, and this time, I was surprised to find that I felt a little calmer. "One more time..." he said in a soothing voice. Taking another breath, I finally felt the tension fade away.... "Now," he suggested in that same whispering tone, "now that you have regained control over your fear, I know that you can handle yourself once we enter this room—and everything that happens in here stays between us...promise?"

I trusted Bryan, but I still wondered about his intentions. In my newfound calmness, I thought to myself, "What the hell," and nodded my head silently in agreement.

He turned the doorknob but did not open the door. He said to me, still in that quiet tone, "Close your eyes first, and then enter." I closed my eyes, walked into the room, and heard the door close behind me. "Now," he whispered in my ear, "open your eyes!"

Inside a huge, luxurious room, I saw two girls sitting down on the center couch. They both had brown hair but I couldn't see their faces, as their backs were turned to us. One was flipping through the channels on a sixty-inch wide-screen television in the corner.

"Hey!" Bryan exclaimed. "We're back!" They both turned to look in our direction, and I was amazed! These girls were stunningly beautiful, one with a more oval-shaped face and the other with a rounder face, but with identical features otherwise. Both had light brown eyes and only slightly lighter skin, with dark brown hair to match. "Sisters, perhaps?" I mused.

The girl with the rounder face stood up and pointed the remote control in the direction of the TV, turning it off. The other girl got up from her seat, and Bryan reached the other side of the room and embraced each in turn. I stood where I was, unsure of what to do. My nerves were tight, as I was completely intimidated by their beauty!

These were the type of girls that men would sell their souls for in return for one night of sheer pleasure! As I gaped at the girls, Bryan extended his elbows out to either side, and they wrapped their arms around his. He then escorted them around the couch, bringing them over in my direction. I took several deep breaths again, trying to regain the calmness I had experienced just before entering the room—but it didn't work!

Bryan stopped three feet in front of me and introduced the girls: "Jeb, this is Bensia." He gestured toward the girl on his right, the one with the rounder face. Gesturing toward the other girl, he stated, "And this...this is Sebina." They smiled at me and extended their free arms out to me in unison.

Releasing my breath in one slow exhalation, I smiled awkwardly and said, "Nice to meet you...." We all shook hands, forming a circle.

"Nice to meet you, too, Jeb." They had unusual accents. They retained their smiles, however, indicating to me that, perhaps, they actually thought I was decent.

"Okay!" Bryan said, breaking the moment. "Let's all sit down and talk, okay?"

"All right," we said in agreement, and we headed to the couch and took our seats, Bryan in between the two girls on one side of the couch and me on the other side of the couch.

After a moment, Bryan chirped, "Let's listen to some music," and he grabbed another remote from the large glass coffee table and turned on the stereo. Progressive club music poured into the room from the surrounding speakers, but it was not too loud to prevent decent conversation.

"So...how are you girls doing?" I asked. It was the only thing I could think of at the moment.

"Very well, thank you!" they responded in unison, and Bensia added, "...Jeb."

I again noted their unusual accents and, still unsure of where they were from, stated, "You know, I noticed your accents—where are you two from?"

"We are from Venice...you know, Italy?" Bensia answered.

"Really..." I answered, not sure what to say next.

"Why? Have you visited there before?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, no...not yet! But, I think it would be cool to go there."

"Yes...I love it there! It is so beautiful and romantic," she said with a sigh.

"But the men are such pigs!" Sebina interjected. Bryan started to laugh at her comment, and I followed with a chuckle.

Gaining confidence, I asked, "What is a pig to you?"

"A pig is someone..." Sebina collected her thoughts for a second and continued, "who does not respect the values of women. They all think of themselves as...how do you say it...'super-macho!' And they treat us like crap!" Bryan laughed heartily at her innocent comment, and Sebina threw him a sharp glare in return. "Why are you laughing?"

He realized that she was starting to get upset and replied, "Oh, I'm laughing at the term 'super-macho.' Relax, girl!"

"So, how long have you been here in the United States?" I asked, trying to defuse the tension.

"For a week," Bensia answered. "We arrived last Friday."

"So, is Sebina your sister?" I dared to ask.

"No," Bensia answered, laughing. "But she is just like my sister! You know, best friends?"

I laughed in return and nodded my head. "Okay! How is it that you know English so well?"

"All Europeans have to take two years of English. But this is the first time we get to practice it for real!"

"Well, you're better than me," I said. "I took a year of German in high school, but I can't remember a bit of it!" They all laughed. I was finally relaxed now and thoroughly enjoying our conversation.

"All right," Bryan said, leaning forward on the couch and then getting up. He looked at us a little mischievously and stated, "It's time for the treats!" He then exited the room through a different door than the one by which we had entered.

While he was gone, I looked back over at the two girls. "They are so fine," I thought to myself.

"So how much longer do you have to stay here in the U.S.?" I asked.

"We have only one more week left, unfortunately," Bensia answered, turning back to look at me. "There are so many wonderful stores out here..." She laughed a little and then continued, "...and so cheap!"

Sebina started to laugh herself when Bryan appeared from the other room. He had the end of a baggie sticking out from his closed hand. "America is a wonderful place to visit."

"Yeah...but you wouldn't want to live here!" I said. "There are too many super-macho pigs!" That started another round of laughter. Bryan entered between the two far couches and sat himself down on the floor in front of the coffee table. He then opened his hand, revealing a huge bag of white powder tied at the end—it looked like cocaine!

As Bryan poured the powder out of the bag, he asked, "So...what are we laughing about now?"

"We're talking about the differences between Italy and the U.S.," I answered. But I was getting a little nervous about the cocaine, as I had never done it before.

"Really?" Bryan asked as he began to chop up the powder with a credit card.

"Have you done any traveling?" Bensia asked Bryan.

Looking up and then back down at the cocaine, he answered, "Yes...actually, I have. I traveled through Europe last summer, and the year before that, I was in the Orient. The year before that, I was in Russia, and before that, Egypt." He then rolled his eyes back into his head and said in mock disdain, "Oh, yeah! Every year, I went to Hawaii during my winter breaks at school."

"Man!" I said, looking at Bryan in admiration. "You've done all that traveling?"

Smiling at me, he said, "Yes...but I want to do more! Brazil is where I'm thinking of going next summer...." I looked back down at the table and saw that, indeed, there was a huge quantity of cocaine! Bryan was finishing his task, and I looked at the girls. They were watching Bryan in action as he separated it all into lines. After a few more minutes of silence, with only the music in the background, he finished. He offered the straw to me and asked, "Ready?"

I shook my head negatively and said, "I don't think that this is such a good idea...."

"Why not, Jeb?" Without waiting for an answer, he added, "This isn't cocaine—this is a brand-new type of drug just invented, called 'White Gold'—the best! Really it's just like coke, but dogs can't smell it and your blood stays clean."

Looking at me with a questioning face, realization seemed to dawn on him. "Oh...you've never tried this before, have you?" he asked.

I shook my head in answer and shrugged.

"Listen, Jeb," he said, still with that calm face. "Do you think I would let anything bad happen to you?" His mouth presented a small smile, but his eyes were once again pleading. "Come on and try it." I was unsure of what to do. He took advantage of my uncertainty and then suggested, "If you like it, you can have more...if not, that's cool too."

I was unsure of what to say, so I just cocked my eyebrow and took a deep breath. I took the straw and leaned over the table. Without meaning to, I exhaled ever so slightly with the straw in my nose, and the line that I was about to sniff was dispersed! I looked up at Bryan with a guilty expression, and he started to laugh.

"Don't worry about it!" He then advised, "Breathe out first, before you come near the stuff."

I did as he suggested and then leaned over to my new line. Looking back up at Bryan, I took a sniff. Immediately, my vision went blank, and so did everything else! I felt myself leaning back into the couch ever so softly, and I heard a voice whisper in my ear, "How are you feeling?"

Smiling, I could only nod. I felt the white gold begin to crawl its way down my throat. This was the most intense feeling I had ever experienced! I heard the sound of the girls giggling. After an unknown period of time, I felt something warm in my hand; I finally opened my eyes and leaned my head forward—it was Bensia's hand holding mine! I raised my head up to her face—it was hard for me to concentrate—but I saw her face floating before me as if in ether. Her round face was perfect in beauty, and I could only wonder in amazement as to how this was happening to me.

I sniffed again, and another barrage of ecstasy hit my brain; Bensia was still there, looking at me in desire! Smiling back, I tried to form a sentence, and said, "That was...intense!"

Once again, I could hear laughter. Bryan appeared in my field of sight and asked, "So...are you okay?"

I laughed at his question and then nodded my head sluggishly. There was only one thing that wasn't sluggish, but that was a response to Bensia's hand—or so I thought—not holding my hand anymore but stroking me gently. I looked over and realized that Sebina was there to my left—and then I looked down to see that her hand was where I thought Bensia's was! "Whoa!" I thought to myself, smiling and shaking my head in disbelief of the entire event.

"Jeb...," Bryan said to me, after having just sniffed another line. "Do you want to try another? There will be plenty of time for that later!" He then started to laugh and went out of focus for a second..... After I regained my focus, I saw that he was right by my side. "Hey," he asked, with genuine concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

Nodding my head and laughing, I answered, "Yeah...this is awesome! Thanks for the surprise!"

"No problem!" he answered with a big smile on his face. "Try one more and then tell me how you feel. Remember, my friend, I promise that I will always be there for you—if there's anything you need or desire, you need only ask...." I nodded my head and gave Bryan a light hug. This was the type of friend that I could only dream about! He truly cared about me—for me!

I then smiled and took the straw from his hand. Leaning over the table, I took another sniff. The feeling then returned, but this time way more intense! In that next instant, a feeling came over me that I had never before experienced. No longer was I anywhere, but I was immersed in pure light. I could see nothing—not even myself—but that brilliant white light!

Suddenly, a masculine voice surrounded me and said, in a thunderous tone, "Behold, he is the one promised! He is of the chosen; the chosen is of the elect; the elect is of he!" An instant later, I was back in the room with Bryan, Bensia, and Sebina. They were all laughing in exultation, and so was I.

I will not go into further details regarding the events that happened that night—suffice it to say that Bryan and I did not do anything to each other during the evening, but as for myself and Bryan with the two girls, just let me leave you to your imaginations.]]

## Chapter IV

Tribulations

[10/30—Tape-recorded entry]

"Wow...I am seriously pooped out! It's ten in the morning and I'm finally on my way home. I left Bryan and...what were those girls' names? Oh well...I left them all sleeping soundly. I was still way too wired to go to sleep earlier, but that's changed...it's hard for me to even concentrate on the road, I'm so tired now....

"I hope I can make it home...okay, wake up, Jeb...almost there...I wonder how much coke I sniffed last night, or should I say white gold? I really shouldn't be driving now as we finished only an hour ago! Wow...not even ten minutes ago, I felt completely awake, but now, I feel awful...finally...here's my turn! Almost there... Jeb! %$#@! I almost hit that kid on the bike...didn't see him...here's my house! Home sweet home...I'd better not forget this tape recorder...safe at home...oh, %$#@! I totally forgot to call Cheryl last night! Oh %$#@! Here she comes...."

_Cheryl's voice_ : "Where the hell have you been? I've been up all night, worried to death about you! What the hell did you do last night?"

"Cheryl, I...I stayed at Bryan's...we did some serious drinking last night and I didn't feel it was wise to drive home...."

"Well, why didn't you at least give me a %$#@ call? And what's that smell? You...you bastard! How could you screw around on me?"

"Cheryl, listen—"

"No, I'm done with listening...you're out of here!"

"Cheryl...please, at least let me sleep on the couch—then I can get my stuff and move out after I wake up!"

"No, Jeb...you need to get yourself...out of my life forever!"

"Cheryl! Don't cry—just let me get some %$#@ sleep! Please!"

"No...goodbye, Jeb!" _House door slamming; car door opening and closing._

"Damn it! Why the hell didn't I just say no to Bryan? Now I have no place to go! I guess I'm going to have to sleep here, unless Bryan will let me stay there...gotta call him up....bye for now." _Click_

[10/31—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's Halloween tonight, and here I am at Starter's gas station on Royal Road. Instead of partying tonight with Cheryl, I now have to figure out where I'm going to sleep! I woke up about ten minutes ago, but I'm still so freaking tired as hell....

"I just dialed Bryan's cell number yet again, but with no success. The phone rang about ten times but nobody picked up...that jerk! Now I have nowhere to go...but should I really get mad at him? The question is, where am I going to sleep now? The weather is getting colder every day, and I'm not going to be able to sleep in my Lopar for too much longer.

"Well, now I'm in a worse position than before....I shouldn't have gone partying as much as I did! Then I might have had some money saved up so I could get my own place! I have, like, sixty bucks total to my name! That woman took my ATM card while I was asleep today, went to the bank, and she took out three hundred-fifty dollars for the rent...and all without asking me how I was going to take care of myself! To top it off, I'm pissed the hell off because she threw all my stuff out on the lawn from the second floor sometime during the day! Anybody could have had free grabs at my stuff! Damn! On the positive side, nobody took my stuff—at least I don't think so; and at least it didn't rain today! Well, where the hell can I sleep tonight? Maybe I should try calling Bryan again—I'll try calling him again at Victor's gas—maybe he'll have his phone by then." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"It's 10:15 P.M. now. I'm still waiting here at Victory gas station, but Bryan hasn't picked up! Screw this...I'm going to head over to his house and knock on the door! I do remember him telling me last night that if I needed anything, just ask! Maybe he can help me out and let me stay there tonight—yeah, that's what I'm going to do!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Well, James had been given "explicit directions" not to let me in the house—it appears that I am not worthy of even talking to Bryan! He wouldn't even let me in the gate! I can't believe them %$#@ yuppies! They get some money and then they become %$#@ corrupt! I think we should overthrow our current government! Give the power back to the people! Two hundred years ago, the American colonies got sick of the taxes imposed upon them by the British. They had the Boston Tea Party and their conspiracy began a revolution—the Revolutionary %$#@ War!

"What the hell am I going to do now? I know—I'm going to go to the Club Midnight tonight by myself! Screw it! Where else do I have to go? Maybe I'll meet a chick or something—them two Italian girls thought I was cute! If I can do it once, I can do it again, right? Yes...." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"It's 11:30 PM now, Halloween night, and I'm close to the club. I already stopped at the Speedy gas station at Clark and Chicago. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth there, and after that, I changed into my best partying clothes, so I can look good! I also got some coffee, so I'm feeling a bit more awake now—damn it! Some taxi driver just cut me off! I had to slam on my brakes not to hit the bastard! These guys should be forced to retake their driving tests!

"Almost there...Bryan was right about one thing, though—this deep-breathing exercise does seem to work! Okay, here's a parking space, and it's only about two blocks short of the club. Well, I'm going to say this short prayer on the tape recorder: Dear God, whoever you are...whatever you are...give me strength to overcome my challenges, for sometimes, I feel so weak! Show me the might of your power and give me courage against overwhelming enemies. Amen...." _Click_

[11/01—Tape-recorded entry]

"The air is becoming colder by the day. Last night, it got down to freezing temperatures—I had to put on my winter coat to keep warm while trying to sleep inside my junky car..... I kept waking up, from either the cold or the cramped conditions! Even though I got a few hours of sleep last night, I still called in sick at work so that I could look for a new place to stay...but where the hell am I going to stay? Back at the halfway house? Hell no! I don't know what to do....

"Oh—guess what Cheryl neglected to give me? My notebooks! I'm also missing the first three chapters of my book—I need to retrieve those from her tonight, after she gets off work....Also, although I have so little money, I had to purchase a couple of new batteries for my tape recorder—I will explain why momentarily. It all began last night, after I had parked the Lopar and was making my way toward the club....

"I was walking the last block, and I wasn't paying attention to my surroundings, except for the sign that blinked luminescent, on and off—after all, I was freezing last night and was only thinking about getting inside and getting my hands on a nice beer to warm my insides—and although I might have been in his way or something, this dude came out of nowhere and hit me full force with his shoulder! I fell backward and hit the ground, my hands catching my fall, and the hard impact with the sidewalk stunned me for a moment. After recovering, I looked at my hands and noticed that they were cut up and bleeding! I then noticed that the bastard hadn't even bothered to stop!

"'Hey!' I yelled, turning my head around to look for the dude. 'Watch where you're going!' He was just about to cross the street at the other end of the block and turned around ominously.

"'What did you say, you little worm?!' It was then that I noticed just how big this dude was! He was at least six-in-a-half feet tall and two hundred and fifty pounds or so—I am only five-foot-seven and a hundred and twenty-four pounds myself—and not only was he a big son of a gun, but when I looked into his face, I saw what can only be classified as pure evil! He had a black goatee, and his hair was completely shaven, including his eyebrows. But what really freaked me out was the fact that his eyes were pitch black, too—even from that distance, I could tell that there were no whites to them, as if they were two big pupils! My heart began pounding hard and I found myself gasping for air.

"Again, he bellowed, 'Well, you %$#@ maggot?!' Despite the overwhelming pressure in my chest, I forced myself to stand up. I refused to be beaten by this man in some contest of wills; I didn't care if I got the crap kicked out of me then—for what else do I have? I have no life anyway! I don't even have a place to call home! These thoughts swarmed in my mind and somehow gave me sudden courage.

"My anger swelled, but my deep breathing had given me a sense of control as well, and I was able to growl back at him, 'Watch where the %$#@ you're going!' Something about my ferocity made the man pause—his facial expression changed to one of curiosity, his left eye squinting and his right eyebrow raised, as if he pondered what aces I might be holding. Unfortunately, that pause only lasted about three seconds or so—I guess he realized that I couldn't have been holding any cards at all and decided to rid himself of the puny insect that was me!

"He started to approach me—at first slowly, but then his pace increased—and within a few seconds, he was galloping at me with full force! To top it off, his face was filled with pure rage! I'm not sure of the exact timing, but what is certain to me about this event is that, though I was initially petrified, by the time he was about to overtake me, I felt no fear whatsoever!

"As _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ had suggested, I positioned my feet in a 45-degree angle, and my hands came together to form a fist, as I uttered the simple prayer that was instructed: 'The serpent wise protects one from all lies!' My breathing suddenly became completely calm and my mind focused. Within a few seconds, the anger within me completely disappeared.

"Though I did not see or feel anything specific, something about his demeanor also changed. He stopped in his tracks, not ten feet from where I was standing, and just stared at me. Without letting my facial expression betray me, I thought to myself, 'How strange!' His feet assumed the same position as my own, and he then clasped his hands together with a loud clap. 'There's power in this one!' I thought to myself.

"He said something, though I don't know what language it was in, and then he turned around and began to walk away from me. After a few moments, I breathed out a big sigh and relaxed. As I stared after him, I noticed something astonishing—he had already reached the other end of the block and was moving inhumanly fast!

"'Very strange!' I said, this time aloud. I turned around only to feel a sharp stinging sensation in my hands. The backs of my hands were okay, but when I looked at my palms, I could see that they were all torn up and bloody from their impact with the sidewalk. And then the pain hit me. It seared throughout my hands, and there was nothing I could do—I didn't want to wipe them on my shirt, and I didn't have a first aid kit. So I decided to use the bathroom in Club Midnight to clean them up.

"As I walked up the alleyway that led to the club, I could hear the booming sounds of the music through the walls. But as I tried to open the doors, I discovered that they were locked; then I observed a note taped to the center of the door. It said, 'Private party in session—Entrance by invite only.' Needless to say, I was pretty pissed off at the way things were going for me! And my hands were hurting again, so I headed back to the car with my busted-up hands. The beer money came in handy after all, as I went to a 24-hour store and bought a first-aid kit. My hands are bandaged up now—if I hadn't bought the batteries for my tape recorder, I'm sure it would have taken me many more painful hours just to write down last night's very strange event!" _Click_

[11/2—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's 6:25 P.M. Last night, things didn't go so well for me—I called Cheryl but only got her answering machine. As I don't get paid till Friday, I realize that I need to keep the thirty bucks I have left till then; I don't even have enough money or gas to go to McCurrn and back! I also tried to call Bryan, but he didn't pick up his phone, either. I also called Pete. Of course, Christine won't let me stay there, even now that I have a good job; besides, Pete has no extra money to loan me because of his bills, so I'm stuck.... I guess that when I _really_ need people, they are never there—and so the only person that I can totally rely on is myself!

"Right now, I am sitting in the parking lot of Telexia. I worked some O.T. today so that I'll have a little extra money in my next paycheck—unless, of course, Cheryl decides to take some more out! The sun will be going down in another half hour, so I'll probably just get the extra sleep—after all, I have nothing else to do!

"I have decided to keep _Magick_ instead of returning it to the library. There might be some useful information in here to help me get out of this rut—like spells and stuff! However, to keep the dissolution going, I am going to read _The Day of Judgment_ and then _Magick_ again—basically I'll keep going back and forth between both books. Then, I'll write down whatever I learn...right now I'm going to read aloud:

[[Chapter II: The Houses of Evil

Let us now dig into the heart of these "esoteric" or "hidden" groups mentioned in my last chapter. Though their motives and methods might slightly differ from one another, all eventually reach the same conclusion. Let me elaborate for you....

The type of power that they utilize to accomplish their goals comes from the same source: Satan! This character plays a very significant role in determining the directions that the organization follows! These men and women, though they rule the whole of humanity to a certain extent, are ultimately the slaves of this master manipulator—though most do not know it! That's because it is this master manipulator who lures unsuspecting people into his personal lair of traps! Most aspiring occultists are not even aware that the trap has already been set...until it is too late! As we Christians know, the Truth is already within ourselves—Jesus Christ. For He said, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No man can come to the father but by me."

Before any can proceed within the ranks of the occultists, a system of tests and trials is given, and a term of probation is begun. These tests and trials are not only set for the individual and his/her desire to "become a member," but also benefit the order. If a level of trust is found between the order and the candidate, then initiation occurs.

Initiations really are nothing more than rewards given to those that have established the Order's trust. As I have stated before, I once belonged. A year before my departure from the occult world, I was given the "Task of the Adept." During this particular initiation, which was required to become an "Adept of the Order," I was asked to spit upon the cross that lay in the center of the occupied room. In front of the so-called Masters, I committed that dreadful act—and once I had performed it to their satisfaction, establishing their trust, I was greeted with hugs and kisses and recognized as having "become."

After that, I became confused and lost without my personal Savior. Thank Jesus that I was forgiven for my diabolical act! After my promotion to Adept, I was then allowed to observe others go through that horrible initiation. Those who repeated my sinful act were also promoted...but those who didn't were dutifully informed, "A true adept would never blaspheme any religious symbol whatsoever—very good!" However, their progress immediately ceased and they were gradually shunned from the community....

Within my final year, I had made it to the top of the ladder, ultimately becoming a Master myself. It was then that the "Wholeness of the Mysteries" was revealed to me. Of these "Mysteries," the first item that I wish to discuss concerns the American dollar bill. The origins of the two great seals on the back can be traced to our founding fathers, Benjamin Franklin, a renowned Rosicrusianist, and John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, both of the Masonic Order! These three were commissioned on the day of our independence from Great Britain to construct them. It was Benjamin Franklin, after being appointed Ambassador to France and on a tour of that country, who ran across an individual named Dr. Adam Weishaupt, the founder of the Illuminati.

The Order of the Bavarian Illuminati was in desperate need of members. Shortly before Benjamin's arrival, Adam had been seeking recruits that he believed had enough "illumination" to rule the whole of humanity. He searched for these recruits within various orders and lodges, including the masons. Adam Weishaupt's reputation was not the best, and many of these orders became alarmed and warned him about his activities. The Order probably would have failed had he not ran across old "Benny"! As it turns out, Benny not only favored the Order but also came to its rescue. Because of this interjection, the newly entitled "Order of the Illuminati" not only survived but thrived. Adam Weishaupt, out of gratitude, helped Benny to construct the seals, with specific meanings implied. The meanings are explained below.

Directly above the "All-seeing One Eye" pyramid, on the left seal, can be found the Latin expression, "ANNUIT COEPTIS," and below, floating on a banner, "NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM." Translated into English, its meaning is "Announcing the Birth of the New World Order." Just at the base of the pyramid can be found the Roman numerals "MDCCLXXVI," which translates to the year 1776. Most people are duped into believing that this year signifies only our "independence." The truth of the matter is that on the date of May 1, 1776, an actual "New World Order" had been created, under the name of the Illuminati. The pyramid itself symbolizes the pyramids of Egypt, where many ancient initiations took place. On the top of the pyramid, an eye rests, looking up to the heavens. This cannot be indicative of God, who looks down upon us from the heavens, but of something else, something diabolical.

Within the right seal, above the eagle, can be found thirteen stars. These stars hold a pattern, if you look closely. That pattern is known as the Seal of Solomon, represented by the hexagram. Let us go now to the eagle. If you trace the outline of the eagle, we shall find yet another hexagram. On the banner that the eagle holds in its beak, the Latin expression "E Pluribus Unum" can be found, which means, "One out of the many." What does this phrase imply? Again, I state, Adam's mission was to find the "illuminated" within the other orders. The eagle also holds thirteen berries with thirteen leaves on an olive branch in one claw, and thirteen arrows in the other. Thirteen is the number of Apostles that Jesus had until his betrayal. The eagle looks toward the olive branch on its right, our left. These, too, have symbolism, with a purpose in mind. The olive branch symbolizes peace, while the berries and leaves are the results of that peace. The arrows symbolize war and military power. The connection between all of these symbols is that the "One out of the many" can be achieved through the unification of peace, but also with the power to back it up with war, if necessary!

There is much more symbolism to be found within these two seals, but let us focus on the pyramid again. If you were to take the pyramid and reverse it (turn it upside down), you would then get another hexagram. Now, touch base with each of the points and see what is spelled. The word "MASON" does become evident! And at the top, supervising it all, is none other than the "Master." Given this cleverly hidden third hexagram, we see that there are now three hexagrams evident within these two seals (6-6-6 or the Antichrist!).

To confirm this for you, I shall use the words of Blake T. Powers, a 33rd degree Mason who was legendary for his writings. In his book, _The Underlying Goal of the United States_ , he writes, "It is a fact that when the United States Government was first conceived, most of its founders were bound by secret oaths themselves, many being Masons, sowing the seeds of a new way of life under the cause of world democracy. Only a select few, however, knew the secret purpose for which the United States was established, and even fewer knew that the United States was receiving aid from a Secret Society that had long existed in Europe."

It was when my final grade of "Master" had been achieved that I discovered the goal that we all awaited. If you will notice from the aforesaid paragraphs, there seems to be a spirit of struggle in progress. It will not be until The Maitreya—meaning the "Ascended Master," but what we know as the Antichrist—comes that the whole of the diversified orders shall be united by the Spear of Destiny! The Spear of Destiny is the actual spear that was imbedded into Jesus Christ as he hung on the Cross. This Maitreya shall also become the primary leader of the UN—which will soon become destroyed and reborn itself!

It wasn't until I met Jim Robbins, a saved Christian, that I first learned about our Messiah. He told me of our Lord Jesus's sacrifice, so that we no longer have to do it ourselves! Of course, it took several years of "un-brainwashing" to finally be rid of my darkened past...and I finally accepted the Light!]]

"Whew—reading all that was exhausting! I think I'll head over to Lenny's and read _Magick_ —I'm pretty thirsty now!" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—After ordering dinner at Lenny's Diner, near work in Rollingbrook, I began to read the next chapter of _Magick_ , which read as follows:

[[Chapter IV – The Order

What is an order, exactly? The term "order" derives from the Latin word "ordo," which means straight row. Webster's dictionary has twelve different definitions for this word:

#1) Social position

#2) A state of peace; orderly conduct

#3) Arrangement of things or events; series

#4) A definite plan; system

#5) A military, monastic, or social brotherhood

#6) A condition in which everything is in its place and working properly

#7) Condition in general [in good order]

#8) An authoritative command, instruction, etc.

#9) A class; kind

#10) An established method, as of conduct in meetings, etc.

#11) A request to supply something [an order of books] b) the goods supplied

#12) [usually plural] The position of ordained minister, priest, etc. [to take holy orders]

I wish to focus upon #5 ("A military, monastic, or social brotherhood").

#1) A – the state of being

#2) Military – symbolic of power, in a combative (animalistic) sense

#3) Monastic – symbolic of power, in a holy (godly) sense

#4) Social – symbolic of power, in a companion (humanistic) sense

#5) Or – a synonymous word or phrase

#6) Brotherhood – symbolic of power in the bond between brothers (those of like minds)

Since the beginning of time, there have been orders of many kinds, some public and some not so public; some good, some not so good—yet all claim to have acquired this most mysterious truth of the universe! Before I commence to give you several actual examples of orders that have existed or might still possibly exist, I would like to add one more definition to the word "order": the opposite of chaos.

Chaos is considered by the majority to be both the enemy and the opposite of order. They view chaos as not only unacceptable, but actually quite frightening. In Webster's Dictionary, it is annotated from the ancient Greek word for "space" and means "extreme confusion or disorder." Chaos is what men and women fear; it is symbolic of the chaotic Devil, the enemy of the ordered God—Chaos Vicegerent! Chaos is merely another interpretation of Hell, meaning a place of agony.

Order was first established by our interpretation of it immediately following the Great Sin, and our eyes were opened: "Eat of this tree and ye shall be as gods!" Once order had been initially established here upon Earth, it was immediately followed by awareness and, with that, desires of the mind. Then developed shame, recollection, learned lessons, more ideals, values, beliefs, and ultimately, religions, each transcending our nature, each trying to better explain our origins, our present, our future, good and evil, demons and angels, God and the Devil. And many, many different systems of gods have been created since the beginning of time, some polytheistic and some monotheistic; yet almost all Gods, to some degree or another, resembled something that could be identified with or experienced.

For instance, the idea of Zeus was inspired by the lightning bolt. Jesus was identified with the dove and the lamb; Jehovah, the mountain; and Amen-Ra, the sun. Few identified with "the hidden." Some religions have made it, some have merely changed, and many are long forgotten. And there are those, of course, that remain "hidden," or "occult." The word "occult" comes from the ancient Latin word "occulere," meaning "to conceal." It implies hidden knowledge. Now, why is there knowledge that must be hidden? As you are well aware, there are negative connotations involved with the concept of "hidden" or "occult," due to the influence of the media and popular religions. It has always been this way since the beginning of time.

For example, you hear of cult leaders such as Jerry Johnson (a Christian gone sour), who launched a mass suicide with almost a thousand people; "Satanic killers" such as Percy Sawyer, who spawned others to do his bidding; or the Nazis, whose occult-like tendencies clashed with the Semites. You hear of empires, such as the Ancient Roman, Greek, Persian, Chinese, Japanese, Celtic, Aztec, Mayan, and even Christian, and of the unfortunate innocents that happened to get in their way during their ruthless conquests. You hear of mythologies of the ancient religions, all claiming and believing themselves to be the true one at one time or another. You hear of end-of-the-world conspiracies from almost every group. All of these are falsely associated with the occult and give the word a bad name.

The truth is, true occultists, or those who practice the hidden knowledge, must remain hidden from the ruthless attacks levied against us by the masses of the ignorant. Since the beginning of time, we have been labeled, have been judged, have been slaughtered, our wives raped, our children kicked in the head in front of our eyes. Examples of this can be found throughout history but are usually distorted in favor of the masses: Knights Templar, Christopher Columbus and the Aztecs, the Gnostics, the Spanish Inquisition, the Salem Witch Trials, etc. There are many more tragic examples that have long been buried in history; yet more truths become revealed through archaeological excavations.

As you may have realized from the above examples, there are two sides to every coin! There are the pros and the cons, there are the positives and the negatives, there are the hopes and dreams, and there are the hopelessness and the nightmares. It is a matter of choice in the way one looks at it. It's actually another matter to transcend above it all!

Since the beginning of time, it has been assumed by almost all of mankind that all have eaten of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil—but this is simply preposterous, as you can see that the ignorance of mankind prevails! But there are those who are selected to help deliver a message. These are the ones who have consciously and voluntarily eaten from this Tree—and these are the ones that now promote the concept of an everlasting peace between brothers and sisters of all nations, religions, cultures, and castes, for the universal pursuit of the Divine, or Order! With that, when one applies order to one's life, one also applies oneself to the ancient knowledge and modernistic philosophies that are so profound and revealing that one's eyes are indeed "opened" to the ignorance of the people as a whole....

Before one can become a member of any true order, whether modern or ancient, a probationary period is established to scrutinize the trustworthiness of the would-be candidate. And in return, the level of trust should be tested upon the validity of that "true order," sometimes falsely labeled. Any true order will not mind this reverse scrutiny—they welcome it! When the trust has been established, initiation occurs progressively. Of course, the definition of "initiation" is "admittance via a secret ceremony."

The title bestowed by most orders upon the initiate is neophyte, meaning born again. After all, the intention of this first level, or grade, is to shed the skin and become reborn anew! It is during the ritual itself that the public name of the initiate is discarded in favor of a new name, otherwise known as a "magickal" name. In the psychological mechanisms of the brain, a change occurs that expands the mind of the neophyte; previous realms and worlds, which were at first barred, now become channels through which one learns the true value of the neophyte name.

It is a rarely known fact that Yeheshua (Jesus) was one of these initiates! He belonged to the B'nai-Amen Temple Order (BATO), or Children of God. This BATO is what Yeheshua (Jesus) refers to when he describes the Kingdom of Heaven in the New Testament, and the heart of this order lies in Nazareth! In confirmation, it is written in Matthew 2:23: "He shall be called a Nazarene!" To expound further on the constitution of the BATO, its members were composed of the advanced level of the Nazarenes, or the "elite sect," helping to bring forth the chosen ones to humanity. These advanced levels of Truth are exactly what Yeheshua fulfilled with his prophecies! As Yeheshua states, "I have not come to abolish the Law, only to fulfill."

The early church, of course, corrupted the Bible for its own personal gain and power, but, slowly, through our advanced technologies, the Truth is being made manifest once again! It was at Mount Carmel that the spiritual stronghold of the Nazarenes lay. It was this place that was spoken of with great reverence by the ancient Egyptian priests, and the place where Pythagoras, the father of mathematics and philosophy himself, studied!

Jesus Christ knew of our secret brotherhood, as His messages were composed of parables—earthly messages with Heavenly meanings. Of course, "sisters" were included too, as can be demonstrated by Mary Magdalene's visit to the gravesite and of the "revealing" of Himself to and through her. What allowed him to do this was a Word of Power that was given unto Him. That allowed Him to transcend death, becoming a "Babe of the Abyss," yet also acquiring the same focal points as God the Father: "Lest ye be as little children, ye shall never enter the Kingdom of Heaven!"

"What is this word?" you ask. "What in the world could it be?" It was a name that was given unto him from two different sources. The first was man-made, as is true of all religions. He was taught this during his stay in Egypt by the priestesses of Isis. For, you see, Isis received her power from Amen-Ra, the Sun God. In gratitude to Amen-Ra for his gift, she bore him a child through her priestess named Mary and called him Emmanuel. Although there is one period found upon Egyptian papyrus that states that Thoth, the god of Wisdom, is actually the father of Amen-Ra, we shall not worry about this possibility, as it would only increase the significance of Amen-Ra anyway. It would confirm that Jesus assumed the identity of Amen-Ra, in regards to the sun's rising and falling every day.

These are but a few examples of occult knowledge! This truly is a time of revelation, or revealing, for the individual! Already, I can hear what is being whispered in your minds: "Blasphemy!" Is it? Have I degraded the messages of Christ? Christ was an occultist, but only one example of many! His messages were spoken in parables; his intentions were to help humanity evolve! It is those who follow in his name that have truly degraded his message! But Christians are not the only ones who have committed these acts of treachery....

There is something here that I wish to bring up with you, the reader: Since the beginning of time, all races, religions, and classes of people have been among the victims and the abusers, so the time has come! The time has come to focus on peace and evolution—for this is the definition of our progressive humanism! The time has come to begin the next progression of our race as a whole and to create a new order—this is the definition of our new purpose! The time has come to live life with love and the pursuit of wisdom and truth—this is the definition of our new philosophy! The time has come to aspire to unite with the Universal Creator found within the Tree of Life—this is the definition of our new religion! The time has come to discover your absolute will and become reborn—this is the definition of MagicK!]]

I remember sitting there, in a diner in boring old Rollingbrook, absolutely awestruck! Never before had I read anything like this—words completely failed me, except for one word that kept rolling over and over in my head: "Yes...yes...yes...."

As I sat there, oblivious to the real world, I was brought back to reality by a cold chill that suddenly struck my shoulder. Looking up from the book and over at my shoulder, my eyes caught a large group of people who had just entered the restaurant. I observed that they were all darkly dressed, male and female, all with long hair. As they walked into the lobby and waited for their hostess, I was able to count nine of them—five males and four females. Besides their unusual gothic attire, I also observed that they wore silver necklaces with silver five-pointed star pendants hanging from each of their necks. The lights in the room reflected brilliantly off the pendants!

At first, their presence didn't bother me, as I was used to the other gothics that hung out here on occasion, so I looked back down at my book, commencing to read the next chapter.

After a few minutes, however, their obnoxious comments and laughter made it impossible to continue my reading. Looking over at them, I could see that they were becoming visibly irritated at not having been seated; glancing around the room, I could see that the restaurant had become quite full, and the waitresses were scrambling around furiously to keep up. The other patrons began throwing scowls and fearful glances at the intruders, thereby heightening the tension. Still, they didn't seem to care how busy the restaurant was and only got louder. I looked back down at my book and tried, once again, to read.

Suddenly, a shrill laugh pierced the room. Glancing up in irritation, I noticed that it was one of the gothic chicks—I supposed that she might have been fairly attractive if it wasn't for all that thick, black makeup all over her face—and her head turned toward me before I could look away, almost as if she had sensed my gaze. I then took several deep breaths and tried to concentrate on the material before me.

Just then, I heard one of the gothic males yell, "Hey! Where's our %$#@ service? Okay, then, we'll just take this table...thank you!" I glanced up and saw them taking empty seats at a dirty table in the center of the room.

One of the louder males piped up, saying, "Clean-up, center aisle, center table...thank you!" The rest of the gothic clan began to laugh. I was becoming quite irritated at the constant interruptions, and it appeared that I wasn't the only one, judging from all the stares they were drawing from the other patrons. They didn't seem to care, though, and only got louder and more obnoxious.

I closed my eyes and resumed my deep breathing exercises, and within moments, my mind had calmed down; I could feel myself being drawn back to the next chapter. Opening my eyes, I glanced down at the words before me, becoming fully absorbed once more. I read the following chapter:

[[ _Magick_ : Chapter V – The Tree of Life

Know that the Tree of Life is essentially a "Jacob's Ladder," a "symbolic road map to God, the Maker!" One needs no one else to activate the Tree of Life, to essentially enable the "Holiest of Holies," except for the One. But it is much easier if the One is amongst his peers of like minds, for support and encouragement through the "Life-Staking Process!" Let me explain:

That is what an Order is for—for the "Many to assist the One to the All!" And initiation into any true Order should set itself upon no less than the aforementioned standards! The Tree of Life is the Truest Method, as we climb from one branch to the next, ultimately elevating ourselves to the highest levels of the Supernal Triad; the IAO. In another chapter of this book, I will discuss the esoteric meanings of IAO in full. For now, let me satiate your curiosity as to what IAO is: It is the key to all keys!

Upon the Tree of Life, there are ten spheres to be found, each symbolic of one divine aspect of God! It is the Serpent, so mysteriously spoken of, that is the Vehicle of Transcendence. The strengthening of the mind, and then the submission of the personal will to the Universal Will! The Universal Will is also known as the 'Collective Consciousness,' 'YHVH,' 'Allah,' 'YHShVH,' 'Thutmose,' 'Hermes Trismegistus,' 'Amen,' 'Ahura Mazda,' or, in layman's terms, God, the Father. The reason that we shall begin in reverse order is so that your 'initiations' become much easier to understand—thus, you will know what to expect!

At the top of the Tree rests the top sphere of Kether—and this Hebraic title means the "Dwelling Place of God, the Father." This Sphere is also known as "The Crown of God." Here rests the first part of the Supernal Triad, and its color is the color of no colors—or Pearly White—reflecting absolutely everything—symbolically known to be the Gate to Heaven. It is the Pearl mentioned in the NT, to which one gives all of his/her riches and glories! The results are simply known as the "Sunnum Bonum—Perfect Peace and Everlasting Joy!"

Just below and to the right of the sphere of Kether rests another sphere, and its Hebraic title of Chokmah means "Wisdom." It is the second part of the Supernal Triad, representing the Son, and its color is gray, as it reflects the balance between Light and Darkness. The Transcendence from the sphere of Chokmah to the sphere of Kether comes through the Word that the Father confers to the Son—the blessings, if you will, to which the Son is entitled. Remember, "No man can come to the Father, but by me!" The Father that creates the Son, and the Son that becomes the Father, and so on, and so on.

Next, we come to that of Binah, meaning "Understanding." Its place is on the left side of the tree, adjacent to the sphere of Chokmah, and it is the final piece to the Supernal Triad. Its color is pitch-black and reflects absolutely nothing.

Understanding can be attained through the continuous feminine act of compassion throughout one's life, until death! To elaborate: a daughter adoring her mother and father, a wife for her husband, a mother for her children, a grandmother for her grandchildren, a crone for everyone, until death.

Our power first becomes established within the Supernal Triad, through the Ruach, or "Holy Spirit"! And it can only be through our compassion for humanity that we can transcend the previously "false" sphere on the Tree of Life, known in Hebrew as Da'ath, vulgarly meaning "Death"! It is the original Hebraic meaning of Da'ath that we shall scrutinize! The "death" that is referred to is not a physical death at all, but really a renouncing of the aspirations, the experiences, and the knowledge that has been accrued up to this point, in favor of that which is greater. It simply means that, "We become as little children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, the Supernal Triad," for death is only illusory to the eye of the True Aspirant. For there is that which lies "beyond...."]]

It was then that I heard a voice drawing me back to reality once again. I looked up in response to a question being asked of me by this female voice.

"Hey! What'cha reading?"

"Huh?" I asked, looking up in a daze. It was the gothic female who had caught me looking at her earlier. Now that I had a closer look at her, I noticed that she was indeed quite attractive, in an exotic sort of way. Slightly wavy, raven-colored hair cascaded down the sides of her face. She had sea-blue eyes and painted black lips—definitely very pretty eyes and face, but a horrible-horrible-horrible makeup job! As my eyes strayed lower, they caught the reflection of light from a silver pentacle that hung just below her full breasts.

"Are you not paying attention to me?" she asked, laughing shrilly.

"Um, actually, I was just reading my book," I answered truthfully.

"Good," she said coyly. "He can talk." She started to smile, a peculiar smile, and asked, "Aren't you going to answer my first question?"

"Didn't I answer it for you?" I asked.

"You answered my second question, but not my first," she replied.

"Oh...I'm reading this." I put my finger within the book as a bookmark, closing it and showing her the front cover.

" _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ ," she read aloud. She looked back up at me and asked curiously, "Interesting...are there any cool spells in there? Do you believe in magic?"

"Well, it's not actually a spell book," I answered, taking a quick breath. "It's about ancient philosophies and systems of belief in our past, and the peoples that were persecuted for those beliefs." I then laid the book down on the table, still opened to the page I had been reading.

"Really," she said, intrigued by my answer. "Do you know about witches?"

"Um...no, not really," I answered, truthfully. "Just that they cast spells and fly on brooms."

"No, it's much, much more than that!" she exclaimed. "It's a religion, too, you know."

"Finally," I remember thinking to myself, "someone interesting to talk to...." I looked at the clock to discover that it was 10:45 P.M. Realizing that I had a little more time to waste, I decided to get involved in a theological discussion.

"Really," I said with interest. "Tell me about your religion."

"It actually has come from several different cultures, from the ancient Romans and their worshipping of Venus...to the Egyptians and their Isis...to the Greeks and their Athena! We were much more savage then, with the women being in charge! The man's place was by her side."

"I think that all should be considered equal," I chipped in.

"Equal? It is the Moon Goddess who cools the earth from the fiery sun! Without her, we would all be toast!" She started to laugh again. "It is She who controls the savage tempers of the oceans and keeps the land and earth separated! It is also She who grants us the control to do as our wills tell us...to practice her magic between time and space, above and below, for good and evil, thus being the protectors of the land!" She seemed pretty serious about what she was saying.

"I see," I finally answered, after a pause. "That's interesting...I never heard it put that way before! But if it wasn't for the sun, the moon would have no gravity and it would be lost in space or even crash into us! The earth would spin out of control, and thus, we would we die—without light!"

As I said the word "die," my hands came together to emphasize the part about crashing. My left hand, however, swept under some of the pages of _Magick_ and flipped it back to the front of the inside cover. I was laughing at my analogy and not paying attention to what I had done. Then my eyes glanced down at the book, only to discover that the inside panel of the front cover had a symbol on it—a picture of a red snake on a white background, trying to eat its own tail! It was exactly the same design as I had seen on the Web site of the Order of the Seclorum Serpente!

I felt it strange that I hadn't noticed it before; I looked back up, still in disbelief, when my eyes once again caught sight of the pentacle. Goose bumps erupted up and down my arms, and a tingling sensation crept up my spine. When my eyes strayed upward to her pale face, I was shocked to see that the makeup had mysteriously vanished! Everything about her face was perfectly shaped—her blue eyes radiated with a new brightness, and I could feel myself sinking into them, as she had become a vision of beauty and mystery. I looked away and rubbed my eyes to clear them of this seeming illusion.

I cleared my throat and apologized. "I'm sorry...that was weird, wasn't it?"

"No," she sighed. "It wasn't...." When I looked back at her, I could see that she was normal again—but I didn't think it possible to forget that image!

I cleared my throat and said, "So...what's your name?"

"My name is Crystal! Yours?" she asked brightly.

"I'm Jeb," I answered, and immediately felt the chills and goose bumps again. A shadow dimmed the light from my left side, and I looked over to discover the gothic ringleader standing over us—he didn't look too happy, either.

"Jared," Crystal said quickly, "this is my new friend, Jeb! Jeb, this is my boyfriend, Jared...." Fortunately for me, her sincerity seemed to confuse Jared for a moment. He looked over at me, and I nodded my head in greeting.

Extending my hand, I explained, "Crystal was telling me about your belief system. To be honest, I was caught off guard by her sincerity...." He took my hand and glanced at it for a second. He closed his eyes for a second, as if concentrating, and then suddenly opened them and stared directly into mine.

"Hey, Jeb—nice to meet you...." His tone didn't sound threatening, but neither was it friendly. He slowly released my extended hand. Sitting down next to Crystal, he asked, "Do you mind if me and the gang join your little discussion?"

"Sure, if you'd like," I answered with a shrug.

He whistled over his shoulder and said, in a commanding tone, "Guys! Over here!" Within moments, the table was surrounded. Another girl took the seat next to mine. This one had blonde hair and a petite body but was not attractive at all in the face.

Crystal looked over at Jared and asked, "Jared, can I read his palm?"

Jared, after eyeing me again, nodded his head and said, "Sure...."

"Can I?" she asked me with a pleading look in her eyes.

After surveying my new "gang," I answered, "Why not?" I extended my hand across the table, and she took it gently into hers and opened it, with my palm facing outward for her to read. After carefully tracing the lines on my palm with her index finger, she closed her eyes.

Several seconds later, she started to speak. Her index finger crept slowly along one of the lines, and she said, "This one has come far and experienced much, according to the heart line. He is to be some sort of leader in the future, but of what, I am uncertain. I sense a series of great tragedies in his future, but it is only by overcoming them that he can truly lead! His heart will be greatly confused for a while." She paused for a moment. "That is all I get from this line." She paused for another moment, but her eyes remained closed. Her fingers gingerly worked their way up another line.

"According to this break here," she continued, "I see a great tragedy that will occur in your life..... It will not end your life, per se, but you will be reborn! I sense that family members will be involved and that they will be your weakness as well your strength, but you have much help coming to you! Wait, I am now seeing disruptions in your life from sources that are very great in power—their power is corrupt and they will attempt to take you down...a contest of wills begins!"

Crystal broke out of her trance abruptly. "Whoo!" she breathed out. "I lost focus there for a second! What was I saying?"

"How could she not remember what she just told me?" I thought. The only possible answer I could think of was that she was on some serious drugs—therefore, her credibility as a psychic was gone.

Looking at the clock, I noticed that the time was 11:45 P.M. "Definitely time for me to go!" I thought. "Gotta go get some sleep...."

"Guys," I said apologetically, "I've got work tomorrow—perhaps we can meet up sometime soon?"

"Yeah," Jared said, with a strange tone in his voice. "That sounds like a good idea. How about tomorrow night, right here?" I became nervous, gesturing for the blonde female to move so that I could leave.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked. She still didn't move but looked over at Jared. I looked over to see Jared nodding his head, and the blond female finally stood up. As I got up, the group made an opening for me, and Jared stood, stating, "It was a pleasure to meet you...Jeb."

Nodding my head and trying not to gulp, I said, "Nice to meet you, too, Jared. Tomorrow night, it is...." I could feel their stares upon my back as I started to head through the tight hallway for the exit. There had been no obvious threat or altercation, but strangely, I was aware of a feeling of terror building within me, and once out of the restaurant, I bolted for the car! By the time I had reached the Lopar, I looked back to see them all watching me through the window—all of them except Crystal. Only after taking off and driving ten blocks did I remember my book, which was still lying on the table in the restaurant....]]

[11/03—Loose notebook paper]

Well, it's 12:15 A.M., and I'm back in the car with the interior light on so that I can write this, as my tape-recorder is nowhere to be found—I'm sitting in the parking lot of Telexia, as I still have no place to call home. But, man, I'll tell you...holy %$#@! That was a freaky experience! I just ran into these gothics, and they freaked the %$#@ out of me! Unfortunately, I forgot the book there! I should be able to get another copy of it, though—all I'd have to do is go to an occult bookstore, I'm sure! I don't know if it's worth going back to the restaurant tomorrow just to get that exact copy back.

Oh, I sensed something really weird coming from Jared. Come to think of it, I sensed something weird from all of them! That Crystal girl was pretty whacked out, too—I think maybe she's done just a few too many drugs or something! I'm also worried because I can't find my tape recorder—what in the hell did I do with it?

I need to calm down—I'm still wired! I keep having those goose bumps—I had them at least six times tonight, three times at the restaurant alone. I need to relax—it's 12:30 in the morning, and man, it's pretty freaking cold in here! I've started up my car just to get some heat, despite the fact that I'm low on gas; in the meantime, I'm going to take a walk outside to keep myself warm—it's taking too long for the car to warm up....

Okay, it's now 1:00 A.M. Actually, it was a pretty nice walk, despite the 40-degree air outside. It actually gave me a chance to let the blood circulate through my body. I feel calmer now, as I just practiced my deep-breathing exercises. I must say that there is something to this occult thing, but what is it? I mean, is it legitimate? Or are we all actually betraying the Messiah? Well, time to turn off the car, recline my seat, pull the blanket over me, and get some sleep....

[11/4—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's 12:35 P.M. on Thursday, November fourth, and I have some good news! I found my tape recorder this morning when I woke up—it was under my car seat! Believe it or not, I slept well last night. This morning, I was rocking at my desk, keeping in charge of everything that went on in my area. Even though I had to sleep in my car, it's still better than sleeping in a garbage can! One more day—I know I can hold out!

"I have decided to head back to the restaurant tonight—I need the _Forbidden Fruit_ back, no matter the cost! It's about time that I begin to stand up for myself in every aspect of my life! I need that particular book back because I believe that the author may have actually written that introduction to this...um...what was his name? Oh yeah, Victor Flush—I mean, Victor Plush! Ha, ha! I'm going to check it out on the Internet after lunch.

"Oh yes, I've figured out a title to my book: _The Dragon's Realm_. That's what I'll call it!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Okay, it's 3:30 P.M., and I'm on my last break of the day. I am going to record an event that happened during work—here's how it started: As we had completed all of our orders early, there wasn't anything left to do but to hope for another one to come around. I went on the Internet at my computer and typed in the words "contest of wills" in the advanced search box. Again, the same site popped up. Again, as before, two red snakes appeared on either side of the last inscription. They circled around, trying to eat their own tails while spinning. Again, I clicked on the first capitalized "S" and it bade me enter. The three rectangular boxes appeared again.

"This time, I typed the name "Victor Plush" into the computer and hit Enter. The screen began to grow hazy and the words indistinct. A myriad of colors swirled throughout the screen, and then the words "Enter by thy own will, Victor!" slowly appeared—success!

"Although I was very surprised at this success, especially since I hadn't entered a password, I still felt a fly land on my head. After swatting it away with my hand, I looked away for a moment and then back to the screen—but the screen itself had changed! This time, there were lists of menus, numbered one through six. Fortunately, I have the screen printed off so I can just read them aloud.

Number one: The Articles of Liberty

Number two: Initiation events and outings

Number three: The Library

Number four: A summary of future developments

Number five: Neologism, our Ancient World Order & YOU

Number six: Sunnum Bonum

"I clicked on number one, and up popped a baby-blue-colored screen with beautiful white clouds, and then three-dimensional mountains surfaced all across the computer screen. Then I noticed something flying back and forth through those mountains; it turned in my direction and grew larger as it approached.

Seconds later, I could identify it as a red dragon zooming toward me! Just as it flew over, out of range of the computer screen, it breathed a roaring fire, and the screen turned pitch-black! And then a message appeared in blood-red color:

THE ARTICLES OF LIBERTY:

0. THE PATH OF THE DRACONIS/SERPENTE

1. BE THE NIHILISTIC PRIEST WHO UNITES WITH THE UNIVERSAL ALMIGHTY

2. BE THE MAJESTIC MASCULINE MASTER BEYOND REALITY

3. BE COMPASSIONATE AND UNDERSTANDING WITHIN THE PRINCIPLES OF FEMININITY

4. PREPARE FOR THE FINAL ASCENSION THAT SHALL DELIVER THEE TO ULTIMATE BLISS—YES

5. UNLOCK AND OPEN THIS MOST WONDROUS DOOR THAT REVEALS THE MANY PATHS OF HOLINESS

6. FOR THY RIGHTEOUS ANGEL DELIVERS THEE THE HOLY KEY TO TRULY ACCESS

7. SACRIFICE EACH PHILOSOPHY EVEN YOUR ULTIMATE SUCCESS

8. TRANSCENDING REALITY REQUIRES UNDERSTANDING THE BASIC CONCEPT OF NUTRITION

9. ONLY THROUGH SUCCESSES CAN YOU FULFILL YOUR EVERY ASPIRATION

10. THE SOLID ROCK MUST FOREVER AND EVER BE YOUR DIVINE FOUNDATION

"I wonder if this is somehow related to the Tree of Life....Well, it's time to go, as it is now...3:52 P.M.—I'm seven minutes late for work!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Well, I've finally finished up at work and I'm heading over to Lenny's Diner.... All in all, I like my job, but I feel like I should be a top executive somewhere instead of just a lowly shipper....

"Anyway, I did send out a request for an application and information on this "Ordo de Seclorum Serpente" to the Web site master.... Almost at the restaurant.... Okay, I'm here! I certainly hope that these guys show up with my book, or I'm going to be pretty pissed off! I'll probably go ballistic on them if they don't give me my book back; but if they do, I'll be totally cool with them—let's call this a test!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Well, it's 11:15 P.M. and those %$#@ never showed up! I can't believe it! They're dead now! Oh, just wait till I find them! I'll kill them %$#@ pukes when I see them again! %$#@!" _Click_

[11/5—Tape-recorded entry]

"I just listened to some of the stuff I said last night and I am amazed! I never realized that I had such a bad temper before.... It's lunchtime right now, and I'm sitting in my Lopar with a full stomach—I have 50 minutes until lunch is over, and I cannot be tardy to work again! It's time that I take responsibility for my actions....

"Well, I guess _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ is officially gone...but I did at least memorize the title of the book, so that I can just order another copy of it later! After getting off work tonight, I have made arrangements for the evening. First, I'm going to the currency exchange in Rollingbrook to cash my check; then, I'm going to treat myself to a nice meal at Cheesy's Restaurant...I deserve it...and for dessert, a room at the Holly Inn! I plan on getting a couple of drinks in their lounge before bed—who knows? Maybe the drinks will help me to sleep better...or maybe, just maybe, tonight is the night that I'll meet the perfect woman, rich and beautiful, get lucky, and score—heh, heh—and then she'll take care of me for the rest of my natural life!

"Yeah, right.... That's just as likely as me ever getting this book done! I've had writer's block ever since moving out of Cheryl's and into the Lopar.... Somehow, I need to get myself a muse and get motivated about writing again; while I'm at it, I also need to get my life reprioritized!

"Yeah, right.... Who am I fooling? I've been a dismal failure so far—and I'll probably always be a dismal failure! I mean, look at everything that's recently happened—Cheryl kicks me out, back on the street for sleeping around; Christine once again vehemently refuses to let me move back in because Pete is so whipped on her; and my new "best friend" Bryan %$#@ disappears after promising to look out for me! It seems that now that I really need someone, they cannot be found!

"The trouble is, I got off on the wrong start in the first place, being born to a couple of Puritans who instilled fear into me and never let me blossom, and who then died when I was only twelve! I've never had anyone to turn to...so why, dear God, why the hell am I here? What's happening to me? Why?"

"Lisssten...to yourself!"

"Huh? Why did I say that?"

"You didn't...I did."

"But my mouth is saying these words..."

"Yesss, and no...I am in you, and alssso without.... You know thisss to be true!"

"Who—who are you?"

"You know..."

"The serpent—Satan?"

"Yesss...and no..."

"%$#@ this!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Well, it's Friday night...just got off...now I'm gonna _show_ off!

"Yeah, work is officially over for the week. Even though I threw my tape recorder at the dashboard, it didn't break, fortunately! But I must confess that I was initially pretty freaked out by the "voice" of the serpent—though I now believe that it was just a hallucination, a figment of my imagination, a result of my stress....

"Well, I'm heading to the currency exchange and then the...what's that noise? Oh, my pager's going off....I wonder who it is....It's Bryan! Wait a second—I'm mad at that %$#@ for abandoning me! I don't need Bryan.... On second thought, maybe I do! I'll call him from the next pay phone...." _Click_

## Chapter V

The Contest of Wills

[11/5—Tape-recorded entry]

"I've altered my evening plans a bit.... I'm actually on my way to McCurrn now to meet Bryan at the Baker's Table Family Restaurant in twenty minutes. It's 6:32 P.M., and right now, I'm using the frontage road instead of I-55, as traffic is bumper-to-bumper on the freeway, as usual. Thank God I know the back routes! Within a minute, I'll be reaching Shermantown Road and making a left back to I-55 South, where the traffic has already gotten a move-on....

"Using this tape recorder makes me think about things that I'd long since forgotten...the surfacing of old memories.... Some of the stuff that I've already taped sounds pretty freaky, but I think it might have to do with the crappy conditions that I was born and raised under.... Okay, I'm at Shermantown Road now, about to turn left.... _brakes squealing for fifteen seconds_

"Man, I've got to get these brakes looked at tomorrow! Anyway, my mind keeps replaying the phone conversation that I just had with Bryan. He informed me that he had been "grounded" and couldn't use his phone for a week—a twenty-one year-old man that gets grounded! Even his cellular phone was taken away.... What if he received a business call? What if he got a flat tire while driving? Or something worse? Okay, here's the intersection...hold on....

"Okay.... From what he told me on the phone, his dad knew what we were doing that night—I guess I can buy that. Still, I was stuck living in my car! I didn't need to do the coke; it wasn't even my idea....

"Hey, no wonder his old man doesn't like me—he probably thought I had planned the whole thing! Anyway, Bryan said that we would discuss it at the restaurant. I'm going to try a little experiment. As I miss some of the things I say, it's possible I might be missing the things other people say, too. So, I'm going to record our conversation, so that I can play it back later and analyze it...." _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—At this time, I started taking my tape recorder with me everywhere, keeping it safely hidden away in my jacket pocket and running nearly at all times in order to tape my conversations and goings-on around me. I've not included all the various sounds captured on the tape recorder except the few that are necessary for orientation.]]

"Okay...I'm walking into Baker's Table now, only five minutes late! Traffic was a little worse than I thought... okay...hopefully, my little idea works!"

_Male voice_ : "Hey...how are you, Jeb?"

_Me_ : "Good...how about yourself, Jerry?"

"Not too bad...you guys busy over there?"

"Of course...but things are all under control. How about you guys?"

"Yeah! We've been pretty busy...getting a lot of overtime and making the big bucks, if you know what I mean."

"Cool! Hey Jerry, I've got a friend to meet up with. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah...I've got to meet up with this fine-looking blonde myself...get me a little something-something!"

"Cool...heh, heh...enjoy!"

"Always! Take care, Jeb!"

"Later!"

_Female host_ : "Hello....Welcome to Baker's Table. How many will there be?"

_Me_ : "Just two...my friend should be somewhere around here, already—oh, wait...there he is!"

_Bryan_ : "What's up, Jeb?! Long time no see! How are you, bro?"

_Me_ : "Not so good...can we talk about it?"

_Bryan_ : "Sure...let's sit down. I have a table reserved right over here—the best seat in the house!"

_Female waitress_ : "Hi, you two! Here are two menus...holler when you want something, okay?"

_Bryan_ : "Thank you very much.... Now, Jeb, talk to me. You know you can tell me anything—and I want to hear everything from the beginning!"

"Okay, let's see....I left your house in the morning and headed home because I couldn't sleep. When I got home, after almost hitting a kid—"

"First of all, you shouldn't have left my house...but please continue."

"Okay, that was stupid of me, I admit, and for several reasons! One, I was peaking out from the stuff. Two, I smelled like sex!"

"Oh my God...ho, ho!"

"What's so funny, man? I've been living in my car for the past week!"

"Hold on a sec, Jeb...the waitress is coming. Do you know what you want yet? It's on me."

"Yeah..."

_Waitress_ : "Can I take your order, guys?"

_Me_ : "Can I have the combo platter? With extra ranch sauce on the side and a coke?"

_Waitress_ : "...And a coke to drink...okay, honey! Hey there, handsome...what can I get ya?"

_Bryan_ : "I'd like the chicken Caesar salad and a raspberry iced tea, please."

_Waitress_ : "Sure thing, sexy...I'll be back in a minute with your orders!"

_Us_ : "Thanks...."

_Me_ : "You know, Bryan, I hate the fact that girls never pay attention to me like that!"

"It's because they like a guy who takes charge!"

"But I take charge—"

"No, you don't, Jeb...not yet, anyway."

_Me:_ "Okay...let's get back to what I was saying.... So when I got home, guess who was waiting for me?"

"Cheryl."

"Yes, Cheryl! She smelled the sex on me, and it was over! She told me to get myself and my stuff out of her life forever! But she didn't even let me get my stuff until that night—it was laid out all over the lawn—and she even took most of my money! Then I tried to call you, without success, so I had no place to go and no one to turn to! I even went back to your house, but I was refused at the door by James!"

"Jeb....I'm so sorry to hear about your ordeal, but really, you shouldn't have left! And I had my own ordeal to contend with! I mean, my father saw the scattered powder that we hadn't used up, and he was furious! And he could have done a lot worse than just take away my phone privileges—like put me out on the street with nowhere to go, dishonored before all! And even if you felt that you had to leave, why didn't you take a shower first? At least then you wouldn't have smelled like sex! Believe me, I would never want you to get kicked out of your house!"

"Well, I guess you're right—it was my fault! I'm sorry for blaming you, Bryan..."

"No problem...we're still alive, right? The devil ain't got us by the tails just yet!"

"So, what should I do now?"

"You need to get a place of your own. It'll make it easier for me to visit you, and of course, you'll have a roof over your head—hey, never forget what I told you that night! I will never forget the way that you responded in the end!"

[[Recollections from Death Row—From that moment on, I admired Bryan like no one else. He had taken a terrible risk and had even been caught; in fact, I believe that Bryan had probably remained quite calm in dealing with his own ordeal with his father. Though I didn't remember then what he was talking about, I have since learned!]]

_Me_ : "Oh, guess what?!"

_Waitress_ : "With extra ranch and a coke...and here is your raspberry iced tea and chicken Caesar salad, cutie-pie!"

_Bryan_ : "Thank you very much..."

_Waitress_ : "No, thank _you_! If you need anything else, I'll be right there...bye for now."

_Bryan_ : "Laters.....see what I mean, Jeb? Have I got it or what?"

_Me_ : "Heh, heh! Okay, Bryan—you've got it! Now check this out—I discovered something very interesting from some personal research that I've been doing since we first met! Remember when you asked me about the book I was reading involving the New World Order Conspiracy Theories and stuff? I mean, I was curious about them, but there's more to it than that! I wanted to discover the reasons for my being here...and I wonder if there are other people like me...but I ran across another book that claimed that there are others like me who are working on discovering their purpose for being here."

"Really...go on...."

"Well, I ran across this other book called _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ , and it said that there were—"

"You've read _Magick_? When, Jeb?"

"Near the end of June or so...why?"

"Because, Jeb, on the very day we crashed into each other, I was returning it!"

"Really?! What did you think of the book?"

"Genius...pure, absolute genius!"

"I thought so, too—but it was stolen from me several days ago!"

"Did you at least get to finish it?"

"No...I made it to the first part of chapter five."

"Oh! That's too bad, because in chapter six, it gets truly fascinating! Jeb, as you noticed, the book brings together hard-core facts from the Ancient Masters—very confusing, even for me! But in chapter six, the fluidity of the language changes! Sir Henry Bateman takes those philosophies of the Ancient Masters and combines them with modernistic thought, teaching us how ancient occult knowledge relates directly to us and how we can apply it directly to our everyday lives! The ability to transcend, my friend, is what life is really about!"

"Man...I'm sorry I lost that book! But I should be able to order another one, right?"

"Jeb...not to rub it in, but do you know how many copies there are left of that book? Did you know how tempting it was for me to simply keep that book for myself? But then, you would never have had the chance to read it yourself...Jeb, that is the sole existing copy I know of!

"Initially, there were hundreds of copies, but the author, from what I understand, went crazy! He demanded that his work be destroyed and that he would pull the curtains down on everyone if they didn't cooperate, so the Order of the Secret Serpent reluctantly agreed, and every last book was destroyed, except for the one that had mysteriously found its way into McCurrn's library—I never figured out how it ever got there! My father never knew that I had found it, nor did I ever tell him...yet something inside me made me return it—and that was _you_!

"Now, you must put together those facts that are still swimming around in your brain and make sense of them! Tell me, exactly how far did you get in chapter five?"

"Um...I was reading something about the Tree of Life.... It was talking about these spheres and all these names, but that's all I really remember."

"Okay, we'll talk about this more after dinner—your food's—" _Click_

(End of tape)

[[Recollections from Death Row—After we finished eating, I told him of my submission of the application to the Order of the Secret Serpent (OSS). I revealed to him my desire to learn the truth about our existence and about God. He revealed to me that he, too, had had that same desire a long time ago...and a little later, he confessed to me his family's direct involvement with the OSS—he had even taken his neophyte initiation at thirteen! It was truly a small world after all....

I will relate to you the rest of our discussion only in summary, for there is much more to cover and not much time left! After this revelation, we talked about the changes that I was to experience. It was his intention to make a gentleman out of me—he told me that he would get me a place to sleep, and that we'd go shopping the next day for some clothes. In addition to the physical transformation, he intended to make me into a gentleman in the scholarly sense as well. His intention was to present me to his father in a favorable light and to make me acceptable to him! He believed that he could persuade his father into letting us become friends without interference. Of course, I accepted, and I also mentioned that I would pay him back for his kindness when I was successful one day.

There was one more thing that he revealed to me about the OSS—I recall his words verbatim: "Jeb, in regards to the Order, when you told me of your desire to aspire, that is what first attracted me to you, but the Order doesn't see things the way I do.... In their eyes, you must already be successful, and by their definition of the word! Their members consist of the powerful elite within society—their philosophy centers on those already at the top. In other words, the need for money must be eliminated from the aspirant before he or she can actually 'become'! That is why they are successful—and that is the way in which I am going to help you!"

As I was off work the next day, we spent it in the clothing stores at the mall, and checking out apartments after that. Bryan didn't like any of the apartments, however—he said they were not worthy of me—so he suggested a condo, and we decided to check some out the next day, Sunday. Meanwhile, we decided to party on Saturday night in Chicago—our reunion celebration is what we called it—and that night, we went out and had a blast!

Early Sunday morning, without any sleep, we headed directly to the local Realtor's office. Bryan picked up a business card and leaflet from a clear plastic box just outside the door and immediately dialed Charice Johnson, the primary Realtor, on his cellular phone. When she answered, he asked her what her plans were for the day. When he mentioned his name to her, she immediately came to assist us.

The first place we visited was on 777-C Majestic Drive, several blocks away from Cheryl's place. It was a beautiful two-bedroom condominium. Bryan saw the desirous look in my eyes and informed Charice that we would be taking it on the spot! The condominium even had a nice backyard overlooking a jogging track in the wetlands of McCurrn—a very beautiful property inside and out!

The whole process only took about two hours, with Bryan writing a check for the entire amount—one hundred and nine thousand dollars; the Realtor immediately accepted the check once she had confirmed Bryan's ID.

After I was handed the keys to my new home and she left, I proceeded to jump around, exclaiming, "Yes! Home, sweet, home!"

"So—you really like it here, huh?" Bryan asked, laughing.

"Hell, yeah!"

"Good," he said, already heading for the door. "But this place needs some furniture—ready?"

The moment he finished asking that question, I stopped hopping around in "utter glee," as that wonderful feeling had instantly and completely dissipated—the reason why? Because—because I doubted that this moment was even happening, and that I was really dreaming, and that all of Bryan's incredible generosities were illusory, and that Bryan himself was just a figment of my subconscious imagination—and that in all reality, I would soon wake up, only to find myself hungry, tired, cold, destitute, pathetically homeless, and most-especially, friendless...

A crooked smile slowly spread upon Bryan's face, and also his right eyebrow. Once that smile had fully spread, which took a few seconds, he abruptly laughed, "If you don't believe that any of this is real, go ahead and pinch yourself real hard. When you feel the pain, then you'll realize that this is no dream!" His face turned unexpectedly serious as he added, "When you're done pinching yourself, I'll be waiting for you at the car."

Without waiting for a response, and with that brisk-paced walk of his, he headed out the front door.

I only had to pinch myself once, really hard, before I followed him out the door.

We headed to the largest furniture dealer in the city, and picked out some beautiful sets of stained-oak furniture that nearly matched the color of the trimming in the condo—bedroom, dining room, and living room sets.

Fortunately, we didn't have to go through all the usual extraneous procedures, as Bryan tipped the delivery guy an extra five hundred dollars to have everything delivered, and nicely arranged, by the end of the day. The delivery guy showed up an hour later with two of his buddies, and of course, the furniture.

Amazingly, we all worked incredibly fast, and no more than three hours later, we had the furniture perfectly arranged, according to my personal specifications—the only two rooms that didn't yet have furniture, were the basement and spare bedroom!

Shortly before Bryan left that night, we had a very important conversation that I shall now relay by verbatim: "Jeb, what I'm about to tell you is extremely important—so please just listen, and do not speak, okay?"

Even though I had nodded my head in the affirmative, I began to wonder if I was about to hear the "catch" to all of this.

He began, "Jeb, I'm glad that I was able to help you out. Now, don't worry about paying me back until you actually can—the lesson's not over, nor will it be easy for you...but you must remember to never give up—you must never forsake yourself—remember that... I'm certain there will be many more times that I have to tell you this until you learn this most-valuable lesson!"

Suddenly, as if in remembrance, Bryan looked down to the wrist on his watch, and then said, "Oh nuts... my father's got this formal dinner-function that I need to be at in an hour, and I've got to get going—I'll see you tomorrow night after work, okay?"

I first nodded my head in the affirmative, and then replied, "Okay. See you tomorrow."

He nodded, smiled, and turned to leave.

"Bryan? Do you have one more minute? I need to tell you something before you go, briefly."

He pivoted back around, and replied, "Of course."

"Thanks bro!"

He snickered a single laugh, and with a nonchalant wave of his hand, he hummed out, "No problem—I've got your back, Bro!"

"No really..." I extended my hand out, to which he immediately clasped. With a very serious look on my face, I then added, "Without a doubt, you are my lifesaver, my guardian angel, my God-send! Until I can pay you back every penny, which I swear I will, all I can offer you is my sincerest gratitude that stems from my mind, heart, and soul—thank you—my friend!"

"You are most welcome, my friend!" Bryan replied, his voice slightly husky. Once he had cleared his throat and released my head, he concluded, "I'll see you tomorrow night—I've really got to go now or I won't be showered and dressed in time."

After he had left, I walked around my brand-new "home" for hours, until I eventually fell asleep in my brand-new bed—I had _the best_ night's sleep ever, this very night!]]

[11/8—Tape-recorded entry]

"Today was an awesome day! I feel as if all of my problems have finally disappeared.... I feel as if I've been given a chance, the first chance, really! I wasn't born into a rich family, never even knew what rich really was—till now! I can feel myself turning into a better person already—I've even been cursing less! I only cursed twice today at work, but it was in a joking manner; it was with my boss's boss, Barry, as I was telling him of my new place. He congratulated me and asked me when I was going to throw a housewarming party. Come to think of it, that's a very good idea...I'm going to throw a party Friday night!

"Also, while I was chatting with Barry, he complimented me on my job, saying something to the effect of, 'The improvement in your work has been astounding. There hasn't been a single mistake from you in over two months! Keep up the good work!' Barry is a middle-aged man, probably in his late forties—he's a good guy, when you get a chance to talk to him, which is quite seldom. I doubt that he's dating anyone right now, but he once claimed that after he's rich and famous, he'll settle down with the right girl!

"All in all, I'd say today is the greatest day of my life!" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—Only two seconds after I turned the tape recorder off, Bryan rang my doorbell. When I answered, he hurried in excitedly.

"Guess what I got?" he asked me with a mischievous tone in his voice.

"What?"

"I got a new ride—a Z-Ster 5000! Come on and check it out with me!"

"Are you serious?!" I asked, incredulous.

He laughed at my expression and said, "Yes, I did—come check it out!"

We headed outside, and that was the first time I ever fell in love with an inanimate object—this car was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen! But I distinctly remember being nothing but happy for Bryan and not the least bit envious. While I stood gaping at the car, Bryan sighed, "Simply put—this is a machine of both incredible beauty...and power!"

I walked up to the front of the car and placed my fingers an inch above the hood...and yes, it was exhilarating, as I tried to imagine the power contained therein! From the pure blackness of the paint, I could see my reflection very clearly on the hood. and then I looked up to see Bryan standing on the other side of the car, watching me in full concentration....

Suddenly, I remember feeling that he—Bryan—was ten times more beautiful than the car! I looked back down at the hood of the car and it was then that I first noticed his reflection in the hood—it seemed to have a very colorful glow that radiated about two feet in all directions! I shook my head to clear my eyes of this weird vision, but it didn't disappear—he was definitely glowing!

He laughed, probably from the strange expression on my face, and asked, "Well, Jeb, are you ready for a spin?" He hit a button on his key ring, and the lights flashed as a chirping sound emanated from the ring. He hit another button, and music started playing; yet another button and the bass increased, causing the windows to pulse with the beat. Smiling, he opened the door and entered the driver's side—the music was quite loud but crystal clear!

Excitedly, I got into the passenger's side. Bryan turned down the music for a moment and suggested, "You might want to put your seat belt on." I did. After he turned the volume back up, I could hear birds chirping and the rhythmic pulsing of the synthesizer, which made the seats and the rearview mirror vibrate—the sound was awesome! He started the engine and slowly pulled out of the driveway. After we were out on the side street, he accelerated, slamming his foot to the floor; the engine screamed alive, and within just a few seconds, we were already at the end of the block!

I could not speak, only whistle in astonishment. He then turned the corner and put his foot to the floor, and again we flew! There was a light about eighty feet ahead of us. According to my personal time tests done on traffic lights, it takes three and a half seconds for the light to change from yellow to red. We beat the light easily, as it turned red a split-second after we had crossed the meridian!

I looked over at Bryan and screamed, then started laughing, and he looked over at me and just smiled! His eyes were slightly dreamy and I could feel his exhilaration in that moment. The next light ahead of us had just turned red, and we were about twenty feet from the intersection. He hit the brakes, and the car stopped well before the white line—no skidding, no screeching of tires. Fortunately, we had put our seat belts on!

When I looked up, Bryan didn't look worried at all. But as my eyes scanned over into the intersection to our left, there was a police car sitting there, waiting and watching us, even though his light had already turned green. The cars in the left lane were already gone, and several of the cars behind the police car began pulling around. What seemed an eternity passed, but it was probably only a few seconds, and the police car finally started moving. He kept on going straight, and after he had passed out of sight, I yelled out to Bryan, "Weren't you worried that we would get pulled over?"

Bryan looked over at me for a second and yelled back, "Nah...not one bit!" Within moments, the light changed, and once again, Bryan put the pedal to the metal; we launched onto I-55 North and attained a top speed of 160 miles per hour! In that moment, I thought he might have been a professional racecar driver, easily dodging cars like they were pylons! Finally, he slowed down the car, turned down the music and then asked, "Are you hungry?"

My stomach growled for the first time all day. "Yeah—what do you have in mind?"

He looked back over to me and suggested, "How about Cheesy's? We'll be there in two seconds—literally!" We both laughed in utter glee. My adrenaline was sky-high in this machine of power! He kicked both the music and the speed up again, and we began bopping our heads to the beat. In less than two minutes, we had already gotten off I-55, and were already in the parking lot of the restaurant.

We drove around to the front of Cheesy's and were looking for a parking spot when two hot girls unexpectedly walked out of the restaurant—one was a blonde, and the other a brunette. Shyness suddenly hit me as I saw them looking in our direction, and I leaned back further into the soft, leather seats, trying to hide my face.

After Bryan had turned down the music, he then turned to me and asked, "Do you believe in meaningful coincidences?" He stopped the car and put it into reverse, until we were directly in their path. After unrolling the passenger side window with the push of a button, he then asked very casually, "Hey, ladies...what do you have there in those doggie bags of yours?"

The girls looked at each other and laughed, holding up their bags. "These?"

Bryan laughed, pointed, and answered, "Yeah...those!" The girls walked closer to the Z-Ster, and the curiosity could clearly be seen in their eyes.

The blonde looked down at her bag as she said, "This is a chicken Caesar salad."

The brunette never averted her gaze at Bryan as she answered, "And this is the rest of my combo meal—a couple of mozzarella sticks and some chicken strips. I wasn't as hungry as I thought, so I only ate the onion rings—oh, they even gave me a take-home cup for my ranch sauce!"

My mouth dropped wide open as I turned to look at Bryan, whose face remained perfectly calm, until he observed the bewildered expression on mine.

Then, he started to laugh, and the expression on his face caused me to start laughing as well! Within moments, the two of us were in the throes of uncontrollable laughter!

Both girls appeared obviously confused by our outburst, but it was the brunette who asked, "Why are you laughing? You guys don't like this kind of food or something?" For a second time, we both exploded in laughter, with tears now flowing from our eyes. The girls, definitely nonplussed by now, both asked in unison, "Did we do something wrong?" Bryan and I immediately forced ourselves to settle down.

I, being the first under control, said, "No...it has nothing to do with you attractive ladies—Bryan, my best friend here, had just asked me about meaningful coincidences, and now here you are, two stunningly beautiful ladies, with food that we both love to order! Right, Bryan?"

He nodded his head and answered, "Exactly!"

"We would like to apologize for the confusion, right, Bryan?" I asked, watching him nod in affirmation.

"Apology accepted!" the brunette said, laughing. "I'm Kelly, and this is my friend, Tristen."

Without pause, Tristen asked, "So, what do you boys—I mean, men—call yourselves?"

Bryan answered for the both of us and said, "I'm Bryan, and this is my best friend, Jeb!"

I cut in and asked, "Where are you two, Kelly and Tristen, heading off to?"

"Well, we were going to head home..." Tristen paused, "...but what are you guys doing?"

"Well, what's there to do around here?" Bryan asked.

"There's the Cue Ball pool hall nearby," Kelly suggested. "How about there? Tonight's special is ten bucks a person for all the pool you can play...."

Tristen finished, cutting Kelly off, "And all the beer you can drink!"

" _Really_..." Bryan hummed, with his fingers rubbing his hairless chin, (I thought it was _so cool_ the way he did that). "That's a good idea you have there, ladies! We'll follow!"

"But the special doesn't start until eight tonight!" Tristen said. "It's only..." She stopped to rearrange the baggie she was holding and glanced at her watch. "...six fifty-five now!"

Bryan said, "That's okay, we're not worried about the money—we'll follow you there!" After they got into their car, we followed them to the bar.

While we were in the parking lot, and had begun to walk our way up to the pool hall, Tristen commented, "I love your Z-Ster, Bryan!"

Bryan asked, "You like it?"

"Yeah!" they both exclaimed. "When did you get it?"

"Today," Bryan answered, "but I must confess that it's not really my car...it's actually Jeb's! He's just letting me drive it for a while."

I looked over at Bryan but kept a straight face, as I played along with his game and asked, "So, you like it, Kelly?"

Kelly said, "Yeah...but not as much as I like you!" I chuckled, but I didn't believe her.

Bryan glanced at me with "This is just too easy" written all over his face.

"Well...let's have us some fun tonight!" I suggested.

By the time I woke up the next morning, at 7:30 A.M., Bryan had already departed. The girls were gone also, but there were phone numbers from each of them on the table—and next to them, attached to my key ring, were the keys to Bryan's Z-Ster! There was also a note attached, in Bryan's writing, that read, "Thanks for letting me drive last night!" The keys to the Lopar were gone....]]

[[11/9—Tape-recorded entry]

"Today is the ninth of November, a busy Tuesday night here at Telexia! The time is 11:45 P.M. I am on break now, trying to decipher the meaning of last night's events and the findings this morning....Oh my God! As if he would actually let me keep the Z-Ster—ha ha, what a joke! I could only dream about having a car like that—back to reality!

"Well, I'm not complaining about him letting me borrow the ride today! I know I looked snazzy coming into work this afternoon—during the ride through the parking lot, Michelle noticed the car, and then noticed me sitting in it...heh, heh...the look in her eyes, the absolute shock of seeing little old me in this machine, was hilarious! I waved at her with that pretty smile of mine, and as soon as I rounded the corner and out of her view, I burst out into laughter! What a rush! Within two minutes of my arrival, I was surrounded by my coworkers and peppered with questions about the car. The positive energy in the room engulfed me, and I reveled in it!

"Of course, I had to tell them that I was only borrowing it for a short time; I told them it was my cousin's ride, and that he was in town. One day, however, I want to have my own nice piece of machinery—maybe a car just like this, or maybe something else, I don't know—or maybe I'll be a famous author, loved and respected by the world! Then I'd have the resources to go anywhere and do anything I want on a whim! I could eat lunch in Rome and dinner in Japan, just for the hell of it! Maybe that's what I'll make my profession—an author!

"Time to get back to work! Whoo...." _Click_

[Personal Journal—11/9]

Okay, here goes with my first computer journal entry—it's now 6:00 P.M. Four things to mention: First, I wrote four pages in my book this morning before work. Second, Bryan stopped by after work for a few minutes, bringing along with him a computer system, and he set it up for me in the basement! When I asked, he informed me that he had gotten it from Best Deal, and that it was a little under a thousand bucks for everything—the computer, monitor, keyboard, and printer, and, oh yeah, upgraded speakers! It's all set up and ready to go, but I won't get the Internet connection for a couple of days. At least I've got word-processing capabilities! Third, when I tried to hand him the keys to the Z-Ster, he informed me that the car is really mine—unbelievable! Fourth, I invited Bryan, along with everyone at work, to the party, including my boss. The party is set for Friday night! I need to make all of the proper arrangements—namely, food and booze—the basic necessities for a successful party...oh, yeah, can't forget the _dessert_!

(Quick note to self—Now that I have a computer, I can transcribe my old notebook journal and tape-recorded entries into the computer, for future reference, but only with the important points or events on this tape recorder—it'll take too much time to transcribe everything!)

[Personal Journal—11/9]

It is 7:30 P.M., and I just checked my mailbox. I received a letter from the OSS regarding my petition! Here is what it said:

[[Dear Jeb,

We, of the Order de Seclorum Serpente, have received your petition to "become." Our mission is to help you achieve these goals, as befitting any aspirant. We would like to remind you that, as our time cannot be wasted upon false prospects, you must have already proven yourself to be successful in life—we do not accept criminals or those with a dubious background. Careful scrutiny is applied to all Seekers before they can "become" in order to keep the blood of our Order pure and noble!

Enclosed within this packet are several documents that you must scrutinize carefully—for what is contained are prerequisite materials that will determine your eligibility to join the Grand Oriented Brotherhood and to eventually establish yourself as a Master in the aesthetic sense, within the OSS and also within the entire Cosmos! The first document reveals the aspirations of our Order. The second document describes the basic rules of our Order. The third document details the history of our Order. The fourth document contains an application for the grade of Seeker. The fifth document contains the knowledge that you must memorize and upon which you will be thoroughly tested prior to any initiatory rites.

Mastery of this material will be the deciding factor in whether you are allowed to "become"!

Ever yours,

Marcus Lansfield,

Diplomat to the OSS]]

Interesting letter, huh?

[[Recollections from Death Row—I remember being so impressed with that letter that I went straight to filling out the application and submitting it! I felt that with Bryan being directly involved himself, I would have a good chance to "become" as well. But I wondered whether a modern-day peasant like me could fit into the Society of Aesthetic Aristocrats! I printed off the first three documents from the computer at work and skimmed over them the next day....]]

[11/10—Tape-recorded entry]

"Today is Friday, November tenth. I have almost everything set up for my "housewarming party" tonight! The catered food, including roast beef sandwiches and lasagna, will be delivered at 6:30 p.m. Bryan and I are about to head out to pick up the booze and the _dessert_. Thankfully, he has graciously volunteered to pay for all the expenses—Bryan truly is my best friend!

"Last night, after getting home from shopping, I was even able to write six more pages in my book! I do believe that serious progress is being made....

"Once again, this morning was absolutely nuts! Everyone at work looked at me in shock when I told them that the Z-Ster was now mine! Of course, it wasn't a lie when I told them that it was a gift; but I did lie when I told them that it had come from my long-lost cousin, Bryan, from my mother's side of the family—and that I hadn't seen him since I was ten! I also told them that if they didn't believe me, they could ask him that evening at the party! I don't want them thinking that I'm dealing drugs or anything else illegal.... I think any suspicions will be cleared up tonight, especially because I'm going to remind Bryan of the updates." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"As I speak, I am putting skin lotion on all over, after having just taken a hot steaming shower.... Once I'm done, I'll be getting dressed in my new party duds! According to my alarm clock, it is now 5:30 P.M.... Sitting in the garage is a chilled keg of beer, and the fridge is jam-packed with various imported beers as well. In addition, the hard liquor literally consumes every last inch on my countertops! The kitchen table itself has been cleared, of course, as this is where the catered food will go. Although we're going all the way with this party, I will only be doing a little bit of drinking so that I can keep control of the party and make sure that my place isn't torn to hell!

"Wow! My new sea blue-colored polo shirt and black slacks really do look good on me—yes, they do! Now I just have to comb my hair...perfect! Okay, I've got to perform one final inspection of the house before my guests arrive....

"One last thing to note before I go—Bryan joked earlier that he didn't have a problem covering for my little white lies! _(chuckling)_ Bye...." _Click_

[Magickal Journal—11/11]

I swear that I had left my tape recorder on the bed last night before the party. I wonder whether I might have accidentally stuffed it under the bed with the dirty clothes I hadn't washed yet—but I can't find it anywhere! Maybe I have gremlins following me? Or maybe...someone stole it last night! Well, I've got to check again....

[11/12—Tape-recorded entry]

"Obviously, I've found the tape recorder! Sometime during the night, I must have slipped it in between the mattresses and forgotten about it; anyway, I did fail in my intentions Friday night—because I got ripped myself! That was why I probably had forgotten where I put it.

"About forty people or so ended up coming, including my boss, Bill; his boss, Barry; and _his_ boss, Marlene, who brought along her husband Jim, a major corporate executive in Telexia! I remember extending the invitation to everyone but Jim, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect _all of them_ to show up—incredible! Around two dozen coworkers showed up with their dates or wives or husbands, including my brother and his wife, as well Frank and his boyfriend, Larry!

During the course of the night, Frank and Larry hung out together, but they remained, shall we say, civil. Okay, who else was there? Let's see...there was Shayanna...Tammy and three of her friends...Mark and Chuck, from another department...and a few more people whose names I don't remember!

"Well, overall, it was a complete success, as predicted! Conversation was to be had everywhere, and I even chatted with the bosses for some time. Oh, yes—Barry privately informed me that there was a position opening up, and he was considering _me_ for it! It's the next level in the program, and my rank would change. My title would become Coordinator, as opposed to Associate, and my pay would increase a few extra dollars an hour! He was going to throw in the suggestion at his next business meeting. Wow, it made me feel really special to know that my work is being noticed!

"Bryan helped me maintain control of the party as well. Most of the girls were following him around and helping him.... The only girl that followed me around was Tammy—she was hanging all over me like a wet noodle! Of course, everyone thought Bryan was cool and that I was very lucky to have a cousin like him....

"Barry, Jim, and Marlene left at ten, and once they had departed, _dessert_ was brought forth! By three in the morning, most of my guests were passed out. Nobody puked anywhere—at least anywhere that I know of! The only one who hadn't passed out, besides me, was Tammy. She followed me into my bedroom and closed the door behind her...and, needless to say, it was _on_!" _Click_

[11/13—Tape-recorded entry]

"I have finished re-reading the documents about the Order. Let's see....there was the history...then there were the rules...and of course, there were the goals! You know—my memory is getting better! I shall make an attempt to summarize my interpretations of each chapter, and then I will go back and re-listen to my summary to see how I would do, as if I were already taking the test....

"To summarize: First, the history of the Order. They claim that the Order first adopted the name of Ordo Seclorum Serpente in the year 333 A.D. in Rome, but that the Order itself has actually been around since the beginnings of time—it is through their link with the Ascended Masters that they have helped the world to evolve from stage to stage. However, throughout their history, their members have been hunted and ravaged by the ignorance of mankind. In order to protect themselves, they decided to conceal themselves from the masses. The Latin-translated word for occult is 'occulere' and actually means 'concealment.'

"Therefore, careful screening process have been set in order to protect the members and the reputation of the OSS—only those who have already proven themselves in society as successes may join, as their members consist of the powerfully elect, and have proven themselves to the Order. I know there's a lot more about their history, but that's the basic message with that....

"Let's see—goals—what did I get from their goals? Okay, one of their goals is to continuously help the world evolve. The way this is accomplished is by understanding the world and its ever-changing religions. Therefore, any aspirant into the Order must actually study a foreign religion, learn everything about it, master it, and bring its knowledge and wisdom back into the Order, so that the Order actually evolves through spiritual understanding, as well. They claim that they are in possession of the absolute truth of this macrocosmic universe, and have actually created a bridge between the world of humanity and the realms of the mighty ones—the Ascended Masters.

"Another goal that they have is to help unify the different sects of the free-thinking movement, as the leaders of the movement, as has been ordained—" _Click_

"Darn...I didn't even realize that the tape ended and I had talked an additional five-or-so minutes! At least I have the information all in my head and I can record it down later....

"Right now, let's talk a little about the rules—the rules of the Order are not to be violated! They state that sacrifices are not permitted, unless they be of the Self! They speak about certain oaths that must be taken to ensure their secrecy! Violation of these oaths will result in serious penalties and possible excommunication of the initiate. Drugs are forbidden for any type of ritual use, as it must be the mind, heart, and soul that develop within the Absolute Will! There is one more very important rule—the Elders of the High Council have the final word in all things. Their rulings are not questioned—they are only followed..." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Having just played back my summaries, I think I did a pretty good job at summarizing!

"Oh yeah—I should mention that my book is going to be really, really awesome—summarize it a bit! I have changed it around a bit, however...what has changed is the fact that Trendon Harrn will go through some underground adventures for many a years! After all, he is a Vompareus, which means 'vampiric beast master!" Twenty-foot-tall creatures with onyx skin, red glowing eyes, two sets of clawed wings, face of a demonic beast, and of course, vampire fangs! As a matter of fact, Vompareus were the creators of all the undead races in the Beginning of Time...but we'll talk about that later.

"Right now, let's go back to my storyline. The darkling gnomes quickly learn of the slaughter of the High Priestess J'Zbin of the Family Mor'ansha, the Second House of the City of Sh'quia (city of darkling gnomes)! They hunt Trendon down underground, upon realizing his ever-growing threat to their existence...but none of their warriors or priestesses (even high priestesses) ever come back from the hunt! It will be several years later before he discovers the portal. Yes, there will be some exciting adventures here! I'm going to do some more writing right now...." _Click_

[11/15—Tape-recorded entry]

"Some interesting developing news! I received a letter today via e-mail—it was from the Order! They wanted to know who I was, since Victor Plush probably informed them that he didn't know me from spit! Of course, I had revealed my knowledge of him in my answers to some of the questions on the test. I wouldn't say that I cheated on the test..... I only found another possible solution! My reply to them was this:

[[Dear Marcus,

Perhaps I have surprised you by my intrusion into your domain—please forgive me for this! But realize that I am an aspirant, and I discovered the key to get into the Web site through the name of Victor Plush. I thought that there was a "contest of wills" involved, so I played the game. Eventually, I did discover the answer! Believe me, it took me a long time to finally figure out one answer out of the three.

What I am looking for is the Truth. Will you open the doors of perception to me? It is my intention to establish complete trust in me within your Order. If we can find a solution together, then my complete fealty will be to the Order.

Ever yours,

Jeb Maruso]]

"By the way, after I sent that e-mail, I tried again to get on the Order's website using Victor's name...although the site recognized the name, it insisted that I use a password. So I wonder if either the Server was "on the fritz" that one day I did get on without a password, or, my getting on that site was "a sign from God." _Click_

[11/15—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's lunch time now.... It's funny, because I sent the e-mail this morning at 9:00, and I received the response back at 11:45! Here's the reply:

[[Dear Jeb Maruso,

Your letter rings the bell of truth..... You truly did solve the first piece of the puzzle, and with that, you shall be rewarded by being allowed to submit your application for Seeker.

Additionally, in your spare time, I ask you to please read the documents that you should have already received—if you do not have them, please inform me via e-mail, and I shall immediately resend you the materials.

Please do not take this personally, but I was curious as to how you acquired this man's name?

Ever yours,

Marcus Lansfield

Diplomat to the OSS]]

"I'll e-mail Marcus Lansfield later, as to the details of how I acquired Victor's name. For now, time to do some writing in my book...." _Click_

[Personal Journal—12/3]

It's been a couple of weeks since I last wrote anything.... I just woke up from a dream about 20 minutes ago. Let's just say it wasn't too pleasant, but I am writing this for posterity. It wasn't so much a dream of action but of someone writing in his journal. I could see no body, only a hand writing these horrific messages from someone who couldn't spell a lick. Instead of describing it, I shall just close my eyes and try to remember what the hand wrote. Here goes:

[['It was a strang nite for me and al...I couldn beleve that she axed me to talk to her lone...Wen I tuk her home, I got al crazy...I no...This feling just came over me...of complet power! It was almost beyond my control! But I realy did it also cuz I wanted to...It was even funier the look on her face when later...I scrud her...over and over agan! She wuz terifid but dint bug me...The funiast theng is what I did to her after she was ded...No one saw me ether...Oh yeh...the dance was prety cool!']]

It's just about time to get back to sleep...I wonder what these dreams mean? Maybe they have something to do with my subconscious or my past...."

[12/4—Tape-recorded entry]

"I wrote my reply back to Marcus this morning:

[[Dear Marcus,

Thank you for allowing me to submit my application to your Order. You will find it attached to this e-mail letter. As for this Victor Plush you have asked me about, I remember reading the name in a book called _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ , written by a Sir Henry Bateman. Though Victor Plush's name wasn't specifically mentioned in the book itself, there was a brief dedication handwritten on the inside front cover. It said, "To my colleague and mentor, Victor Plush."

I knew to contact you, the Order of the Secret Serpent, not because of the name, however; it was the symbol that was printed on the other side that gave me the real clue—a symbol of a red snake swirling around in a circle and eating its own tail! Unfortunately, I don't have the book anymore, as it was stolen from me about a month ago.

In answer to your second question: No, I don't actually know who Victor Plush is. Perhaps you can tell me...?

My new e-mail address at home is libertine@aol.com. You may reach me there, if you'd like.

Ever yours,

Jeb

P.S. While we're at it, can you tell me who Sir Henry Bateman is, or was?]]

"I realize that I'm playing the game, too. Actually, the Order seems to be pretty cool, so far...I just wish that I had known about it a long time ago. Time to do some writing—I have fifteen minutes left for lunch then back to work!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"All day long, I've been thinking about _Magick_ —I can't seem to get my mind off the book! I'm going to go to Lenny's now—let's just say I have this calling to go there _right now_!" _Click_

[Magickal Journal—12/4]

Tonight was a most interesting night. My face and body are bruised from the damage I suffered in the fight against Jared and his henchmen! Unfortunately, my tape recorder is completely busted...but I managed to grab the tape, even though it cost me another two dozen hits! Those guys really wanted that tape!

Man...I am in some serious pain. I can't even lie down because the back of my head is sore from being kicked several times! Tomorrow I am going to get a new tape recorder so I can listen to the events that led up to the beating!

[Personal Journal—12/5]

Today, I called into work sick. I told Barry that I had come down with a bug. I have black and blue bruises all over my body, including my face and neck—I can't go into work like this! Meanwhile, I bought a new tape recorder at Share-Mart today after calling in. The lady in the store threw some weird looks in my direction, but I didn't care! Fortunately, the tape still works, so I'm going to play the tape from the start and transcribe it onto the computer:

(Beginning of tape-recording)

"I'm here in the restaurant, in the bathroom. I came in here for two reasons—first, I have to pee! Second, the freaks have arrived! Now, the last time I was here, I was somehow intimidated. I don't remember exactly when that started, but maybe I can figure out why later—but this time, I am going to record the event! Time to prepare.... The serpent wise protects one from all lies.... They should make these bathroom doors just a little farther from the sink... _(whispering)_...There they are!"

_Jared, from across the room_ : "Well, look what the black cat dragged in! Hey guys...he's not answering me! I bet he can't hear us! _(louder)_ Hey, dude...Jeb...are you %$#@ deaf?! Or maybe you're a %$#@ mute! Or maybe, you're just a %$#@ deaf and dumb retard! Can you hear me now?!"

_Me_ : "I can hear you just fine—take a seat, Jared."

_Jared_ : "Don't tell me what to do! I'm going to warn you now—stay away from here! This is my turf!"

"Jared...please take a seat!"

"I repeat...get the %$#@ out of here!" _Microwave beeping in the background_

"Jared...for the love of God—can't we just talk? I just want one thing from you and I will never come back!" _Teapot whistles in background_

"Ha, ha, ha, ha! You want the book? You can't have it ever again...for you see, Jeb, I've _destroyed_ it! Burned it to a crisp, I did—after studying its divine secrets, of course! And now, I have truly become a Master of Magick, with _you_ as my slave!" _Phone rings in background_

_Female voice_ : "Hello...police?"

_Me_ : "You...son of a %$#@!"

_Unknown voice_ : "...kill him?"

The sounds of my chair sliding as I leapt toward Jared in a fit of rage, throwing three punches in his direction...the singular sound of my third punch smacking his shoulder, although intended for his face—the man was six feet, six inches tall—and the slight shuffling sound of Jared's foot sliding backward on the tile floor...the lack of sound for a moment, as I suddenly realized the immensity of his size—it was David versus Goliath with his Philistines!

_Jared_ : "Why you little %$#@! Guys—kill this worm...." _Thirty seconds of slapping and thudding of fists and feet into my fragile body..._ "Get him off me! Kick his %$#@ ass—now!!" _Thud, as tape recorder hits the ground._ "Huh? What the %$#@ is this?! A tape recorder! Finish him off—" _More scuffling, punches, kicks, and groans... Finally, the maniacal, sadistic laughing of Jared..._ "—and then get me the recording of his tortured death!"

_Female voice_ : "Grab it!" _Scuffling sounds—punches, groans, and general exclamations of surprise._

_Me_ : "Help me...." _Click_

(End of tape-recording)

Wow! This new tape recorder has some awesome capabilities—I can fast forward and rewind while listening to it at the same time, and it's easier to track from the point where you get behind, from the speed of the event itself. As I was playing the tape back just now, I noticed some things that I would never have figured out with the old tape recorder. Of course, I am going to save this tape for posterity. Here goes....

After I told Jared to take a seat, I noticed something strange, and almost unbelievable—the tape recorder picked up sounds that were normal and yet not quite normal! First there was the sound of the microwave going off three times; when I played that part in slow motion, I heard the beeping sounds transformed into words! After playing the tape back several times, I'm absolutely convinced that I heard the words, "You are weak...."

The second normal sound was the teapot boiling—which, when played in slow motion forward mode, came out as, "You are worthless...."

The third sound of interest is the phone ringing—when played in slow motion forward, it translated into, "Your will is weak...."

The last sound I found interesting was this: The "...kill him?" part. At the time, I was so angry that I was no longer in control of myself—that was why I attacked him. But when I turned the volume control all the way up, I heard the rest of the question; it was a female voice asking, "Are they going to kill him?"

Is this stuff weird, or what? Maybe I _am_ losing my sanity and only hearing voices in my head! I'm going to check out the tape-recording again for confirmation....

[Magickal Journal—12/6]

I called in sick again today—I felt that it was necessary. Though my bruises are healing quickly, they are still too noticeable. Fortunately, I still have four days left of sick time—but I should be able to go back to work tomorrow.

In other news, I received a reply from Marcus this morning, and this message is pretty cool! Here's what it says:

[[Dear Jeb,

I must sincerely thank you for the information that you have revealed to me! It is too bad that you do not have the sole copy of the book, _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_.. And, yes, I will reveal to you now the truth about this distinguished author and his book!

Sir Henry Bateman was an esteemed member within our Order. His speedy progress on the Tree of Life was unmatched by any previous member, and his mind had become as sharp as a double-edged sword—that is, sadly, until about fifteen years ago. You see, a tragedy befell the man—and he lost his way on the path!

To remind you, for every aspirant who comes to our Order, tests are provided by the Greater Chiefs to determine the strength of their will. Well, Henry failed his test—not by our hands, for your assurance and peace of mind. You see, his son, David, developed a brain tumor shortly thereafter! Within four months of the initial diagnosis, his son died. Soon after this tragedy, Henry became lost. His emotions clouded his mind and he blamed David's death upon the Order itself! Soon, he lost himself in the world of chaos and disorder; and the next year, on his son's birthday, Henry took his own life—at the altar before a Roman Catholic communion!

As you have discovered for yourself, the symbol on the inside cover of the book is that of the OSS. It was our desire to remove the author and his work from the four corners of existence—for, you see, this tragedy would stain the nobility of the Order, should it be discovered by the public; in addition, our determination grew over time, as we realized that the work itself was at fault! For, you see, had he truly passed his test, he would have used his Magick to cure his son! This type of work is not only possible but also proven! We of the Order attempted to visit the boy in his hospital bed, but Henry refused our visitations every time. He spent night and day by the boy's side....

For this reason, his work has been deemed dangerous: For transcendence to occur at any level, one must be prepared for all contingencies and deal with them appropriately! Now, please read this again, and consider just what I have revealed to you, and speak of it to no one. Should you desire to continue within our Order, despite the "accursed nature" of the book, this will be allowed.

There is one more thing I wish to clarify to you about the exact contents of this letter. If you will notice, at the beginning of this letter, I called Sir Henry Bateman and his work both "esteemed" and "distinguished." I also called him "unmatched" in the spiritual field. Later, I referred to his work as "accursed" and to him as "lost in chaos and disorder." All of these statements are true—but how can this be? The simple fact is, though his mind and spirit were strong, his emotions were not! Had they been, Henry's son, David, would still be alive today!

With respect to your successful application for acceptance into the Order, we have assigned to you a special proctor, whose identity will be made known to you once you have performed your Initiatory Rites (IR) for the level of Seeker. Please review the materials attached to make sure you understand all that you will undertake as a Seeker. Once completed, you are to deliver your signed oath personally to your proctor, or Master. From then on, you shall turn yourself over to him and are not to question his orders. In all discussions, let him finish what he has to say, and then you may ask your questions of him.

At any time, you are allowed to leave the Order. After all, as is our motto, we only want those who want us first! We shall not hunt you down or harm a single hair on your head should you choose to leave in the future—but you must always keep the information you are taught secret! The oaths that are included in the IR are a necessary and requisite part of the IR, and shall be that which builds or destroys you—it is probable that Sir Henry Bateman condemned himself to such a fate for the violation of his own oath! We are the only true "Esoteric Order" among all of the orders—and that is the way we wish to stay! Free choice means your choice!

Should you remain and eventually "become," you shall find an eternal peace that accompanies the achievement of your greatest expectations! For you shall have found your "Brothers and Sisters of the Art Magickal," the "Aesthetics of all Existence," and the "House of All Religions and The None!" In other words, you shall have found the OSS, the Order of the Secret Serpent!

Ever yours,

Marcus Lansfield

Diplomat to the OSS

P.S. Contact me when your initiation has been completed.]]

Interesting letter! I will seriously consider these words before I decide to accept the invitation to the dance. As far as my personal thoughts regarding the Order: First of all, I know that Bryan, for one, is dedicated to the pursuit of Truth, too. Through our discussions, I can see that he wants the best for me. He wants me to find my purpose, which is what I want to do as well—it's a strange coincidence, the way things have transpired between us! I believe that it may be a sign.

Second, the Order seems to be very professional but benign at the same time. They give free choice for the individual to stay or go—that means that they can't be all that bad! I've heard some horror stories about these secret societies forcing their members to stay...or die! I don't think it's that way with the OSS—as Marcus said, they want people who want them!

And third, they seem legitimate in their cause. They seem like they truly care about others, but are selective in their choices for the purpose of protecting themselves. After all, they've been hunted down by religions of all the other faiths, and that must be the reason for calling themselves an occult or secret group. One more reason that I'm encouraged by what I've learned: It seems that the Order truly wants to help others, as I do—I want to find my purpose, but not just for myself; perhaps I can help lead others in the future toward their own discovery of the Truth. But through the OSS, I can start with myself! I have decided now—I will take the IR and the oaths necessary, and if I don't like it, I will get out. If I do like it, then I will "become" one of them forever!

[12/7—Tape-recorded entry]

"I got the promotion! My pay jumped over five bucks an hour, putting me at $17.50 an hour! Sure, my responsibilities have also increased, but that's okay. Fortunately, I did a good job at concealing the bruises on my face with some makeup—they weren't anywhere near as bad as they were several days ago....

"Also, that girl Tammy keeps calling me up—I wish she would just leave me alone!" _Click_

[Magickal Journal—12/22]

I have performed the ritual and taken the Oaths...I will not explain the technicalities of the ritual itself, as I have sworn not to, but I will address the nature of it:

I am now a Seeker. Revealed to me in the ritual were several things that I must learn in order to transcend in the future. The first is the weakness of man/womankind. I will use the idea of "greater and lesser fruits" as an analogy to describe the idea of "weakness." Though the "lesser fruits" bear significance in the finding of the "greater fruit," the weakness occurs when one is satiated by the "lesser fruits." These "lesser fruits" are comparable to the animalistic desires within us. But it is always toward the "greater fruit" that we aspire. This "greater fruit" is that eternal bliss, the union between man and God, the Collective Consciousness. It is to the Creator that we go when we need sustenance, to appease the animal within.

I cannot proceed any further, or I will be violating my newly established oath! I can't wait to tell Bryan about all of this...I'll give him a call after he gets home from work at six.... Nah, I think I'll tell him now!

## Chapter VI

Transitions

[Personal Journal—12/23]

It's 2:40 P.M. My mind has been focused on these dudes that were really messing with me last night at work. Actually, now that I think about it, they've been ragging on me since I first started working at Telexia!

Hell, I'll say who they are—after all, these are my personal journals—they're Paul and Todd, from the "cage," where the repaired cell phones are stored and locked up until ordered to ship. They think they're like the dynamic duo at work, and consider themselves untouchable. However, their recent attitude toward me has been very irritating and degrading!

I mean, now that I'm really thinking about it, it's clear that they've meant to degrade me all along.... I wonder if it's really envy in their hearts! For they aren't that way to everyone—to everyone else, they appear as perfect gentlemen, but to me, they're obnoxious pukes!

Well, I can't let them get me down any longer.... I'm going to head to the mall and do my first- and last-minute Christmas shopping, to get myself into the Christmas spirit!

[Personal Journal—12/24]

It's 12:25 PM. Tonight at five, Pete and his family will be coming for Christmas Eve dinner, and so will Bryan. I hope that they'll like the gifts I bought them!

While beginning my Christmas shopping yesterday at the mall, I first thought about Bryan and the many wonderful things that he's done for me, and then I wondered what I could possibly get for the man who's saved my life—economically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually....

The answer popped into my head in the form of a memory that I hadn't been able to recall previously—a flashback to the night of Bryan's "surprise party" at the White Manor, specifically of the point in time when he had just finished sniffing a line and said, "Jeb...I want us to become blood brothers this very night! I feel that we already are, except in the physical sense. Now, I want to complete this, but only if you feel the same.... Think about it! Don't you believe in the greater purpose? I do, and this is why I want to do this! Do you want to become my blood brother?"

"Bryan," I answered, "it's true that at this very moment, I feel so liberated! The truth is, I am as high as a kite.... I don't know if I believe in the greater purpose, but yes, I do believe in you! And that is reason alone.... Yes, I will become your blood brother!"

Until yesterday, I had not recalled this memory, but immediately after it faded, another memory surfaced, one of me laughing and doubting Bryan when he revealed that we were blood brothers. I concluded that there should be no doubts to this man's authenticity....

As my thoughts wandered, my eyes happened to stray through the glass windows of Tracer's Toys and Gifts and caught the image of a couple of kids with visual headsets on and controllers in their hands, playing the new VVRGS—Vector Virtual Reality Game System—and I looked up at the two monitors displaying the scenes that the boys could see through their headsets, as they flew their spaceships through jagged, mountainous terrain, dodging enemy alien fire and destroying enemy alien cities. The graphics of this virtual video game were awesome—I knew that Bryan would love it because I would have loved it for myself!

After purchasing the game system for Bryan, I continued my shopping, now trying to think about what I could get for Pete—my _real_ brother! I love the dude, but not in the same way that I love Bryan (not in a gay way). I love Pete because we're technically brothers—but he never should have turned his back on me, especially when I was homeless! When I think about it, I still get upset.... It's true that Pete's not rich, but he did have an extra room! Of course, it's all because of Christine. She will never look at me as being successful. Even though they really don't love me, I still love them, and I got the two of them a Christmas present I'm sure they'll enjoy.

Of course, the girls are perfect—Ashley and Alexis. Every time I see them, they look more and more beautiful, like angels. I really hope they'll love the gifts I got for them!

After my trip to the mall, I stopped at the local Share-Mart and purchased a Christmas tree, with ornaments and lights and everything. I got home at six and spent the next couple of hours setting it up in my living room. Once everything was in place, I leaned back in my E-Z chair and admired my handiwork—I felt that I had truly acquired the Christmas spirit!

Gotta go! I need to throw the stuffed turkey into the oven now and begin preparing the rest of the food. Peace and blessings! Merry Christmas Eve....

[Magickal Journal—12/26]

Whoo! I'm tired, and I have to go back to work tomorrow, which stinks! No word yet on who my proctor is.... If Bryan's dad is involved—and I know he doesn't like me—could he prevent my entry? Ugh—I don't like that thought! I hadn't thought about that before—what if Bryan's dad informs the council of my true identity? On the other hand, who am I, anyway? It's not like I've done anything wrong! I don't like these thoughts...what's the matter with me? I just feel this negative energy surrounding me now...I feel like taking a hot shower to get rid of this yucky feeling!

Another thing—last night, Bryan and Pete didn't seem to get along too well, at least at the beginning. Although they didn't argue outright, there was an underlying tension that filled the room. The only one who really spoke during Christmas dinner was Christine—and guess who she was talking to? Yep—Bryan! Pete just gave him suspicious looks all night long. As it was my house, I eventually decided that the tension had to end. I don't remember exactly what I said, but it went something like this:

"All right! I've had enough of all this crap. Now, I didn't invite everyone over here so we could have a contest of wills between each other! Christine, you should pay more attention to your man, the man who would leave his only brother on the street for her! You judge me, yet you don't know anything about me—and now, you're sort of flirting with my best friend and making us all feel uncomfortable! For years, I've listened to your crap about how I'm worthless; but now, you need to make a choice: Accept me now as your brother-in-law, or get the hell out of here!

"And Peter Alexander Maruso, you need to realize what she's doing to you. We're brothers, and you should never have left me out there to die like a worm! Bryan sacrificed his own freedom so that I could have a chance—if you ask him, I'm sure he'll tell you all about the awesome qualities that I have as a person!

"As for Ashley and Alexis, I've got some wonderful presents for them, and I've also got some wonderful presents for each of you! So we can either start over from the beginning, as a family, and open up the lovely gifts I got for all of you...or we can call it quits and never speak again to each other—personally, I like the first choice better. Before you make up your minds, do you girls want your presents?"

To this, they squealed in delight! They each grabbed an arm and dragged me into the living room, where the Christmas tree lights gave the place a highly aesthetic quality—the spirit of Christmas was truly here, if only for a few moments—and with them laughing all the way to the tree, the excitement built up again within me!

I gave each of them their presents, which they ripped open, and when they finally reached the jewelry boxes—box within box within box within box—they were awestruck! I found myself amused at the look of wonder in their eyes, and as always, they acted in unison, their angelic faces glowing in the lights. They opened the boxes, which held two gold necklaces with their names on them, and seconds later, still holding their jewelry boxes, they gave me a big hug and a kiss on each cheek!

"Thank you, Uncle Jeb!" they squealed, and they then split—Ashley to Pete and Alexis to Christine. After they put their arms around their parents' waists, they showed them the jewelry boxes. Pete and Christine looked at each other, amazed and a little sheepish. They then embraced as a family, and emotions were high in the room. I smiled and looked over toward Bryan, who happened to be looking at me with a smile of his own!

"Hey guys," I heard a voice from over my shoulder—it was Pete, and his voice was a little shaky. He motioned for us to come over to where they stood. "Come here...." I remember two things in particular. The first is what Pete said: "Bryan, thanks for watching out for my little brother—if he looks up to you so much, then you must truly be a great guy...." He then rubbed Bryan's head and tousled his hair.

The second thing is how Bryan replied. He laughed and remarked, "You, Pete, have an awesome family! I envy you in many ways.... Be glad you have the brother that you do!" Before they left, Christine and Pete promised me that they would talk about their problems and work things out.

Bryan remained, and it was then that I gave him his gift. When he opened it, his eyes lit up more brightly than the brightest star I've ever seen! We stayed up till five in the morning playing the game and having the time of our lives.

With all of this positive energy in the air, why do I still feel drained? I probably just need more sleep, after I take a hot shower....

[Personal Journal—12/27]

Today was a %$#@ %$#@ day at work! I am so %$#@ing mad, it's even hard for me to type this out! But I must.... Here's what happened:

While I was double-checking a pallet full of broken cellular phones that we had just received from WPS, Paul decided to pull himself out of his little wormhole and asked me if I knew where to "get any."

Of course, I knew exactly what he was talking about, by the smug look on his face, but I feigned confusion, continued to stack the boxes on the pallet, and asked, "What?"

Paul, after a moment's hesitation, glanced in each direction to make sure the coast was clear, and finally whispered, "You know...green!"

Without stopping my work, I answered, "Nope.... I don't mess with that stuff."

He casually answered, "I heard from around the way that you did...and I've suspected it all along, myself. Smokers always recognize other smokers, if you catch my drift." I said nothing.

"Listen, man," he continued, "I promise on my word of honor that I'm legit! It's for my older sister, Heather. She's home from Illinois Southern College for Christmas vacation, and she's brought along three of her friends from school—all girls—and all of them are staying at my parents' house. They're all bored as hell because they're too young to get into the bars around here and too old to hang out at the arcades. So now, they've asked me to find a buzz for them, and I've looked everywhere! You're my last hope...hey, if you don't believe me, I could introduce you to my sister, okay?"

"You're wasting your breath, Paul," I replied, trying to remain straight-faced even as my cheeks burned. "I can't help you with your request! Don't know where to find anything like that...sorry."

"Fine..." Paul answered, and after he was out of sight, he yelled, "Be that way!"

Now, the only way that Paul could have found out that I'm a pot-smoker is from someone who attended my party, because he didn't bring it up as a question, but as a _statement_! Unfortunately, I wasn't prepared for Paul's line of questioning—I didn't even think of using the Serpent's Prayer to protect me—so I probably appeared nervous as hell—I don't think I could have convinced a four-year-old!

What if Paul had this whole thing planned out, as part of some plot with Todd? What if he even had a _bug_ on him to record our conversation, and now they have evidence to rat on me to Barry? And what if the "dynamic duo" is actually convincing enough to have Barry investigate the matter? Perhaps surprise me with a piss test tomorrow, when I'm not clean?

Screw that! I simply cannot allow this to happen! Now I'm getting upset again.... Why does everyone try to judge me? Why would they want to get in my way? But they do! Screw the lot of them—they're all bigots! Although I'm becoming more intelligent, I'm also learning about the sheer nastiness of people—they're just rotting corpses, and they don't know it! Paul and Todd need some convincing, if you ask me—some straightening out, if you know what I mean—ha!

[Magickal Journal—12/28]

I received a reply today from Marcus! He addressed me as Samson, the Seeker name I have chosen. Here it is:

[[Dear Samson,

I remind you that the Order may not be for you in time—this is okay! As is our creed, "We only want those who want us first." And now, it is with great privilege that I welcome you as an Associate of the OSS! Now is the time for you to begin your quest, in pursuit of that which we call True Liberty!

Coincidentally, your proctor is going to be none other than Victor Plush, the same man whose name you uncovered from _Magick: TFF_ , perhaps for a meaningful reason. Understand, for the benefit of your spiritual career, that Mr. Plush holds many credentials, both within the OSS and around the world! I shall not disclose his personal information—I shall let him do that for himself—but a map to Mr. Plush's residence in Maryland is attached to this letter for your convenience.

If and when you are ready to proceed with the next step, you are to contact me via e-mail with a confirmation. Let me know when you are available, so that I can coordinate your meeting with Mr. Plush.

Ever yours,

Frater Mashin,

Diplomat to the OSS]]

I e-mailed Frater Mashin today in regards to my meeting with Victor Plush. It said, "Anytime."

[[Recollections from Death Row—Instead of including every bit of e-mail correspondence between us, I shall summarize the communications between myself and Frater Mashin, a.k.a. Marcus Lansfield.

Marcus sent me an e-mail the following day, suggesting that I meet Mr. Plush the following weekend. He asked me if it was possible to take three days off the following week, as the meeting would take some time. I asked my boss the following day for the vacation time, and he readily agreed.

The following Friday, after work, I was all prepared for the trip—a road map to Mr. Plush's house in my passenger seat and a suitcase full of belongings in my trunk. The weather was below freezing, but I knew the Z-Ster would be able to handle the weather nicely, as well as ensure my own personal warmth! I left early in the evening, around 6:00 P.M. It wasn't until a little before two in the morning that I began to get tired; I came across the next motel on I-90, the Road-Way Motel/Restaurant, rented a single-room for $45, and went to bed.

At seven in the morning, after I was awakened by the motel's morning wake-up call, I took a shower and got dressed up in my Sunday best. I then had a nice breakfast at the restaurant and departed east. Around noon, I passed a sign that read, "Welcome to Maryland!" After filling up at the Grell Truck-stop/Restaurant, I ordered a turkey sandwich and got back on the road. All day long, the clouds ruled the sky and the sun could not poke through.

According to the directions and my own estimation, I only had about twenty more minutes of driving left to do until I reached his house—and suddenly the light from the sun pierced through the clouds! I look up through the windshield, and I could see that half of the sky was cloudy and gray, while the other half was clear and blue! The sun was half-concealed. Within seconds, it was evident which way the gray mass of clouds was going, as the sun finally appeared in full.

The snow on the ground became little prismatic mirrors, causing me to squint; I was forced to pull over to the side of the road in order to retrieve my sunglasses, which were located in my suitcase in the trunk! Glancing down into my center console, I noticed the tape recorder, picked it up, and turned it on.]]

(Tape-recorder on)

"The whole land is blanketed by thick snow, but fortunately, the roads have all been plowed. Maryland's landscape appears to consist primarily of magnificent rolling hills covered everywhere by trees! The sun has come out from behind the clouds, and though color has been restored to the land, the reflection of the sun off the snow is causing me to squint—fortunately, I have my sunglasses!

"I'm on a side road now, still digging in my suitcase for them.... You can really smell the fresh air; mainly, the strong pine scent...heh, heh, I think some passersby just saw me talking to myself...oh well...I don't care...all right! I finally found my sunglasses. Ah...I love the smell of nature...I really do....

"Okay, I've just arrived at Mr. Plush's residence. Just outside my window to the left is an intercom system. Ahead of me is a steel pole gate blocking the way. Beyond that, a drawbridge is raised against a castle—and yes, I did say castle! I didn't know they had castles in Maryland!

"I haven't rung the intercom just yet...I must confess that I am really feeling very squeamish about this all of a sudden! I don't know what to expect from this guy—what if he's a freak? _Sigh_ The serpent wise protects one from all lies.... There, that's better.... I'm going to go through with it!" _I push button on intercom_.

_Male voice over intercom_ : "Hello?"

_My voice_ : "Yes....Is this the residence of Mr. Victor Plush? If it is, then would you please tell him that Jeb Maruso is here to see him?"

_Male voice over intercom_ : "Come in, please, Mr. Maruso."

_My voice_ : "Thank you.... Well, here we go.... This place is intense! I am now waiting for the drawbridge to lower so that I can cross over the tiny river that literally winds around the entire perimeter of the castle and into the castle's courtyard as well! Whoo! Let me try to describe this beautiful castle.... A thin layer of green vines partially conceals the massive rectangular white mortar blocks, perfectly cut and stacked on top of one another, allowing space for a window here and there. Though it is completely a guess, I'd say that the two twin towers with the spiral minarets at the front of the castle are two hundred feet high! Time to park.... I'll turn the tape recorder back on later, after all the formalities are dispensed with...bye for now." _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—After parking in the courtyard lot, I walked up to the massive, twelve-foot-high front doors, which were constructed of oak and decorated with black, vine-shaped insignias. I pushed the doorbell and waited, and after a few seconds, the right door opened and a butler in a tuxedo bade me enter, prompting me with a wave of his hand. I entered, and without saying a word, he immediately turned around and led me to a beautiful set of rainbow-color glass doors in an archway, opened the right door for me, and with a gesture of his hand, bade me enter again.

After walking through the arched doorway, I noticed that the far half of the huge diamond-shaped room was constructed of glass, revealing a grand view of Maryland's woodlands, while the near half was constructed of solid stone blocks and was heavily decorated with pictures. Other than two plush chairs—one white and one black—on the near side of the room, there was no other furniture to be found. It was then that I observed the black-and-white checkered marble floor.

When I turned around, I noticed that the butler had silently departed, closing the stained-glass doors behind me. Absorbed in my surroundings, I walked around the room, studying the wall's varied decorations, including painted portraits of soldiers dressed in all manners, from knightly armor to desert camouflage; United States Air Force awards and decorations, all in Victor C. Plush's name; and photographs of many important officers, politicians, and yes, even world leaders! In each photograph, there was one man with a very distinguishable face who stood out in particular amongst the others....

For an unknown amount of time, I was lost in the world of Mr. Plush and had not become aware that during the course of my indulgence, a real live version of the man himself had quietly walked in! As I wasn't paying attention to him, he said in a very soft voice, "Good afternoon, Mr. Maruso."

I was hardly startled by his voice, probably because the Serpent's Prayer was still in effect, and without alarm, I placed my left hand into my pocket and secretly turned on the tape recorder. At the same time, I extended my right hand for him to shake. I then observed the butler walking in, pushing a medium-size metallic bin on wheels. The conversation was transcribed as follows.]]

(Tape-recorder on)

_Victor's chipper voice_ : "Ah, greetings there, young man! How are you?"

"Very good, Mr. Plush, sir.... How are you?"

"Couldn't be better! So, how was your trip? Any problems?"

"None to report, sir!"

"Relax, there, young man.... Would you like a drink? Perhaps a beer?"

"Yes, sir, that would be nice!"

"Bernard, show Mr. Maruso the selection.... Feel free to have whatever you'd like, Jeb."

"Thank you, sir!"

"Now, let's take a seat on the easy chairs over here and get started. First, I want you to get yourself comfortable—take a drink and relax!"

"I'm better now, sir...."

"No, not quite.... Take another drink, settle yourself into the chair, and relax.... Observe the beauty of nature out there.... Take another drink, Mr. Maruso.... Get yourself even more comfortable.... Relax.... Good.... Now, take a good look out there, and tell me what you see!"

"Uh...trees, snow, the river...."

"Take a deeper look and tell me what you see!"

"I see birds playing out there.... I see the sun shining...."

"Now...look even deeper!"

"Um...I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"Just relax, Jeb.... Breathe deeply and evenly...and tell me what you see!"

"Wow—I see shooting stars everywhere! They're chaotic in pattern, with no apparent direction or seeming purpose...but they glow, and they're beautiful!"

"Yes! What do they resemble?"

"They look like...well, like little sperm!"

"Exactly!"

"Exactly what, sir?"

"You truly do have a special gift, Jeb!"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Son, as you know, I will be training you in the Arts Magickal.... I know that you will be uncomfortable when I tell you this, but I know about your past, and I know of your own parents' demise. It is such a tragedy when one loses a guiding figure at such a young age....Yes, Jeb, I know many things about you."

"Sir...why do you call me 'son?'"

"Because...because, Jeb, I see so much of the boy in you now; but what we shall create together is a man—not just any man, mind you, but a Master—for is that not what you desire? To know the Truth? To become one with the Truth? To feel it coursing through your veins and to know no doubt?"

"Sir...why would you want to do all of this for me?"

"My answer is this: No matter how hard you try to deny the pain, I can still see it within you. I can see the pain you've suffered, from your family, your friends, your relationships, even your enemies—physical, mental, and even psychic. You have many issues that need resolution. You have many areas within your psyche that need strengthening! But despite your difficulties, I also see your strengths. You have a keen ability to perceive the reality of your surroundings—for example, most are not equipped to see the vision that you just described to me. With proper training, one can learn how to master that skill and many others. Although you, and only you, can actually find the answers, I want to help you to achieve that end, Jeb! For we of the OSS are a family, after all. Now—" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—At that point, the tape ended; but, of course, I could not reach into my pocket and turn the tape over to the other side—which is unfortunate, as Victor dove into many interesting subjects, such as magick and spirituality, while speaking about himself, his interests, his successes, and his family members. His language flowed so smoothly—never before had I encountered one as intelligent as he! Following our discussion, he left me in my room to relax for a while before dinner. I took the opportunity to change the tape to the other side while in the privacy of my room....]]

(New tape)

"I can't even imagine how many rooms are in this place—fifty or sixty, I'm sure. The bedroom I'm in now is actually just a little bigger than my living room and bedroom combined! Man, it's big! The room is decorated with huge frescoes that hang from the wall. Some of the frescoes are nothing more than nature scenes, but some of them are very, very interesting! I'll describe some of them for posterity in a minute, after I've checked myself out first. There's a huge mirror in front of me; it rests on the floor, with wood panels surrounding it—I'd say this thing is about ten feet high and twenty feet wide! ( _yawn_ )

"Man, I'm a little more tired than I thought! Still, I do look rather smoking in this expensive three-piece Vixevi suit given to me by Victor—he even had my size and had it custom-tailored for me by his butler! These guys appear to be very impressive! The Order, that is....

"Man, I am looking pretty sharp, am I not? Hell yes, I am! Let's see...I have about twenty more minutes until dinner.... Victor informed me that there would be other guests attending tonight—I wonder who they're going to be?

"While I have some time, I'm going to check out these frescoes on the wall.... They bear the look of antiquity, which suggests that their origins may date back to the medieval times! Okay, this first fresco shows the picture of a sun just about to set, a sky filled with vibrant, penetrating colors, from yellows to violets. The colors of the sky are equally reflected in a nearby lake, making it appear magical; to confirm that suspicion, a white unicorn drinks from the colorful waters! At the far side of the lake, in a grove of trees, a child is hiding, out of sight of the unicorn, yet watching it...Pretty cool....

"All right, this second fresco here shows a knight whose armor is dulled and dirtied. He walks wearily toward me on a winding dirt road and appears to be dragging something on the ground.... On closer examination, I can see that the knight's armor is bloodied and that it is his giant, bloodied sword that is being dragged! I can see that the knight has recently come from battle for, up the road, off in the distance behind him, a burning city lies in total ruin..... Yet, though all the other buildings have crumpled to the ground, there is a single black tower that still stands—this is a trippy picture!

"Okay, I think I have time for one more. Although I've only spent about five minutes on each fresco, it seems like forever that I've been immersed in their art! This one here portrays the silhouette of a giant dragon..... The dragon itself is black, but the rest of the fresco is filled with vibrant colors—yellows, greens, reds, browns, and whites—there's not much else to say about this one, except that it is truly magnificent! The dragon spans at least eight feet in length from head to tail! It's mesmerizing....

"Okay, I have two minutes left! So now the big question of appropriate conduct comes up. Should I or shouldn't I take my tape recorder with me? On the one hand, everything that he says can be checked out later—I'm sure the Order has its way of testing me—but how else am I going to test the Order myself?

"I think I'm going to bring the tape recorder with me anyway, just to be on the safe side..... Damn! I forgot my last two new tapes in the car, and it's too late to go get one—okay, time to go...." _The sound of door clicking open_

_Victor_ : "Ah...there's the young man now and looking great in your new suit!"

_Me_ : "Thanks. How are you, sir?"

"Outstanding! How about yourself?"

"Quite well...thank you, sir—" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—As my tape ran out and I had no others on me, I shall summarize the events of that night. After cordial greetings, we headed down a flight of stairs that led to the first floor. After we reached the first floor, I remember commenting to Victor about the frescoes in my room. His response to me was, "Do you like them? Those are indeed the treasures of the house.... As you must know by now, we like to make our treasured guests feel comfortable!"

I nodded my head in response, unsure of what to say. Despite the enormity of the castle, time seemed to speed up during every turn, and after what seemed like mere moments, we were standing before the gigantic front doors that I had first walked through. As we stood there waiting, I remember asking Victor about the attending guests.

He responded, in a serious tone, "Very important people, Jeb—a couple of senators—you must show them the utmost courtesy!

I nodded my head in response, unsure of what to say—but my predominant thought was, "What the hell have I gotten myself into?" A buzzer sounded from the door. Victor walked over to the right door and pulled it open.

"Come in! My door is always open to you!" In walked two finely dressed people—a man in his early fifties carrying a folded umbrella, and a younger woman in her early thirties. They both wore long black trench coats that reached the floor. Victor approached them and extended his hands in warm greeting. Each of them joined hands and, raising them together, they formed a pyramid. After their unusual form of greeting, they released their handshake and turned to face me, as if noticing me for the first time.

Victor raised his eyebrow, turned back to them, and said, "It's my honor to introduce you to my protégé, Jeb Maruso!" They both looked at me in wonder, but before any of us could respond, Victor pointed to them and said, "Jeb, this is Representative Robinson and Senator Williams." I could feel my heart throbbing madly! I remembered my deep-breathing exercises, and within a few breaths, I was almost under control.

"Greetings, sir...ma'am.... It is a sincere pleasure to meet you." I bowed for a second.

The woman, Senator Williams, looked at Victor with a smile and said, "You didn't tell me he was such a gentleman!" Representative Robinson laughed in good humor. I smiled at Senator Williams in true appreciation of her compliment—and found that she was smiling back!

Victor cut into the moment with, "Jeb...would you be so kind as to remove our guests' jackets and hang them in the closet, please?" I thought about his question before responding. Though I could feel my rebellious nature welling up inside, I kept it in check and decided to play the neophyte servant for now.

"Yes, sir," I answered, and helped to remove their jackets.

"This way, folks!" Victor announced, leading the way. After I hung up the jackets in the huge walk-in closet, I hurried into the dining room. The senators had already taken their seats at the large, round stone table, but Victor had remained standing. Weaving around them, servants brought out huge trays of food and set them on the table. Upon my arrival, Victor pointed to the empty chair and said, "Your seat is right over there, Jeb."

"Thank you, sir," I answered, and headed to my assigned position. Before sitting down, I looked over at Victor for approval. He nodded, and we both took our seats. The servers then opened their trays and set the lids down on a cart. Steam poured out from the trays, and as soon as the mist had cleared, I could see that the trays contained oysters!

"Oh, yuck..." I thought to myself, but heard otherwise from Senator Williams.

"Good choice, Victor! Eating oysters after a long plane ride helps one to relax."

"How many would you like, sir?" I heard in my left ear. Shaking my head to regain my orientation, I looked over to see a female server, waiting expectantly.

"Um...I'll have two." Using metal tongs, she plucked two of them out of the tray and set them on my plate. I tried not to show my disgust.

"Try them—they are delicious!" I heard in my other ear. It was Senator Williams addressing me.

"Okay, you talked me into it, ma'am!" I responded, deciding to be open-minded. Prying open the oyster wasn't as hard as I thought it was going to be. I dug my fork into the mass and felt it go through quite easily—disgusting, indeed! I took the first bite and chewed slowly....

My tongue had never before tasted anything quite like this! I looked up to find that my dinner companions were looking at me with amused expressions on their faces.

"It's interesting," I said aloud. "Not bad!" They broke out laughing, and I soon followed. The rest of the dinner was filled with pleasant conversation. After we had finished seven courses, a bottle of cognac was brought out. Glasses were distributed and each was filled halfway.

I had never drunk cognac before, so I watched as they picked up their glasses and swirled them gently. I followed suit and did the same. After the swirl had picked up, they lowered their noses to the rim and sniffed. Again, following suit, I did the same. A strong odor wafted up my nose, and I nearly coughed!

Before they drank, Victor raised his glass into the air and said, "Facilius per partes in cognitionem totius adducimur," and then drank. Everyone followed suit, including myself, though I didn't know what I was toasting. At the time, I didn't know what that phrase meant, but now I do. It was a quotation from Seneca the Younger (L. Annaeus Seneca) and means, "We are more easily led part by part to an understanding of the whole."

The rest of the night was a blur for me—I only had that one drink, and it was enough to cloud my brain! The only thing that I can even remotely recall is being carried into the bedroom and being deposited on the bed....]]

[12/29—Tape-recorded entry]

"Oh my God...I freaked out this morning! I just had this horrible feeling that I had been violated in some sexual way. I lifted up the sheets to see that I was butt-naked—my clothes were nowhere to be seen! I checked myself out and made sure that I was okay, and then I freaked out again when I remembered my tape recorder! After checking in the walk-in closet, I discovered all my clothes hanging up. I next checked my suit pocket frantically, afraid that it wouldn't be there, but it was there and didn't look like it had been tampered with. The tape had ended just after Victor's initial greeting last night, and this is a new tape I retrieved from my car. I wonder if it might have been discovered and put back. "

Oh well, all I can do is hope for the best...and hope that nothing has been erased! I'm going to go down and get some breakfast, as I've just been paged through his electronic intercom system. I will keep myself under control and not worry about it!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

_Victor, thirty minutes later at breakfast_ : "Jeb, there are two requirements for you to be accepted into the Order, to officially 'become.' Neither of these tasks is simple, and both will require the utmost concentration on your part! Your first requirement is to study a religion new to you—you must not know even one thing about it from firsthand experience. Your requirement is to learn everything about this religion and the people who adhere to it—their god or gods, their goals, their history, their relations with other faiths and other peoples—and once you have learned everything about them, the final step of your mission is to present your thesis on this religion to the Elders of the OSS.

"It must be no more than twenty minutes long but must cover everything—be prepared to deliver it with professionalism and dedication; to deliver it as if it were your religion; to deliver it as if you would a Ph.D. thesis—for it is the intention of the Order to weed out the weak-minded, those without hope. Do not think that you are alone in your quest, for there are many who will help you along the way.

"The second requirement is to remain completely silent about your involvement with the Order. There are many who would tease out your secrets, only to betray you with a dagger—women, men, anyone close to you—but, despite the dangers, always remember your vow never to reveal our secrets to anyone...."

"Yes, sir...."

"Now, one more thing, and this is very important as well—physical conditioning is as important as mental conditioning in your quest to 'become.' And from what I see, you are in need of some much-needed exercise! You can start in my personal gym.... Are you ready to get big and strong, young man?"

"Yes, sir.... Not only am I ready, but I am eager as well! Sir, if I may be so bold, I would like to say thank you. You truly are a gentleman and a scholar, and a Master, to boot!"

"Why, thank you very much for the compliment, son!"

"Let me go change real quick, sir!"

"Okay, we'll meet back here in five minutes!"

"Yes, sir!" _My voice gets louder as the tape recorder is pulled out of my pocket after I reach my room._ "I don't need to record anything more here because this guy..." _Deep breathing_ "...is pretty cool..... Time to go exercise!" _Click._

(Tape recorder on)

"I'm on my way home now.... I have chosen Islam as my religion—I don't know anything about it, for one thing! I had wondered what Victor's reaction might be when I told him of my choice of religion to study. He just smiled and said, 'Good choice, son!' I have a lot of work to do when I get back home.... Oh yeah, time to listen to some jams!" _Click_

[Personal Journal—2/4]

Exciting news! I just found out today that I've been promoted—again! My title is now Shipping Manager. I don't know what all of my duties are just yet—but I do know that I am making $20.50 an hour now! Nice....

In other news, I have pulled up quite a few articles on the Internet regarding Islam. Also, I just found out that one of the guys at work, Abed, is Muslim! I am hoping that he will be able to give me some expert information about his faith. The one thing Abed did tell me so far is that Muslims pray five times a day, while facing Mecca. I wonder where Mecca is....

In personal news, I counted the pages I have written so far in "The Dragon's Realm." I've written a hundred and twelve pages! Not bad....

Yesterday, I got a membership at the local gym—I know I should have gone to the gym more often since the trip to Maryland, but I've been too busy writing and studying. At least Mark, the owner of the gym, has got me set up with a personal trainer until I develop my own schedule.

This guy, Darek, is going to show me the ropes! Darek seems to be pretty cool...the other thing I like about the gym, besides the workouts, is the _lookouts_ —there are some good-looking girls in there, wearing those tight spandex outfits that reveal just about everything! Even though none of them even gave me a second look yesterday, I know that they most certainly will when I get BIG!

[Work Journal—2/7]

Today was a long day! My primary function as shipping manager is to oversee the entirety of import/export shipments through this building. And my leadership skills are already being put to the test—for although I am their boss now, my workers don't seem to want to respond to my orders. Hey, if it comes down to it, I'll either get their respect or they can find themselves a new job!

Oh, I did find out some more good news at work—it seems that Paul, of the Paul/Todd "dynamic duo," is getting promoted to another building. That means that I won't have to hear his crap anymore! Yaaa.

I'm going to go watch some TV and find out what's happening in the world....

[Magickal Journal—2/8]

I just woke up from yet another nightmare! This time, I remember it in vivid detail. I dreamed that I was deep in a forest, just before sunset...the trees had yellow- and orange-colored leaves on them, symbolic of the autumn season, and the long blades of grass were vibrant and green. I don't remember seeing any shadows, only a darkening that slowly enveloped the entire area.

I then heard the pitter-patter of feet on asphalt. When I looked in the direction of the sound, I saw an approaching figure—the silhouette of a jogger. The figure didn't seem to notice my presence and continued on her course. She finally got quite close to where I stood in the dream, and realization hit me as I saw that it was Nina, the girl from McBuck's! Either she didn't recognize me or she didn't see me at all. I even tried to shout for her, to alert her to my presence...but she kept on running and was now almost out of sight.

For some odd reason, the forest was soon transformed into a matted gray. The trees had only a little color left on their trunks and branches, and the leaves seemed dull and lifeless! The leaves began falling from the trees, and the grass began to turn yellow. Looking down at my own hands, I could see them wrinkling and turning old as well—it was then that I realized that Nina was probably aging and dying, too!

I ran after her to try and save her from death. Within seconds, I caught up to her—and this is where the dream really ended, and the nightmare started!

At first glance, she looked as if she was just sitting down beside the track. But as I drew closer, I could see that her body was actually slumped over. When I reached her, I spotted blood—Nina's blood—pouring down her shirt and onto the ground! Though it was fresh blood that poured forth, it was dull and gray...but still, I could see movement from her chest—she was still breathing! She was alive!

Immediately, I began to check her out. After pulling her jacket off gently and then laying her down, I spotted a gaping hole in her chest! Still, there was movement, and I believed that I could save her.

Ripping my shirt off, I applied pressure over the wound in her chest. After a moment, I could see that her stomach was no longer moving—realizing that she wasn't breathing, I leaned over her and began to pump her chest, my hands clasped together firmly.

After what seemed an eternity, her chest began to move again. However, the blood was pumped out through her wound, spilling all over the place—her heart had been ruptured. I realized that she would not live, and my mind cried! I gazed back into the eyes of this poor girl and found that there was no life in them whatsoever—she was dead. I could feel the tears running down my face as I cried for her. Surely, she would have a soul, I thought! I waited and waited, but never did I see that soul leave her body....

"Perhaps human beings don't really have souls...perhaps there is no soul because there is no God...perhaps there is no 'Beyond' or 'Magick' or 'Transcendence' or anything else, for that matter...perhaps it's all pure superstition...." These were my thoughts as I continued to watch her, and my spirit cried. And as my spirit cried, I felt rage build within me and erupt in a loud roar that must have penetrated into the very heavens themselves—and at that moment, I awoke!

I've sat here in the dark, mulling over this nightmare for over an hour. So many thoughts and questions have run through my head that I don't remember most of them anymore. The main question is, "What happened to her soul?" And what was that erupting sensation?

Whew! I have got to go to bed! I am completely exhausted, and I have work tomorrow....

[2/8—Tape-recorded entry]

"Okay, I am tired as all hell today...and it's only lunchtime and I'm sitting in my car. But I am going to try an exercise here...let me get myself situated! This exercise shall consist of pretending to be different characters, trying to figure out how they might think, act, and behave...for I have run out of ideas for my book, and I cannot figure out what else to do in the Underground! Trendon Harrn already has visited the city of Sh'quia, disguised as a darkling gnome. There, he ultimately discovers that the secret cargo that he had been hired to protect, but failed, was a half-surface and half-darkling breed of gnome!

"Princess Delvia is a very, very rare and exquisitely beautiful treasure, as Trendon's heart and mind immediately realize, though he keeps all this to himself. Her very interesting origins and history, and of course, how she eventually comes to meet, know, and despite her evil nature, fall in love with Trendon, though she does not know what love is, nor how to describe her desirous feelings to constantly be with him; and later, after she learns that he is actually a human, not darkling, and after some more drama and passionate kisses, the two decide to escape the city of Sh'qia—are all subjects fully discussed in my story. The only thing that doesn't get discussed, regarding Delvia, is what the surface gnomes had in store for her, should she have made it back to the their home city of Ca'li'sa...

"Anyway, Trendon and Delvia retreat to the underground city of Battlemoss, an incredibly-vast and beautiful underground city constructed and inhabited by mountain dwarves, and also the neighboring enemy to the Sh'quia gnomes.... There, they become not only friends with the dwarves, but also allies—together, thanks to Trendon's alchemical knowledge and magical abilities, and thanks to the dwarves uncanny ability to find the necessary minerals, they create powerful bombs that blow up every last passage which links the two cities—thus ending the centuries-long war. Maybe I should just make this a short story and get Trendon Harrn through the portal into the Dragon's Realm.... Wait, what am I thinking? No way! No more negative thoughts! Here we go....

"'Well, I see that it is time for a spot of tea... Just who the hell do you think you are talking to? I am an Unknown Soldier...fighting for the true cause of liberty!'

"'I am a killer...there is a savage that lingers within me...I can't explain its source, but it's authentic—fear me in my absolution, for I am that which you fear, a loathsome insect that crawls upon your body! I am that which penetrates your body and pollutes it with unholy vileness!'

"That's what I'll do—I'll make a twin, a dark half! Though he and Trendon aren't actually brothers, they were born at the same time, and there is a birthmark upon both of their bodies, in the exact same spot. This birthmark, in the shape of a teardrop, is actually a symbol of something unfathomable: It is their link together, psychically! It is also a link to their heritage and is awaiting its discovery; for it is also a key to an actual realm, where there be dragons!

"'So...do you now accept me as your brother? Probably not! But I am greater than you, for I only think about myself! You, on the other hand...you and your pitiful choices made within your pathetic existence have rather disgusted me, I must confess! If you were to join me, however, we could easily conquer and rule over the entire city of Sh'quia! Hell, we might even overthrow Sastis herself, thus becoming mighty gods! We would be worshipped, and not just by the darklings alone—every other race within this cosmos would ultimately be added to our list of slaves! However, if you won't join me, my brother, I must kill you! Make your choice now!'

"'No, brother...I will not join you! You must understand that evil begets only more evil! What solution is there but destruction? But the Laws of Neutrality _can_ make a difference...good for yourself and good for others!'

"'No matter the race, all races are extremely cautious in their selection as to whom they let rise to power, unless that choice has been taken away from them. This is especially true with worship, which represents personal reverence towards a deity, or deities. No, my brother, true power stems from the mind, heart, and soul—it must come from within...Trust me—for I know this to be!'

"No, I thought that sounded stupid! I'm going to listen to it again...okay...this has been done before, in countless ways. How can I make this scenario unique? For one thing, they shouldn't just accidentally bump into each other, being as skilled as they are in the art of fighting and in the art of magic. Both are equally intelligent, also, and both have developed some intense magical skills....

"Here's a cool idea: Let's say these guys are on a hunt for each other! At the time of their second births, which happen, not coincidentally, at the same time, they already know about each other and hate each other! Trendon Harrn is a neutral mage, while Wylan Stochsky is an evil mage—but could there possibly be a third mage that neither of them knows about? Perhaps, perhaps not! But in regards to these two mages, their hunt for each other is unique in its style.

"At each town that one or the other visits, a symbol is left for the other to discover, or not...Trendon places a coin under a table in a bar—no, on top of one of the gallows—but Wylan kills a human female in cold blood and places the coin on her forehead! The coins are identical, with the imprinted emblem of a dragon on one side and a demon on the other!

"The hunt has been on between these two archenemies since birth. If one is unaware of the other's presence and is caught unprepared, his birthmark can be removed with the Stamp of Forging, which each one has in his possession at all times. The loser dies with the removal of the tattoo. The winner inherits the key, and can then gain entry into the realm of the dragons....a portal that links countless worlds and dimensions—from ancient, fantastical, magickal, scientific, too even futuristic! Randomly, however, are these worlds selected, until full understanding of just exactly how this dragon's realm really works, and possibly who its creators were, or possibly still are....

"All right, this needs some work, but I like it! Okay, back to reality—I have five minutes left until my lunch break is over. But that was intense! I am indeed a writer—and my book may now be properly called _The Dragon's Realm_!" _Click_

## Chapter VII

Critical Solutions

[Magickal Journal—2/18]

I have a couple of hours until I must head back into work.... I gotta admit that I am having a hell of a difficult time with my managerial position. The main problem seems to be my memory. There are a million little technicalities to this job, and it seems as though I can't even remember _one_!

For example, in a specialized report that I have to submit to Barry every week, I have to have detailed charts made out on a database program—but I can't remember how to work the darn program! In the weeks since my promotion, small errors have been found in the overall shipping count three times! Though no one has said anything, I'm sure that if I don't get it together, and soon, I'm going to lose my job! What can I do to improve my memory? Though I have a decent vocabulary, I do not have the necessary brainpower to take on this task successfully—yet! Wasn't there something Bryan suggested when we first met, about fixing my brain? Or was it about fixing my nerves?

Speaking of Bryan, he's been really busy at school. He told me two weeks ago, which was the last time we saw each other...that his grades have been slipping. His father wasn't too happy with the report—Anthony is his father's name, by the way, which I only recently learned—and he has revoked Bryan's privileges once again until proof is shown of his grade improvement. I feel sorry for my best friend—his father treats him like a five-year-old, in my opinion! He's a %$#@ a-hole, in my fullest opinion! Come to think of it, in all the time I've known Bryan, he's never mentioned anything about his mother—does he have one? Is she alive? I have to ask him the next time I talk to him, whenever that may be....

Oh, just a little update on the Todd situation at work: It isn't improving, even though Paul is now gone. I wouldn't doubt it if Paul were sending Todd e-mails on how to make my life hell! For instance, I was on the phone last night, around 9 P.M., when guess who walks into my cubicle without knocking!

And the person I was talking to on the phone was none other than Richard Buicks, one of our primary vendors whom we ship to! We were going over some figures regarding a few empty boxes that he had received from us. Just as we were going through the figures, Todd walked in, to within two feet from where I sat, and looked down at me, his hands at his sides and a nasty smile on his face—I am going to practice my writing skills right now, as I explain the event itself in third person. Maybe it'll help to give me a better perspective on the situation:

[[Todd Jenkins walked into Jeb Maruso's cubicle while he was involved in an extremely important business call.

"Hey, Jeb!" Todd chirped. "Guess what? We need to talk...now!"

After looking up to see the intruder, Jeb looked back down at his computer terminal and thought to himself, "Oh, crap!" Instead of reacting, however, Jeb spoke into the phone in a professional voice, "Can you hold one minute please, Mr. Buicks?"

Mr. Buicks, who was calling long distance, replied, "Uh...yeah! Can you please hurry, though?"

Jeb responded, in that professional voice of his, "Yes, sir, Mr. Buicks, I certainly will...." After putting one of his most important clients—the largest distributor of Telexia phones across the Midwest—on hold, Jeb looked up indignantly at Todd.

Before Jeb could actually ask Todd what the hell was so important, Todd launched into his spiel. "Jeb, we need to talk, but for more than just a minute. Can you call him back? You see, as I work in the 'cage,' it is my position to make sure that you receive the cellular phones to ship out to our customers! However, what I have been finding, in looking at my statistics, is that our customers have not been receiving their products! In my books, I find that there is a shortage somewhere around here.... Have your employees been doing their job? What I am trying to get at, Jeb, is this: What steps can we take to ensure that there won't be any more loss of product? I know that you are new to this position, but you are also out of your training phase. You are working—"

Jeb, who had been calm from his deep-breathing exercises, could barely control himself and said, "You piece of—okay, listen here, Todd...now let me tell you something: The problem isn't me; the problem is you! It is my opinion that you are deliberately manipulating the modules that we've shipped out! According to our rules and regulations, it is not my responsibility to ensure that the phones are in their boxes—it's _yours_! My responsibility is to make sure that the correct amount of boxes are shipped to the right person, and properly recorded in our shipping logs.

"So, until you have some sort of concrete proof, then I strongly suggest that you have your people double-check their inventory before shipping those products from your department to mine...because if not, Todd, then _you_ will be finding another job! I will also make sure that the reason for your dismissal is listed in your credentials for any other future jobs—just so they know what type of person you really are!"

Todd, who had held that strange smirk on his face the whole time, looked at Jeb and exhaled slowly into his face. "Is that what you think?" he asked slowly.

_The beast_ had now emerged from within Jeb, fueled by the hatred that now flowed through his veins. He/it swore, "It's not what I _think_ , it's what I _know_ : You will become destitute...you will become a failure...you will become friendless and homeless and will have nothing left, other than your own bile, which you will eat in order to survive! Eventually, that, too, will run out and then you will die! But your pitiful existence will not end there—it will only begin in new realms of horror, ultimately known as the nine planes of Hell!"

Now, the smirk was completely gone from Todd's face. Instead, fear and anger were displayed in his beady eyes. The fear prevailed and he slowly backed away from Jeb and out of his cubicle! The feeling that washed over Jeb after Todd disappeared was intense! He felt as if he was a dragon and had just defended his territory from a wretched invader....

Just then, realization dawned on him and he was filled with horror as he looked down at the phone—the hold line, which had been beeping, was now lifeless! Jeb swore again, barely able to hold himself back from screaming throughout the warehouse—Mother%$#@!!]]

Pretty accurate account of it, as I recall. Maybe it's anger that harnesses my brainpower and memory, as other events are hard to remember.

Thus, before I head off to the gym and work out, I will stop at another nutrition store, besides Specialized Nutrition Center at the mall—maybe they have something there....

[2/18—Tape-recorded entry]

"Well, I just purchased some gingko biloba from the Your Nutritional Needs store. Per the bottle, it's recommended to eat a meal, so I'll wait until I eat lunch before taking a tablet. Well, time to go to the gym and work out!" _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"I bought myself an energy drink from the gym—it looks like there's some good stuff in there! By the way, I had a great workout today—my muscles are ripped! Okay, here goes with the energy drink...it tastes okay...Ugh! I take that back...bad aftertaste!" _Click_

[Daily Work Journal—2/18]

It is my intention to find the source of the problem and remove it.... I need to call Mr. Buicks in a couple of minutes, after I have finished writing in my work journal.

Todd I will deal with cordially—he did get the best of me, in a way; but, although I may have lost an important client for Telexia, I will get him back! Whatever time it takes is what I am willing to spend! I am going to mark this day..... I am going to make something of myself within this corporation.... I am going to succeed! And I am going to love doing it! Time to call Mr. Buicks....

[Daily Work Journal—2/18]

And success it is! I was able to reassure Mr. Buicks that I would get to the bottom of the situation! It took some time, and I also apologized for keeping him on hold at all. Now it's time to check on my employees and to help them make sure that our counts are right on!

[Daily Work Journal—2/18]

I have requested that all of my employees work a little over-time and double-count all the orders before shipping them out. Since this was the first day of our new method, I stayed with them the whole time—it turned out to be a very interactive experience for all of us. It only took an extra hour and a half, and we all got to know each other a little better. I have six employees who work for me—three females and three males—and I ordered pizza and sodas for everyone. I even gave them all an extra twenty-minute break to eat, which also gave me the minute I needed to grab a tablet of gingko! Good management, huh? And on the business side of things, all of our counts matched—and that is what matters most now.

[Magickal Journal—2/19]

I received an e-mail from Victor Plush today, which I am copying and pasting here:

[[Dear Samson,

In a month and three days, the Spring Equinox will be upon us! This is a very important holiday for all of our members, from Seekers to those who have already "become" within the Order. To explain what the Spring Equinox means to us, I shall explain the scientific and the metaphysical basis of the event: The Spring Equinox represents the time when the position of the earth is such that both the sun and the moon are at an equal position with respect to the earth. This means that the day and the night are both equal.

The time that we officially commemorate the Spring Equinox is March 21st, although in historical terms, the Romans celebrated their New Year on the 15th, or Ides, of March. The month of March is also attributed to the Roman god Mars. It is a time of celebration for the Romans—as it is for us, young man!

In metaphysical terms, the event can be symbolized by the following passage from an unknown author: "For around you...you shall soon see the awakenings of the buds upon the trees! You shall hear songs of birds as they play with one another in search of their mate! You shall feel the wind at your face and you shall know that you are becoming one with the Truth."

This is the definition of new life and of a new and prosperous year—the beginnings of life! Realize your Absolute Will and grow from it! Therefore, it is to the Spring Equinox that we present this token of our affection, via our magickal prowess. Attached, you shall find the Spring Equinox Ritual—study it well and commit it to memory—and in time, son, you shall understand my desire to see you succeed!

Sincerely yours,

Frater Barracus

Master of the OSS

P.S. Young man, at the top of the attached file, you shall find a list—it is necessary that you acquire all of these items for the ritual! I cannot stress the importance of having the necessary tools to help you accomplish your Absolute Will!]]

When I printed the instructions for the ritual, I noticed that there are eleven pages to this thing! And the list has about a dozen or so different items. These include candles (five different-colored ones); an athame, whatever that is; a chalice; and a bunch of herbs, stones, and oils!

I will not comment on the ritual itself, technically, but I can say this: Imagine that you are immersed in total blackness—you can imagine space if you'd like, but you need to remove all the lights and stars from it! Once you have achieved that, then you must see the sun rising into view—that must be your focal point, and then poetic words must spring forth! The words themselves, I cannot speak...but the hints I've given should be enough.

At the end of it all, I declare my wish! I wonder what I should wish for...?

It looks like I will have some work ahead of me, but for now, I will be heading off to bed! Hopefully tomorrow, Bryan will get a hold of me and we can do something. I've got to make sure I take gingko biloba before I hop into bed!

[Daily Work Journal—2/21]

Today was not a good day...not a good day at all! When I stepped into my cubicle this morning and checked my phone messages, I found one from Barry informing me that yet another shipment was short...by twenty-two phones! He then informed me that if one more shipment comes up short, I'd be finding another job!

But at least I am trying to straighten out this mess! I spent the entire day going over a computer disk from work—I figured it might be a good idea to examine Bill's monthly records in order to figure out his long-winded style—it wasn't fun.

Bill takes two hours to explain something that can be stated in two minutes! For my sake, I shall break down the procedures and summarize their meanings. In looking at my reports and critiquing them against his procedures, it does not appear that I have been doing as bad a job as I had first thought. Yes, there are a few mistakes here and there, but nothing all that bad, except for these mysterious shortages!

[2/22—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's eleven in the morning and I am heading into Chicago now; I've got to get those supplies, so that I can begin to practice the ritual. I need to make sure that I have it down! No mistakes....I wonder if I'm getting sick—I woke up not feeling that bad, but now, I am starting to feel a little light-headed. I'll just stop at the first gas station I run across and pick up some aspirin and some lozenges...." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"All right...it took about ten minutes, but those lozenges and aspirin are already starting to help! I'm going to bring the tape recorder with me into the store. In order to eliminate the muffling noises on the tape, I bought a small microphone attached to a three-foot-long cord.... Let me get set up here and then we'll go...okay...here we go!"

_Young female's voice, getting louder_ : "...hasn't called me in a week!"

_Older female's voice, drifting away_ : "Oh! Give him time..."

_Young male's voice at nearby phone booth_ : "...went through? Yes, of course I'll hold! Yes!"

_Another older female's voice, getting louder_ : "...believe he's gone!"

_An older male's voice, drifting away_ : "We all have to..."

_Me_ : "Well, almost there...To be honest, I'm kind of nervous about this trip.... I'll explain more later, as I'm going to be a gentleman and open the door for someone into the store, the Magickal Store of the Arts...."

_Beautiful, exotic, raven-haired female's voice_ : "Can I help you with something, sir?"

_Me_ : "Umm...just looking..."

"If you need something, feel free to ask...."

"Well, actually, do you know anything about magick?"

"A little, sir!"

"Great—I'm interested in seeing more of what's behind you...."

"Sir, can you please remain professional?"

"I am, miss—I was talking about your candles...the ones behind you sitting on top of the glass display case."

"The candles? Oh...I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay....I must not have made myself perfectly clear...."

"Okay...let's start at first base—I'm Vicky. What's your name?"

"I'm Jeb.... It's a pleasure to meet you, Vicky! What I'm looking for are specific materials for an important event coming up.... Will you please assist me?"

"Oh, I see...a gentleman and a scholar, to boot!"

"A student, actually."

"And what sort of event would we be referring to?"

_Me, whispering:_ "A very important one..."

_Vicky, whispering:_ "And just what could this 'very important event' possibly be?"

"The spring equinox."

"Oh...then why are we whispering?"

"Because this particular ritual is extremely confidential.... The required supplies must not be tainted by the eyes or ears of others, except for yours...and mine...Vicky."

"Oohhhhh..."

"Now do you understand?"

"Yes, Jeb.... Now, exactly what do you need?"

"I need an athame, whatever that is."

_Vicky, normal voice_ : "Well, you've come to the right place—they're right here behind me, sitting inside the glass case!"

_Me, normal voice_ : "What?"

"The ancient name for dagger is athame, from the Celtic language."

"I see."

"Yes, an athame is a mage's personal magical tool, used during rituals and other religious ceremonies. We use them for calling the watchtowers or elements within each of the four quadrants. We also use them for spells, initiations, and anything else associated with its own personal element. However, we never use them for killing or cutting—only for casting!"

"Oh."

"Come on, Jeb! We knew that one, didn't we?"

"No...actually, I didn't!"

"You are definitely a good one!"

"What do you mean?"

"You...you have a good feeling to you, Jeb, that's all!"

"Thank—" _Click_

(Other side of tape)

"The tape ended abruptly during my nice conversation with Vicky at the Magickal Store of the Arts! She gave me a thorough description of each item I purchased. Altogether, I spent more than two hundred dollars, but that's okay, because I've got everything I needed—except for the rose, which I can get anywhere.... I even got another book, titled _Ceremonial Magick for the Beginner_." ( _coughing fit_ ) "Uh-oh...time for another lozenge!

"Ah...now, where were we? Oh yes, Vicky—she was the hottest thing I have ever seen! Oh my God! She's a doll! She didn't give me her phone number, but neither did I ask for it.... Oh well, perhaps if fate allows it....

"Time to get to work! Though it's only twelve o'clock now, I have some extra work to do, so I'm heading in early." _Click_

[Daily Work Journal—2/28]

So far, so good—our shipments have been completely accurate this week. In addition, I have gone into my employees' personal files to examine their pasts—perhaps one of them is stealing, but I'd rather not think that way. I am just doing it to be on the safe side! I wonder if it'd be possible to check out Todd's past, too.... Hmmm..... Speaking of Todd, he threw me the dirtiest look today as he passed by my cube! That putrid punk.... Why does God allow such vermin to walk the earth? Uh-oh! Rachelle is heading over to my office, and she doesn't look too happy.... Hold on a sec.

[Daily Work Journal—2/28]

Okay... According to my computer's clock, it's now 7:29 P.M., so that means that it took forty-five minutes to straighten out the incident that just took place! Briefly, I was informed by the girls that Todd has been harassing them, complaining about their quote-unquote sloppy shipping procedures.

"He has been standing over their shoulders, irritating them as they attempted to wrap their bundles. Apparently, he was going overboard with suggestions on how they could get a tighter fit if they were to try it his way. After about ten minutes of this harassment, Rachelle snapped! In her own words, she said, "Can you please just take your nasty-smelling butt and get the hell out of my face?"

Apparently, his reply was, "My butt is a hell of a lot cleaner than yours," and he didn't move from his spot!

Sonja then became irritated with Todd and pushed him hard to the ground, yelling, "Why don't you learn some respect?"

Sherry laughed at Sonja's outburst and chimed in, "Whose butt do you think is the dirtiest now?"

Rachel said that the three of them bust out laughing, which caused Todd to leave with his face beet-red from anger and his white pants dirty, which caused the girls to laugh even harder!

Technically, I should be writing up all three girls for their physical outburst, but I'm not going to! Knowing Todd for the scoundrel that he is, I figure he'll probably run to Barry and tell him his version, filled with lies, in an attempt to get my girls in trouble—I need to be on top of the situation!

[Daily Work Journal—2/28]

Okay, Barry and I met halfway. We were on the way to each other's office when we ran into each other, not literally. As I began explaining the girls' side of the story, Todd suddenly appeared, with that putrid smile on his face!

"There's a problem that we need to talk about, Barry," I said. "And without Todd's presence."

Before I could continue, Todd interrupted. "There is nothing that can't be said without me having the chance to defend myself—I did nothing wrong, except to help ensure that our products are being shipped properly and accurately. Several customers have been filing complaints about damaged and missing products! Since you haven't been doing your job, someone has to do it!" I took a deep breath and slowly released it. In my head, I thought the words, "The serpent wise protects one from all lies!"

I looked over at Todd and said, "Todd...Rachelle informed me that you were hovering over them like a fly on %$#@ and harassing them!" Turning to Barry, I apologized, "Please excuse my language, but what I am telling you is true! The girls only defended themselves! Anyone would have reacted the same way because I know how annoying Todd can really be! Barry, just ask the girls yourself before you pass any judgment, okay?" I was quite surprised at Todd's reaction, or the lack thereof, for he hadn't uttered a word, but only kept that sarcastic smile, trying to instigate me to anger!

But this time, Barry caught that look and turned to Todd, saying, "Todd, I don't want to hear about you being in Jeb's shipping department again.... I don't care what you have to do or who you have to send to do it, but if I hear about another incident involving you, you will be fired on the spot!" Todd's smile completely disappeared and was replaced by an expression of hatred and disgust!

"But, Barry," Todd whined, "that's not fair! You're not considering both sides."

"No more interfering outside your turf! Understand?"

"Yes, Barry," Todd replied sheepishly. "I do understand, and I even apologize to Jeb and the girls...but I am just seriously concerned about the malfun—"

"Just concern yourself with your job, Todd—or concern yourself with finding another job! That will be all."

Barry looked back at me, and I nodded my head and said, "Thank you, Barry." I then headed straight back here to my cubicle to record the incident. In any case, the chant worked again! Okay, time to inform the girls.

[Daily Work Journal—2/28]

%$#@! It looks like I forgot to lock my computer up when I went to relay the news to the girls...but that's all right, I was only gone a few minutes.

[[Recollections from Death Row—Before I continue, I wish to clarify something about this next entry: This entry was used against me in court and was particularly damaging to my case. The double brackets in this particular entry contain comments that I am interjecting now, so that you will understand exactly what I meant when I wrote it! Without this type of clarification, it is very easy to get the messages mixed up—unless, of course, you understand the situation that took place at the time.]]

[Magickal Journal—2/28]

Until this situation gets resolved [[at work]], I think I have little choice but to take drastic measures. [[I needed to stop writing and researching materials for the thesis on Islam and _The Dragon's_ _Realm_ in order to use my free time to get to the bottom of things at work]]. After I got home tonight, I noticed that there were twelve calls on my machine...and after I hit the [[PLAY]] button on the machine, I heard hang-ups on all twelve of them! Someone either misdialed my number and then hung up twelve different times, or intentionally hung up twelve times to try and freak me out! Now, I have no choice but to take drastic measures [[already explained]]—I know now that I am not just paranoid. But why would someone do this to me? I'm starting to think that there is someone [[Todd for sure...and possibly the others whom I could not see at the time]] who is out to take me down [[Cellular phone shortages and phone calls]]....So be it—my wish shall be to gain control over all this madness and remove my enemies from my existence!

## Chapter VIII

Rise To Power

[3/21—Tape-recorded entry]

"Tonight is a special night for me! I have gone over the ritual a thousand times, so that there will be no mistakes—and so that I may truly learn from it, I am going to record this event for posterity. In eleven minutes, it shall be midnight—at that moment, I shall draw the quadrants and begin the ritual...." _Blowing sound_

".....I am smoking my last cigarette before the festivities begin—for I must be careful not to accidentally sprinkle any of the ashes onto the circle, which is made of salt crushed with blue chalk....

"I now have ten minutes until the ritual officially commences with the dawning of spring! Why I have chosen to tape record this event is so that if anything important happens, I'll have it recorded for later study; I see no problem with it, so long as it doesn't get out.

I will use my square lamp table from my living room as the altar, covered by a black bed sheet. Each of the corners is facing a quadrant—north, south, east, west—and I have placed four candles on each corner and one for the center. The colors are coordinated with their given quadrants: green for north, red for south, yellow for east, and blue for west!

"Behind the center candle, which is white—and which stands for spirituality—I have placed a rose in a tinted glass vase. Just before the candle, I have placed my Book of Shadows, where the ritual has been written down—in dragon's blood on virgin parchment. To the left of the center candle, I have a small bowl half-filled with wine. To the right, I have placed a loaf of whole-wheat bread! Surrounding the whole table, I have placed a nice selection of flowers, as symbolic reminders of spring....

"Five minutes left.... Fortunately, this table has another ledge just underneath the surface; I'm going to place the tape recorder on it and out of sight, so that I'm not distracted!

"One minute left..... I can already feel my skin tingling beneath these white robes! It feels strangely exotic to be wearing this type of material...okay, time to turn off the lights! Fortunately, the street light shines into this room! I have to make sure that I don't step on the circle—a definite no-no!

"Time to begin...hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the East, powers of air!" _My voice rises._ "I summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...my circle!" _Sound of a match being lit._

"Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the South, powers of fire! I summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...my circle!" _Sound of a match being lit._

"Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the West, powers of water! I summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...my circle!" _Sound of a match being lit._

"Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the North, powers of earth! I summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...my circle!" _Sound of a match being lit._

"Hail, ye rulers of the fifth element, the element of the Aethyr..... Hear me and come, I ask of Thee! Join me in my quest for liberty through the name of the holy of holies, 'Order!' Amen...."

_Me, reading from book_ : "I now stand on the threshold between the World of Humanity and the Realms of the Rulers...to serve and to uphold, and to help transition the changing of the seasons from winter to spring!" _Sound of page turning_ "As spring shall set upon us, so shall the potential for growth arise! For the outside, as well as the inside! As above, so below! Who can truly hold us back but ourselves? Let the celebration commence, following this poem dedicated to the success of our rites, called _Nature and the Gods_ :

"Prosper from the spring anew,

And the days that grow longer, too...

Nippy was the weather that passed,

Tightened belts as we were forced to fast!

Here comes the promise,

Evermore is the assurance...

Of spring filled with new life,

Now rising over the tumultuous strife!

Order thy Mind to remove all the bars,

Seizing then, the times of blessed Mars,

So make thy Wish...and release it...back to the stars!

"My wish is to recover—not just uncover—from my enemies that smother...And to release my sins—let me in—to ascend.... Now is the time to justify—and glorify while I fly—no longer any questions, 'Why?'" _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—I gave careful consideration to what I really wanted prior to the ritual! If one were to listen to it, as opposed to reading it, as my jurors did, one also would have missed the subtlety of its mysterious work....]]

[Magickal Journal—3/22]

A vision just came to me—the solution to all of my problems—although I would never have believed it possible before.... Now I do.

Almost immediately following the wish spell I had cast, my eyes strayed over to the center flame, which had risen in height to nearly a foot, jumping up and down excitedly, as if reaching for the heavens themselves! Next, my body began to pulsate rhythmically, yet my eyes only continued to watch the flame, which continued to rise and was now over a foot and a half in length! Gaping in awe, I could only mutter, "My God...." Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't move—I was frozen to the ground, yet my body pulsated with the tingling energy coursing through my veins! Little did I know about the "intelligence" that had come—an intelligence far superior to mine—and to be honest, I grew quite alarmed!

All of this is going to sound crazy, but here is what happened next:

"Zeus" is the word that I heard from within the center flame! All of the candles on the table then changed colors, from a flaming yellow to a glowing red, and they began wrapping themselves around the center flame, while the vibrations from that word flowed into my body....

"Zeus" is the word that I heard once again from within that unified flame; little did I know what was going on around me, having become quite nervous and completely absorbed, as I had never felt anything quite like it before. Erupting before me, an angel emerged! Looking at me with a gentle smile, he extended his hands out toward me in a friendly gesture, and a strange feeling of peace spread throughout my body....

I then watched as the angel gave me a vision, and I saw the deeds of a very bad boy become evident—but when the vision ended, the flames returned to their normal state and the angel disappeared!

All of the important events of the night are now recorded, and though I am quite tired, I have one more question to ask: Oh, why didn't the angel tell me his name, so that I could test the spirits?

[3/22—Tape-recorded entry]

"I'm on my way into work, but I'm still so exhausted..... I need a good drag of a nice square! Last night feels like it was only a dream, but I believe that it happened! There's no doubt in my mind—but where did that being come from?" _Cigarette being lit_ "Ah.....I feel a tad bit better now. I am going to have to wait a little while before I take care of business with Todd at work...for patience and silence are the two ingredients necessary for a proper solution...." _Hysterical laughter_ ".....Oh, yes—Todd will be mine!" _Click_

[Daily Work Journal—3/22]

Business as usual.... I have decided that I will be paying greater attention to my surroundings from now on. I am still tired, but that is what a professional must learn to tolerate in order to progress onward!

And of course, in time, things will become quite pleasant for me! Time to take care of some business.

[Magickal Journal—3/30]

I'm up early this morning for a change! I have decided to try casting my first magick spell—I am going to be using the Enochian system of magick, and I will be invoking an angel by the name of "OM-BA," pronounced "Ohm-be-ah," by Baron Christopher Benning's translation. The ritual is very complicated and difficult to perform.... I will have to put a lot of thought into performing this spell. Without going into all of the specifics of the ritual, I will just summarize my reasons for doing this:

I may sometimes feel like I'm smart, but there are other times when I am as dumb as a bat, and I don't know why! Sometimes, I have strong feelings of euphoria, and there are other times that I can barely make it out of bed, as I'm feeling scared and weak! Why does my life feel like a vicious cycle between the two states of mind? I believe that I can progress so much further in life, at all levels, and I believe that this angel may help me to accomplish this! Let's hope it works.

On another note, I miss Bryan—I haven't heard a thing from him in almost two months. I hope he's improving at school, but I wonder if his dad is using it as an excuse to keep him away from someone like me—doesn't he know by now that I am a Seeker? And that I'm proving myself by "becoming" more successful every day?

Let's try to think positive—after all, studying law is not easy, and Bryan still has another year and a half left till he graduates! Then our friendship can be renewed—and we'll have so much to talk about! By then, I might have actually made myself a success. In the meantime, although I do miss hanging around with him, I've got so many things to do that I have very little time to myself—and it's so hard to keep up!

Okay—I'll do it! The spell, that is! I want to be a success in this world, for him and for myself!

[Daily Work Journal—4/1]

Normally, I wouldn't write about a subject like this in my work entry...but this time, I have to, as I can't stop thinking about what just happened: I did it! I did what I said I was going to do—I don't feel any smarter, but I know that patience is a virtue. Well, I hope that I did it right. I didn't actually see the angel, but I did a pretty good job of visualizing him as if he was actually there—that is the key to spell craft, right?

No problems to report at work. I sometimes come in early and sometimes leave late—I'm avoiding carrying a routine, so that no suspicions are aroused—and therefore, there is no pattern to my appearances. That'll make it easier to take care of _him_ at the appointed time! I'm also making sure (sometimes secretly) that all of the packing slips are correctly placed. As well, I'm keeping everything of mine locked away, especially this computer!

[Daily Work Journal—4/6]

No shortages for almost a couple of months—a very good thing! That sets me up for my next topic: I have finally put together the entire seven-step procedure! Of course, it still needs more work, but eventually, it might even be possible to present this to Telexia for potential guidelines for all managers throughout our entire distribution system! Who knows? I have 120 pages of materials so far, which I have worked on nonstop, and which is in easy-to-read English, including photographs.

And now, to accomplish the seven-step procedure, I have presented seven chapters! Currently, I have this data stored on a disk labeled, "The Easy Way to be a Professional Shipping Manager at Telexia." Yes, I know it's a long title, but I'm sure that as my new system is refined, so too will the title be refined!

Oh—I am keeping this disk quite safeguarded! I'll probably be done with it in another week or so; I want to knock it down by forty pages or so.

Time to check on my employees.

[Magickal Journal—4/7]

In a few minutes, I will be leaving to take care of some unfinished business. I have come up with a plan of attack! I am bringing my new Telexia XR-3 video recorder and film with me to use as proof when I bring up the conspiracy to my supervisors on Monday—time to go!

[4/8—Tape-recorded entry]

"It's almost time—five more minutes until showtime! I am hiding now on the top shelf, behind some boxes.... Fortunately, my camera has auto-zoom for close-up shots, so all of this will be very easy for me; and I have the flasher off so that I can film without being discovered. I pretended to be really tired at work today—yawning and stretching all night long—and telling everyone that I was calling it a night at 10 P.M. Well, I'm back, and it's now 12:15 A.M. Everyone is gone for the night, and there is one shipment that hasn't gone out yet! It's just like the vision showed me..... Everything is set up and ready—let him try to weasel his way out of this one!

"One and a half minutes left.... Ultimately, this is a test of my sanity, for perhaps I made the whole vision up! Perhaps it's just a fantasy from doing too much pretending! We'll find out in a few minutes....one minute left...now is the time when it is all proven.... The serpent wise protects one from all lies!" _Bay door opening; sound of running truck._ "Todd, at 12:25 in the morning, is now prying his fingers through the loose plastic wrappings and stealing my phones! Let me just say that pictures speak a thousand words!"

_Todd's voice_ : "Hey! Pssst! I'm ready!" _Sound of footsteps and door closing._

_Me, whispering_ : "Busted!" _Click_

[Magickal Journal—4/8]

Almost time to go to bed after a hard evening! Hell, yeah, it was fun—I felt like a spy! I'd write more now, but Bryan just paged me two seconds ago—time to go! Life is awesome—and you know what? I'm no longer tired!

[Personal Journal—4/9]

Can I say that I've ever had a better weekend? Hell, no! I finally talked Bryan into going out, despite the hour—but it wasn't just anywhere out! Hell, the clubs were open till four in the morning—that left us only an hour to get to Chicago and celebrate—but when I mentioned celebration, he asked what we would be celebrating. That's when I got all excited, but I said only, "You'll just have to wait and find out!" Well, we went there and had the time of our lives—I just got back home!

Holy %$#@! I just had a chill course up and down my back! Oh—there's something in here! I don't know what it is, and I'm not sure If I like it or not. What the hell?! I just saw a shadow race across the room! Now my arms have goose bumps all up and down them...somehow, I need to keep writing...I don't know why, but I can't stop!

Holy %$#@! To be honest, my breathing is labored right now and my eyes are tearing up...that shadow is back, and it is standing right in front of me! I swear to God—now my nose is starting to water, too—what the hell is going on?

The shadow didn't actually cross the whole room but raced to the center and stopped immediately...oh my God...the shadow is now beginning to take on a form! It looks like a goat, but with a human body! It has angelic wings, but its image is grotesque! All right, I'm doing my deep breathing now to get myself back under control...okay, that's better. I'm going to try an experiment: I'm going to ask it questions on the computer, to see if it can comprehend what I'm saying....

_Me_ : Who are you?

_Spirit_ : I am he!

Who?

He who is above and beyond all things!

You are he?

Yes!

Prove it!

Look at the number 15—this is my number!

Why are you here, then?

I am here to guide you to the beyond....

Now?

Yes—for you have proven yourself and your desire to leave this God-forsaken place!

What?

Yes, it is true—you are no longer needed here....

So, what must I do?

You must finish yourself....

What?!

You must kill yourself, but you must kill others first....

Why?!

Because you must discover your evil nature—the nature that exists within every man and woman. That evil can no longer be feared but must be accepted without condition.... That fear is of death!

Are you...Death?

Yes. But I am also the Giver of Life—in a new existence!

How should I finish the others off?

You must use their deepest fears against the criminals, murder them, and then steal their souls—it is what makes you what you are....

I don't believe you! It's not my nature to kill anyone, not even a criminal!

Yes, it is....

Then how many must I kill?

Three hundred and thirty-three—it is a holy number, which you shall soon discover....

Where are your symbols?

To what symbols do you refer?

Your star sign...your patron god...your color.... Are you a god? Are you the devil? Are you me? Who are you? Unless everything is aligned, I shall not do as you suggest!

Is not the number alone enough?

No, it isn't....

Very well, then. My star is Capricorn.... My color is charcoal, gray, black, or green.... My patron god is Saturn and I am an aspect of his full nature! I am known as the God of Victory. I am known by the names of Baphomet, Azazel, Osiris, Vishnu-Siva, Set, Thoth, Hermes Trismesgistus! I am you, as I am myself. We are, to a certain degree, one and the same! The gods are not pleased with the results of humanity—it is time that the criminals are punished for their sins!

But who am I, to be their judge, their jury, their executioner?

You are the one commissioned due to your increased mentality (judge). You are the one selected due to your increased emotionality (jury). You are the one elected by the gods to carry out your task. (executioner). Our strengths and powers are now with you to help you accomplish your tasks....

Until I test you out—which I will, eventually—and until then, I will do absolutely nothing! This I swear by everything that is moral and conscientious about me! Goodbye....

[Magickal Journal—4/9]

That was weird—really, really weird! I wonder if I am actually going insane! But I swear that I did see him...I've got to get my mind off this for a while—I'm going to get some dinner and watch some TV.

[Daily Work Journal—4/11]

As predicted, Todd is no longer working for the company. To be honest, I kind of felt sorry for the guy—he did just about anything not to lose his job! He was almost on his hands and knees, explaining that he had a few major problems that he was working on.

When Laura asked what that problem was, he finally broke down, with his head to the floor and his shoulders sagging, and responded, "I...I have a drug problem...I swear that I didn't want to hurt the company...but what else was I to do? I'll go through rehab, but please don't fire me! I promise I will pay for every last missing phone."

I remember watching him with a strange expression on my face—the dude pissed me off so badly with all his crap, but for some reason, at that time, I still felt sorry for the dude! Barry turned to me, as if seeking an answer; I felt his gaze upon me and turned to look at him. No one else said anything, either, including Barry's boss, Jim Gutherfield; Jim's boss, Sue Anderson; and Steve Booker, the district supervisor for the Midwest! I figured that they would have been all over him, throwing accusations left and right, but still, they were silent and waiting for my answer!

The pressure was really on me now, but within moments, I had made my decision—a decision that I would probably regret. Finally, I spoke: "Since day one, Todd, you and Paul have been on my case! Due to my promotions, a result of my hard work, you became envious of me and sought to destroy my reputation and make me look like a thief...."

I stopped to let it sink in, and still, no one said a word. "But I am also a forgiving man, and I now see your plight! Though it is not my decision to keep you or let you go, let me say this: I forgive you for your transgressions toward me—but get some help, or you will lose yourself!" I looked around the room, no longer at Todd, but at the senior officials of Telexia. "Well, that's all I have to say!" I headed back here to my workstation to record the incident.

[Magickal Journal—4/30]

Guess what? Victoria is coming over to my house tonight! She hates it when I call her that, but she'll get used to it, sooner or later—it's a very exquisite name for a very exquisite woman! I'll try to write a poem about my feelings for her—maybe I'll even give it to her one day! Here goes....

Venus, my goddess of Love,

Immortally sent from above.

Can it be, my sweet,

That you are my favorite treat?

Or know that you can now rest,

Right here in my arms and chest!

I love you in thy splendorous glory!

Always together...can true love be our story?

On second thought, after having read it, I think it sounds corny! I'll just keep it here, though—FMEO (For My Eyes Only).

Anyway, Bryan's also coming over tonight—this is going to be one hell of a night! I can feel the excitement! We have selected a spot to perform the ritual at midnight. Hopefully, we'll be able to get into the forest preserve unnoticed. Everything is set—we have all the tools necessary, including my athame. When I pick up Excalibur, my razor-sharp eleven-inch double-edged athame, I can feel the power surge through it! Ah...just touching the soft, black, velvet cover gives me the chills!

I can't wait for Bryan to meet Vicky—I love both of them so much—oh, my two guests have just arrived! Gotta go.

(Tape-recorder on)

_Me_ : "It's 11:30 P.M., and the skies are crystal clear! You can see stars everywhere! The air isn't too cold, but it's hard to predict how we'll feel in our ritual robes...." _My voice, imitating a cartoon character._ "Duh, we'll have to, like, get naked and stuff, duh, yeah...cool! Wow!" _All of us laughing for a few seconds..._

_Vicky, laughing_ : "Jeb—turn that thing off!"

_Bryan's voice, imitating a cartoon character_ : "Yuppers, we sure will! Then we'll, like, score a homer! Score! Yup, yup, yup, we sure like that idea...yuppers _!" The sounds of hysterical laughter for nearly a minute...._

_Vicky, still laughing_ : "Great! What have I gotten myself into?"

_Me, laughter dying out_ : "Come on, guys.... Seriously, time's short! Are we ready?"

_Bryan, now serious_ : "I'm ready—how about you, Vicky?"

_Vicky, also serious_ : "Ready. You, Jeb?"

_Me_ : "Let's do it!"

_Bryan_ : "You said you know how to call down the elements properly, right?"

_Me_ : "Yes, I do. Hold on—let me first set the tape recorder down out of the way. Okay...let's begin...." _Sound of match being lit._ "Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the East, powers of air! We summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...our circle!" _Sound of match being lit._ "Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the South, powers of fire! We summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...our circle!" _Sound of match being lit._ "Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the West, powers of water! We summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...our circle!" _Sound of match being lit._ "Hail, ye guardians of the watchtowers of the North, powers of earth! We summon Thee and invoke Thee into this...our circle!"

_Vicky_ : "Hail, ye Triple Goddess, Maiden, Mother, and Crone! The three-in-one! I invoke Thee! Come into me!"

_Bryan_ : "Hail, ye Horned God! Lord Cernunnos, I invoke Thee! Male consort and balance to the Triple Goddess! To Thee!"

_Me_ : "Hail, ye...Mithras! The Son-Sun-God, I invoke Thee! The child and completion of the Supernal Triad! As it should be."

_In unison_ : "Amen..."

_Vicky, echo_ : "I believe that it is time for the children to know of their fates!"

_Bryan, echo_ : "No, I do not believe that they are ready." _Sound of wind picking up._

_Me, echo_ : "Why?"

_Bryan, echo_ : "Never you mind, son." _Sound of wind intensifying!_

_Vicky, barely audible_ : "Let us tell them, dear!"

_Bryan, barely audible_ : "No...let them figure it out with their own divine intelligence!"

_Me, barely audible_ : "Yes, Father...tell us!" _DEAFENING WINDS_

_Vicky's voice—intelligible only after sound of deafening winds was technologically filtered out_ : "Our time grows short...please give them the choice to accept their fates or not!"

_Bryan's voice—intelligible only after sound of deafening winds was technologically filtered out_ : "I can hardly hear you, dear...but they already have the answers in their hands! One will go mad, and one will die, but one will become the savior for them all...."

_My voice—intelligible only after sound of deafening winds was technologically filtered out_ : "They're crawling all over me!" _Sound of tape recorder smashing into a tree..._

Click

[Magickal Journal—4/31]

It's 2:15 A.M., and I am on the verge of falling asleep here at the computer, but I have to write this.

My tape recorder is completely busted—something caused it to smash into a tree! Though we were able to locate the tape recorder fairly easily in the dark, we could not find the tape itself anywhere!

The strange thing about the ritual was that none of us could re-member what happened after I invoked Mithras—we had all blacked out! What the hell happened during the invocation? Were we possessed? What did we say? I really want to talk more about this now, but I have to go to bed—I'm completely exhausted! We've all agreed that we need to go back first thing tomorrow morning and locate that tape!

Goodnight.

[Magickal Journal—4/31]

Good news! I was able to find the tape...it took over an hour to locate it, but just as we were about to give up, I kicked randomly at a pile of leaves, and as I looked down, there it was! Only now I need to buy a new tape recorder. It sucks that my old one is broken.

Oh, well, it's been tossed into my recycling bin! Bryan and Vicky have already departed for school and work.

[Magickal Journal—5/8]

I finally bought a tape recorder to replace my old one! Though I listened to the tape many times over, the last part of it was completely unintelligible—the winds had really picked up!

In other news, Victor Plush sent me an e-mail today! Here is what the letter said:

[[Greetings Samson,

Young man, it has been some time since we last spoke. I was wondering as to your welfare? After all, it is important for a seeker to get to know his teacher and vice-versa! I must admit that it was truly a pleasure having you over. Our guests had nothing but positive things to say about you, Jeb. Consider that an honor, indeed.

There are several things that I would like to discuss with you, if a meeting can be arranged. However, they are of a delicate nature and should only be spoken of in person, perhaps over breakfast—how does that sound to you? My only request is that you give me a week to prepare for your coming.

Well, it was nice chatting with you, young man—take care of yourself.

Ever yours,

Frater Barracus,

Master of the OSS]]

I was truly touched by his letter! I wrote him back, giving him a generalized update. Of course, I mentioned that I would be honored to go back and visit him again! My suggestion was that we meet sometime in mid-May; I have acquired two additional vacation days, to be added to my four existing days—it was Barry's suggestion to accept the gift, with gratitude from Steve Booker for my discovery.

Well, the extra time will come in handy—I've finally finished my thesis on Islam! It was fortunate that Abed came to my aid—he really gave me some awesome information. Of course, I reassured him that I would never degrade his religion. His response to me was this:

"It is always a pleasure to help you, Jeb.... Take from the religion what you will—for it is Allah who allows this! According to the Koran, Allah has created all of mankind as one religious, moral people. However, humanity's exercising of its freedom of will, and its claims of self-sufficiency, has led to its deviation from the one true path. Because of Allah's universal grace, He sent to them guidance in the form of messengers, to convey His message through the people's form of understanding."

Personally, Abed is a really nice guy! He is married to an Indian girl named Ananda. I'm hoping that he will bring me some of his ethnic food to try out! I told him to lay low on the spices, and he agreed.

Last but not least, I can finally resume working on _The Dragon's Realm_! I can hardly wait to start back up tomorrow.

Gotta go.

## Chapter IX

Technicalities

[Magickal Journal—5/6]

Oh, my God, did that freak the hell out of me! Not even five minutes ago, I saw the most beautiful woman I've ever seen suddenly pop up in middle of the dream. However, imprinted upon her face was a look of great fear; she immediately began to plead with me to wake up!

Even though I seriously wanted to learn more about this woman, her frightened manner seemed very desperate, so I heeded her advice and forced myself awake—indeed, still lying in my bed, I discovered that I was slowly being surrounded by many red gargoyle-like demons with glowing-red eyes, and incredibly-long fangs and claws which all appeared razor-sharp—there were many more still sneaking their way into my room through the walls, floor, and ceiling, drawing closer and closer by the second!

The room was becoming packed with their foulness, making it hard to breathe!

Terrified, I tried to stammer, "Who...who are you?," but found that my voice had become quite raspy and thin.

Chills ran up and down my spine, as the demons' eyes flared for a moment in unison; still in unison, they then growled, "We are Legion....."

"Oh my God," I finally whispered.

"No..." they all answered, "Prepare to suffer, die, only to suffer eternally, human!"

Instinctively, I chanted: "The serpent wise protects one from all lies!"

"No!" they whined and pleaded. "Stop!"

"Amen!" I added, and without waiting for a reply, I firmly demanded, "Who are you?"

This time, I heard over a thousand names at the same time—most of the names were from obscure languages that I've never heard of, but some had the names of negative emotions and actions: "Deception," "Jealousy," "Envy," "Lust," "Depression," "Suicide," "Malice," "Revenge," and "Murder."

After processing their names, I proceeded with my inquiry and demanded, "Why are you here?"

Their answer was filled with hatred and disgust at their inability to tell anything but the truth: "We are here to destroy you!"

"Why?" I asked, as chills ran up and down my spine again.

"Because...we have been sent by the Master!"

"Who is the Master?" I asked, becoming more confused with each answer.

The demons began to whine loudly, and I found myself putting my hands over my ears to muffle the highly irritating sound. Finally, in a deafening roar, they answered, "The Master is...Magnium!"

Not trusting them at all, I, with my hands still cupped over my ears, "Why are you answering all of my questions?"

"Because we must!"

"By whose authority?" I had somehow stunned them with this last question. They turned from me and stared at each other, at first in confusion and then anger—after roaring so loud that it even hurt my hand-protected ears, they vanished! It took a few extra minutes before I could clear my head from the ringing in my ears...and it was only then that I wondered aloud, "Who in the hell is Magnium?"

P.S. No information was to be found on the Internet regarding who this Magnium could be.

[Magickal Journal—5/11]

Victor Plush sent me a letter yesterday regarding the upcoming weekend. For the third time, he asked whether I was actually ready to deliver my thesis to the Elders or if I needed more time. Of course, I responded in the affirmative—I am ready! I will be leaving for Maryland tomorrow morning.

In other news, I have just finished a meditation session, and what an interesting session it turned out to be! A vision appeared to me, and I could see a scene as if on a television set. I could see rocks being thrown at some strange-looking military vehicles, which definitely weren't American, and the scene shifted, as if from a moving camera, and settled on some Arabic youths. Their faces were contorted into looks of hatred, and I could hear the sounds of sirens in the asked air.

The "camera" zoomed back to the military vehicles again; the doors opened and several Arabic soldiers, armed with strange-looking assault rifles, jumped out. As rocks thrown by the youths pelted the soldiers, the soldiers retaliated by opening fire, killing most of them!

I was then whisked out of the dream and back to reality, with no idea of what had happened! I wonder what it means?

[5/12—Tape-recorded entry]

"Well, I didn't hear anything specific about the Middle East yesterday, last night, or today. Perhaps the vision I had pertained to some future event or some recent event that we ordinary Americans aren't meant to hear about....

"Well, I'm almost done packing! I'll be leaving in about twenty minutes or so, back to the ole' castle...I'm so excited! Whooooooooo!

"I've written about 250 pages of 'The Dragon's Realm!' I am almost done! I have to finish the last two chapters, the climax and the ending, about forty more pages or so, and then I have to write a segment for the second book—something to keep the readers thirsting for more! Okay, what should I do for my second book?

"Oh yeah—Trendon Harrn, a very powerful arch mage and warrior in the Chaos Lands, travels through the mysterious portal of the Dragon's Realm and arrives upon the planet of Manos. But the problem is, as Trendon soon discovers, none of his magical items or spells work—not even the slightest cantrip! To make matters worse, the portal won't reopen, either, despite any and all attempts.

"Mistake it not—magick exists on Manos, but the laws that govern it are different. It is the Gods, he shall eventually discover, who grant the powers of magick to their followers upon this new, forbidden frontier—instead of chaotic nature!

"The only thing that he has going for and against him, power-wise, is the Vompareus. Still, as Trendon continues to refuse to drink the blood of good-aligned humanoids like humans, elves, and dwarves; this frequently denies him most of his superpowers, other than his night-vision and immortality. Continuously does he seek a cure...to his vampirism and to his nocturnal lifestyle.

"One thing to note—I need to contact the Fantasy Writers Guild, or whoever is responsible for giving me approval to use a bit of their materials, so that I don't get sued!" _Car starting_

"The truth is, Trendon says nothing to anyone about the portal between the two worlds, which is located within the ruins of an ancient temple—his reasoning is that the fewer who know about it, the safer it'll be for exploration and to find out just who created these two ancient, yet identical, temples! The temples lie within small caves, just near the surfaces of both worlds. In the world of...Manos, just twenty miles northeast of the city of...Thespier, and in the Chaos Realms, about one hundred and fifty miles east of the city of Harrnsforte, in a remote part of the Mountains of—" _Click_

(New tape)

"I really hate it when that happens! My tape ended without me knowing about it and I conjured a ton of useful and exciting information about my sequel...maybe the whole book? Oh well, at least I got a pretty good memory nowadays, which is continuously getting better and better.

"Well, I'm going to listen to some music and relax...my throat's tired from all the talking anyway. And I still have much farther to go until I reach Victor's castle...." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Well, I've finally crossed over into the border of Maryland...I have another hour to go, and then I'll be able to relax at Victor's house. Come to think of it, the more and more I think about Victor, the more I like the guy! To be fair to him, I wonder if I should tell him that I recorded the conversations that we had on my last visit there." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

_Me_ : "Are you sure you don't mind me using the tape recorder to record our conversations?"

_Victor_ : "Wait a second...which conversations did you record, if you don't mind me asking? You didn't record our guests, did you?"

"No, sir, I only wanted to know more about you, my teacher. I thought about it before dinner the last time I was here; but no, I chose not to go through with it!"

"Young man, on the one hand, I'm a little perturbed that you chose this type of deception.... On the other hand, I find it ingenious!"

"I'm not sure whether to be ashamed or proud, sir!"

"Well, now that I think about it, the students in ancient times used to record the great sayings of their teachers! At first all knowledge was passed on orally, but then writing and printing evolved, followed by electronic media. As long as you are using your tape recorder for personal reasons only, I suppose it's okay...but once you're done with the tapes, please destroy them...deal?"

"Deal! Thank you, sir!"

"Now, then, dinner should be ready in about an hour—are you getting hungry?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Sit, please. Get yourself nice and comfortable.... Now, tell me, young man, how have you been doing?"

"Very good, sir—as I said in my last e-mail to you, I am now a Manager in the shipping department at Telexia!"

"Very good, indeed! We of the Order accept only those who can reach their aspirations on all levels—after all, we can either let ourselves be chained to false ideals and illusions, or we can truly transcend our limitations by cutting those chains and rising to the next level of attainment."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Jeb, ask any question of me and I shall answer to the best of my ability."

"First of all, what exactly is the purpose of the Order?"

"The OSS is an Order of the Elite, a group of like-minded professionals, all carefully placed into one field or another. We are ultimately in control of both this physical world and the worlds beyond, for we hold the esoteric truths of life, and our purpose is to share our knowledge, to extend that understanding to new depths!"

"Sir...how do you know that you aren't deceiving yourselves?"

"How do I know that we are not just deceiving ourselves? Well, consider that concept from the perspective that the Truth is simply what we make of it. For example, if we see ourselves as slaves to our present conditions, then that is exactly what we become. But it is exactly in the present that we can achieve our greatest accomplishments by rising above these conditions, by transcending! But getting back to the purpose of the Order, it might be stated this way: Our concern is to continue the Order but always in a new fashion. Since our conception, our objective has been to blend in with the other orders and religions, to make what is theirs ours! The truths that we are in possession of have made us masters over the entire human race..."

"Sir...if you would allow it, I could stay here and learn from you—I could be your protégé, you my mentor. I can feel that you are telling me the truth...."

"Son...if only you had been my natural-born son, I would have held you up, high above the highest cliff, and pronounced your existence to the four winds of the Earth and beyond! You would be a Master now—and in some ways, I already see that potential in you—but you cannot stop the natural course of your life...you can only transcend!"

"Sir...you don't understand! All my life, I've been seeking these answers—all my life, I've struggled without these ans—" _Click_

(Other side of tape)

_Victor_ : "Of course you want answers—that is what we are here for... But first, contemplate heavily upon the _questions_ , before you ask them—you'll find that 98% of the answers are already there, buried within that very intelligent head of yours... By the way, are you ready to deliver your thesis on Islam tomorrow?"

"Not totally, sir...I thought I was before I came here, but now, I am not so sure!"

"It's not a problem if you decide to postpone it, but I need to call them now and inform them not to fly out here...."

"Sir, on second thought, I believe that I am ready—quite ready!"

"Son, remember—if you fail, there will be no second chances."

"Sir, I have put a lot of time and effort into this project! I believe I am ready...."

"Very well, then."

_The butler, Bernard, knocks on the door before entering the room, and informs,_ "Masters, dinner has been prepared, and is now ready to be served."

"Thank you, Bernard. Are you ready to dine?"

"Yes, sir..." _Click._

(Tape-recorder on)

"Jeb, there is a particular reason I asked you to turn on your tape recorder. I'm about to tell you something that I want you to listen to over and over again, no matter how the test fares for you tomorrow—you must always believe in yourself, before the average person can or will... I, on the other hand, have complete confidence in you and your abilities, young man... That is all."

"Thank you, sir."

"The Elders will be here at noon tomorrow; breakfast is at nine o'clock. Go get a good night's sleep—you're going to need it..."

"Yes, sir. Oh, sir?"

"Yes, son?"

"Thanks!"

"You're welcome. Oh, yes...remember not to bring the tape recorder with you into the session tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Goodnight, Jeb!"

"Goodnight, sir..." _Click_

[5/13—Tape-recorded entry]

"Right now, I am sitting out in the hallway awaiting their decision.... My nerves are totally wracked—I was so nervous during my presentation with all those eyes on me—I think I failed! No, I shouldn't think like that—I need to be positive!

"The only thing that comforts me is the knowledge that Mr. White wasn't there, as a judge." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

_Victor_ : "While you were sitting out here this last hour, waiting for the Council's vote, one of your judges went to your room and laid a sash onto your bed."

_Me_ : "Are you going to escort me to my room, Mr. Plush?"

"If you'd like, young man."

"Yes, I would...." _Click_

(Tape recorder on)

"Mr. Plush—there is a white sash on my bed! What does that mean? Does that mean that I've passed?"

"Only the sash with the red sacred seal of the OSS upon it indicates that one is considered eligible for 'becoming.' I'm afraid that I see no such seal here...."

"Oh my God—I've failed!"

"You shouldn't think of it that way, son; you should just look at all of this as a big learning lesson and move on!"

"But I just can't believe that I failed! When I sat out there, waiting for you, I was a nervous wreck, thinking that I failed. But as the two of us walked back here to the bedroom, I felt my confidence blooming, and I was sure that I had passed...until now!"

_Victor, sympathetic_ : "Good luck, young man...."

_Me, sad_ : "I'll be out of here in an hour, sir...."

"Nonsense! You've had a very hard day! At least stay here for the night before you return home. Though I wasn't one of the judges, I thoroughly enjoyed your presentation!"

"No.... Wait a second! There's something underneath this sash...."

_Victor's voice, approaching_ : "Congratulations, Jeb!"

_Me, aghast_ : "Thank you so much, Teacher!"

"Son, you shall become great within this Order! Your initiation will be performed next month, on the twenty-first of June—the Summer Solstice—are you ready?"

"Yes, sir, I am!"

"Son, in just a moment, I want you to turn off the tape recorder. The information that I am about to tell you relates directly to the Order, and is expressly forbidden to be communicated, other than orally, from Master to Seeker. So please turn it off now." _Click_

[5/16—Tape-recorded entry]

"I am on my way home. Victor and I talked about a great many things—I wasn't allowed to record any of the remaining conversations we had, but I understand the reasons why—the Order seems to be entirely legitimate. I can't wait to tell Bryan! When I get back to Illinois, I'll call him up and inform him of my success...yeeeehoooo!" _Click_

[Magickal Journal—5/21]

I have just performed another meditation session, and I had another vision—this time, I was at Lenny's. Jared, Crystal, and the rest of the coven walked in, but trailing them were hordes of demonic creatures....

As soon as they spotted me, they _all_ surrounded my table and glared at me, but I didn't feel uncomfortable in the least. The _Serpent's Prayer_ works wonders.

Jared spoke first, spitting out, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Calmly, I said, "I came to retrieve the book that you borrowed...so, give it to me!"

"Oh, yeah? What book would that be?" The demons responded to the anger that flared in his voice and attempted to whisper miserable nothings into my ear.

Laughing, I retorted, " _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_!"

A male member of the coven yelled, "Nobody challenges Magnium that way and lives!" The hostility in the air exploded and all of them—coven and demons—leaped at me to finish the job. However, they were suddenly blindsided by a host of angels that mysteriously appeared!

The angels bore glowing yellow swords, and they began to hack away at the demons, who were now trying to escape in fear! The trails from the swords left the air awash in bright yellows, oranges, and reds—the enemies both human and spiritual were completely blinded and were helpless against this overwhelming foe!

Aided by the surprise attack of the angels, I was easily able to grab the book from Jared's backpack and calmly walk out the door! It was after I walked out the door that I suddenly woke up...but I'm not so sure that this was just a random dream. Maybe I'll indulge my taste for diner food and head over there tomorrow night after work...?

## Chapter X

Political Decisions

[Personal Journal—5/24]

The presidential elections are going to be here in November! So far, the main candidates are Mr. Green, Jr. (Republican); Mr. Dale (Democrat); Mr. Tremper (Libertarian); Mrs. Collins (Republican); and Mr. Doyle (Green). Hundreds of millions of dollars are probably being spent campaigning—money that could be better spent helping the homeless, among others, but that's just my opinion! So far, the choices are uninspiring, but I'd bet money that Mr. Green, Jr. will win.

[Magickal Journal—5/24]

Oh my God! Seeing is truly believing! Not even five minutes ago, I was just watching TV, and I saw that dream I had a month or so ago—this time as actual footage on channel six news! I watched again as Palestinians threw rocks at Israeli jeeps and soldiers at a checkpoint near West Gaza, and then I watched as the soldiers fired their assault rifles in retaliation, killing a half-dozen Palestinians. Sirens filled the air, and as I heard them, goose bumps ran up and down my body! I wish I had had a blank VHS tape to record upon.

Yup! That dream was very real—a prophetic vision, just like how I was able to get _Magick: TFF_ back! What does it mean? Is the end of the world coming? Or are we just in a time of transition? Perhaps humankind has been doomed from the first conception of intelligence.

[Personal Journal—5/25]

There are many things that I have learned about Islam that I did not put into my report, including perspectives from Judaism and Christianity—I think it's time that I write about them! All three of the major monotheistic religions in the world have historically fought over the same turf. This war is not a new one and has always been fought with a "command-and-conquer" attitude—but why?

Why can't the believers of these mainstream religions behave in a more ethical and humanistic manner toward each other? So the names of God are different from one religion to the next—but are not all three dealing with the main quality of God, the quality of Love?

As I understand it, the Jews claim that the land of Israel, including the holy city of Jerusalem, was given to them by God through their forefather Moses...and his forefather before him, Abraham...and his forefather before him, Noah...and his forefather before him, Adam!

Meanwhile, the Muslims of Palestine claim that the city of Jerusalem is holy to them as well! For was it not Mohammed who walked within that beloved city and spread his message? They claim that this is their land, given to them by Allah! After all, Mohammed's forefather was Ishmael—the elder brother of Isaac and Jacob—the son of Abraham, whose lineage traces back to his forefather before him, Noah...and all the way back to Adam as well!

Finally, the Christians claim that the city of Jerusalem is sacred to them as well—for it was Jesus who walked the very streets, spreading his message of brotherly-and-sisterly peace. They feel that it is their land, passed down to the true followers of Christ, otherwise known as Christians. Jesus Christ's forefathers were Solomon, the son of David...his forefather being Moses...his forefather being Abraham...and, of course, this takes us all the way back to Adam again!

In my studies, I have learned that the Land of Canaan, the oldest name attributed to the land of Palestine, was inhabited by these four groups, a point on which renowned historians agree: the Ammonites (Amen), the Canaanites (supposedly the descendants of Cain, the brother of Abel), the Yabousians (not sure who they were), and the Phoenicians (Ba'al)! These four groups are all sub-categories of the Canaanites, who had migrated to Palestine during the third millennium B.C.

The Jews claim that Abraham was Jewish, and so do the Christians, but the Muslims claim that Abraham was not Jewish, but actually Muslim.... Regardless of his religion, when Abraham and his nephew, Lot, arrived in Canaan (around 1900 B.C.), they found it to be inhabited. Several hundreds of years prior to their arrival, more than two hundred towns had been built, including Jerusalem, Jericho, and Bethlehem.

After the time of Abraham, later on, the Jews fell in "ill with Jehovah" for worshipping the Canaanite gods. For their punishment, they were cast out of their land, becoming slaves to the Egyptians. During their stay outside of the land given to them by their forefathers, others came to inhabit the land, primarily the Canaanites, yet again.

Moses (in the second half of the thirteenth century, B.C.) brought the Jews back to their holy land of Israel, but because of his sins was forbidden into the "land of milk and honey...." Aaron, his brother, took charge and led them into the land of Israel. Their spies reported the discovery of invaders—the Canaanites had taken over their land! They (the Israelites) conquered these "savages" in the name of Jehovah and reclaimed their territory.

To make a very, very long story short, I will summarize by saying that, since the beginning of time, many groups have laid claim to this mysterious Holy Land, but what has been the method used in every case? War! War is the tool they used.

Christianity has been guilty of this method as well. Proof can be found by careful examination of history. Examine the crusades and just exactly whom they fought against—the answer is the Muslims—not once, or twice, or even three times, but eight different expeditions to reclaim the Holy Land from the "barbarians!"

The way I see it, it wasn't until 1492, when Christopher Columbus set sail to discover America, that the Christians turned their attention from the Holy Land toward the New World, leaving their territory to the Muslims—until the year 1949, when the nation of Israel was "reborn," in compensation for the tyranny imposed upon their people by the Nazis before and during World War II. As a result, the nation of Palestine lost much of its territory, including their Holy City, Jerusalem.

Cannot that which is holy be shared?

[Personal Journal—5/26]

I have received confirmation of my thoughts from a special news feature that I saw on TV this morning.... I recorded the broadcast and am now typing it down for posterity:

[["This is Channel Seven News Reporter Jerry Heels, live in a Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon. Since the reconstitution of Israeli territory, this camp and many others have housed refugees who have nowhere to go and nowhere to call home, as they have been effectively evicted by Israeli occupation of their former land. There are fifteen other such camps in existence in Lebanon, and it is estimated that there are at least 400,000 such refugees, comprising an estimated thirteen percent of the Lebanese population."]]

For the last couple of days, I have been dwelling constantly on my vision, and I am certain now that the Israelis and Palestinians are fighting over territory. The question is: What can I do about it?

[Magickal Journal—6/5]

Oh my God—I have had the most incredible experience ever! Words fail me now at the wonder that my eyes were allowed to witness!

A little less than an hour ago, I decided to perform a meditation session. I wore my ceremonial robes within the circle that I have taped to the floor in my ritual room. At first, my mind saw nothing but darkness. After about twenty minutes of remaining perfectly still in the lotus position, a bright light penetrated my eyelids. When I opened them, I was no longer in my ceremonial room but sitting on a high cliff. The sun had begun to rise in the east, over the edge of the vast sea that lay yonder, and I could feel my robes flapping from the intense wind. Seagulls flew overhead while the waves crashed into the rocky beach below—but the scene was incomplete and seemed like an illusion, as I could hear nothing. Realizing that it must be only a dream, I stood up and fearlessly leaped off the cliff face into the depths of the colorful waters far below!

At first, I fell straight down at an alarming rate—and then something strange happened, as the gravitational force that pulled me down seemed to diminish and then disappear altogether; about fifteen feet above the rocky base, I came to a complete stop and commenced to float! However, I still spun around in erratic circles and couldn't control a thing—a very awkward feeling!

A few moments later, a newfound "intelligence" guided me in my thoughts, teaching me how to fly! I learned that, by going with the flow of nature and the wind and not against them, such acts as flying could become not only controlled but second nature. And once my mind had relaxed and control had become established, my ears popped and I could suddenly hear the seagulls as they flew around me, squawking in surprise! I could also hear the sounds of the waves crashing below, as well as the wind whistling around my ears. A buzzing sound started from somewhere nearby, which noise slowly began to crescendo; surprise hit me again as I saw torrents of electricity sizzle in and out of my body—it felt wonderful!

Finally, another sound reached my ears—the sound of thunder clapping far away. As my eyes scanned in the direction of the thunder, my acuity of vision then dramatically increased, and I could see a tempestuous storm far off in the distance! I could see lightning bolts drop from the clouds, housing a violent hurricane. Curious about the nature of the storm, I willed myself to fly toward it, and within moments, I reached the edge of the storm but did not enter.

Closing my eyes, I attempted to feel the power that lay within this magnificent beast of nature. I could hear the individual components of the thunder very clearly—the noise erupted from one end of the sky and rolled across to the other, as if the gods were bowling just above the clouds! Seconds later, the storm entered my domain, and I could taste the refreshingly cold rain water hitting my face.

Seconds later, the storm entered my domain, and I could taste the refreshingly cold rainwater that ran down my face and into my open mouth. Despite the turbulent winds that quickly picked up, and the ever-harder slapping of the water against my body, I forced opened my eyes and proceeded to fly further into the tempest, fearlessly toward the eye of the storm! I wanted to experience the destructive power of the water and air, together!

Excited, I only flew faster, past the lightning bolts and increasingly loud thunderclaps; and as the storm became more violent, I knew that I was getting closer to my ultimate destination—the eye of the storm! The rain pummeled my body, and I could feel the stinging pain from the impact! The wind, with speeds faster than two hundred miles an hour, began to blow me off course—I lost control and was thrust around erratically! I wondered if I was about to die.

As that particular thought crossed my mind, a lightning bolt shot right past, only a few feet away! The residual energy slammed into my body, and I remember feeling a searing pain as the energy ripped my body apart. The power surged through me, and in a flash of light, I blacked out....

After I regained consciousness, I slowly opened my eyes and examined myself, and then my surroundings. Gone were the robes and the flesh that once lay underneath; instead, I had been transformed into a being of pure light! No longer were there any imperfections upon me, and I wondered if I might now be a god! I continued to be pelted, but neither the winds nor the rain had any effect on me anymore—I was perfectly steady against this destructive force of nature! Turning and flying in a different direction, I knew that I was now the master over this beast....

Within minutes, I could see what looked like a clearing in the clouds—I knew that it had to be the very eye itself! As though warning me about what lay ahead, a lightning bolt slammed directly into my body—but again, I found myself not destroyed but only elevated to an even higher level of power! Not only was I able to access the eye of the storm, but I felt now that I was being invited in!

Continuing forward, I breathed deeply in pure exultation! As I entered into the eye itself, the rain completely ceased, and I could see gray clouds spinning in chaotic fashion around me, with lightning bolts shooting all around! A deep rumbling surrounded me, and I felt the vibrations to be soothing. I looked up through the swirling clouds and saw the purest blue sky...it was absolutely beautiful!

Willing myself to stay within the center of the eye, I gazed at my surroundings, thoroughly enjoying this spectacle of nature, and then looked back up to find that my vision ranged beyond the blue sky into the pitch-black realm of space itself! Willing myself upward, I flew out of the storm and into space! Countless stars flew past me as I left not only our solar system, yet our galaxy....

Several minutes later, after passing many other extraordinarily-beautiful galaxies, I became mesmerized by the brightness of a particular galaxy which semi-resembled our own, except for the fact that is was more ovular-shaped than spherical.... It was this galaxy that I felt drawn to, and thus entered. Soon enough, I entered a particular solar system, which was composed of a singular planet—a blue-green planet—in orbit around a star.... No moon was in sight.

As I drew closer to the planet, I could make out several large landmasses that were shaped completely different from our own continents. Getting closer, I could make out snowcaps on top of mountains, lush green jungles, tan deserts, and many interspersed areas of blue, representing oceans, lakes, rivers, and streams.

Flying closer still, I entered into the planet's atmosphere where night was beginning to take over, and flew toward one of several large clusters of lights, far below. These lights shone at the edge of the pentagon-shaped continent, which radiance spilled out over the interface of its neighboring dark ocean. As I got closer to the lights, I realized that they represented a city, but I could see no roads leading to or from it; there seemed to be no neighboring towns. The city itself appeared to be made out of tubular glass structures that appeared to reach for the heavens!

I continued forward into the city and was shocked to find that there were no airports, no electrical towers, no cars; instead, I could see illuminated orbs of different sizes—some flying around and through orb-shaped buildings and other land masses, some just floating in air—but the whole city was illuminated by these flying orbs!

And as I came nearer to the ground, I could see people of all different colors everywhere—people just like me, but with different clothes, more like the robes of the ancient Greeks. The people were engaged in all the usual activities—walking, chatting, reading, eating, sleeping, drinking—but there was no evidence of strife whatsoever! There appeared to be no anger or hostility in any of them, and I could only sense feelings of happiness! I was rather surprised to see a race of human beings seemingly in a perfect state of peace with one another!

Perhaps not coincidentally, there was no mechanical or industrial technology to be found, at least in our current understanding of the word, and I wondered exactly how they traveled.

Just then, my question was answered. Several of the people transformed themselves into the previously described orbs and took off! After landing upon the ground and looking around, I noticed that no one paid the slightest bit of attention to me—I wondered if I was invisible.

As in confirmation of my thoughts, a native walked right through me as if I were a ghost, completely unaware of my presence. With the intermingling of his energy with mine, a disruption occurred, and I was suddenly transported back to reality. Hence, I am now reporting the experience.... Although the entire dream was amazing, the most puzzling feature is that, during the journey back, I heard that name whispered again, though only once—"Azazel!"

[Daily Work Journal—6/12]

Good news! Telexia has officially accepted my "Seven Easy Steps to Shipping Success" and will be issuing it to all shipping managers throughout our corporation! In gratitude, they are offering me a nice little raise—to $37,296 a year! In addition, they are giving me a diploma for "Outstanding Initiatives" at the next awards ceremony!

Well, I've got some work to do.

[[Recollections from Death Row—You will find in the following passages a different form of transcription than that which I have used up until this point. At this point, I started to record the events on tape as they transpired and then typed them into my computer journals. Once transferred, I would add my post-thoughts and feelings on the events in parentheses, italicized...I did this in order to give more context to the conversations that were recorded on tape.]]

[Magickal Journal—6/22]

I have taken the last two nights off from work, using up some vacation time for this most important ritual! I have recorded the important points of last night's event for posterity:

(Tape recorder on)

_Waiting at the Bolke Estate, I whisper_ : "June twenty-first, 11:05 P.M. I have just put on my ceremonial robes, and I am ready and waiting...for in one hour and five minutes, I will be elevated from a Seeker to a Neophyte of the Order of the Secret Serpent!" _The sound of knocking at my door and then me running to the head of the bed._ "Here you go..."

_After placing the tape recorder under the pillow, still in record mode, I call out_ , "Come in!" _The door opens, and in walks Admiral Bill Scarlet (false name for purpose of protecting confidentiality). He's an older gentleman in his early fifties, now wearing his own ceremonial robes_.

"Greetings there, young Seeker! How are you this evening?"

"Very well, sir! How are you?"

"Couldn't be better! So, tell me about your trip, Jeb! Were there any—heh, heh—any cute girls on board your flight?"

"Well, actually, sir, the hostess was quite allured by my conversational ability!"

"What do you mean?" _Bill appears a little startled._

"We had a nice discussion, although short, about my book that's going to be published soon, sir!"

"What book would that be, young Seeker?"

"It's called 'The Dragon's Realm!' It's a fictional fantasy book.... Have you ever read any Fantasy Writers books, sir?" _I notice that Bill has walked to within two feet of me with a black box in his hands_.

"No, I haven't.... Why, I had no idea.... When it does get published, would you do me the honor of autographing a copy for me?"

"You like those types of books, sir?" _I'm genuinely surprised by his interest._

"Absolutely, Jeb! I pride myself on the autographs I have already collected from renowned authors throughout the world!"

"Wow!" _Bill's smile grows thin and then disappears, as his expression turns serious._

"Now is the time that we must get serious, as our time grows short. My purpose in coming to you before your official initiation into the Order is actually to try to dissuade you from 'becoming.' Since the conception of our most holy Order, you see, we have been labeled and attacked by the whole of society—to the Christians, we are the Antichrist; to the Jews, we are of the unclean and the heathen; and to the Conspiracy Theorists, we are the New World Order. They all claim that we seek to enslave the whole of humanity with our rules as the basic guidelines for living! Now that you know this, you may leave the room and know that your life is in no danger—if, of course, that is your will."

"My will...is to stay and listen more to your words before I make any commitment either way...." _I did feel some level of fear at the thought of undergoing an initiation of such magnitude!_

"Very well, then. Let me continue.... To a certain extent, our attackers are correct—but not for the reasons that they think! Let me explain briefly. To begin with the Christians, they are the makers of their own self-fulfilling prophecy. From the seeds of their own minds, their Antichrist will arise, not from ours! We have no problems or disputes with Jesus Christ's message; in fact, this is a concept that we endorse, the concept of a universal brotherhood with a 'love one another _as_ I have love you' attitude!

"Like the Christians, the Jews and the Muslims feel that we have not fully surrendered ourselves unto Jehovah or Allah, respectively, and that we in fact challenge them! But the truth is that, from the Jews, we have acquired the knowledge of the Tree of Life, the very system of grades used by our Order for Attainment into the Supernal Triad. And from the Muslims we have acquired the knowledge of alchemy, or the study of the values of either minerals or chemical compositions. And from the Hermetics and Gnostics, we have cultivated an acceptance toward those of other cultures. Was it not requested of you to choose a religion of your own choice and to eventually understand the values of that faith for your own personal growth? Was there any religion that was forbidden for you to study?"

"To answer your first question first, yes, sir.... I chose Islam as my topic, not knowing a thing about it initially; and no, sir, there was no religion forbidden to me."

"Correct! Though we study the principles of all faiths, our goal is to unify the entire human race for the purpose of fulfilling the evolutionary process, not for religious preference! Our greatest concern is to continue the Order as passed down to us from our forefathers but always with new fashions in mind, as this is the esoteric meaning of evolution! We seek to blend with the other orders and religions and, in time, to make what is theirs ours! The truth that we hold is what makes us the masters of the entire human race, but we like to define ourselves truly as Priests to the Almighty Creator of the Universe. Do you wish for me to continue? Are you understanding me completely, before I go on?"

"Yes, sir!"

"For the third time, I must remind you—now is the time for you to get out! If there is but one shred of doubt in your heart as to our validity, then you may leave! There will be no regrets, no dreadful curses imposed upon you—for, again, we want only those who want us first! Before I continue, I must ask, do you wish to 'become'? If so, answer me this—what is your will?"

"Sir...I will to 'become'!"

"Well said...well said.... One of our rules is that only after complete trust has been established, you may receive more information on the Order—for you see, you have thus far received only partial information about the Order, and many things have been left out intentionally in order to protect our secrets. Are you ready to accept this rule, to swear your trust into the Order?"

"Yes, sir! I am ready to swear my trust into the Order!"

"Very well.... Our final rule is that you may never speak about our Order to the profane and the ignorant! Since the beginning of time, the evil forces within mankind have tortured and murdered our members—therefore, our actions are to be confidential for our own protection! Do you understand this final rule, to never speak of the Order's existence?"

"Yes, sir! I understand never to speak to the profane and the ignorant about the existence of the Order!"

"Now, Seeker! Take this box, set it down upon the bed, and open it."

"Yes, sir!"

"From now on, you will address me as 'Master' when we are in Order functions...." _I set the ovular-shaped box down upon the bed and opened it to find a red inner liner, and within it, a black cloth_.

"Seeker, put on the blindfold!"

"Yes, Master!" _Bill helped me put on the blindfold_.

"Now, Seeker, know that when this blindfold is removed, your old self shall no longer exist, and you shall be reborn! Are you ready, Seeker Samson?"

"Yes, Master!" _Suddenly, I felt my hands guided to my back and then tied with a thick rope!_

"I am tying you up now to symbolize the bondage in which you currently reside—move it!"

"Yes, Master!" _I stammered as Bill pulled me out of the room like a slave_. _Click_

(End of tape)

That is the extent to which I can playback/describe my initiation. I will not show my magickal journal to anyone—in keeping with my oath—but never ever did I swear not to record the incidents for myself!

[Personal Journal—7/1]

Frank is throwing a party tonight—everybody at work was asking me if I was going to go. Last week I had decided not to, as I wouldn't even be leaving from work until 11:30 tonight; however, I've been swayed by all the excitement I sensed in everybody, at work—what the hell; if it sucks, I don't have to stay for very long, as I only live five minutes away!

I know what I'll do—I'll ask Bryan and Victoria if they want to come! Bryan will be heading to India in two weeks, and I won't see him again for at least a month—lucky S.O.B! Unfortunately, I don't get many chances to see him as it is! I wish I could go with him, but needed at work.

Victoria is still a mystery to me—I must admit that I have fallen in love with her. But I wonder if the feelings are mutual? Every time I throw a more-than-friendly look her way, nowadays, she seems to back away and get nervous! I wish I had the guts to tell her how I really feel, but I'm also afraid of rejection! Maybe I'll tell her tonight—yeah, right!?

[Daily Work Journal—7/1]

I have an hour and a half until I head home—I can hardly wait! Both Bryan and Victoria agreed to come to the party with me! They'll be here at work at 11:25 P.M. At least it'll give them a chance to see what I do around here!

[Magickal Journal—7/2]

Last night's party sucked! By the time we had arrived, the party was pretty much dead. The few that remained, besides us, cycled between the bedrooms and bathrooms, doing who-knows-what—we hung out in the living room alone, but had the opportunity to drink lots of bottled beers—someone had ever-so-graciously left behind a beer cooler that was stocked to the rim. The party didn't suck because we were primarily left alone—it sucked because of an event that took place about an hour or so after we had arrived!

With all of us pretty drunk, and with Vicky and Bryan sitting on the couch in the living room in front of me (I was standing), I first looked at Bryan in pride over what I was about to do. I walked over to Vicky and clasped my hands around hers—unfortunately, I did not record the conversation, but it went something like this:

"Victoria...Bryan...I have some exciting news for the both of you!"

"What would that be?" Bryan said, as he looked over at me and smiled.

Vicky smiled warmly, too, and asked, "Yes, Jeb, what is this news?"

"Actually, I have two bits of news to deliver. The first is that Telexia wants me to create a managerial program for all those who hold my position—the CEO himself offered the challenge to me—and it could mean a serious promotion!"

Both Bryan and Vicky immediately jumped off the couch and gave me warm hugs. They whispered congratulations into my ear, making me feel really good.

"The second...is actually for Victoria!" Vicky threw me a slightly odd look, but I didn't catch it at the time.

"What on earth is it, Jeb?" she finally asked. Bryan didn't say anything, only listened, his face betraying nothing but happiness. I released Bryan and took Vicky's hands into mine. "Victoria, there's something I've been wanting to tell you for awhile, but only now have the courage to say, through a poem I wrote for you long ago..."

I first closed my eyes, cleared my throat, and then recited the "Victoria" poem... Once finished, I opened my eyes and became rather shocked to see the stunned expressions that were imprinted upon their faces.

Bryan's voice reflected his face, as he asked, "You...are you in love with Vicky?"

Defensively, I answered, "Yeah—why?"

Vicky had a pained expression on her face, as if she was about to impart a painful secret to me; still, her hands clasped mine as she revealed, "Jeb...I think it's about time you know—Bryan and I are together! We love each other...but that doesn't mean that I don't love you! I do—I really do! But not in the same way that I love him."

I felt a lump forming in the back of my throat—I couldn't swallow this news.

Bryan grasped me gently by my shoulders and turned me to face him. "It all started the night you were sick, Jeb—we went out to Club Midnight, and things started happening from there.... We are deeply in love with each other...and she—she's going with me to India! Can you please accept this?"

I began to feel flushed, as if my temperature was rising rapidly. Bryan and Vicky tried to reach out to console me, and then I recognized that flushed feeling for what it was—rage was beginning to rise and then overflow from within! I suddenly stopped breathing and simply stood there, unmoving.

I looked at my two traitorous "friends" with what must have been venomous rage upon my face.

"%$#@ all this!" I hissed, and pushed them off me, whirling toward the front door.

"Wait...Jeb!" Both Bryan and Vicky tried to grab me, without success. I stormed through the door and off to my Z-Ster.

No longer was I human in any way—the beast had arisen, and all I could see was red! All I could feel was fury! All I could smell was brimstone! All I could taste were ashes! After I got into my Z-Ster and sped off, the tires spitting gravel from the road surface, I began to yell, "Bryan can have any girl in the world, with his wonderful looks and debonair personality! Why did he have to choose this one—the girl that I've been in love with since I first met her? I could have built her an empire! Why couldn't she have foreseen that? Couldn't she feel the love that I've had for her all along?"

After a moment of silence, I screamed, "I don't need love from anyone—because it only gets thrown back at me in the end. Women are truly the downfall of men!"

I'm not sure what time I got home, but I do remember sitting in the Z-Ster for an unknown amount of time with the rain beating down on my windshield. While I sat there sobbing, I recalled the strange expression on Frank's face as I left his house that night.

It was the way he had looked at me—he looked like he had been crying or something, from the looks of his red, swollen eyes and flushed cheeks. But I could swear that I also saw fear in those eyes, like he had seen a ghost or something. Whatever...I have my own problems to contend with! Frank's fears are not my problem...

Vicky and Bryan are my problem—or should I say, _were_ my problem? I'm just not going to deal with them anymore...I'll pay Bryan back for the computer, the car, and the condo and move on somehow! After all, my book is nearing completion, and when I hit it big, I can leave this %$#@ place for good! There's way more to life than McCurrn, Illinois, I know it!

Thoughts like these passed through my head, and an unknown amount of time later, I passed out in the Z-Ster, only to wake up with a stiff body and a major headache about an hour later.

I walked in the door, still stiff-legged, checked my answering machine, and found that I had two calls from—guess who—Vicky and Bryan. The first call was from Vicky at 2:14 A.M. Her message was this: "Jeb...are you there? We need to talk...give me a call, okay? You know my phone number...bye."

The other phone call was from Bryan. He called at 3:00 A.M., and his message was this: "Hey, bro...this is Bryan...are you there? Pick up, Jeb...please pick up...damnit, Jeb, I know you're there! Call me...bye...."

Screw the lot of them! I only need myself now. I must completely focus on the principles of success—and not until I have achieved success to my satisfaction, and on my own terms, will I search for true love again!

[Daily Work Journal—7/3]

Upon my arrival into work today, two detectives were waiting inside my cubicle to question me in regards to Frank's party. One had a bulging belly and the other was lanky and thin. It was fortunate that I had my tape recorder sitting in my suit jacket...I also had my pack of cigarettes in the same pocket, and while pulling a cigarette out of the pocket, I secretly hit play on the tape recorder.... Here's the conversation:

_Me_ : "Greetings, gentlemen...what can I help you with?"

_Lanky detective_ : "Hi...my name is Detective Stiles, and this is my partner, Detective Spare..." _The lanky detective appeared to have a friendly disposition_.

_Me_ : "Nice to meet you.... I'm sure this isn't a social call, so what can I help you gentlemen with?"

_Detective Stiles_ : "We're here because we heard that you were at Frank Esposito's party on Friday night."

_Detective Spare_ : "We have some questions for you, if you don't mind...."

_Me_ : "No problem...what would you like to know?"

_Stiles_ : "What time did you arrive at the party last Saturday night, Mr. Maruso?"

_Me_ : "I would say about 12:15 in the morning, after I had finished my shift here at work...why?"

_Spare_ : "Hmmm...and what time, approximately, would you say that you left the party?" _Though his voice was completely monotone, I began to feel a little uncomfortable_.

_Me_ : "About 1:30 in the morning....I didn't stay there very long, because by the time I had arrived, everyone was already trashed. I had brought my two friends with me...."

_Spare_ : "Which two friends did you bring?"

_Me_ : "Bryan White and Vicky Versuvio...why?"

Stiles: "Could you give me their addresses and phone numbers, Mr. Maruso?" _Before my curiosity turned to frustration, I chanted the Serpent's Prayer while taking a deep breath, and in one second, I felt like I was 100% back in control_.

_Me_ : "Absolutely, detectives...and while I'm writing down their phone numbers and addresses for you, would you do me the honor of expounding on your reasons for visiting me here today?"

_Spare_ : "Mr. Maruso, a murder occurred early that morning—Frank's current lover, Larry Hawks, was found dead! Were you aware of that?" _I was shocked, but I had no idea who Larry was, as I had never met him before_.

"Oh, poor Frank.... Frank is a really good guy! I've heard awesome reports of Frank from his manager, Lisa—I've been trying to get him on my team here at work, but Lisa refuses to transfer him.... As for Larry, I haven't ever met him or even heard of the guy—but how was Larry murdered?"

_Spare_ : "He was found face down in the pool at about 3:23 A.M. From the coroner's examination, the murder had to have occurred just before 3:00 A.M... Did you happen to see anything, or anybody, that seemed suspicious or out of the norm?"

_Me_ : "No, sir.... Everybody there seemed to be having a good time. I don't recall seeing anyone suspicious or dangerous!" _I finished writing down Bryan and Vicky's phone numbers and addresses_.

_Spare_ : "If you think of anything that you might have forgotten to tell us, Mr. Maruso, you can give us a call. If we're not there, just leave us a message and we'll get a hold of you!"

_Me_ : "Thank you, Detective Stiles and Detective Spare...here's my card." _Detective Spare then walked out of my cubicle. Detective Stiles stayed for a moment_.

_Stiles_ : "Thank you very much, Mr. Maruso. My partner...he's not the friendliest guy in the world, but I am—please call if you find out anything...." _He extended his hand and I shook it—for a moment, I felt a strange connection to this man, as if he were probing my mind_.

_Me_ : "Sure, you bet."

_Stiles_ : "Have a nice day, Mr. Maruso." _He then turned and walked out of my cubicle and down the hall. Click_

[Personal Journal—7/8]

The rough draft of "The Dragon's Realm" has finally been completed! I have 364 pages total. Even though my work is almost finished, work is just beginning for others! Tracy Varasquez, from work, has graciously volunteered to proofread and edit my manuscript—actually, she was nearly begging for it on her hands and knees! She has an associate's degree in English, which was her minor in college. Her major was accounting. Though she's said she's never proofread anybody's stories before, she'd be honored to give it a shot, and even better, do it for no charge! Of course, when I make some money off this book, I will pay her for services rendered.

Although it might be uncomfortable, I'm going to ask Bryan to help me as well—we haven't spoken to or seen each other since that dreadful night, but I'm going to need him for his legal expertise. I mean, I am totally excited about this book, but there are companies out there that might try to cheat me out of my well-deserved profits. To maximize my chances of success, I will take the manuscript personally to each and every publishing company, and if one doesn't like it, I will move on to the next, with my materials in hand!

As for Bryan and Vicky, let them have each other! Hell, I'm happy for them now. I know I'll be able to have any chick or any car or any thing that I could possible want if my book becomes a best-seller; then I will be able to transcend in all areas of my life, including love.

[Daily Personal Journal—7/9]

First order of business: Tracy came by an hour ago and picked up my manuscript.

Second order of business: Twenty minutes ago, I went online and contacted Fantasy Writers Guild to gain permission to use pre-existing ideas from their other books—I'm crossing my fingers and hoping that they will grant my request!

Third order of business, which I have yet to do: Go shopping—and guess who will be accompanying me? Bryan! I have already explained my position, with respect to his relations with Vicky, and he was very forgiving of my outburst and very enthusiastic about helping me with my book. He'll be over about three o' clock, and tonight, all three of us are going out to celebrate my book!

I have to go—someone's ringing my doorbell!

[Personal Journal—7/16]

I have only one thing to report—the request from Fantasy Writers Guild has officially been approved!

[Magickal Journal—7/18]

I just looked up the word "Azazel" on the Internet, and I was surprised at how many entries there were on the Web regarding this entity! Why, there was even a movie about it called _Fallen Angel_. I think I'll rent it tonight!

I still wonder about his message to me—I mean, I don't wish to kill anyone! I haven't heard anything about exactly _whom_ I am supposed to kill—in fact, I haven't heard anything!

Okay, here are the characteristics of this angel (Azazel, from the Bible): Once a year, on the day of Yom Kippur, two goats and one bull were brought forth unto the Holy of Holies. It was on this day, and this day alone, that the High Priest was able to see the "back of God and live." It was on this day that the High Priest would utter the "Ineffable Name" of God three times, asking for pardon for the sins of Israel. He would enter the temple three times, performing the ceremony passed down to him by his forefathers, back to Moses.

The bull was sacrificed first to purge the shrine from defilement. The goats were chosen by lot and specially marked. The goat marked "La Adonai—To the Lord" was sacrificed immediately, while the other, named "La Azazel—To Azazel," was released into the wilderness, carrying with it the sins of Israel, with a white sash tied around its head. There was an identical sash within the Temple; it was said that if the sins were pardoned, when the blood of the goat spilt upon the white sash from its fall down a cliff, so would the sash in the Temple turn red!

As is written in Leviticus 16:20-22, "The goat shall carry on it all their iniquities to an inaccessible region...."

Thus, Azazel is known as the "scapegoat of Israel"! Nothing else in the Bible directly identifies this Azazel, but I read another section (from the same article) that the Israelis used to push the goat over the edge of the cliff to ensure that it didn't live! It also stated that the Israelis equated Azazel with Satan.

Okay, I definitely wouldn't ever kill anyone, especially not for Satan! I wonder if I am reading the whole truth...time to take a little break!

[Magickal Journal—7/18]

Okay.... Another interesting website mentioned that Azazel was equated to the Greek God Prometheus! According to this site, "This Prometheus is responsible for stealing Zeus's fire from the sun and giving it to humankind. Zeus became enraged and chained Prometheus to a rock in the Caucasus as punishment. The gift of fire allowed humankind to forge weapons and tools, thus giving them an advantage over animals." Later on, the article states that this Greek theogony shares striking similarities with the "Watcher" story.

The "Watchers" originate in the Book of Enoch, an epic tale of the "Beginning of Earth to the End." In the Bible, Enoch is famous for his communications with God.

In the Book of Enoch, chapter six, it reads:

[[And it came to pass when the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of the heaven, saw and lusted after them, and said to one another: "Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children."

And Semjaza, who was their leader, said unto them: "I fear ye will not indeed agree to do this deed, and I alone shall have to pay the penalty of a great sin."

And they all answered him and said: "Let us all swear an oath, and all bind ourselves by mutual imprecations not to abandon this plan but to do this thing."

Then swore they all together and bound themselves by mutual imprecations upon it. And they were in all two hundred; who descended in the days of Jared on the summit of Mount Hermon, and they called it Mount Hermon, because they had sworn and bound themselves by mutual imprecations upon it. And these are the names of their leaders: Samlazaz (Samael-Azazel) their leader, Araklba, Rameel, Kokablel, Tamlel, Ramlel, Danel, Ezeqeel, Baraqijal, Asael, Armoros, Batarel, Ananel, Zaqiel, Samsapeel, Satarel, Turel, Jomjael, Sariel. These are their chiefs of tens.]]

[Chapter seven states:

[[And all the others together with them took unto themselves wives, and each chose for himself one, and they began to go in unto them and to defile themselves with them, and they taught them charms and enchantments, and the cutting of roots, and made them acquainted with plants.

And they became pregnant, and they bore great giants...who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind. And they began to sin against birds, and beasts, and reptiles, and fish, and to devour one another's flesh, and drink the blood.

Then the earth laid accusation against the 'The Lawless Ones.']]

[Chapter eight states:

[[And Azazel taught men to make swords, and knives, and shields, and breastplates, and made known to them the metals of the earth and the art of working them, and bracelets, and ornaments, and the use of antimony, and the beautifying of the eyelids, and all kinds of costly stones, and all colouring tinctures.

And there arose much godlessness, and they committed fornication, and they were led astray and became corrupt in all their ways. Semjaza taught enchantments, and root-cuttings, Armaros taught the resolving of enchantments, Baraqijal taught astrology, Kokabel the constellations, Ezeqeel the knowledge of the clouds, Araquiel the signs of the earth, Shamsiel the signs of the sun, and Sariel the course of the moon. And as men perished, they cried, and their cry went up to heaven.]]

This thing is pretty long, so I shall summarize the rest: The archangels Michael, Uriel, Raphael, and Gabriel looked down from heaven and saw the lawlessness. They called upon the God Most High for his favor, and they informed God about the dealings of Azazel and his angels, and they pleaded with God to deal with these violators of that which is holy! In response, God declared to the angels:

[["Go to Noah and tell him in my name, 'Hide thyself!' and reveal to him the end that is approaching: that the whole earth will be destroyed, and a deluge is about to come upon the whole earth and will destroy all that is on it. And now instruct him that he may escape and his seed may be preserved for all the generations of the world."

And then the God Most High declared to the angels: "Bind Azazel hand and foot, and cast him into the darkness; and make an opening in the desert, which is in Dudael, and cast him therein. And place upon him rough and jagged rocks, and cover him in darkness, and let him abide there forever, and cover his face that he may not see light. And on the day of the great judgment he shall be cast into fire. And heal the earth which the angels have corrupted, and proclaim the healing of the earth, that they may heal the plague, and that all the children of men may not perish through all the secret things that the Watchers have disclosed and have taught their sons. And the whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin."

Pretty freaky stuff, especially since the "angel" who visited me claimed to be Azazel! Another Web site contains "The Doctrine of Esotericism," by Tiberius Cromwell. He states, in a footnote, "All animals that are listed as sacred in the Bible actually contain esoteric components which really make it 'sacred'; for example: the goat named as Azazel means—the God of Victory!

As Shalti Repses, a mystical scholar, confirms: 'The mysterious nature of Azazel cannot be comprehended until the three and thirty years mark; but thereupon, thou wilt also learn the mystery of God's name, for the similarities listed within the Scriptures confirm this. Thou canst also learn there the entire mystery by allusion, from whence knowledge begins and wisdom ends.'

This is some trippy stuff.... So will the real Azazel please stand up?

[Daily Work Journal—7/31]

Exciting news! Almost a month ago, I was asked by our CEO to construct a leadership training course for Telexia. The first week in my project consisted of procuring all previously published general manager materials from Telexia via our Web site. During the second week, I edited and summarized the huge stack of papers and was able to produce a rough draft, with about 480 pages—not bad, but I felt that, with some more editing, I could make it better!

Just before the end of the third week, I was able to condense the materials into 394 pages; several days ago, or by the beginning of the fifth week, I had finally gotten down to a mere 257 pages—not bad, in my opinion! Since then, I have been adding my own footnotes and checking for fluidity. From my writing and from tasks at work, I've learned that in order to make any project successful, it must be smooth, like water; it must be adaptable and receptive to change; it must also be comprehensible to the masses. I figure I'll be done by the end of the week and ready to turn it in by next Monday. The name of my leadership program shall be called "The Twenty-first-Century Manager."

Speaking of my writing, I'm glad that Tracy and I have become great friends—we've had all types of discussions, including life issues and the difficulties that we've both been exposed to during our youth. It was horrible, but I could kind of relate to just about everything negative she said! Her parents had never been rich—but were great and loving to Tracy.

That is, until the night her parents got mixed up with the wrong group of friends! One night at a party at one of their new friend's house, in which Tracy was being babysat by a neighbor teenaged girl, her parents both got a little too drunk at that party, from eating too many jello-shots filled with alcohol, which clouded their judgment. And another of their friends brought them into a back room of the house, and offered them each a line of cocaine. They sniffed!

From that first line, which line both parents loved, they became instant cokeheads! Their lives were forever changed...and ruined. They did not get back home until five the next morning. And the next weekend, they were at it again...sniffing more cocaine.

Only a year later, both parents got busted for selling an eight ball of cocaine to an undercover officer in their own house, in which Tracy was in her bedroom playing dolls. Thus was she put in a foster home for the rest of her childhood...as her parents were sentenced to fifteen years each...fifteen years! Wooow.

Despite all that negativity, she did something positive, got two college degrees, and works as a tax accountant for a multi-billion dollar telecommunications business. Yeah, she's doing great for herself!

Oh, regarding her work on my book, she has been giving me great suggestions to help make it read all that much better, via her side-page comments. Really she has been doing an outstanding job—all the mistakes that I have made, she has found, and all the pieces that were missing, she was able to find and put together—I don't think that _The Dragon's Realm_ would be as good as it is without her! Time to make my rounds.

[Daily Work Journal—8/9]

In a half-hour, I will be going to lunch with Mr. Towers! As I am writing this, there is a big smile on my face—success is heading my way! To be honest, he might simply thank me for my attempts and say, "Nice try," so I shall remain humble! I have to consider all possibilities, don't I? On the other hand, he might accept it and offer me a promotion!

[Daily Work Journal—8/9]

Not only did Mr. Towers and I have lunch, but we had it at his personal clubhouse, The Palos Elite, located in Palos Ferns! There was an eighteen-hole golf course as well, and I got to golf for the first time in my life, other than miniature golfing—which is nothing like this! The weather was perfect, other than being a little hot. A slight breeze came from the southeast, I think, but I don't think that it was strong enough to blow my golf balls off course.

By the fifth hole, I was doing rather horribly—my score had reached 32, and I was getting a little embarrassed. Mr. Towers was awesome, with a score of 18, but he was cursing the whole time! At one point, I saw him throw the club out of frustration.... I tried to stifle my laughter, without success.

He turned around, focused his sunglasses-covered eyes in my direction, and rumbled, "What in the hell are you laughing at?"

"Well, Mr. Towers," I responded sheepishly, "I felt like doing just that on the fourth hole when I kept sinking my balls into the lake!"

He put one hand on his hip and asked, "Doing what?"

"Throwing my %$#@ golf club at the ground!" I blurted, before I could catch myself.

The alcohol had begun to affect me, and I had a serious buzz; Mr. Towers was similarly affected, but was apparently struck by the comedy of the situation, and he joined in with a burst of laughter that seemed to build up and spill over like a volcano! After a minute of uninterrupted laughter, I regained control of myself and remarked, "You know, sir, I think you are really a good golfer—I mean it!"

He stopped laughing, wiped the tears from his eyes, and said, "You know, Jeb, I think we both need lessons!" Another bout of laughter ensued.

"Whew," I remarked, as my mind seemed to regain its clarity. "I wish I had the time to do that, sir, but I have a team of shippers to manage, and in what little spare time I have, I'm either working on the managerial book for Telex, or my own fantasy book...."

"Jeb—you can call me Ted—I know for a fact that you will have the time to take golf lessons with me! I like your style....I know that your 'Twenty-first-Century Manager' will become a success with my company—and so will you...."

"What do you mean, Ted?" I asked, surprised.

"Jeb, I see these things...." He gently placed a hand on my shoulder and continued. "You have taken your job to a higher level—you have taken what was essentially a business position and made it into a creative position! I speak on behalf of the board of Telexia when I say that I want to give you another well-deserved promotion—to Coordinating Executive!" After a moment's pause, he added, "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, sir—I mean, Ted!" It was a wonder that I managed to muster up even that many words, as I was in complete shock.

He smiled as he said, "Your father must be very proud of you...."

I could feel my forehead crinkle at the "father" part, and I couldn't find the words to answer, so I looked down at the grass. "Do you not get along with your father?" he asked.

"Ted," I answered, still looking at the ground, "my parents are dead...they died in an automobile accident when I was only twelve...."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jeb." Ted appeared to be genuinely sympathetic. His hand remained on my shoulder as he asked, "Do you not love your father? Does your father not love you?"

I looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and answered in the only way that I could. "My mother I loved a lot—although she was never even-keeled, she was supportive and did the best she could!"

"And your father?"

"My father was worse than worthless...he was absolutely pathetic! He clung to his own stylized form of prejudice and forgot about his two sons! My so-called Christian father would get drunk all the time, and in his drunken rages, he would spew all sorts of garbage about our families being taken from us, raped, slaughtered, tortured, and mutilated when the Antichrist comes....I hate him for it!" I noticed that Ted's face turned sorrowful at this last statement.

"You know," he said with a resigned look, "I have a son who similarly felt the same way about me as you do about your father...." He walked over to me and put his hand on my shoulder, looked down at me, and said, seriously, "Chad—I mean, Jeb..."

He seemed to struggle with his own tattered memories and I could see him fighting back tears. "Jeb, you must forgive your father, so that you can move on freely.... He can never hurt you again physically, but his soul is in a state of unrest...and this is what holds you back from achieving complete success!" Ted put his arm around me as if I were his own son and said, "You have proven yourself to be a scholar and a true professional. You will be a success—this I can guarantee—but my question to you is this: Are you ready?"

"Ready for what, sir?" I asked, slightly suspicious.

He loosened his grip but did not release me. "Are you ready to become my protégé? After all, I need someone to run my company after my retirement, which is only a few years away. Your new position within Telexia will temporarily be coordinating executive until you take the necessary college courses that will help you rise to the top!"

"Ted," I answered, mentally chanting the Serpent's Prayer, as I was overwhelmed by his intensity; within seconds, I was back in control. I sensed that he wasn't just offering me a position as a coordinating executive but as his son!

Finally, I answered, "Ted, I feel that you're trying to communicate something much more than just a higher position within Telexia—I feel as if you're trying to suggest that I replace your unforgiving son.... Tell me what happened between the two of you."

"Well, Jeb...okay. To begin with, I became a father at sixteen. Two years before I graduated from high school, my girlfriend Charlene and I had a baby boy whom we named Chad. Immediately after graduating, I went to technical school and then got a full-time job with my father. Despite the protests from Charlene's parents, we were married in Las Vegas....

"Only six years later, Charlene and I were divorced. My new job at CommLink offered me a position in California, which I took, and from that point on, I was only able to see Chad during summer vacations. Several years later, Charlene remarried.

"A year after that, I conjured up the idea of Telexia, along with several engineers. We began what amounted to this multibillion-dollar telecommunications company, though not without many tough struggles along the way....

"Chad, meanwhile, was classified as a problem child, both at school and at home, and by his twelfth year of life, neither Charlene nor her husband Walter could control him—so they shipped him off to me. At the time, Telexia was struggling, with only me keeping the company together. I hired a baby-sitter to take care of Chad while I was gone. Every evening after I came home from work, we fought, with our arguments getting progressively worse over time. Finally, only six months after he arrived, Chad disappeared, and I haven't seen him since!

"No one knows what happened to him; the authorities have no clues as to whether he might have been kidnapped, or worse.... Listen, Jeb, we can talk about this later, right?" he asked, fighting back his emotions.

"Of course we can," I answered, picking up the golf balls and throwing them into the golf bag in our golf cart. It took us all afternoon, but we finished the course and then headed to the clubhouse for massages afterward.

Although we didn't talk about my father or his son for the rest of the afternoon, I could definitely feel a connection between the two of us.

I'm sure Ted felt it, too, as his tone of voice and gestures were different—a little warmer and more familiar. He put his arm around me and patted my shoulder just before he dropped me off at home later in the evening.

"Take care, son," he said as I got out of the car.

"See you, Ted...and thanks!" I called out as I shut the door.

[Daily Work Journal—8/17]

Telexia has finally adopted my "Twenty-first-Century Manager" with only a tiny bit of editing! Within the next week, the book will be sent to the managers of Telexia all across the world! I will be leaving our shipping/distribution building in Crestwood and will be transferring from this cubicle to a full-fledged office in Gettersburg in two weeks!

[Personal Journal—8/19]

Tracy returned _The Dragon's Realm_ to me, proofread and edited. She told me yesterday that she's noticed a significant improvement in my writing style, that my grammar and word usage is much better! To use Tracy's own words, "It flows so nicely! You should read it now!" So, that is what I'm going to do this weekend!

[Personal Journal—8/21]

I realize now that I am going to need a plan of attack, as I am going to be dealing with the practical aspects of publishing this book. I'm going to go to different publishing companies myself, so that I can show pride of ownership in my material, and so that I can assure myself that no one steals my ideas! I'm going to take my tape recorder along as well. I'll keep going from publisher to publisher until I come across someone who will be genuinely interested in publishing my book; when that happens, I'll need to find an individual skilled in reading contracts—I think Bryan will suffice—and then I'll sign the contract and get rich! Sounds like a good plan, and there's no time like now to get started!

[Personal Journal—8/21]

Okay, here is my first experience with a publishing company:

(Tape recorder on)

"It's August twenty-first, and the time is...ten fifty-four A.M. I've just arrived at the Aureli Publishing Company, located in the Tempest building....Now it's ten fifty-eight and I'm on the forty-second floor...."

_At eleven, I approached the receptionist, whose nameplate identified her as Michelle Williams_. "Hello, Michelle...my name is Jeb Arthur Maruso, and I'm an author—may I please speak with whoever is in charge of reviewing manuscripts?"

"Do you have an appointment, sir?"

"No, I don't."

"Sir, an appointment must be made before anyone may visit with Mr. Rogers...."

"Ma'am, please...I have had so many people check it out already, and they have all raved about it! I'm sure Mr. Rogers would love it—would you please let me see Mr. Rogers?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but it is our policy that appointments be made prior to visitations...."

"Lady...for the love of God, just put this on his desk and tell him it's from the next Stephan Blane!"

"Please, sir...you are going to have to leave now, or I'll have to call security!" _I hung my head, then turned and left the office in shame. While waiting at the elevator, I was joined by two young ladies, who were chatting somewhat loudly_.

Woman: "Jen, I'm telling you! This is the last time I go through the Aureli Publishing Company! I have to keep coming over here to collect my royalties because they're too cheap to send them through the mail! Plus, I think I should have more money than this, in light of the tens of thousands of people who have bought my book!" _Click_

Whew! In retrospect, I'm happy that I didn't get to see Mr. Rogers! Maybe it's just fate intervening on my behalf once again. Well, you know what they say—if at first you don't succeed, try...try...try again!

[Personal Journal—8/22]

I see now that I will need to make an appointment. I have the phone book in front of me, and it looks like there are fourteen different publishing companies in the Chicago area! Of course, Aureli Publishing is at the top of the list. Let's see...the Axiom firm is next...time to make an appointment!

(8:45 A.M.)

Well, that sucks! When I called them up, they informed me that they weren't accepting manuscripts at this time! Okay, next...Ballad's Books...time to make an appointment!

(9:00 A.M.)

Damn it! Another failure...I'm going to try one more...Beacon Publishing Company...time to make an appointment!

(9:15 A.M.)

%$#@! Okay, there's got to be a better way than this! Hell, I already have a manuscript out—hey, that's it! I'll use my previous success with the "Twenty-first-Century Manager" to help me out with this one! I don't think that Telexia would allow me to use their own personal publishing company, though...or why not? Who is it that they go through? Hold on...from the Telexia technical manual, I find that their company is the Tenet Publishing Company. Looking in the phone book now...ah, Tenet Publishing Company! Time to make an appointment!

(9:45 A.M.)

Success! My appointment is set for the sixteenth of September at 11:30 A.M. with a Mr. Peter Howardson! Whoo-hoooooooooooooooo!

[Personal Journal—9/16]

Unfortunately, I was really late for my appointment with Mr. Howardson, due to the horrible insomnia I had last night, in which I didn't fall asleep until sometime about 4 this morning—I was just too hyped up about today!

Even worse, I accidentally hit the off button of my alarm clock at 9 A.M., instead of the snooze...thank God I got up on my own at 10:15, and not one minute later...thank you, God!

For, as fast as humanly possible, it only took me twelve minutes to get showered, shaved, groomed, and dressed up all real nice in an expensive black 3-piece business suit with a silky red tie. My tape recorder was comfortably sitting inside the interior pocket of my business jacket, which I had put in there last night.

By 10:25 A.M., I was already on I-55 doing 75 mph, expecting to have only a 45-minute trip, but then I didn't count on there being a traffic jam at this time of the day—I was wrong!!!! Didn't even find a pay-by-the-hour parking lot three blocks away from the Manifest Tower until 11:45 A.M. Once parked, it only took me ten seconds to grab my briefcase, grab my keys out of the ignition, get out of the car, close the door, and lock it. Only a second later, I was already booking for the building at top speed...took me eight minutes to get there, whereupon I casually strolled for the nearest elevator door, although lightly sweating from the run.

Here's the transcription of the business meeting that was about to ensue, which began right after I had entered the elevator alone, pushed the 53rd floor button, the elevator door closed, and I pushed the on button of my tape recorder:

(Tape recorder on)

_Sounds of elevator music in background_.

_Me_ : "Wonderful—I'm %$#@ late! It's 11:56 and I have 51 floors left to go. Traffic really sucks in this city, no matter the time or day! I hope that Mr. Howardson is there and will still see me...please dear God! Please....I need to straight myself up in the mirror. Hold on..."

_Sounds of briefcase getting set down on the floor_.

"Okay. Better! Still, I got 44 floors left to go—now it's 11:57. Okay, I got to think about something else, besides the time. I can't appear to be nervous. Breathe in.... Breathe out..... Breathe in... Breathe out....much better!

"Okay, sixteen floors left to go...and so far, this elevator hasn't stopped once...eight....three...one...here we are! 53rd floor."

_Sounds of elevator dinging, and then the doors opening_.

_Me mumbling_ : "I see the mirrored-glass office door for suite 532 just ahead...and the name of Tenet Publishing printed on the front...I'm opening the door and entering....."

_Me speaking normal_ : "Hello, Ms. Marshall! I have an appointment to see Mr. Howardson."

"What's your name, sir?"

"My name is Jeb...Jeb Maruso."

"Sir, your appointment was scheduled for 11:30 this morning, and Mr. Howardson is just about to step out for lunch...."

"Please, Ms. Marshall...you've got to let me see him! My alarm clock didn't wake me up! Yet my book is out of this world and I need to show it to Mr. Howardson right now—please!" _Just then, Mr. Howardson stepped out of his office and overheard me. He cleared his throat, drawing our attention_.

"Mr. Maruso, I presume? Well, you've picked a fine time to be late—after all, I was just about to step out for lunch...but I need to lose a little weight anyway! Come on in...." _I walked around Ms. Marshall's desk and extended my hand, smiling giddily_.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Howardson—you can call me Jeb!"

_Returning the smile, as well the handshake, he replied_ , "Nice to meet you, Jeb!"

We next walked into his office, and I sat down in a chair across from his desk. He sat down in his chair only a second later.

By this time, I had already opened up my briefcase, setting out onto his desk the thick plastic binder that contained not only my new awesome book-cover design that I had made from scratch on my computer, yet inside was the story itself: "The Dragon's Realm."

_He glanced first at the design, for about ten seconds, and then he opened up the binder to the first page, which was my title page. A second later, he looked up at me, and asked_ , "What sort of book is this?"

_Me, sounding emphatic:_ "It's a fiction-fantasy novel, sir! It involves a tale of two brothers of sorts, born and fated to become bitter enemies in the ultimate contest between the Powers of Good and Evil. Mind you that they are not actual brothers, but both were born in the same exact Date and Time; both possess equal intelligence, skills, and even magical powers; and both have an identical birthmark on the back of his neck, bearing the shape of a teardrop.

"The birthmark can only be magically removed upon the death of the other! For there can only be one winner for the ultimate prize, the Key to the Realm of the Dragons, created by the dragons themselves!" _As I spoke, I noticed that Mr. Howardson was already enrapt by my summary, so I continued enthusiastically_.

"Now, here is where things become really, really, really interesting! The contest that these two are involved in is not as simple as just trying to kill each other—no, no no—it's a game of wits with rules!

"And in order to understand the rules, you must first understand the origins of the brothers: Their names are Wylan Stochsky—villain—and Trendon Harrn—hero.

"Wylan is the manifestation of chaotic evil. Because his family was lower class, living in the dumps of Harrnsforte, his education was undeveloped; he hated his childhood and hated the life that he was living, which was working for his father at a pig farm. Unattractive by social standards, he had no friends and cultivated savage interests in life. For example, at the age of thirteen, Wylan began to perform animal sacrifices in secret, to the god of murder, Martex, in order to gain his favor. Do I need to say what type of animal he used?

"Trendon, on the other hand, is of the lawful good alignment, yet his future is uncertain. His royal family is one of three that rule the thriving and powerful city of Harrnsforte. Trendon is good-looking with strong muscles, a perfectly chiseled face, and curly brown hair. He is also very charismatic and outgoing. He could have chosen to hold the role of Baron, as his father had before him, but his heart begins to change at the age of thirteen after he more-than-coincidentally comes across a book at the Archives of Harrnsforte entitled _The Paths of Magic_. At night, in secret, he begins to practice the cantrips taught within the book.

"Shortly after they turn fourteen, a summons is issued throughout the city; a more organized religion had recently been adopted and all citizens had to report to the town square upon the twenty-first of the month, and all were required to bow before a one-hundred-and-twenty-foot-high golden statue that had been erected in honor of the goddess of wisdom, Lauerina. Trendon Harrn and his family are observing the citizens from a nearby balcony....

"While scanning the crowd, Trendon's eyes meet Wylan's—this is the very first time that these brothers meet—and immediately, a hatred is born but for reasons unknown to them! Wylan's parents are about to kneel before the statue when Wylan shoves them into the deep moat surrounding the statue, killing both of them!

"A cry of alarm is sounded by the crowd, but before anyone can do anything else, Wylan steals another man's horse, with several town guards in pursuit on foot. Before Trendon's family can object, he takes off heading for his stable, where his white stallion is located. After arriving, he instinctively knows where to go in hot pursuit of Wylan, with a newly defined mission: Apprehend this villain and execute justice!

"Unsure of where to go, Wylan pulls his horse off to the side of the path a mile away from Harrnsforte, and stops to think.

"Just then, a strange hermit suddenly appears from the darkened forest and bids him to follow. The hermit identifies himself only as Rackus, and explains that he is a messenger of Martex. Just after they cross a small clearing within the forest, Rackus stops, turns, and hisses out a long incantation—and just as he finishes, a small army of skeletal warriors climbed out of the ground!

"Trendon has gone halfway into the clearing when a strange feeling crosses over him, and he feels something sinister and very powerful! He only knows one spell—'detect magic'—and so he casts it. Trendon's suspicion is confirmed as the army lights up before him! His horse rears back unexpectedly, and Trendon is thrown to the ground. From years of training, he manages to roll himself out and back onto his feet.

"He quickly grabs his horse's reigns and pulls himself onto her back; suddenly, he notices something red glowing nearby and, snapping on the reigns of his horse, he leans over and picks up a thick silver necklace attached to a huge emerald glowing with magic! Just barely is Trendon able to escape the army of the undead, after fighting his way through several of them first.

"Back on the other side of the clearing, the strange hermit promises to teach Wylan the magical arts of necromancy and illusion—a savage and evil path—and Wylan is not seen again for several years, except by the Bloody Necromancers of Lakula.

"Trendon spends his days learning the necessary skills, from combat to leadership, to eventually take his father's place as Baron—or so he makes it appear. For his parents abhor the magical arts entirely, so Trendon must secretly test the magical powers of the emerald. This, he undertakes without success, however.

"Nine months after his encounter with Wylan, Trendon finally meets up with the old mage of Palmensia Forest, who is named Salchia. He promises to teach Trendon the art of spell craft, proper syllables through natural symbols including gems, rocks, and herbs. Once Salchia demonstrates his magical skills to Trendon, Trendon leaves behind his estate and all of his wealth in order to learn magic in a cave deep within the Palmensia Forest—that is, until his mentor and friend dies three years later by a black dragon. In the meantime, he learns a few things about his emerald, including the fact that it can shoot forth one fireball each day.

"Three days after Trendon buries his master, a mysterious visitor appears to both him and Wylan on their eighteen birthday and reveals the rules of the game by which they must now play—rules that split law and chaos. The winner, he explains, acquires the key to the portal, that is, the Dragon's Realm—hence, again, the name of my story: 'The Dragon's Realm!'

"Now, Mr. Howardson, before you tell me that you wish to invest in my story because I can see the interest in your eyes and mannerisms, I wish to reveal something to you: Though it is no longer included in my story—my editor strongly suggested that I remove it, so that my readers will be kept in suspense and will experience the maximum of shock and horror at Wylan Stochsky's sinister actions—I will reveal to you the secret message that was given to the villain."

_He nodded his head, completely enrapt in my tale, and I continued in my best theatrical voice:_ 'A contest of wills has begun.... This contest determines which rules the universe—Good or Evil! There is a birthmark upon the backs of your necks! Each birthmark is, in actuality, one half of the key! After you have killed your enemy, magically obtain the other tattoo from your chosen enemy; and place the tattoos together—and all shall be made manifest!'

"'There are only two rules to remember: The first rule is that before you depart from any particular town during your game, you must murder at least one person! The race is of your choice, but the person, or people, that you murder, you feel to be...pure of spirit. Then you must place this small coin...,' a magical bag-of-holding is revealed, the bag is opened, and a coin is pulled out, '...onto the forehead of your sacrifice, with the demon, Savnemis, facing up! This gesture is a means for you to taunt Trendon out into the open! You have the opportunity to discover his whereabouts, as he has identical coins! Your way of knowing is to check the tops of the gallows in each town when you arrive.'

"Wylan reached into the bag and studied both sides of a coin. He gazed up at the darkly cloaked figure and snarled, 'Who in the hell are you?'

"'Only a messenger...now, take the bag! And if you defeat your enemy, go to the underground Temple at Rashki! This place will be made manifest to you in the proper time.'

"'Why...should I do this? Why should I do what you order?' Wylan asked, weakly.

"'Why? The winner shall obtain the other half to the key that you've had since birth—the Key to the Realm of the Dragon, and once there, your true prize shall await you!' The figure then stared menacingly at Wylan and continued. 'The second and final rule in the contest of wits is this: Kill the other in whatever manner you see fit! That is all....' The figure then disappeared into thin air!"

_I then looked up at Mr. Howardson and concluded_ , "But you see, Mr. Howardson, this book involves so much more than just these two brothers! For you see, all around them lie scandals and conspiracies of all types, and somewhere in the backdrop, there is even a blood-sucking vampire.... You'll love it!"

_Mr. Howardson had listened silently the whole time and simply continued to nod his head while pondering his next statement. Finally, with a smile, he said_ , "Mr. Maruso—Jeb—it sounds like you have a wonderful story there! Normally we don't handle fiction stories, but I'd be willing to put my money on it. How about I give this to my editors, to see what they think about it?"

_I extended my free hand and replied,_ "Thank you, Mr. Howardson, thank you very much!" _After the handshake, I pulled out a CD from my briefcase and put on his desk, which contained the story and book-cover design, and said, "_ Besides the printed story that you can take home with you and read whenever you want, I also have it saved on this disc for your editors."

_He picked it up with genuine interest in his eyes! Only a second later, he responded,_ "We'll keep in touch—you'll be receiving a call from one of my editors soon."

"Sounds great, sir! Have a great day."

"Thanks—you too." _Click_

Awesome! I shook his hand and bounced out of his office, all the way down to the street! I called Bryan on the way home and asked for his help—and, of course, he said, "Yes!"

[[Recollections from Death Row—I didn't record the ensuing conversations with the editor, but in short, my book was accepted by the publishing company, and I was invited back to Mr. Howardson's office to discuss the contract. The events, as they occurred, are summarized as follows:

On Sept. 17th, Bryan and I headed back to Mr. Howardson's office, and for approximately two hours, they went over the details of the contract. I listened and said nothing. Finally, around three o'clock in the afternoon, the contract was finalized. Bryan looked at me and nodded his head excitedly. He informed me that I would receive a check for $18,350 initially; after the first 10,000 copies were sold, I would receive another check for the same amount. Then, for every 5,000 copies sold, I would receive that amount. I looked at Mr. Howardson and extended my hand; he clasped my hand warmly, and I then signed the contract. Ecstatic, Bryan and I headed home!

[Magickal Journal—9/20]

I will be flying to New York tomorrow at noon! I have a limousine ride to Midway airport, and I'll have another limo waiting for me at JFK airport.... From there, I'll be heading back to the Bolke Estate. Life is good, isn't it? I am almost completely out of debt, with the help of the eighteen grand! Of course, I'm expecting a lot more, depending on just how well the book sells! I just have to keep crossing my fingers—Tracy did such a wonderful job at cleaning up my book that the publishing editors from Tenet had only two mistakes to correct!

The reason that I am going to the Bolke Estate is that tomorrow night, I will be elevated to the grade of Adorer! I feel greatly honored that I have been accepted.

I know that I hadn't written anything about my petition for this new grade, but I was afraid that I was being too presumptuous in petitioning and might even jinx myself by doing so!

Life is really good....I have made some serious friends despite the difficulties that I have encountered, despite the fact that I was once a nobody—a nobody who is quickly becoming a somebody! I feel appreciated...I feel special...I feel loved. I already feel as though I am an Adorer of life!

## Chapter XI

Resolutions

[Magickal Journal—9/24]

Wooooooooow...I just rented the movie, _The Shaolin Twins_ , and it was the BOMB! It's about these six-year-old twin brothers, Mai-Tan and Poi-Li, whose parents are violently killed by a gang of thieves. From the tragedy, they become very close; but with no other family or friends to care for these young boys, they are adopted into the Shaolin monastery and right away begin basic kung fu training.

Ten years pass, and the twin boys become young men who, along with the rest of the class, have mastered all the advanced kung fu skills. In between classes, when they are conversing (English-translated) between each other, it becomes immediately apparent that, despite the fact that both twins look completely identical, they have developed very different personalities, as they converse about the upcoming contest (Poi-Li is more aggressive, Mai-Tan more passive).

The next morning, the Master then proclaims to his class, "As you know, Shaolin kung fu is taught solely from one master to one student. Our masters are few, so a contest is determined from each class to determine who shall become that student..... Now, fight!"

The classmates immediately commence to attack each other! The twins begin besting all of the other students through their stunning martial arts skills, while continuously trying to avoid having to attack each other. But soon, the rest of the class is beaten, leaving only the two twins pitted against each other.

They hesitate in defensive positions, facing each other, but neither makes the initial move.

After a moment, the Master finally barks out, "Fight!"

Poi-Li launches a series of alternate punches, with Mai-Tan just barely blocking or deflecting each punch.

After a momentary pause in the ready position, the two go head-to-head again, each progressively better during the match, but neither besting the other. The class and its Master watch the fight in amazement!

Ironically, after five minutes of intense battling, Mai-Tan finally bests his aggressive twin through a backward foot sweep that Poi-Li had not expected, and Poi-Li goes down! The Master then calls out, "Stop! Class, assemble." Except for Poi-Li, who still lies on the ground, the entire class follows orders. The Master then continues, "Mai-Tan is the winner!"

Poi-Li stands up, screaming, "That's not fair! My techniques are better than Mai-Tan's—he just got lucky!"

"Enough, student!" the Master cries out. "Assemble in formation!"

"No, Master!" Poi-Li screams back, with tears forming in his eyes.

Mai-Tan, who feels sympathetic toward his brother, declares, "Poi-Li is right! He really does know more techniques than I do! He should be the winner!" The Master looks severely at Mai-Tan and reprimands him.

"Silence, student. You are the winner!" Looking back at Poi-Li, he adds, "Perhaps next year, you might be the winner."

Poi-Li, still visibly upset, cries out, "No! Then Mai-Tan will always be better than me.... Forget all of this! I don't need any of you.... I'm gone!" He storms out of the training dojo and proceeds out of the Shaolin monastery.

Moments later, Mai-Tan runs up behind Poi-Li outside the perimeter and calls out, "Brother! Brother! Stop!"

Poi-Li, turning around, asks with a sneer, "What do you want?"

Mai-Tan pleads, "Don't leave! Where are you going to go? How will you survive?"

"By the fruit of the land, I shall make my name and my reputation throughout!" Poi-Li answers, his fist smacking into his open hand.

"I shall go with you then, brother!" Mai-Tan replies.

"No!" Poi-Li answers, with a threatening tone in his voice, "And if you try to follow me, I shall really show you what my martial arts skills are all about!" He then immediately turns around and walks away, with Mai-Tan watching his departure in sorrow. Moments later, Mai-Tan returns to the monastery.

Ten more years pass, and Mai-Tan has become a Master himself! His new role within the Shaolin monastery is to teach new students the basic skills of Kung-fu. During a class that Master Mai-Tan is overseeing one day, the sounds of crying and wailing begin erupting from outside the walls of the monastery. Within moments, the sounds of knocking on the outside doors can be heard.

A monk opens a sliding pane on the locked door, and ravaged villagers, mostly women and children, can be seen standing outside. Many are bleeding from sword cuts and burn marks! Several are being assisted by others who are much better off.

A beautiful female, with sword in hand, stands out from the crowd and pleads with the monk, "Please! You've got to let us in! Raiders have destroyed our village and we are its only survivors.... Please help us!" The monk immediately opens the door for the villagers, then closes and locks it behind them. The monks then begin the daylong process of applying herbal medicines and bandages to the wounded.

That evening, while dinner is being served, the Temple Master asks the villagers what happened. The beautiful female speaks for the villagers again, saying, "I am Singh-Po. Just after sunrise this morning, a large group of raiders came out of nowhere on horses, at least sixty of them, and launched a surprise attack on the village! Though we were severely out-trained, our men fought bravely while the rest of us tried to escape on foot! About a half a dozen of them spotted us leaving the other end of the village and followed us on their horses! If I hadn't been there, none of us would have made it here alive."

The Temple Master then asks, after a momentary pause, "Do you know who these marauders were?"

"No, I don't," Singh-Po answers.

Master Mai-Tan, who had been silently observing the conversation, asks, "Do you know who their leader was?"

Singh-Po, with her eyes still focused on the Temple Master, begins, "I saw briefly the one who was giving the orders to the rest." She then turns her head to Master Mai-Tan, and her mouth drops open in utter amazement. She stutters, in shock, "You...he looks exactly like you...but with hair!" Master Mai-Tan turns his head toward the Temple Master.

After another minute of complete silence, the Temple Master begins, "Master Mai-Tan, I am leaving it up to you to take care of your misguided brother, Poi-Li. You must stop him before others are hurt as a result of his inappropriate actions."

Without considering the odds stacked against him, Master Mai-Tan answers, "As you wish, Master! I shall leave in the morning and seek him out alone."

"I shall go with him, then!" Singh-Po volunteers.

"Master, I should go alone," Master Mai-Tan responds.

"No! I can fight, too; besides, the odds will be stacked in your favor if I go," Singh-Po concludes.

The Temple Master considers for a moment before speaking. "Yes, Master Mai-Tan. I want Singh-Po to go along with you. She knows the outside world, while you don't."

Master Mai-Tan lowers his head humbly and replies, "Yes, Master...." The next morning, and for the remainder of the movie, the two go off in search of the evil twin, Poi-Li. They pass two other villages that have been destroyed, and after several battles that the two get into along the way, Singh-Po begins to fall in love with Mai-Tan but says nothing of it. Even though it seems obvious, Mai-Tan pays no attention...eventually, they finally discover the whereabouts of Poi-Li's encampment, and they launch their own surprise attack!

This is where the battle gets very, very intense! None of Poi-Li's followers can stand up to the superior martial arts skills of Mai-Tan and Singh-Po, and most are maimed or killed as a result of their disorganization! Poi-Li, upon witnessing most of his army's destruction, finally launches a surprise attack on Singh-Po and slices her body open!

Just as the last two raiders are finished by Mai-Tan, and just like the beginning of the movie, the two twins face each other, alone! The best martial arts choreography I've ever seen occurs throughout minutes of incessant fighting; this fighting highlights Poi-Li's aggressive yet disorganized attacks and Mai-Tan's passive yet organized defenses! The fighting is so fast that the camera can barely keep up with their lightning-quick moves!

Once again, Poi-Li is bested, Mai-Tan stopping just short of finishing off his brother.

Mai-Tan pleads to his severely bleeding brother, after locking him into an unbreakable grip, "Enough! Return yourself to the ways of inner peace, my brother...and then it shall truly come!"

While coughing up blood, Poi-Li weakly replies, "Yes...you're right, my brother...I'm sorry!"

Before Mai-Tan releases his grip on his brother, he asks, "So, all is over then, my brother? We can now return to peace?"

"Yes, I swear it!" Poi-Li responds. "I have erred, my brother...." Mai-Tan then releases his grip on his brother and stands up. Turning around to make his way back to the monastery, he does not expect the leg sweep that pulls him off his feet and slams him into the ground onto his back!

Poi-Li rolls over, while swinging a roundhouse punch into Mai-Tan. Just before Poi-Li's fist obliterates Mai-Tan's face, Mai-Tan's hand juts out, grabbing Poi-Li's incoming fist, and ultimately stops it in mid-flight! Mai-Tan then twists his own body, and his free hand reaches up and grabs Poi-Li's neck, instantly crushing his windpipe!

Mai-Tan is saddened by the realization that his twin is now dead. He then looks over at Singh-Po's lifeless body, and through the camera's eye, we see him recalling the words, times, and adventures he spent with her, each revealing her ever-growing love for him—and now, Mai-Tan realizes, his love for her. With tears flowing, Mai-Tan sadly drops his gaze to the ground, picks up Singh-Po's body, and carries her off into the sunset....

Whew! That was _the best martial arts movie_ I have ever seen! Now, why did I summarize this particular movie in my Magickal journal? Because I have decided to learn the ways of inner peace and kung fu! Now that I think about it, it'd be cool to learn tai chi. The best place to learn all of this would be in China—I wonder if Telexia has any facilities over there? I'm going to find out—perhaps it's time for a little change.

This change, of course, extends to my magickal life. I thought that, by now, I would have been satisfied with being an Adorer, but I want to go further, and I believe that I can accomplish it—after all, who can stop me from ruling the world? My own doubts, of course—but if power will be mine, I shall do my best to use it wisely! I need balance to regulate the power; this is why I need to go to China, and really soon! Tomorrow morning at work, I will put in my two-week notice. As money is the last thing on my mind right now, and the least important, I will humbly mention that I received a check in the mail for $80,241.64 today! With the money, I am going to pay Bryan back for the Z-Ster—and go to China!

[Personal Journal—9/27]

I still have full intentions of paying the entire cost of the Z-Ster back to Bryan, though I shall wait a bit to pay back the cost of the condo...I looked up the cost of the car on the Internet today, and the Z-Ster runs just shy of $50,000! Now, where does a college student get money like that, even with the family name of White? How much money does Bryan have anyway? How much money do the _Whites_ have? And why would he want to go through college? Bryan was probably born with a platinum spoon in his mouth!

And his dad, Anthony—doesn't he even care that Bryan used up at least $160,000 of his money on me? I know that I haven't asked these questions before, but the price of the car has really stunned me! I know what I'll do—I'll give Bryan $40,000 and keep the other $40,000 for my traveling expenses, etc.... I'll have to search the Internet to find cheap living quarters while I'm overseas...and then I'll pay back the cost of the condo—maybe then, Mr. White will see that I'm a responsible human being!

[Personal Journal—10/4]

Today was my last day at Telexia! Though I had given notice two full weeks ago, it wasn't until today that Mr. Towers called me into his office. He first mentioned to me that my resignation paperwork had just arrived upon his desk that very morning. He asked me, with a concerned expression, why I was quitting.

I answered with a kind smile and said, "To find myself. Inside, I still feel so empty, like something's missing from my life. I feel as though I'm destined for something greater, something far greater in life, though I don't know what that greater purpose is! And I feel like the Orient is the place to be...."

Ted extended his arm out and leaned forward in his seat. With a cluck of his tongue, he replied, "Well, Jeb, I hate to see a good man go, but I understand! We at Telexia would like to thank you for all the hard work and dedication you've shown during your time here! Good luck to you, son...." He had a small smile on his face and a faraway look in his eyes, almost as if he wished he could come, too—I swear that what I saw in this man was not disappointment or anger but _genuine_ _respect_!

[[Recollections from Death Row—I am not going to divulge to you, the reader, every single journal or tape/computer/video recording I created during my time in the Orient, but I will put together the relevant files—the ones used against me in court—for, after all, I have less than a month to my execution date, and there is still so much more to cover!

Tons and tons of exciting things happened during my three-month stay in the Orient, which adventure began in Hong Kong. My singular goal was to explore every martial arts school that I possibly could, and then to choose the one with the best fit for me—it was my hope to discover, and then to learn from, the true masters of the martial arts!

For the first week, after landing at Hong Kong airport, I stayed in the city itself. Initially, it was strange and a little frightening to be in an area where I was the minority. But I soon found that the people were actually quite friendly! Most of the citizens traveled throughout the city by walking or riding bicycles; very few had automobiles. Jackets and rain gear were the mode of dress, as it rained almost every day.

While there, I checked out three martial arts schools—I was allowed to pay for classes by the day, which was very convenient! At each school, I video-recorded the sessions, so that I could review the different aspects of each school to ultimately help me make a decision. I also learned that tai chi could be learned just about anywhere in the Orient!

The following week, I left Hong Kong by train and proceeded along the southeastern coast of China proper. At the border, the train was stopped, and all passengers were checked for visas, passports, and illegal paraphernalia. Because of the strict laws that the Republic of China holds over traveling foreigners, I decided to quit smoking (bud and squares). Being in another country actually does make it easy to quit.

As I didn't know a lick of Chinese, it was fortunate that about half of the people there, just as in Hong Kong, could speak English! And, fortunately for me, there was always an interpreter to be found. On top of that, the interpreters were more than happy to teach me bits of Chinese, and by the middle of my second month, I was able to ask basic questions, such as "Where is the bathroom?" "How much does _______ cost?" "Do you know how to get to _________?" and so on.

More than a half-dozen different schools of martial arts did I observe and study from during my stay in China. Despite all the tensions between the U.S. and China, I found the people to be very honorable and friendly! I always made extra-sure to be on the polite side in my dealings with them, as I was the stranger among them; and, because of my earnest and curious attitude toward their culture and language, they readily taught me bits and pieces of the Chinese language and customs.

By the middle of the second month, I had made it to Shanghai, and after spending a few days there and enjoying the many beautiful sites, I took the Shanghai-Osaka ferry to the island of Japan. The trip took two days, and after staying in Osaka for a couple of weeks, I traveled by bus to Tokyo. Winter had arrived, and I was forced to wear gloves, a winter coat, and a hat. It was cold, yes, but not like Chicago's frigid winters!

I reached Tokyo by the beginning of the third month, and it was there that I finally settled with a school. This particular school of martial arts I found to be very, very, very interesting! Without specifically mentioning its name, I shall just say that the chain of masters has never been broken! I officially enrolled with this school, my new dojo. My training consisted of two classes a day, from 6 to 7 in the morning and 4 to 5 in the evening. Combined cost per month was $240—not bad! I also enrolled in the local tai chi school—class was at 1 P.M. Finally, I enrolled in the local gym—workouts there were from 9 to 10 in the morning.

As for living arrangements, I rented a small but nice apartment, just on the outskirts of Tokyo, for a mere $225 a month—pretty cheap!

I quickly made several friends within the dojo. From day one, it was obvious that I was not the only American who had traveled to the Orient to learn martial arts—in our class of fifty, there are six Americans currently enrolled!

Their names are Charlie Smith, Jesse Hamilton, Eric Forest, Pete Johnson, Rusty Givens, and Suzette Frivers. It was fortunate that, after everything Sensei Hagami stated in Japanese, an interpreter would give us the English translation—the interpreter's full name is Nashama Hogusi. We hung out after our morning sessions a few times and became good friends. "Nash" also taught me little tricks here and there on how to learn the Japanese language—and though I am rapidly picking up the language, I know that I have just begun!

Sensei Hagami gives one public class, consisting of about fifty students, at 6 A.M. on weekdays. He is a tenth-degree master instructor, certified by the thirty-fourth Grandmaster himself. Mysteriously, there are twenty-four grades that separate the two men—a gap that I would like to traverse myself someday.

His classes vary in length and time daily—some classes are no longer than twenty minutes, while others might go well over an hour. Only a week after enrolling, I was advanced to the next level after demonstrating my rolling and elemental punches correctly, thus obtaining a new colored belt and grade status! Two weeks later, I was advanced again!

While in Japan, I spent my days in training and my nights meditating or studying almost every subject imaginable, focusing in particular on the Japanese language, customs, and history. Any free time I had left, which wasn't a lot, was spent writing my sequel...

On the fourteenth of December, I checked my bank account online, and I was shocked to find a balance of $8.6 million! I immediately purchased a new large-screen television and a satellite dish, so that I could keep up with current affairs in the West....

It wasn't so strange, then, that I should have happened upon a late night talk show called "The Barry Fox Thing" when I did—not only had it become one of the funniest nighttime shows I had seen to date, but twenty minutes before the end of the show, Barry threw out this poll to the audience, to decide the whereabouts of "Jeb Arthur Maruso—the number 1 New York Times best-selling author of _The Dragon's Realm_!"

Laughing, Barry revealed the choices: (A) The Caribbean, (B) The Arctic, (C) Heaven, (D) Hell, or (E) Who the hell knows? After the votes were tallied from the audience, it was revealed on the television screen that (E) was the most popular choice—and everyone burst out laughing!

But Barry's face suddenly became serious, and he turned his gaze directly to the camera and said, "Hey, Jeb...seriously, if you're out there and you're getting this message, I'd love to have you on my show! What do you think about that? Hey, folks, what do we think about that?" The audience then went into an uproar, and I could feel a surge of energy vibrate through my entire being—it was pure exhilaration, pure ecstasy! I screamed out laughing....

Barry then raised his arms and gestured toward himself. Laughing, he said, "Flash our seven-digit number on the screen for the man to call us up! Hey, Mr. Maruso, do you know how many people have purchased your book so far? Two and a half million—you're a New York Times Best Selling Author! I even bought a copy for myself when I heard about it from a personal friend of mine, and you know what? It had me gripping the pages, afraid to turn off the darned lights at night!"

During Barry's personal descriptions of my book, the phone number flashed repeatedly on the screen, and I almost dialed it, until I realized the time difference—it was the middle of the day in New York! I ran to my desk drawer and pulled out a pen. After writing the number down, I picked up the phone and dialed it—what the hell, right? Fear hit me and I slammed the phone down after only the first ring—I was kind of afraid that it might be a trap or something....

After a few moments of silent waiting, Barry cleared his throat and said, "Well, folks, I have another surprise for you tonight! Ladies and gentlemen, let's put it up for...Barry Lugers!" The crowd went into an uproar and whistled in greeting to the hulk-sized Barry Lugers. Barry extended his arms to tame the crowd, and after they settled down, he turned to face Barry Fox and asked in his typically booming German accent, "How are you, Barry?"

"Quite well...quite well...taking control as usual, eh, Bear?" Barry Fox said under his breath, clearing his throat.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Barry Lugers asked, with a tight smile.

"Uh...nothing, Barry!" Barry Fox responded, and then started to laugh. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a nice name?"

Barry Lugers cocked his solid arm and clenched his iron fist, as if to clock Barry Fox for his sarcastic comment. After Barry Fox cringed up into a ball in his seat, Barry Lugers lightly tapped Barry Fox's shoulder and cried, mockingly, "Yes, they do! Don't you think it's nice?" The crowd laughed along for several seconds.

After both men stopped chuckling, Barry Fox asked Barry Luger if he had read my book! Barry Luger replied that he had also read _The Dragon's Realm_ and would like to have first dibs on playing Trendon's father, Baron Harrn, if a movie was to be produced!

I was stunned to hear the great Barry Luger give me such a compliment—to say the least, I was completely in awe! After the show concluded, I looked again at the phone number that I had hurriedly scribbled down. I was scared to death at the mere idea of going on live TV in front of millions of viewers—my heart was throbbing and I could feel cold sweat pouring over my body—but, taking a deep breath, I uttered my special prayer and picked up the phone. After dialing the number, I waited, still taking deep breaths.

After about ten rings, I heard an automated voice recording on the phone, and the voice said, "Greetings.... This is the Barry Fox Hotline.. If you are trying to reach Barry, press one. If you are trying to reach the corporate executives, press two. If you are trying to reach management, press three. If you are trying to reach a specific employee, press four. If you are trying to reach the janitor, press five. If you are trying to reach the operator, please hold."

I pushed one, and another automated voice spoke. "At the sound of the tone, please state your message."

Within a couple of seconds, a beep chimed twice and then I spoke: "Hello....This is Jeb Maruso, the author of _The Dragon's Realm_ , and I'm responding to Barry's invitation for me to call.... You can reach me at—"

A clicking sound was heard over the phone and a voice (not Barry Fox's) spoke. "Hello? Please don't hang up!"

"Okay," I responded.

"How are you, Mr. Maruso? We've been expecting your call!" the voice informed. "I'm Mr. Tony Mendell, but you can call me Tony.... Now, how do I know that this is the real Jeb Maruso?"

"Hmm," I thought, and then an answer popped into my mind. "Do you have three-way calling? I can give you the name and number of my publishing agent, and you can call him up yourself, right now!"

"Why, that's a great idea, Mr. Maruso—let's get started!" Tony concluded. After I gave him the name and number of my agent, he dialed the number himself. As it was the middle of the day, my agent, Mr. Howardson, was in. After he verified my identity, Tony politely requested of me, "Can you please hold for one second so that I can patch you through to Mr. Fox?"

"Of course, Tony," I responded. Another clicking sound was heard and I listened to some elevator music for a while.... Another forty seconds passed and then I heard Barry's voice on the phone.

"How are you doing, Mr. Maruso?"

"Very well, Barry...yourself?" I asked.

Sounding rather excited to hear from me, he said, "Good—but let's not talk about me! Let's talk about you.... First of all, this phone call's on me! Just fax me the bill and we'll take care of it, okay?"

Chuckling at his politeness, I answered, "Sure, why not?" Inside and out, I was smiling!

"Now...when can I get you on my show?" Barry asked.

"Well..." I paused, thinking of my short stay back in the U.S. I had plans to visit New York on the twentieth of December, to leave for Chicago on the twenty-fourth, and to head back to Tokyo by the twenty-ninth. "I can come between the twenty-second of December and the twenty-fourth—how's that?" I asked, deciding to be flexible.

"Great!" Barry exclaimed. "Now, you know—and don't take anything I say personally—we're all here to have a good time, right?"

"Exactly!" I answered, and then asked, "When would you like me to come on your show?"

"How about the twenty-fourth? Can you do Christmas Eve for me, Mr. Maruso?" Barry asked, with hope in his voice.

"You got it! I'll be there on Christmas Eve, Barry!" I agreed. "What time should I be there?"

"By 10:45 P.M. at the latest—if you give me the name of the hotel where you're staying, we can arrange for you to be picked up by limo," he offered.

"Great! I'll be staying at the Ludwig Hotel. Say...one more thing, Barry."

"What's that, Mr. Maruso?" he asked.

"Call me Jeb, okay?" I asked.

"Sure thing, Jeb.... Bye, now!" he said, still as cordial as ever.]]

[Personal Journal—12/24]

Okay, I feel refreshed now! I just took a nap, and it's 1:35 P.M. After checking into the Ludwig Hotel Suite at 10:11 P.M., I set the VCR to record at eleven o'clock. After ordering some food from room service, I quickly dressed into a beautiful orange and black silk shirt, some loose-fitting black slacks, and Vercani dress shoes that I had recently purchased in Tokyo. Just after eating, I received a phone call informing me that my extended limo had arrived, and I was transported in style to the Barry Fox Show!

After the show, I headed back to the hotel and tried to sleep, without success. My mind and my adrenaline were racing as I thought about home; I called the airport and found out that there was a 2:30 A.M. flight, so I packed my stuff, including my VCR taping of the show, took a cab to the airport, and flew back to Chicago. Another limousine brought me home, where I am now using my desktop computer.

Tomorrow, I plan to visit my old workplace to say hi to everyone. I recall that, while I was writing my first book, I had promised about fifty of my former coworkers—including Tracy—a celebration cruise; I will inform them that, next summer, on the twenty-fifth of August, I will have all the arrangements for the trip, so that they may save up their vacation time.

Well, time to go watch the Late Show and see how I looked...

[Magickal Journal—12/25]

After watching the Late Show about ten times or so, I grew tired and took a short nap—and now that I feel refreshed, I can summarize the show and compare it to the thoughts that are flying around in my head.

I remember the crowd roaring upon my entrance, but I know that I looked calm and serene—to be honest, however, I was absolutely stunned, and I chanted the Serpent's Prayer to enable the now familiar calmness to flow through me.

Though the emotions that coursed through the room were quite intense, I was under perfect control, and just like Barry Lugers had done, I lowered my arms down to tame the crowd! After a moment, they finally settled down, and I took my seat.

Barry pulled his usual friendly fast ones on me and started by asking me how Hell was! He asked me if I had plans to create any new books in the future, or to have my books turned into movies; and he asked me if I was going to do any book signings—he even had a copy of the book with him and asked me to autograph it in front of the whole crowd!

I answered all of Barry's questions easily, and even fired questions back at him without blinking an eye. I informed him that Hell was a cold place at the time, as I had been residing in the Orient and learning a new culture; I also stated that I wasn't ready to spend the necessary time in order to transform my first book into a Hollywood movie, just yet; I explained to him that I wanted to finish writing all three first—giving away the knowledge to everyone that I had a trilogy in mind.

I signed his copy of the book, and it was an absolutely exhilarating experience! He thanked me for my appearance, and the crowd once again went into an uproar upon my exit! Without the Serpent's Prayer, I probably would have run off the stage in terror, looking like a fool—now, I realize that I have established an adherence to the underlying foundation known as the Tao, and I can apply it to everyday functions!

I have decided to purchase a portable computer upon my return back to Tokyo in four days, as I wish to keep better details of my affairs during my stay in the Orient.

Well, it's almost time to go...I still have a casserole to make, and Bryan will be here in a half-hour or so to take me to Vicky's place for Christmas dinner! I have a check written out for $500,000 to give to him, the remainder of what I owed him, with a nice-sized bonus... Later tonight, I shall be going to Pete's house for Christmas dinner. I know they'll all love the gifts I got for them from the Orient.

Sayonara!

[Personal Journal—12/26]

I called up Bryan and am now waiting for him to pick me up and take me to Cue Ball Pool Hall! Some of my buddies from Telexia will be meeting us there around nine or so; the second-shifters won't be there until a little after midnight, which happens to be the time the pool hall usually closes. But I have that covered—I have paid the owner, Ted Grash, to keep it open till three in the morning; and in addition to the thousand dollars I promised him just to keep the place open, I promised him another grand for free drinks all night long. Of course, he readily agreed!

[Magickal Journal—12/27]

Whoo! Last night was intense! Word had gotten around that I was going to be at Cue Ball, and the place was packed! After Bryan and I got out of his new German-imported PTN cruiser, we could see scores of people inside through the windows, mostly from my old workplace. As we looked for a place to sit, I noticed Ted, the owner of Cue Ball, walk in. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack—normally, Cue only has about twenty-five people on any given night, but tonight, there were likely more than a hundred people there!

After waving Ted over, I introduced myself and handed him a check for two grand, and then another grand in cash, as I could see from the number of people there that we might run out of alcohol around midnight or so. As I handed him the money, a blonde-haired woman approached me and asked if I was Jeb Maruso. I nodded affirmatively and she stated, excitedly, that she was my number one fan. My fingers fumbled around the buttons of my tape recorder and finally settled on the 'record' button. Here is where the recorded conversation begins:

(Tape recorder on)

_Me_ : "Really? What's your name?" _I had been approached by a young woman who had read my book and had just come up to me to ask for my autograph_.

"Melanie...Melanie Curts! You know, I really loved your book!" _I gave her a runover with my eyes, and I remember that she had shoulder-cropped red hair and green eyes. She was a little overweight but very pretty!_

"So...what was it, exactly, that you liked about my novel?"

"Well...you seem to be a master of words, for one! Boy, I feel like I'm the one on the spot now...."

"You are...."

"It was the way..." _She closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again_. "...that you described your scenarios and characters—your villains were true conspirators and assassins! I especially hated Wylan, his brutality and the gruesome acts that he forced his victims to endure...and I was terrified by the fact that even after their deaths, he would steal their souls! And then, there's the other side of the coin—oh, pardon the pun!" _We both laughed at her inadvertent jest._ "Your heroes are quite inspiring! Your number one hero, Trendon Harrn, is incredible—his wit and charm, his debonair style, and especially, his romantic side—I fell in love with him and wished he were real...."

"You saw all that?" _I was genuinely shocked!_

_Laughing._ "If you didn't read the book to the very end, you would think that the author himself was deranged!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jeb, throughout the book, you kept inserting these variables that didn't make sense—but at the end, all the pieces within the puzzle completely fit together, and they revealed a picture—a masterpiece! The ending is what makes you a genius!" _I was flattered and almost couldn't gather my thoughts, but I managed to respond_.

"That's wonderful...that's exactly the image I wanted to convey...thank you very much, Melanie!"

_Laughing_ "No...thank you, Mr. Maruso! Oh, before I forget, will you do me the honor of autographing my copy of your novel?"

"Of course, Melanie—it would be my pleasure...." _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—Around midnight or so, Bryan began feeling real sick from a head cold and left for home. I assured him that I would find a ride home—after all, the other patrons were going to take full advantage of this party and stick around until closing. What more could they ask for? A free party!

By two o'clock, I had engaged myself in a game of pool with one of my former coworkers, Dave. Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "Eight-ball, corner pocket." I aimed the cue stick carefully and made my shot. "Oh, yeah!" Glancing to my left, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a beautiful woman of Hispanic origin watching me—she had piercing brown eyes, long, wavy black hair, and a nice tan to match!

I threw a quick smile over at her, and her brow furrowed slightly but then relaxed. She then turned abruptly, without returning my smile, and proceeded to take her next shot in her own game of pool. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, and then realization hit—I knew exactly who she was—Nina, the girl from McBuck's!

I noticed that she was currently engaged in a game with a blonde-haired woman; there were two men standing against the wall, watching the two play pool, and I noticed that, on occasion, the girls would stop playing and talk to them. They were well-built, as if they were regular visitors to the gym. Preparing to re-encounter Nina, I put my hand into my pocket and turned on the tape recorder.

"Well gentlemen, I'll be back in a few—I've got a spicy chick to go meet!" Ignoring the laughter of my buddies, I headed over to Nina's table. She was leaning over the table, shifting around to aim for her next shot. Upon my approach, she looked up just as she was taking her shot—she hit the cue ball errantly, and it spun directly into the pocket.

"Damn!" she said, looking at me again in irritation.

"Sorry—I hate it when that happens!" I said, apologetically.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked, her brow furrowing again. I thought she looked quite attractive when she got angry!

"Um...no. Not exactly, anyway...."

"What do you mean?"

"You _have_ met me before...at a McBucks in McCurrn, where you used to work! I was the guy who was a little mean to that old lady who interrupted me while I was trying to talk to you—remember?" Recognition dawned on her face as she remembered....

"Oh, yeah.... You were a real jerk!"

"Well, I tried to sincerely apologize to her, but when I turned, she had already disappeared! I'm not usually so inconsiderate, but I wasn't feeling so well!" I could tell that she saw the sincerity in my eyes.

"Well, I guess I can forgive you! But you really should try to keep your cool...."

"Fair enough, Nina—who are your friends?" Nina appeared to be surprised that I remembered her name.

"This here's my friend, Margaret, and the guys are Jer and Rick.... Hey, guys, this here's—hey, what's your name, anyway?"

"I'm Jeb...nice to meet you."

"What's up?" The guys nodded their heads, but they didn't look too pleased to see me. Margaret, on the other hand, came right over and extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Jeb. I'm Margaret." With a warm smile, she extended her hand, and as I grasped it gently and held it there for a moment, she emitted a slight gasp of recognition. "Wait—are you _the_ Jeb Arthur Maruso? The author of _The Dragon's Realm_?"

I nodded in the affirmative, smiling humbly, and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Margaret."

"Truly, the pleasure is all mine," she said, clearing her throat. A look of remembrance crossed her face and she said, "Oh, nuts! I wish I had my copy of your book with me! Are you going to be here for a while, Mr. Maruso?"

"I'll be here until Cue Call closes."

"Good—make sure you don't go anywhere, okay?" Turning to Nina, she said, "I'll be right back, Nina!"

"Okay, Margaret!" I heard Nina say as I watched Margaret head for the exit.

Looking back over at Nina, I saw that she was already back into the pool game, now leaning over the pool table to take a shot; I attempted to give her a suggestion for her next shot and immediately regretted doing so.

"You know, you might want to try this next shot from over here...around the back."

"I know what I'm doing!" she snapped.

"Okay...you win!"

One of the guys came over to her and said, "Nina, would you like a real pro to show you how the game is played?"

She spun around and replied, "When you see one, let me know...just let me shoot, for God's sake!" I chuckled, and I could see that my laughter was not helping, as his feathers had already been ruffled at her outburst. He glared at me, then turned back to Nina.

"Baby, you probably just need glasses or something."

"Yeah, Jerry...that, and maybe brain surgery, too!" Rick piped in, his voice slurred. I looked at the two guys and they appeared to be intoxicated. On the table lay several empty pitchers of beer, as well as ten or so shot glasses. Jerry winked at Rick, looked over at me, and turned back to Nina.

Jer then asked Nina, "Does your friend think he's a pro?"

"I can hold my own..." I answered.

"Well, a hundred bucks says that you two get clobbered. Can you hold with that?"

"You're on!" This time, Nina answered for me. She set the rack on the table and proceeded to pull the balls from the pockets.

I realized that I did not have a hundred dollars, as I had given Ted all the cash I had brought with me; I walked over to Nina and whispered, "Listen...I don't have the cash to cover this game, you know! If we should happen to lose, I would have to run to the ATM machine at the bank—outside, in the freezing cold!"

She leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, "That's why we'd better win..."

"Hmm..." I muttered.

"Your break, Jer!" Rick called out.

To make a potentially long story short, we had held our own in the pool game, and I was about to sink the fourteen ball in the corner pocket, which would leave the eight ball just inches away for the win! However, just as I was about to shoot, Jer interjected, "Why don't we spice up this game just a little bit?"

"What do you have in mind?" Nina asked. I straightened up, waiting to hear Jer's proposal.

"Let's double the bet!"

I shook my head. "No. Our original bet stands as is."

"You sound like a wussy to me!" Rick hissed in my direction.

"Maybe, maybe not."

"What did you say, punk?" Rick yelled, as he came storming around the table.

"I said, the bet stands!" I could sense that we had drawn the attention of the other patrons in the bar. Jer came over to where Rick and I stood.

"Okay, then—just make your shot, dude!"

"No problem...excuse me, gentlemen?" They both moved, clearing my way back to the pool table. "Fourteen ball, corner pocket." Ignoring my surroundings and the people in the room, I focused only upon my shot—I took the shot and watched as the fourteen ball rolled slowly to the hole and sank. The cue ball bounced off the railing and came back out about five inches, leaving my last shot clear!

Nina squealed in delight and I breathed a sigh of relief; but despite my poker face, our opponents weren't too happy. I could see faint red auras of light surrounding our opponents, and from my meditating and training, I knew that this represented the heat of anger emanating from within them. I knew that a fight could start at any moment.

Before attempting my final shot, I leaned my pool stick against the table and looked at my opponents. "Listen guys...I don't like what this game might be leading to...."

"Now you listen," Rick cut me off. "Just make your last shot—there will be no fights here tonight!"

"Hold on," I insisted, still calm. "Let's call it a game—fifty bucks loss for you and we come out shaking hands. Okay?"

"We got the money to cover this game! Do you?" Jer tapped his palm with his stick.

"Yes, I have it covered, but—"

"But nothing—make your %$#@ shot!"

Putting my hands up in peace, I picked up the cue stick and aimed. My adrenaline was running high, and I could feel the anger brewing. As a solution, I uttered the Serpent's Prayer. I took my shot—the cue ball slammed into the eight ball, and the eight ball rolled into the back of the corner pocket too hard! However, just before the eight ball could bounce back out of the pocket, the incoming cue ball clunked into it and changed the direction of the eight ball's flight—straight up, about six inches into the air! The cue ball settled about two inches from the corner pocket and the eight ball came back down and landed right in the corner pocket.

"Yes!" Nina squealed. "We won!" She ran over to me and leaped into my arms. Seconds after I had set her down onto the pool table, I sensed a fist flying in my direction—just before it connected, I grabbed the wrist and twisted it ever so slightly. My assailant's body wasn't prepared for the move, and it was his face that slammed into the floor! Twisting a little more to lock his body onto the ground, I pushed his face deeper into the dirty, beer-covered floor—Rick was still in shock from the impact and could only cry out in pain!

Not letting go of his wrist, I looked for his buddy among the onlookers. Within a few seconds, I found his partner, Jer, and I noticed that his aura had changed from red to orange—I knew it to be a sign of alarm rather than anger. Jer hadn't moved an inch from where I had last seen him, and his eyes betrayed the emotion that was sweeping over him—fear! Rick, on the other hand, began screaming at me.

"You bastard! I'm going to %$#@ kill you if you don't let me go—Ow! Get him, Jer!" Without acknowledging his threat, I continued looking at Jer. Behind him stood Dave and Mike, ready to defend me in case Jer should try anything...

"I don't think you'll be wanting any of this," I warned Jer. All eyes in the room were wild with anticipation of a potential fight—their auras ranged in color from orange to violet-red. Meanwhile, Ted had been pushing his way through the crowd of spectators in an attempt to discover the source of the disruption. I could see him out of the corner of my eye just as he reached the perimeter of spectators. "Enough of this, okay, Rick?" I cried aloud. To emphasize my point, I twisted his wrist just a little more, causing him to yelp again.

"Okay! Okay!" Rick squealed in pain. Tears were running down his cheeks from the intense pain. Just after I released Rick's arm, Ted reached us. His aura was orange and red intermixed, and he began screaming at us.

"You two! Out of here, _now_!"

Dave immediately defended me, clarifying the situation. "My friend didn't do anything! He just defended himself, that's all—ask anyone!" Everyone, including Jer, nodded their heads in agreement.

Ted then looked at Rick, who had picked himself up off the floor, and demanded, "All right...then _you_! Out! I don't ever want to see you in here again!" He then looked over at me and said, "You...you can stay. But I don't want to see or hear about any more problems from you tonight, or out you'll go, too.... Understand?"

"Yes, sir." I nodded my head and leaned against the pool table for support. I realized that adrenaline was pumping throughout my body, yet I had perfect control over it!

"Good game, man." Jer had headed over to me and slapped a hundred dollars into my hand. "Sorry about the trouble."

"Thanks, bro..." I said calmly and smiled.

He then walked over to Rick, who was rubbing his bruised shoulder with one hand and wiping the nasty grime off his face with the other, and said, "Let's go."

To divert everyone's attention away from me, I yelled out, "Hey! We have ten minutes left to drink for free!" A loud cheer of approval rang out, and I felt hands patting my shoulder as I made my way to the nearest chair.

Nina came over to me and said, "There's something different about you, isn't there? A mystery of sorts...."

Half-smiling, I said, "Maybe...maybe not. Want to come over to my house and talk about it?"

"Oh, I want to do more than just talk about it!" Nina said playfully while pulling me toward the door. For the next twenty seconds, I heard only laughter, mine and hers, and then the tape ended.

Nina followed me back to my crib; when I woke up this morning, at nine o'clock, I thought that she was gone, but as my nose caught the smell of spicy sausage, I realized that she must be hanging around in my kitchen, making us some breakfast! I hurried downstairs to find her laying plates of food out on the table.

I ate voraciously, while she ate only slivers of what she had made. While sitting there relaxing and giving my stomach a chance to digest the overwhelming quantity of food, I informed Nina that I already had flight reservations back to Tokyo in two days.

She looked sad but said nothing. She had written her phone number on a napkin and at that moment, she dropped it onto the table and rose, explaining that she was late for a photo shoot in the city and that she needed to go...I walked with her to the front door, saying nothing.

Just after opening the door and before walking outside, she suddenly turned toward me, grabbed my face gently with both hands, and placed her delicious lips onto mine! A few moments later, she released her lips, but her hands still cradled my face. Finally, in that sexy but sad Hispanic voice of hers, she said, "Whenever your ship returns, Jeb, just give me a call...." I said nothing, only let her go.

I went back to the sink to finish the dishes, but after about twenty minutes, I couldn't take it any longer—I missed her so! I picked up the napkin with her phone number on it and dialed the number..... A few seconds later, I heard her voice answer, "He-hello?" She sounded as if she had been crying.

"Nina!" I called out. "Where are you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"I miss you," I pleaded. "Come back and spend the remaining time I have here with me! I have to go back to Tokyo! I have very important business to tend to, and I can only do it over there—but I promise that I will be back, and soon! Where are you?" A little giggle could be heard on the other end of the line. "Nina?" I asked, "Where are you?" Another giggle.

I hurriedly ran over to my bedroom window, which overlooked the driveway...and started to laugh! There she sat in her sporty little red Jetson convertible, holding a cellular phone in one hand and waving with the other!

To make a long story short, we began to have the time of our lives together! I didn't mind...not at all.]]

[Personal Journal – 12/29]

Nina made me breakfast again this morning while I was taking a shower—she's such a sweetheart! She is currently getting all powdered up for our trip to the city with Bryan and Vicky. Girls take so long to get ready! But at least I'll have a minute or two to make sure that my schedule is in order for tonight. I need to be at the airport by 11:30 P.M. in order to make my flight back to Tokyo. Speaking of Bryan, he's currently standing right next to me, informing me that our limo has arrived!

Gotta go!

[Personal Journal—12/29]

"I'm sitting in an empty limousine, on my way to O'Hare airport, and talking to the laptop computer that I purchased earlier today....

"The city was awesome! I'm glad to have good friends like Bryan, Vicky, and Nina! Whoo—Nina was smoking hot today! We started the morning off by handing out thirty envelopes, with a thousand dollars in each one, to those who looked like they really needed money. Before the surprised people could open the envelopes, we would disappear into the crowd—it was fun watching their shocked expressions from afar as they discovered the money in the envelopes!

"We then went on a clothes-shopping expedition for the ladies and had the opportunity to observe both Vicky and Nina in some very revealing outfits! For lunch, we headed to Manicots, a nice Italian restaurant. And after lunch, we went on another shopping expedition, this time for the guys! Bryan and I purchased quite a few snazzy outfits—it was fun to buy literally anything we wanted!

"As we happened to pass by a computer store on the street, my eyes caught sight of the store's pride and joy sitting alone in the front window: a MicroBeam X-9000 laptop computer, with ninety different programs, including a built-in webcam and the just-released Audio-Word 2002! What this particular program does is allow one to speak directly into the microphone attached to the keyboard, and then to transcribe it into the MicroBeam Word program—that'll come in real handy! In fact, I've been using the microphone to dictate my entries today, and they're being transmitted directly onto the computer screen as I speak! These spoken entries are being stored in my personal journal.

"Anyway, after purchasing the laptop computer, the four of us made our way to Harold's Steak House in Chicago for a five-star dinner—with wine, meal, and tip, the total came to more than $1,150! But, hey, you gotta pay if you want to play....

"The girls got really drunk on the expensive wine that we drank there, not realizing its potency, and on the way home in the limo, they passed out. Although Bryan and I had drunk along with them, we had also limited ourselves, as we both needed to remain sober.

"On the ride home, Bryan talked about his mundane plans and realizations, and from there, to life and love...and finally, from spirituality to magick!

"By the time we had finally returned to my house, the girls were still passed out. Bryan had to physically pick up Vicky and deposit her into his PTN, while I assisted. After he set her down, I bent in to give her a light kiss upon the cheek.....

It was a sad moment for me as I looked back at Bryan—I had really missed him while I was in the Orient, and now I was leaving again for several months more!

"'Hey, even though we can't be physically together, we are brothers in many ways, you know. And there are other ways of communicating...' he said, trying to console me.

"'Keep in touch with me,' I replied, and gave him a tight hug. 'I love you, brother!'

"Bryan and Vicky then drove off into the night, and I felt a tear run down my cheek. After quickly wiping it away, I headed to the limo and carried Nina into my bed, gently kissing her on the lips. I heard a soft moan from her lips, and her eyes opened slowly.

"'Hey,' she whispered. 'Jeb...are you leaving me?'

"'Yes,' I responded. 'Yes, I am, Nina...but you can stay here as long as you want.'

She sat up in bed and extended her arms out to me, and I returned the hug. I could feel her heart beating and I could smell the lingering fragrance of her perfume—and I almost forgot about everything!

"'You know I have to get going now, Nina. Otherwise, I'm going to miss my flight! But I will return...' I promised.

"'I know....' She sighed. 'But you know that I love you, don't you? Since the first moment we met, back at McBuck's, I knew you were special—but when you got angry with that woman, you scared me! I even recognized you at Cue Ball, and I wasn't surprised that you remembered who I was, even though you're famous and all.... Jeb, I know that you have to go, but I have to tell you—I will always love you!'

Once again, my determination began to waver! Yes, there was a moment during which I debated over whether I should leave.... She gave me a tight hug and cradled my head in her arms. 'Be good, Jeb....'

"'I will.... Bye, Nina!' I released myself from her and forced my way to the door. At the door, I looked back at her beautiful figure as she sat up in my bed and watched me, and said, 'There's a note for you on the alarm clock—don't forget to read it on your way out!'

"'Okay...goodbye, Jeb,' she said sadly.

"'Bye....' I headed outside to the waiting limousine.

"Just as I opened the front door, the limo driver, Leo, stepped out and asked, 'Are you ready, Mr. Maruso?'

"'Yes, thanks, Leo!' He grabbed my suitcases while I locked the door, the laptop in one hand and the suit-carrier in the other, and got into the limo.... On the way to the airport, I ordered Leo to stop at Lenny's Diner. I remembered the dream I had back on the 21st of May, and I realized that some dreams really are meant to come true: I got out of the limo, walked inside, and surveyed the diner. I instantly spotted Jared, and as expected, he had my book— _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_! I calmly walked up to him, grabbed the book from his hands as he gaped in confusion, and walked out of the diner—piece of cake!

"I am now observing the runway, where planes are landing and taking off in the gently falling snow.... One final comment about Nina before I close up this laptop for now—I am very glad to know that my nightmare about Nina was not true! Perhaps in the future, when I come back, we can start something—who knows? She'd be a good girlfriend, lover, maybe even a good wife and mother one day...."

[Personal Journal—12/30]

"I'm back home, and although the time is 5:48 A.M., I'm not tired at all. The meditation I performed during most of the flight kept me refreshed when we landed in Tokyo—most of the other passengers, however, looked like they were already suffering immensely from jet lag when we landed. They should learn how to meditate....

"I don't have any martial arts lessons until Monday morning, but I think I will do some practicing now! I like being home...."

[Magickal Journal—12/31]

In three hours and six minutes, the New Year will commence here in Japan! Now that I have this skeletal program, it is truly easier to communicate my thoughts. I am sitting here in my easy chair, completely relaxed, holding a beer in one hand while the other hand relaxes on the armrest. I did take a nap around ten this morning. At noon, I woke up with a sudden inspiration to travel to the city to see what was going on and how the Japanese prepared for New Year's Eve. I turned on my new satellite television and patiently waited for a local news station here in Tokyo to report the weather, while I made a lunch of stir-fry. Happily, the weather report indicated that it would be a sunny yet chilly day.

I spent the afternoon walking through the streets of Tokyo. At almost every bar I passed, there was a generous Japanese man or woman offering me a free shot of sake—whoo! That's some pretty strong stuff; it really helps get your insides nice and toasty warm!

Around four this afternoon, I stopped at a restaurant and ordered buckwheat noodles, or Toshikoshi soba. I was graciously informed by the old host, who could speak good English, that, "Eating these noodles ensures longevity and prosperity for the new year! And if you are looking for something new to do tonight, you should go to the local Shrine of Tokyo. Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, while fireworks are shot into the sky, filling the night sky with their various colors, every Buddhist temple tolls their bells a hundred and eight times, thereby officially ringing in the new year! Many people walk by these shrines, throwing coins and paper money at the doorsteps, along with their prayers for a fruitful year! Everyone is friendly and neighborly toward one another today—perhaps you have noticed this?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. After generously tipping the man, I left his restaurant and headed back home.

It's 6:55 P.M. I plan to get a couple more hours of shut-eye, and then I shall do as the host had suggested and go to the local Buddhist shrine tonight—get ready to bring in the new year! Though I am not Buddhist, I have promised myself that I will fully learn about this culture and these peoples.

[Personal Journal—1/1/2001]

"Happy New Year!!"

[Personal Journal—1/4]

"It is time to reveal more about my new personal trainer, Sensei Niko: She is a Japanese woman of eighteen years, and she is exquisitely beautiful! To boot, she is the sole daughter of Sensei Hagami himself! Sensei Niko's involvement with the martial arts began at the early age of four, and she rose steadily through the ranks, presently occupying the rank of fifth-degree master!

"'It is an honor to have her as my new teacher!' I informed Sensei Hagami. I shall have private lessons with her at my house, every Monday through Friday, from nine to ten.

"In other news, I recently found several rows of _The Dragon's Realm_ in the local bookstores—translated into Japanese, of course—and it occurred to me that I am literally becoming a world-famous author! At each store, I asked the owners if they'd like to have me schedule a book signing. Of course, when I showed them my Illinois driver's license, with a copy of the book in hand, they immediately told me what an honor it would be for me to do this for them! I have five book signings scheduled over the course of the next month.... That should help jump sales!

"Well, back to the world of humility!"

[[Recollections from Death Row—What you shall be reading under the title of Training Journal is originally in the video/computer-recorded format and transcribed into written word; this includes several classes that I was involved in—as they relate to my story and need to be added—so that full clarity may be achieved in my diary for the Maker!

If one should happen to have a MicroBeam Video-Processor 2002 program for their computer, and access to the world of the Internet, then one is certainly entitled to watch the actual images of these classes, which I have stored there. ]]

[Training Journal—1/4]

Following are the last two days of training sessions at my dojo, translated from Japanese:

(Video recorder on)

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Class...today we practice our combat skills! Assemble in ready stance!"

_Class in unison_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Student Jeb...Sensei Niko...face and bow!"

_Niko and me_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Attack!" _Fighting occurs for twenty-five seconds_. _Just as she appears poised to finish me off, Sensei says,_ "Stop!"

_Niko and me_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "How did you err during the exercise, Student Jeb?"

_Me_ : "Sensei..." _My hands clapping._ "...I erred because I grew frustrated with Sensei Niko's speed and technique! I was not able to circumvent her superior defenses. Sensei Niko's skills are much too powerful for me to penet—"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Wait! First things first—you err in your aggressiveness! You assume too much offense and too little defense; you do not analyze your opponent's weaknesses and strengths! _Focus_ , and you will know what to do when the time comes!"

_Me_ : "Yes, Sensei! I will try to do better next time."

_Sensei Hagami_ : "No, you _will_ do better next time, or you will do _worse_! Your greatest strength is your determination; your greatest weakness is your impatience—learn from _both_ of them!"

_Me_ : "Yes, Sensei! I will do better next time!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Excellent, as always, Sensei Niko...."

_Sensei Niko_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Class! Bow and repeat after me..." _We performed the secret bow and exit maneuver._ "...Dismissed!"

(Video recorder off)

(Video recorder on)

_Class_ : "Ready, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Good morning, class. Today, I would like to discuss with you the subject of mastery. For me, the martial arts are my way of life! In everything that I do, everything that I am, and everything that I will become, all that is of me flows into this _art_.... Yet, also must I always _be the student_ , for there are those who know more than me, and from whom I have much to learn!

" _Mastery_ of our art is important, for it allows us to guide and mold those with whom we wish to promote peace! It also helps us to defend ourselves from those who wish to deprive us of our rights and the rights of our friends and families. It allows us to understand our role within the universe around us—for the more that I perfect my skills, the more fluid I become in this lifetime and in the next! But once a true master becomes as such, he or she no longer thinks about the concept at all but returns back to ground zero and, once there, renounces the very idea of zero _itself_! Do you understand?"

_Class_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "No...you do not. But one day, you may have that chance!"

_Class_ : "Yes, Sensei!"

_Sensei Hagami_ : "Now...bow and repeat after me..." _Secret bow and exit maneuver_ "...Dismissed!"

(Video recorder off)

[[Recollections from Death Row—My time is definitely growing short, as I have only one week and six days left, which is unfortunate, as there were so many instructional moments during our training sessions with Sensei Hagami—absolutely fascinating moments, to say the least. I remember so often poring over both Sensei Hagami's and Sensei Niko's advice, absorbing every word!]]

[Personal Journal—2/19]

"There is something truly unique about this woman, Sensei Niko—besides being an extremely talented woman, she is also extremely beautiful! The grace that she exhibits in her kata (form) is absolutely breathtaking! She is well-trained in gymnastics, which only complements her exceptional martial arts skills. She is skilled in all forms of weaponry and has won quite a few contests in which these skills are openly displayed. Of course, she refuses to discuss them, and says only, 'A true master must be humble....'

Her humility alone is inspiring to me; but physically, her beauty is unmatched—I have never seen a woman as beautiful as Niko.

She has doe-shaped eyes that radiate light from a soft brown face; thick, pink lips that are seemingly always formed into a kiss; hair that cascades gently down her shoulders like a running stream—of course, she keeps it loosely bound in a weave during training, wrapped with a different-colored silk ribbon each day.

She wears loose, silky kimonos to match the color of her ribbons; she has small breasts, I think, but her loose-fitting clothes do a good job of hiding her figure, so it's impossible to tell! She wears light eye shadow and appears to prefer lighter colors, such as white, yellow, and silver—the contrast this creates with her skin only magnifies her beauty tenfold!

"Oh, and one more thing—the woman can speak five languages—five! And I can only speak one and a half."

[Personal Journal—2/27]

"Well, I think things are going well as far as Sensei Niko is concerned—though she pretends not to like me, I think she feels otherwise! I have thrown her subtle suggestions to have lunch, dinner, perhaps even a night on the town with me; but she always graciously refuses, and instead of thanking me for the offer, she reminds me of the rules of the dojo, which forbid fraternizing between students and teachers....

"I recently realized that I haven't thought about Nina since I came back here.... I think it's because Nina is such a simpleton—her life, her ways are all so mundane, so dull! Beneath the makeup and glitter, she seems like a desperate person, one who only sees the superficialities of life and makes them her deepest priorities—I don't want that in my life!

"I think I am falling in love with Niko.... She is balanced and spiritual, in addition to being very, very beautiful—in short, she is everything that I could ever want in a person, perhaps even in a wife!

"Okay, I must change the subject.... Oh, good news! Sales of my book have peaked at five million copies worldwide—wow! Peter Howardson called me this morning to deliver the good news. Speaking of Peter, I should call my brother and see how they're all doing... As for me, life is absolutely wonderful!"

[Personal Journal—3/14]

Finally! Niko has agreed to go out with me on a date! I approached her about it yesterday just as we were finishing our training session. We were in my condo, and I had been video-recording the session, as usual. Just after teaching me how to perform a very difficult arm-lock, she let me practice the technique on her myself.

(Video recorder on)

_Niko_ : "Okay...you can release me now..." _I have just put the arm-lock hold on Niko and have not released after a few seconds_.

_Me_ : "Not this time, Sensei! Not until you promise me a chance!" _At this point, Niko attempted to roll out of the arm-lock; but I had "locked" out that option and held her firmly down onto the ground, being careful not to inflict any pain_.

"Niko...I am not letting you go because when I do, you run away from me! Niko...I'm so in love with you...and I have been since the first moment that I saw you, at the Shrine of Tokyo on New Year's.... I can't keep silent about it anymore! Please...if you do not truly love me, then I shall leave, for I cannot train properly while being in this state of imbalance with you!" _I released my grip at that point, stood up, and turned away_.

"Forgive me, Sensei...I lost control of myself...." _I next hung my head in shame; sorry that things would probably never be the same...she straightened herself up and stared silently, first at me and then out of the window, before speaking_.

"Jeb-San, you must understand—we are born and raised in different cultures, with different lifestyles. My ways are not your ways...." _My eyes began to fill with tears as I sensed the rejection, but I didn't say anything, only listened as she continued_. "Jeb-San, I do love you, but it would not work! And there is something about you that frightens me so! But I do not know what it is...." _Upon hearing the words, "I do love you," my heart filled with hope; but I said nothing, only waited for her to pause. When that pause came, I spoke my heart_.

"Niko-sensei.... There is something about me that you do not know..." _She furrowed her brow_. "...but it is not anything to be afraid of! I have a determination to help humanity, and my goal is to help end strife and to unite the world, to end our differences.... _Her brow relaxed_. "We might be different, yes, but our goals are ultimately the same! That is why you travel around the world, going to different gymnastics or martial-arts contests, competing—so that you can explore other cultures, their ways of life...and that is why I came here to the Orient!" _Her eyes softened and a sparkle could be seen as she listened_. "To me, you are the very symbol of the Orient herself! My feelings for you are strong, and I believe that your feelings for me are the same—aren't they?"

"Yes, they are, but..."

_I interrupted, placing my palms in front of me_. "Please, Niko...just one date, as friends, please?" _Niko's arms crossed into a defensive position, and she slowly looked away_.

"But the rules, Jeb—we cannot fraternize as things are right now!"

"Then, Niko, I promise that I won't let it affect our training sessions...or, better yet, I'll just get another personal teacher! Anyway, hopefully soon, maybe I will reach the rank of—"

(Videotape ends)

Well, that's the breaks! The half-hour long videotape ended at that moment, just as I was about finish with the word 'Sensei.' Anyway, after considering my logic, Niko finally gave in and informed me that we could try a secret trial period, agreeing to go out on one date with me—and tonight is that date!"

[Personal Journal—3/15]

"Niko and I dined at an extravagant French restaurant located on the west side of Tokyo called La Plateau. After we ordered a pot of green tea, which is what she wanted from the menu, she immediately insisted that our relationship be kept top secret, but that she would also continue as my personal trainer.

Of course, I agreed, and I reassured her that if our emotions got in the way of our training, I would immediately seek another trainer. Her eyes softened at that comment, and the rest of our date went very smoothly! At the end of the night, she even gave me a parting kiss upon my cheek. I remember feeling an electrical charge coursing through my body at that moment...whew! This is one of the coolest days of my life! We are now officially—although secretly—a couple!"

[Magickal Journal—3/18]

A few days from now, I am supposed to return briefly to the U.S. for some OSS-related business. However, I requested to the Order that this trip be deferred, and they honored my request. My excuse was that I am on a safari of sorts—and I really am! Now I can stay here and enjoy the upcoming change in season—soon, it'll be nice enough weather for us to explore the historical sights of Japan.

Coming to the Orient was the best decision I have ever made! I love the culture...the history...the sights...the people... Niko....

Inside the dojo, during our training sessions, it's professionalism in the strictest sense—but outside of the dojo, we are falling madly in love with each other in new ways every day!

Niko has even read my book, and she loved it, for the most part! There were a couple of incidents near the ending, however, that she didn't so much like.

In order to understand what she didn't like about it, I need to explain the entirety of what happens—at the start of the climax, the whole city of Battlemoss suffers from a major underground earthquake that instantly crushes about half the city, and kills more than six thousand dwarves, and leaves the rest of the city completely in chaos and disarray! Trendon and Princess Delvia were not in the city at the time of the earthquake, as they had been exploring some very-deep underground tunnels about a mile away, but as a result of all the harsh, chaotic shaking of the ground underneath their own feet, they were both thrown around like a pair of dice in a shaking cup!

Once the earthquake had finally abated, several minutes later, dust consumed the air, completely blinding the both of them—neither of them were aware that this earthquake was actually a man-made one; or that when the dust did finally settle, an hour later, Trendon and Delvia would have to escape from an army that poured from one of the reopened passageways near them, an army that consisted literally of hundreds of darklings warriors, led by Wylan! Actually, it was Wylan who had triggered the earthquake; he had 'mysteriously' acquired the knowledge of alchemy, created an explosive device, and then placed this bomb at the weakest point of a major fault-line!

Niko informed me that she had cringed when the princess was struck in the back by a poison-tipped arrow from one of Wylan's archers, despite Trendon's best intentions at protecting her; and cringed yet again, when Trendon, in his furious rage, failed his oath to 'contain the beast' as he transformed fully into the Vompareus! With his extraordinary-superhuman powers in full force, it proved no challenge for Trendon to decimate Wylan's evil army, as Wylan watched from the rear with a sinister smile on his face!

For Wylan held another very powerful card up his sleeve—much earlier in the story, he had managed to steal from Trendon, a dagger with his dried vompareus blood upon it...well, Wylan simply took that dagger and sliced open his tongue, which absorbed Trendon's blood; Wylan not only slowly turned into a vompareus himself, yet he also began to acquire Trendon's memories, too include his knowledge of alchemy!

Indeed, a very fierce battle began—this part of the battle alone consisted of slightly more than twelve 'keep-you-on-the-edge-of-your-seat' pages; for the most part, the two 'brothers' fought tooth and claw, but neither could destroy the other physically... Niko went on to say that she had become rather heartened when, nearing the end of this epic battle, Trendon actually managed to regain control over his emotions and mind, transformed himself back into a human, and then finished off his evil brother through 'willed force and magic!'

Niko confessed that first tears of happiness streamed down her face, as Delvia, for the first time, professed her love to Trendon; and then tears of sadness, as Delvia died a split-second later in his arms—she said she was most disappointed because Trendon and Delvia were never really given the chance to explore their newly discovered love.

I explained to Niko that the thought did cross Trendon's mind to make her a vompareus, but it never crossed his heart—for, at this point in the story, Trendon believed his condition to be a 'curse,' instead of what it really turns out to be—but those are subjects, I concluded, that will be fully covered in my other two books!

She concluded that she shall look forward to reading them.

[Magickal Journal—3/20]

I just had a very disorientating experience in more ways than one! For while I was sitting in the meditation posture, in the Dragon form, I was literally yanked out of my body, and after only fifteen minutes of meditating—and when I looked around, all I could see was a pure blue color! Even more disorientating.

At first I thought I was dreaming until I was consciously able to look down and see my hands and body—and then I noticed a bluish-white cord protruding from my belly! Looking back up, an angel with wings had appeared before me out of thin air; upon his breast lay the zodiac symbol of Aries!

"Who are you?" I asked.

"You know who I am!" he answered.

"Azazel?" I asked.

"Yes...." His hands and fingers came together and formed a particular pattern: His index fingers and thumbs touched and remained extended while his remaining fingers intersected into a fist with the index fingers and thumbs still extended.

"Where am I?" I asked, maintaining my composure. "And why have you brought me here?"

"You are, in human terminology, in the astral plane! And you are here because I pulled you out of your body! You are here because this is the next level of existence, one level higher than your own. Finally, you are here because you are almost ready to begin your next mission!"

"What mission?" I asked.

"Before I answer your question, let me give some simple advice: Do not judge books by their covers! Look beneath the material for the spiritual! There you shall find the answers that you seek!"

"How do I know it's really you this time, Azazel? And how do I know that you're giving me the real answers? I have tested you by the Cabala, and things aren't matching up!"

"Not all is at it seems—there is an esoteric mystery about me that needs solving! Only the Chosen One can decipher it beyond all symbols when the time is right and God Almighty ordains it...but for now, watch!"

I watched a unique type of scene materialize within my very own eyeballs—but now I was looking through someone else's eyeballs, without a clue as to whose.

And these eyes were currently looking straight ahead, bobbing up and down as this person walked down a long hallway dimly lit by brassy lampposts, each post containing a burning candle. The hallway had been constructed of darkened stone blocks, and would have appeared ancient in design, except for the modern-day gray carpeting on the floor. At the end of the hallway, there stood a set of large oaken doors.

Within moments of this person's arrival at these doors, they magically opened of their own accord and we entered another room. The size of this room was impossible to determine, as there was a general distortion of our surroundings after fifteen feet or so...I could peripherally see wooden pews to my left and right.

This person continued to walk down the middle aisle for another twenty seconds or so until he or she stopped. He or she then looked down at the gray carpet just before kneeling. I could now see that he or she wore black robes, gloves, as well a silver medallion hanging from the neck, but I could not determine the engravings on this medallion, as it bobbled around too much for me to tell. Only a few seconds later, this person rose to the standing position, and began walking forward.

He or she then looked up towards the end of the aisle, and lying on the ground in between the final set of pews, there was an unrolled square rug bearing these qualities: five-foot-squared, thin, and black, except for the silver-colored five pointed star etched into it, as well the Hebraic letter at each of the points. In the middle of the carpet lay a book with an upside-down five-pointed star inscribed on the cover.

The book was then slowly opened, but again not by hands that the eye could see. Within the book was an ancient and obscure language. I did not recognize the letters, but in the center of the page, a symbol could be seen—a circle, with still another upside-down five-pointed star. Within the center of the star lay another symbol—the zodiac symbol of Capricorn, the goat!

The figure then looked up, and the eyes seemed to zoom ahead like binoculars! Images zipped past...past the carpeted stage with a podium in the very middle, ending with the large wooden cross, upside down, leaning solidly against the wall—and nailed to the cross was an actual middle-aged male, also upside down! Blood was all over the carpeted floor in a large, thick pool.

Above the cross, inscribed into the mahogany wood that were the walls, was a Jewish six-pointed star, which meant to me that this place was typically a synagogue. And as I looked closer at the top of the cross itself, I noticed it looked like someone had taken an axe to it, chopped it out from the ground, and transported it here.

Only two seconds later, I could hear the figure chanting around me in a strange and obscure language, and now I knew this person to be a man. Just as the chanting finished, a howling sound erupted, as if a tornado had surrounded the synagogue; the walls began to tremble, and from behind, I could hear a howling of ecstasy!

The vision instantly disappeared as if a television set had been turned off, and now I was once again in the astral plane! My first thought was that I needed to stop this tragedy from occurring. The angel answered my thoughts:

"Maybe you can—if your genius allows it! Every crime scene will have one piece of evidence that the authorities will miss, despite a thorough examination! Discover what this one piece of evidence is, and you will know where and when the next crime scene will take place. Then you will discover the underlying pattern involved by piecing its clues together. And then you will discover the identity of the killer! Get him once his identity is known, but take him out stealthily and cunningly, and only upon the prescribed date, when he will be at his weakest, though he feels his strongest! At all costs, do not allow yourself to be caught by the authorities—for the killer, just like the archenemy in your book, knows of your existence and shall attempt to frame you! You have been forewarned...."

With that, I reappeared in my body...I'm still feeling quite shaken up! I booked a flight for tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. I must call Niko and tell her that I'll have to miss Sensei Hagami's class for a few days...."

[Magickal Journal—3/21]

Oh my God—the visitation was correct! But I was minutes late—I was so close but not close enough....

Unfortunately, my flight had been delayed at Narita Airport by two hours, and I hadn't even arrived at O'Hare until after 10 P.M. During my flight, I was able to discover the church's whereabouts by meditating and by projecting myself into the astral plane....

After I reached O'Hare Airport and passed through the baggage claim area to the taxi line, I hailed a taxi driver and instructed him to take me to McCurrn; he dropped me off at my house, and I changed into my warrior's suit and gloves while looking in three different phone books for the Chicago area. Finally, I found my destination—the Star of David Synagogue of Oak Woods.

After writing down the address on a notepad, I hopped into my Z-Ster and took off, reaching top speed on I-55. It was 11:42 P.M. when I passed Brass Avenue, and I wondered if I would make it there by midnight—I was lucky that I didn't get pulled over by the cops! I'm sure they would have been suspicious upon seeing me in my warrior's uniform.

By 11:58 P.M., I had reached the synagogue. Donning my hood and gloves and strapping on the knife I carried underneath the driver's seat, I hopped out of the Z-Ster. Staying within the shadows, I made it to the walls of the building and waited in the shadows as a car passed me by on the road.

Glancing at my watch, I saw that the time was 12:01 A.M. by the time I had reached the front door. Using my skeleton key, I was able to unlock the old doors—fortunately, in honor of tradition, they hadn't changed over to new locks!

When I entered the building, I could sense the foulness in the air and the negative energy that seemed to bounce off the walls—the killer was still here somewhere! I could feel my heart pumping madly and my pulse throbbing; my breathing was also quite labored from the run. Suddenly, I began to feel an imbalance within me, and fears began to weave their way through my mind as I thought about the horror that I was about to witness! Doubts began to plague me as I wondered if my body could hold out physically as well. I wondered if this could be a trap, and if I could actually end up dying—after all, this was no training exercise—this was the real thing!

I realized that my weaknesses were taking over; I could barely stand, my mind frozen in terror! All of the training that I had undergone did not qualify me to take on the killer just yet—for I was not yet a master.

Shaking my head to clear out the negative thoughts, I took several deep breaths and then mentally chanted the Serpent's Prayer. Within moments, I was back in control. I glanced down at my watch to check the time, and I was dismayed to find that it was already 12:06 A.M. I wasn't sure whether the killer was here anymore!

Quietly, I cracked open the door—still a slight squeak emanated from the hinges—and I stopped for a moment to listen. Hearing nothing, I proceeded to open the door.

As I walked into the large hall, the nightmare came alive as I recalled the images from my visitation! Crouching down, I moved to the right of the pews and proceeded up that aisle to the cross, upon which a man lay crucified! As I moved quietly forward, my senses were awakened, as I could feel the evil that was still present in this room! But as I scoped out the room for the killer, I felt that the evil presence was quickly receding—the killer was no longer here!

I headed to the center of the room and sat down in the lotus position, meditating on the horrors that had taken place there, and as the images became more vivid, I could feel the excruciating torture that this poor man—Matthew Quinn, a missionary—had been forced to endure.

According to the images that I saw, just before sunset that same evening, Matthew Quinn had kissed his wife and his two children goodnight and had headed to his own church to do some catch-up work.

What he was not aware of was the fact that he had been watched for quite some time. The killer had paid attention to Matthew's evening habits for the last several days and knew exactly when he needed to be at the church. Just as poor Matthew got out of his car in the parking lot of the First Presbyterian Church (his sponsor for his missionary work in Africa), a plastic bag was pulled tightly around his head and neck—the time was approximately 8:00 P.M.—and within moments, he had passed out from the lack of oxygen to his brain!

When he had awakened, he had found his hands and feet already nailed to the wooden cross; on his head, he could feel the thorns that pierced his scalp; he could feel the blood that poured from the gaping hole in his abdomen; he could feel his life energy, his passions, his spirit all pouring from his wounds! It took many painful hours for him to die.

His last thoughts were about his family—he thought about the happy times that he had shared with them; he saw the smiles and heard the 'I love you'—and then he saw Jesus Christ, his personal Savior, waiting for him! He saw Jesus' arms extending outward to him and heard His voice speaking, but in an unfamiliar language. The gesture seemed to be a beckoning of sorts, and upon his final exhalation, all things that were mundane and trivial were completely forgotten by this man—his physical body died, but his spirit soared toward his God!

But here is where the horror began.... As his soul proceeded toward its destination, Matthew's vision became clearer, and just before he was consumed, the very last thing he saw—oh God, it hurts me to say it—the illusion vanished and the trap that had been set for him snared its prey! For he saw this "Jesus" changed into a black-hooded figure that stood before him with arms outstretched; and Matthew's soul was drawn into the amulet that hung upon the killer's neck! The soul was absorbed and the vision disappeared—but one thing that I hazily recall is that the amulet contained five strange letters that surrounded the demonic face of a goat, and three letters in the middle!

I am completely worn out from the experience, so I will briefly note, just before I finish, to check out "occult goats" on the Internet upon my return to Tokyo! This killer is much too powerful for me to handle on my own.

## Chapter XII

The Return

[Magickal Journal—3/22]

I've been back in Tokyo for only a few hours, and I'm horribly exhausted! Despite my attempts to meditate on the flight back, every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing the horrific images of Matthew Quinn's pain. Last night, despite my fatigue, all I could do was toss and turn in bed as I kept seeing the poor man's face, over and over again....

I am also haunted by the questions that keep circulating through my mind: Did I create a monster, like Frankenstein, when I created my story? Is it perhaps my character in _The Dragon's Realm_ that motivated this killer? If so, why? It was only meant to be a work of fiction!

Okay, my mind's wandering...but what if the story really made someone's mind wander over into the realms of insanity? Wasn't there something that I read in _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ about fantasies and governing those fantasies? Hold on—let me dig the book out of my backpack real quick!

Okay.... It says, "The law of thought cannot be abolished, for it is the game we play...but in our fantasies, we become that which is not under the law, yet are still final in how we have set them to govern..... Only one exception should be noted, and that is the Absolute Will."

Now, how do I get to this absolute will? To paraphrase the second paragraph, magick is the force that attacks and then destroys obstacles—for example, the slayer—which limit our true potential, or absolute will. In other words, by removing the slayer, by figuring out his patterns through the use of magick, I may reach my true potential or absolute will. Thus, victory in the spiritual abode will grant me victory in the earthly abode!

One other thing—the second to last paragraph states, "The fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil is Magic, the beginning of logic. The fruit from the Tree of Life is Magick, the completion of science. They are the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End."

What the hell is going on here? What kinds of forces are controlling my life? And why are they after _me_? The fruit, the tree, knowledge, Devil, God, good, evil, mysticism, magick, science, beginning, end, life, death, angels, demons, illusions, reality....

Okay, my mind is definitely spacing! With that, I shall give sleep another attempt....Good night.

[Training Journal—5/29]

Last night, I had another nightmare—I saw Nina, her skin a bluish-purple color and her eyes deeply sunken..... She reached out to touch me with bloodied, mud-caked hands and called out my name in an eerie voice—"Jeb...help!"—and I woke up, completely drenched in sweat! Even stranger, the humidity had risen to such a point that the sheets on the bed, the carpets, even the windows had all accumulated a light amount of moisture!

I have been having these strange nightmares for quite a while, and all of them have involved people—some strangers and some known to me—begging, clinging, reaching, and calling out my name for help! What the hell is happening to me? I feel like I'm sinking into my chair as I type.

By the way, why am I writing this in my training journal instead of my magickal journal? Because Sensei Hagami asked me to stay after class today. This stress has been affecting my training sessions—my balance has been off and I've been feeling very weak. In fact, I have very little motivation to get up in the morning after these horrific nightmares! I asked Sensei if I could video-record today's training session and just sit out and observe, since I was having a hard time concentrating—and he said it would be okay. After class was dismissed, but before I had the chance to turn off the video recorder, he addressed me:

(Video recorder on)

_Sensei Hagami can be seen barking, in Japanese,_ "Dismissed!" _The other students rise from kneeling positions and go their separate ways. Sensei Hagami looks directly over at the camera and calls out_ , "Student Jeb, what is happening to you? You do not look so well. Set the camera down and come here...."

"Should I turn off the camera first, Sensei?"

_Sensei Hagami shakes his head and says_ , "No.... Let it record our conversation." _The video camera is set upon a chair with a slight thud, and it is then refocused until Sensei Hagami can be seen again._

_A moment later, I walk into view and can be seen shrugging before Sensei and muttering_ , "Sensei, I am tired, that's all."

_Sensei's strong brow is furrowed, and he shakes his head and says_ , "No, it is more than that! Your flow is off balance and distorted. What is happening to you?"

_I look around and then respond, uncomfortably_ , "It's nothing, Sensei...I just haven't been sleeping well!"

_Sensei interrupts loudly_ , "And I know why...I can see it so clearly in your face—the lines of tension, of anxiety—I have had enemies, too, at one time!"

_I look at Sensei suspiciously and ask_ , "What makes you think that I have enemies?"

_Sensei Hagami extends his left hand, with his palm open, and confirms,_ "I know these things—your fear is conquering you." _Sensei Hagami then closes his left hand into a tight fist and adds,_ "You must master it or become mastered by it! Do not ask how I know, but listen!"

_I bow before Sensei, but my eyes remain focused on his as I answer_ , "Yes, Sensei...."

_Without moving, Sensei continues_ , "Student Jeb, as I have told you before, your greatest strength is your determination, but your greatest weakness is your impatience—unify your body and your mind, and make them into a fortress!"

_He slaps his left fist into his open right palm, making a loud sound, and continues_ , "Once this is done, you may move freely upon the path, and you may then master the four elements. Analyze them and make them your splendor! Once this is done, you may then study freely upon the path of life and the beauties that exist within. Once that is mastered, you may then study freely upon the concept of death and of the ensuing peace that follows! It is up to us in the present to make the decisions for tomorrow, decisions about placing our personal strengths into those who follow right behind us! There is so much more that exists beyond this, but as humans, these are the things that we need to concern ourselves with first! Do you understand?"

_My face filled with surprise and wonder, I reply_ , "I'm learning, Sensei!"

"Very well, Student Jeb, very well...." _Sensei Hagami begins to walk away, but after only six steps, he turns around and, with a look of remembrance on his face, he asks_ , "Would you do me a favor, Student Jeb?"

_Without hesitation, I answer_ , "Yes, Sensei! Speak it and I shall follow...."

_Sensei continues, in a humble tone_ , "Our janitor is taking a vacation for the next two weeks. Would you be willing to sweep our training halls until his return?"

_Without hesitation, I answer_ , "Yes, Sensei—I would be honored to maintain the halls until the janitor returns!"

"Thank you, Student Jeb...that will be all!" _Sensei walks away and disappears from the camera's view; I can then be seen walking toward the camera and clicking it off...._

(Video recorder off)

[Magickal Journal—5/31]

I don't believe it! Bryan just e-mailed me with the following file attachment! Here is the e-mail and attachment:

To: _Libertine2@aol.com_

Subject: You're not going to believe it!

Jeb...bro! Brace yourself because I've got some really bad news. Sit down, get comfortable, and then read the two newspaper articles I attached. I just found out about all of this myself, or I would have sent it to you sooner! Give me an e-mail or call when you get this message so we can talk. I'm so sorry...Bryan.

«Beginning of attachment

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

February 14, 2001—Copley Ed.

BODY IS FOUND IN MCCURRN WETLANDS

The wetlands of McCurrn are adjacent to a forest preserve. Within this peaceful setting, there is a paved jogging path that offers pretty views of nature year-round—but the peaceful nature of the land has now been compromised, and all joggers are asked not to go there alone anymore. Local authorities found the body of a young woman yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:54 P.M. It was discovered floating at the top of the reed-filled lagoon near Black Avenue. Though the identity of the victim has not been revealed, local authorities promise to reveal that information to us after the autopsy is finished.

This has been the seventh murder that McCurrn has seen this year. Local authorities are being called inefficient in their handling of the murders, and several organizations are now protesting. The gay community has seen murders of two of its members within the past six months, and has become the first organization to protest at the police station. There have been no suspects or arrests as of yet.

Article written by Mark Tryst

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

February 21, 2001—Copley Ed.

IDENTITY OF WETLANDS MURDER

VICTIM FINALLY REVEALED

The body that was discovered last week in the wetlands of McCurrn has now been officially identified as that of Nina Juarez. The victim was a model and has posed for the clothing sponsors of several fashion magazines. Her father had this to say: "We all loved Nina a great deal. As you can see from the attached picture, she was a sweet little girl—someone just couldn't have left her alone in peace? Whoever you are...whoever hurt my little girl...will be seeing prison for a long, long time. I know that many of you knew her, and all that knew her loved her!"

The funeral will be held at Heavenly Rest, located at 322 Market Street, at 2:00 P.M. this Friday.

Article written by Mark Tryst

* * *

«End of Attachment

Nina—she's dead! It wasn't just a dream! The first thing that I am going to do is to mourn for three days—then I need to go back...find him...and kill him! It is my duty to rid the world of this killer!

[Magickal Journal—6/2]

Here is some interesting information that I procured from the Internet in regards to "occult goat." On my search engine, I found seventy-nine Web sites. First, I found an interesting site called Baphomet, Immersed in Wisdom, and my eyes were caught by the words under the hyperlink: "...Baphomet, immersed in wisdom...immersed in occult rituals from ancient origins...this goat was symbolized as the means of initiation..."

Here is the information, paraphrased and summarized:

[Baphomet – Immersed in Wisdom

**Falsely accused to be the god or idol of the Knights Templar during the Crusades (for the immense wealth that they had accumulated).

**Described also as the goat of Mendes of Egypt, the Greek god Pan, the God of the Witches, Lord Cernunnos, and even Satan himself.

**Despite these claims, there is a possibility that Baphomet's origins were human, rather than supernatural.

**Initially, Baphomet was simply a human head. One claim is that it was the head of John the Baptist, recovered from the conquering of Jerusalem and the Muslims.

**During the trials and executions of the Knights Templar, the descriptions of Baphomet became more fantasy-oriented and progressed to what has been already described—animalistic and demonic!

**This author's claim is that the accusations were false because the Knights Templar were highly religious Christians, but also exceedingly wealthy—and the Pope and King Phillip wanted that wealth.

**People that have followed him and have used the symbol of Baphomet included Vladimir Vicacious. Vladimir was an infamous magician in the twentieth century who created a new zeal for the occult that had never before been seen—tens of thousands joined in his cause. He believed himself to be a reincarnation of many former occultists who had proclaimed themselves to be the Beast, 666! The Christians' Journal magazine declared him, "The World's Most Evil Man!"

**Though there are the appearances of both Good and Evil, in regards to this name, it is up to the perception of the individual to decide which one is more true!]

Well, I thought my paraphrasing was pretty good, when I re-read it—except for the "more" part—but I'm going to leave it like that! One last question: Is it possible that, perhaps, Baphomet and Azazel are one and the same, just different names for the same being? It did say that Baphomet was also known as the Goat of Mendes, from Mendes, Egypt! Wait a second here.

Okay, the answer is simple: There is both a _Goat_ and a _Ram_ of Mendes! I remember reading something about the Ram of Mendes being Amen, the Hidden God! Wait a second—wasn't there something mentioned in Revelations about rams and goats? I'm going to check this out.

Okay, it wasn't in Revelations; I found it in Matthew 25:32:

[[...All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats....]]

A ram is an adult male sheep. A lamb is a baby male or female sheep. There are two other passages in the New King James Version relating to goats:

[[Hebrews 9:12—'...Not with the blood of goats and calves, but with His own blood He entered the Most Holy Place once for all, having obtained eternal redemption...']]

[[Hebrews 10:4—'...For it is not possible that the blood of bulls and goats could take away sins...']]

I wonder why there wasn't a reference to it in the Old Testament—about goats and bulls, sacrifice—all right, am I getting off track or what? How does all of this relate to the killer?

[Training Journal—6/5]

Bryan and I have been conversing via e-mail for the last several days. I informed him that we would need to see each other soon to personally discuss the matters at hand. He understood the sensitivity of the subject and didn't pursue it further.

In the meantime, I had an incredible experience today, one that I must report in my training journal: While I was cleaning the Main Hall earlier today, a strange sensation passed through me, as if I was being watched.

I stopped sweeping and listened very carefully, not making a sound...after what seemed forever, I dismissed the feeling and continued my sweeping.

Four minutes later, just as I was sweeping around the Grand Master's personal seat, I felt that presence again! Holding my breath, I looked around for a moment and listened.... Though I could not see or hear anything abnormal, my skin was telling me otherwise—and just then, in confirmation, I felt a very subtle gust of wind from behind me!

Instinctively, I rolled to the front, twisting my body around into a crouching position and swinging my broom up and out, into a position of defense. Instead of hitting only thin air and an illusion, the end of the broom connected with something solid!

What the broom had contacted was the blade from Sensei Hagami's sword—if I hadn't rolled out, I would have been sliced open! As a result of the impact, the broom was split in two—I had two-thirds of the remaining broom handle, while the other third flew across the room! I still held the defensive position and waited silently, to see what he would do next. Sensei Hagami also remained still, probably gauging my strengths and weaknesses. After what seemed an eternity, I raised my eyebrow and asked, "Sensei, why are you attacking me?"

Sensei Hagami then became furious, and he launched a series of intense sword attacks upon me—I was barely able to defend myself by repeatedly slapping the side of his sword away with my broom handle! In less than fifteen seconds, Sensei's sword had turned my broom into a very sharp, pointed spear! Though I make all of this sound easy, it wasn't—one small mistake and it could have been my arm or my head that was sliced right off, instead of the broom!

Whoo...just thinking about the experience still gives me the goose bumps! Anyway, after about thirty or forty swipes from his sword, I was finally able to launch a counterattack, slapping the end of the spear into his sword-wielding hand, and the sword went flying! Acting instinctively, I wrapped my right leg around the back of his legs while holding my "spear" in one hand; with my free hand, I grabbed his neck and thrust him over the wrapped leg. He collapsed onto the ground and I jumped on top of him, with my spear still in my hand. I held the sharp end of the spear less than an inch away from his throat!

Breathing extremely heavily, yet remaining steady, I pleaded, "Sensei...please don't fight me!" To emphasize my point, I then twisted my wrist around until the blunt side of the spear was facing down. Instead of attacking, or even responding, Sensei began to laugh—and his face turned beet-red from both my weight and his attempt to control his laughter! I released the pressure of my weight, and in response, Sensei released a roaring laugh that had been held back! Confused, I stood my ground and waited silently.

Once Sensei had regained control of himself, several seconds later, he said, "Congratulations, Sensei!" His laughter immediately stopped, and he then stood at the position of attention and bowed before me, with a strange smile lingering on his still-reddened face.

I wondered, "What am I being congratulated for?"

It was then that I saw members of my clan appear out of nowhere, clapping their hands in applause! Sensei stood up, laughing again, and bellowed, "Now, you have mastered the art of surprise and stealth!" I felt truly honored—I had passed a huge test!

[Personal Journal—6/6]

"As I speak, I am on a plane bound for New York City; in approximately nine hours, I will be landing at the airport. By the time I left, Bryan had e-mailed me several other news articles that he thought I would be interested in reading—and, as they relate indirectly to me, I am attaching two of them here for future reference.

* * *

Naperwood Hallow Newspaper

_March 22, 2001—Ed_ _._

DEATHS OF LAWYER AND WIFE

STUN COMMUNITY

Jerry and Sue Hitter moved from Cleveland, Ohio to upper class Naperwood several years ago.

Jerry, a graduate of the Cleveland Law School, was a partner at McManner and Associates. Sue was a dutiful housewife and tended to their two children, Monica (11) and Sean (9).

When the children came home from school yesterday, they found their parents dead, apparently the victims of a ritual slaying. The Naperwood Police Department reveals that their only suspect at this time is a nephew of the couple, James Henderson, 17. He is described as having salty blonde hair and green eyes, with a pale complexion and a tendency to wear dark gothic attire.

It is strongly urged by local authorities to take extra precautions if this suspect should be seen. There is a 1-800 number listed below this picture of James Henderson.

Article written by James Calloway

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

April 8, 2001—Copley Ed.

NO NEW LEADS IN MURDERS, PROTESTORS INCREASING

The scene in front of McCurrn Police Headquarters has been intensifying over the past 48 hours. To date, there have been no new suspects or arrests made in connection to the string of murders that have rocked the Chicagoland area. There are now more than 2,000 protestors in McCurrn, most of them gay rights supporters from surrounding areas.

The homosexual community proudly raised rainbow-colored flags and other gay memorabilia, including pictures of the two slain 'family members,' Larry Hawks and Richard Thomas. They have now declared themselves to be the Gay Libertarians and regularly shout chants such as "Hell no, we won't go! Hell yea, we are gay!"

In addition to the gay protestors, two hundred or more members of the Hispanic community have now joined the protest, bearing the Mexican Flag in commemoration of slaying victim Nina Juarez. Her father was at the scene, along with many other family members. All are angry at the alleged incompetence of local and federal authorities to apprehend the _diablo_ , or devil.

So far, there has been no violence between the two groups, but authorities are taking no chances. National Guard soldiers have been called in to help keep the peace between the protestors and as protection for law enforcers.

Article written by Mark Tryst

* * *

[Magickal Journal—6/6]

Okay, I was just awakened by the phone ringing, but I didn't get to it in time, and the answering machine clicked on. It was Detective Stiles—here's the message he left:

"Hello, Mr. Maruso. This is Detective Stiles of the McCurrn Police Department. When you get in, can you please call me at 815-555-4322? We have a few more questions that we'd like to ask you as soon as you get this message. Thank you...."

I wonder if the cops suspect me in Nina's death? Maybe she had written about me in one of her journals or something—hell, I'm not going down for this! Just because I knew Nina and Larry, I shouldn't be a suspect, should I? I wonder if this slayer is trying to set a trap for me, trying to frame me for the killings—well, if that's the case, I'm not going to play his game! This dude is too powerful—I need bigger guns to handle him! Even though I am a master warrior, it seems that the only way I can defeat him on every level is to become a master of magick!

[Magickal Journal—6/7]

Today, I performed a meditation ritual in my room in order to find out the Solstice Slayer's next move. A short while after I began, I felt something like a swirling motion from within, and a rush of energy began to tickle my insides. I laughed as if I were high! I felt a peaceful power resonating within me, and eventually, I was relaxed enough that I was able to let my mind wander into the next level of consciousness.

I took deep, relaxing breaths, and finally, I saw a door at the end of a long hallway....I extended my hand and opened the door, and I then walked through into a plane of "supra-reality," or the astral plane. A sky-blue color surrounded me and, sensing the need, I called up my two magickal tsai, or trident swords, which I have named "Liberties." With the extra bit of reassurance provided by my swords, I focused on the Solstice Slayer....

Perhaps ten minutes later, I saw a pentagram being traced out in a black line over the Chicagoland and Suburbs map now in my field of vision. Each of the points were represented by elemental colors (red, blue, yellow, green) except for the one at the bottom, which was blacker than the black line and was moving rather slowly. When the tracing was finished, I saw that the pentagram, which was traced originally in black, was beginning to change into a hellish red. Slowly, I could see the face of a goat materialize within the dimensions of the pentagram! I was afraid, but I couldn't look away—I was being forced to watch. As I looked closer, I could see that there was a symbol upon its goatee—a cross, which became an "X" when I twisted my head to look at it sideways; the "X" was located at McBuck's in Crest Brook, and just then, I realized that "X" marks the spot!

I zoomed in on the fast-food joint. Initially, I didn't see anything unusual—everything looked normal there, with people standing in line, ordering, and eating their food. The clock on the wall displayed 5:52 P.M. Of course, I was invisible to everyone, and they walked right through me, unaware of my presence—an attractive redhead received a little shock as she walked through my presence and touched the metallic countertop.

Amused, I tried it again, this time with an old man, and he was shocked when he tried to hand the cashier a five-dollar bill, jumping up with a start—that was pretty funny!

Glancing back up at the clock, I saw that the time was 5:54 P.M. The room seemed to darken rather abruptly, and far off in the distance, I could make out dark clouds obscuring the light of the sun. Sensing a disturbance in the electromagnetic field, my eyes zoomed closer, like a pair of binoculars, and I realized that those weren't dark clouds at all—those were demons! Hordes of demons! I was not afraid, for in my hands, I could feel the true power from my two tsai—Liberties—and I could feel their vibrations soothing my body, slowly filling me with a sense of calm.

"They will be here in moments, but they must not see me yet," I remember thinking, "for stealth and surprise shall be my biggest assets in overcoming my foes, no matter the odds!" Glancing again at the time, I saw that it was 5:55 P.M. I hurried into the bathroom, quickly found an empty stall, and waited. Within moments, I could feel their foul, evil presence as it seemed to choke the air of its oxygen.

As doubts and fears began to resurface in my mind, a rap song with a heavy beat began to play in my head, and I indulged in the lyrics that sprang forth from my memory of the song, which I had heard only once before:

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

The truths are given and the lies are sewn

Take away the lie, let's make the truth known

Powers are forced by conspirators unknown

Let the conspiracy be ripped and our powers be known!

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

I know you hate me, yet I've never hated you

You know that I'm rubber and I know that you're glue

I'm sure that it's all coming down to this

We can either bless or we can even diz

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

Let the world see what's got to be shown

Lay down your fears and come get your throne

So come on, dude, pick up your sword

Claim your title and become the mighty lord...

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone....

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone...

Now that I've rocked your attention (yeah!)

Let's see no more strife or dissension (yeah!)

In fact, let's now ensure there're no longer wars

So that our spawns can write our shining lore...

Rock the microphone...Rock-rock the microphone....

The lyrics ended, but the rocking rhythm continued to pulsate in my head. I felt better, and at that moment, I knew I was ready. I stealthily made my way to the peephole of the bathroom door, peeped through, and after seeing the amazing sight before me, I shouted, "Let's go!"

I charged into the ranks of gargoyles, and within seconds, I had sliced through dozens of demon bodies with my two tsai, causing their lifeless remains to disintegrate into puffs of smoke. Stealth was my biggest weapon and had turned out to be quite an advantage, at least temporarily.

However, my advantage didn't last very long, as they turned and lined up in formation. They stopped my forward progress and began to press me back slowly and deliberately into a corner, and moments later, I was surrounded! One fateful move and my mind would die, simultaneously causing me to be in a coma until my death—I had learned through my esoteric studies that this was so! Just as I was about to be overpowered by their sheer numbers, and began to consider my own death, the demons mysteriously parted, and I saw a larger creature flying through their ranks, heading directly for me! Though I was completely surrounded, the demons ceased their attack upon me.

Their leader wielded a nine-foot-long sword and carried it with ease—and he looked none too happy to see me, either! He zeroed in on me quite rapidly, and before I could blink, I was engaged in a one-on-one battle with him.

An excellent fighter, he was—for every attack I threw, he seemed to have a defense! Stepping back for a minute, I first focused myself on my movements while gauging his strengths and defenses...

Finally, I came in, easily breaking through his defenses and nicking his arm with my left tsai, which caused him to hiss in pain and anger. Backing off, he gave me a breather while trying to gauge my strengths and defenses. Two of the lesser demons had ventured too near me during the one-on-one, and I slew them without batting an eye. In a state of awe and fear, my enemies backed away and froze.

"You," the leader spoke to me telepathically. "Who are you?"

"I am not your concern!" I answered, quite calmly.

"Drop your weapon and surrender!" it declared.

"No...you reveal to me your name, and I will let you exist for another day!"

"Fool! Can't you see that you are hopelessly outnumbered and overpowered?"

"Outnumbered, yes...but overpowered, no!" I answered. I could feel the energy of my tsai swelling through me, filling me with courage that I had never known. I heard a deep roaring rising and then erupting from deep within me; it expanded and filled the voids within my body and mind.

"Aarrgghh!" I howled as I flew forward, swinging both of my tsai deep into the leader's gut. The demon's body dissipated into a puff of smoke, and the remaining demons fled in fear. Suddenly, the day became sunny and bright again, as there were no more gray clouds to be seen! The time was 6:08 P.M. Before I could recover my sense of perspective, however, I was struck by another chilly breeze, and I turned toward the side door.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" I remember thinking. "Jared!" And without any friends to protect him, he looked extremely nervous...in fact, he was fiddling around with something. Horror seized me as I noticed the assault rifle hidden within his trench coat! "Oh, no!" As Jared whipped out his assault rifle and began spraying rounds of bullets into the booths filled with people, I leapt into his path, hoping to shield the innocent victims; but as I was in the astral plane, it was no good—the bullets went right through me and on toward the patrons of McBuck's.

"Nooooo!" My mind cried as I watched blood appear everywhere, all over the walls and floor, the booths and tables, as if flung there by random, insane strokes from a madman's paintbrush! Horror-stricken and impotent, there was nothing I could do!

"Damn it all to hell!" I remember screaming—and suddenly, I found myself on my floor, staring up at the ceiling. Realizing where I was, I took a deep breath and said, "Whoa...I'm back in my body now...."

I was absolutely exhausted.

[Magickal Journal—6/8]

I am on a plane bound for Maryland, en route to Victor Plush's place, to personally request an official OSS meeting of the greatest urgency! I will need to have a presentation all set up...so, as I have nothing better to do, I will type it here:

Masters and Mistresses of the Council:

It is my duty as an Adorer to report to you my findings in regards to what I have labeled "The Solstice Slayer!" The Solstice Slayer is the name I have given to a particular individual who is on a killing spree even as I speak.

Before I explain who this slayer is, first allow me to explain his pattern. His killing pattern has been predetermined, and his trail follows the shape of a downward-pointing pentagram. I know this, for I have seen his thoughts, his feelings, even his emotions in my dreams and meditations...but I do not know exactly when, where, or how he will strike next. I can only estimate the general area of the next crime, as the pentagram is crude and uneven, but I believe that his pattern will lead him next to the town of Crest Brook!

Now, how do I know this, you ask? You see, the Solstice Slayer is following his pattern in the same way that Wylan Stochsky did in my fantasy novel, _The Dragon's Realm_! But to the slayer, this fantasy is intertwined with reality. He likens me to Trendon Harrn, the aspiring hero.

I'm not here before you to ask for your assistance—this is my problem, and I shall find the solution to this problem! I am here to report the situation...and to petition to "become" a Master within the Order! The Solstice Slayer has collected much power from the souls that he has stolen, and with that power, he controls hordes of demons and who knows what else! Therefore, I am prepared to fight him, as I am a master of the martial arts and an aspirant of the occult arts; but now I need to fight him at his level—as a master of that which lies beyond!

I like it...I really do! Isn't this what I've wanted all along?

[Magickal Journal—6/8]

My request was denied—they said I'm not ready. They said I haven't proven myself to the Order, and that they wouldn't even give me a chance—boy, that's discouraging....

## Chapter XIII

The Hunt

[Magickal Journal—6/23]

Here's the VCR recording from yesterday's Channel 5 News:

(Videotape begins)

_Margaret Dale's voice_ : "...We have been keeping you up to date on the scene at McBuck's in Crest Brook since a near-tragedy occurred a little less than an hour ago.

"It was business as usual at the McBuck's located at 105 Plainbrook Road. But a little after six, an armed assailant entered the restaurant. We know little of the events that transpired from that point onward; investigators are now working at the scene, but we are getting few details from them so far. We have heard that no one was hurt; but that is, as of now, unconfirmed. We also know that the type of weapon carried by the assailant, Jared Thompson, age nineteen, was a small, easily hidden automatic assault rifle....

"Stepping out now is First Assistant District Attorney Jim Bud, and he is being escorted by the Mayor of Crestbrook, Brad Stycowski, and several high-ranking police officers. Jim Bud is now taking the microphone..."

_Jim Bud_ : "Hello? Chicagoland? Can you hear me out there?"

"Yes..." _Mumbling from assembled crowd_

"Okay, good! First of all, we are unsure as to what exactly took place at 6:08 this evening...but what we do know is that Jared Thompson, age nineteen, entered through the far entrance to McBuck's and paused in the waiting line. After standing there for a few seconds, he pulled out a fully loaded automatic assault rifle. He aimed the gun at the people waiting in line and then at the workers behind the counter. We are unsure as to what happened exactly after that, but we can say this for certain: According to a number of eyewitness accounts, another 'guest' showed up and knocked the assailant unconscious from behind...."

_A myriad of questions is thrown out from the reporters; the one that catches Jim Bud's ears is unclear, but he responds_ , "The identity of the second attacker is unknown...he was dressed in all-black attire and was armed, but various accounts differ as to what he carried..." _More questions from the reporters._ "One person at a time, please."

_Anonymous reporter_ : "First Assistant District Attorney, can you tell us if anyone was hurt?"

_Jim Bud_ : "There was no one hurt—not a single person hurt!

_Margaret Dale_ : "First Assistant District Attorney, what can you tell us about this 'hero'?"

_Jim Bud_ : "We can only tell you that after the other 'guest' showed up and knocked the assailant out cold before he could fire his weapon, he deposited a sealed manila envelope onto the slumped body of the assailant, and then disappeared before the Crest Brook Police had arrived at the scene."

_Anonymous reporter_ : "First Assistant District Attorney, someone doesn't just disappear with the police station right down the street, do they?"

_Jim Bud_ : "Well, this one did."

_Margaret Dale_ : "Sir, what was inside the manila envelope?"

_Jim Bud_ : "That we cannot disclose at this time.... We have forensic experts working on the envelope as we speak."

_Anonymous reporter_ : "Sir, was there anything marked on the outside of the manila envelope?"

_Jim Bud_ : "Once again, we cannot disclose at this time...."

(Videotape ends)

I need to think about this for awhile....

[Magickal Journal—6/24]

As the Solstice Slayer has now been apprehended, I have decided to leave things up to the authorities to figure things out on their own! Though I could come forward and become a hero, I am not going to—instead, I have decided to remain anonymous, for a particular reason. I do not want to have to deal with months and months of court sessions, legal proceedings, etc. The deeds should speak for themselves.

Plus, I would have to explain my foreknowledge of the event, my supernatural abilities, and my sixth sense; I would have to explain my rapid ascension in life—in other words, I would have to explain my secrets! And who knows what else? In fact, they might try to discredit me as a witness and make me look like an accessory to the crimes themselves! After all, I am an occultist, am I not? My kind has been persecuted since the beginnings of time!

[Magickal Journal—6/25]

Strangely enough, I have received a summons via e-mail:

To: Libertine2@aol.com

Subject: Affairs

Care Frater AL-Hati,

Upon the twenty-first of September, you are officially invited to attend our annual international function at the World Headquarters near London. A limousine driver will be waiting for you at the airport, with a sign bearing your name. Should you not be able to attend, please notify us by e-mail!

Ever yours,

Frater Mashin

Master of the OSS

P.S. Please come properly dressed for all occasions, formal and otherwise.

I wonder why I'm being invited to go to London? I wonder if they now believe me—I'll bet they do! But the important thing I need to remember is that I believe in myself!

[Personal Journal—6/26]

"Whoo! It's hot out there, with temperatures in the low-100s....I think it's about time to get the hell out of here and sail the seven seas!"

[Magickal Journal—6/27]

Strangely, I have heard nothing—and I mean not a peep—from the detectives, or anyone else for that matter, in regards to the Solstice Slayings. Jared's arraignment is tomorrow, according to the news. There have been many stories about my heroism in the McBuck's—on the radio, on television talk shows, and of course, on the news. The headlines include: "A Twenty-first-Century Hero is Born!" "Who is the Masked Solstice Hero?" and "The Unknown Savior!"

I will remain humble, however.

[Magickal Journal—7/14]

I have three developments of interest to report: First, the trial of Jared Thompson begins in several weeks. Second, I am sitting on my new sailboat, anchored in Tampa Bay, Florida! Whoo...I love technology! I have hired a sailing instructor to teach me how to use this beautiful piece of machinery.

My trainer's name is Max—Max is a 47-year-old man with a great sense of humor, and he's a big fan of mine! When he found out who I was, he brought his copy of _The Dragon's Realm_ the following day for me to sign! He then asked me about my sequel and when that was coming out! I answered that I had just submitted the rough draft to my publishing company for acceptance, but hopefully, it would be coming out real soon... I didn't tell him the name of my sequel: "The Mage's Tears!" According to Max, I should be fully prepared to sail on my own in just another week!

Third, I had an interesting experience the day before I flew here to Florida. I can't seem to remember the whole event, but here is what I have been able to recall: I was caught in a traffic jam on I-80, and the traffic had come to a halt. The temperatures outside were blistering hot, but I had the air conditioning turned up to quarter-blast, and that kept the Z-ster comfortably chilled.

At one point, I saw a broken-down car with its blinkers flashing on the side of the road, and just next to the car stood a woman with a little girl behind her. I lowered my driver's side window, allowing a furious rush of hot air to destroy my cozy little atmosphere inside, and called out, "Hey! Do you need help?"

"No, thanks," the lady said, tiredly. "I've got a ride already on the way—thanks!"

"All right, then...." I raised my window and turned up the air conditioner to full blast. Within moments, the car was cool again and I could feel the perspiration on my forehead turn to ice. I wiped my forehead and turned the air conditioner back to quarter blast, and as I turned the knob, I noticed something out of the corner of my right eye.

When I turned to see what had distracted me, I noticed a redheaded girl smiling at me from the driver seat of an '84 Stallion that had pulled up beside me in the adjacent lane!

As she smiled at me, I noticed something strange—it wasn't the hair that had drawn my attention, but the eyes—they were glowing brightly! I shook my head, thinking that it might be the reflection from the sun, but when I turned back toward her, her eyes were still glowing—I have never seen anything quite like that before, except maybe when light is reflected from the eyes of a dog or a cat. Then I noticed another person sitting in the passenger seat, but I couldn't tell whether it was another female or a male.

Traffic in their lane stopped and they were now about three cars ahead of me; but as the traffic stopped in their lane, the traffic in mine began to move, and I could see her poking her head out of the car to look back at me with those glowing eyes! Instinctively, I waved and returned her smile, and she stuck her head back into the car and made excited gestures to her friend. Her friend then stuck her head out of the window and waved at me!

"Ah...two females," I recall thinking to myself. "One, a foxy redhead; and two, a bouncy brunette...." Then I noticed that the brunette's eyes were glowing, too! Traffic in my lane stopped just as I was catching up to their car, and theirs began to move again. I waved back to the brunette, and she waved back.

I began to feel dizzy all of a sudden, and I recall a strange buzzing in my ears. A fantasy began to play itself out in my mind.... I found myself with those two girls in a cheap motel room! I watched excitedly as they began to take off their clothes, seductively and slowly. The redhead wore a black silk brassiere, and the brunette wore a revealing red one. They took off their skirts; each wore matching thong underwear. Smiling at me, they started to kiss each other. Their hands began to probe each other and the intensity in the room increased! I reached out for them....

"Beep!" The horn in my vehicle went off as my hands pushed on it, and I snapped out of my fantasy. When I looked over for the girls, I could no longer see their car—they were gone! I still hadn't moved an inch, and I noticed quite a few people who had turned their heads to find out what the disturbance was.

"What's happening to me?" I wondered. Trying to concentrate on the road, I switched over to a country music radio station. Though the buzzing sound echoed in my head, it seemed to work for a minute, and I kept my focus on my immediate surroundings. All of a sudden, the vision kicked back in, and I was once again in that same motel room with those two girls!

I could no longer thinking of anything else but them—they were exceedingly beautiful and obviously young—and I could feel the energy inching its way up my spinal column. My breathing had become rapid and tense; I could sense their excitement upon seeing my expression of lust! The energy was now rapidly spreading throughout the rest of my body.

They crawled onto the bed where I lay and began to suck on my toes...inch by inch, they worked their way higher! I began to wonder how much longer I might hold out—and at that point, my fantasy turned into a nightmare.

As I looked up at them with ever-increasing lust, their eyes began to glow quite intensely. Suddenly, their bodies contorted into she-devils, and I could see tails and wings erupting from behind their backs! They turned toward me with evil grins on their faces and began to rip into my body! Their fingernails and toes had turned into claws, and I remember feeling excruciating pain! The last thing that I remember before I blacked out was my voice crying, "Oh, God!"

When I awoke, I found myself sitting in my Z-Ster. Though it was now pitch black outside, my first thought was that I was still in the traffic jam. I grabbed the steering wheel and turned, but nothing happened, and I realized that I was on the shoulder of the road with the engine turned off! My first thoughts were, "What time is it? Where am I?" I glanced up at the clock on the dashboard and saw that the time was 1:04 A.M.! I began to feel dizzy again, and I bent my head forward and sat there for awhile longer.

I am still wondering if it was real or just a dream.

[Captain's Log—7/29]

I have a new journal for my adventures on the Evening Star, the name of my new sailboat! Vicky and Bryan have joined me for a couple of weeks of rest and relaxation, in which we are sailing from Florida to the Bahamas! Up until today, I've been too busy to write, as we've been soaking up the sun, the baby blue skies and ocean, the eating and the drinking...tomorrow we arrive at our destination! Aahhh, the good life!

[Captain's Log—7/30]

Unfortunately, things have taken a stressful turn, only three hours after we arrived in the Bahamas—Vicky has gotten food poisoning, we think! Bryan speculates that it came from the garden salad she ate at the Frosty Frog—but neither Bryan nor I have any symptoms ourselves. Vicky is lying in bed now, with Bryan tending to her. Gotta go.

[Magickal Journal—7/30]

She's not getting any better...in fact, she's progressively getting worse! She has now broken out in cold sweats, and she tosses and turns miserably! I put together a healing potion for her, composed of several herbs I purchased in town; she's already drunk it and should be feeling better in an hour or so.

[Magickal Journal—7/31]

The potion didn't work! Overnight, Vicky's condition only worsened. Bryan told me that her temperature reached 105 degrees at one point! She is now in and out of consciousness—mostly out.

As for Bryan himself, he looks like a mess. His eyes are sunken in and red from the lack of sleep; his forehead is crinkled and his face has a worried look, such as I've never seen. He asked me if we should get a doctor to take a look at her, and I agreed—Bryan's off in town looking for a doctor.

[Magickal Journal—7/31]

I have come back to the boat for a minute—Vicky is now in the emergency room of the local hospital, and we are very scared! She's not looking too good. I have no idea what happened.... It may sound crazy, but what if she was intentionally poisoned? I'm going to have a little meditation session to see if I can gain any insight into this.

[Magickal Journal—7/31]

It's 12:15 P.M. During my meditation session, I was visited again by Azazel. He proved his identity to me and then said, "Frater AL-Hati, listen and do not speak. Vicky is now comatose. She was poisoned by the Solstice Slayer, and as this unexpected attack left her psyche vulnerable, he swooped in and consumed her soul! Now, the only way to free Vicky is to first destroy the Solstice Slayer's source of power, and then to destroy the Slayer himself! And then Azazel disappeared. Now how am I going to get into Jared's prison cell to destroy him? After all, it is Jared, I'm convinced—Jared must be the Solstice Slayer!

[Magickal Journal—7/31]

After recording my last journal entry, I dialed Bryan's cellular phone number to inform him of my visitation, and found that he was still at the hospital. Once I had relayed Azazel's message to him, Bryan, his voice full of anguish, confirmed that Vicky had indeed slipped into a coma! With determination and anger in my voice, I swore I would not rest until the Solstice Slayer was annihilated and Vicky's soul was set free! After a moment of silence, he lowered his voice and hissed, "If that be your destiny, then fulfill it! But you will not do it alone—let's get the ritual room prepared, right there in the master bedroom of your boat. I'll be there in but a moment!"

We performed the joint ritual together...I will not disclose the details.

[Magickal Journal—8/1]

I'm back. Tomorrow is visitation day at the county jail. I plan on dropping by to pay Jared a visit.... Although Jared begins trial the day after tomorrow, he must be stopped now!

[Magickal Journal—8/2]

Jared did not have the pentagram on his person—he must have left it in his holding cell. Now, how am I going to retrieve it?

[Magickal Journal—8/3]

I don't know if this is good or bad, but here is a newspaper clipping I pulled off the Internet today:

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

August 3, 2001--Copley Ed.

ALLEGED SERIAL KILLER

FOUND DEAD IN JAIL CELL

The sheriffs of McCurrn County, who guard the prisoners at the McCurrn Correctional Facility, were surprised to find Jared Thompson, the alleged "Solstice Slayer," dead at 11:04 P.M. yesterday. He had apparently hung himself with a bed sheet wrapped into a noose and tied around the bars of the outside cell window. A note found upon his bed read simply, "Help me!"

First Assistant District Attorney Jim Bud gave brief descriptions of the scene in a televised interview. He speculated that, more than likely, Jared's guilt overwhelmed him and led to the suicide. Jared's trial was to begin today at one o'clock at the McCurrn County Courthouse. Family members of the seven slain victims were also present at the courthouse, ready to give their testimony against the alleged killer. Brad Herley, a gay lobbyist who had come to the courthouse to witness the trial, had this comment: "Good...I'm glad to hear that that sicko is dead! Now, maybe we can get a little peace around here."

Jose Juarez, the father of slain fashion model Nina Juarez, was also in attendance and commented, "I now pray to God that Jared Thompson goes straight to hell! That's all I have to say."

Article written by Thomas Quincy

* * *

It's time to e-mail Bryan and to find out how Vicky is...perhaps the pentagram will lose its power now that the Solstice Slayer has been removed!

[Magickal Journal—8/5]

Vicky has not yet regained consciousness—Bryan has been traveling the aethyric planes in search of her soul! I have been performing some of the more obscure rituals of the Order to raise my level of consciousness, so that I may look for Vicky also.

There has been no further information on Jared's death. When I visited him, I felt no power emanating from him—he was more like a broken man, and I actually felt sorry for him, despite the hatred that filled my mind when I saw him before. He didn't say anything, but I could see fear in his eyes.

Surely, they should have found the pentagram by now—I must locate and destroy it before someone else tries to steal its power!

[Magickal Journal—8/7]

I have had no success in finding the pentagram, not even with astral projections—it is as if I am being blocked from seeing it! This is taking quite a bit of energy, and I'm actually starting to feel sick; I wonder if I might be coming down with something....

[Magickal Journal—8/14]

Two days ago, Bryan went before the Council of Elders and reported Vicky's situation to them. Probably related to that meeting, I just received this e-mail:

To: _Libertine2@aol.com_

Subject: Emergency Summons

Care Frater AL-Hati,

In regards to your friend, Bryan, and his significant other, Vicky, your presence is being requested to attend a special meeting. The date of the meeting is the twenty-sixth of August at my house. Please be assured that this is not an inquisition but only an inquiry into the matter at hand.

Ever yours,

Frater Mashin

Master of the OSS

[Magickal Journal—8/27]

I have just left from the OSS meeting and am now flying back to Illinois. At the meeting, we discussed the relevant details of Vicky's situation and the circumstances surrounding it, in regards to my own encounters with the Solstice Slayer. It has now become my duty to find this medallion and to bring it back to the OSS to be properly disposed of....

[Magickal Journal—8/27]

Vicky has been flown back here, per her parents' wishes; she is still in a comatose state and has shown no signs of regaining consciousness. Bryan is accompanying her on a private jet that he has rented. He recognizes the danger posed to himself just by his proximity to her, but he will be staying with her anyway, even if it costs him his own life! I have never seen love like that before...ever.

[Magickal Journal—8/31]

Today, I remembered the dream that I had awhile back, and I realized that it involved the Solstice Slayer, when he was just beginning—and stupid! It was the dream in which I saw a hand writing a letter that began, "It was a strang night...."

Well, I was so bothered by the dream, and so sure that it was the Solstice Slayer who wrote the letter, that I meditated to try to get into the Slayer's mind with magick. I pictured within my head the hand writing the aforesaid words from my dream; I saw him finishing the page and closing the book, and then darkness enveloped me, as I was the book that he closed! Lightness sprang into being once again an unknown amount of time later, and I saw the hand pick up the pen and commence to write again:

[[It has been one year since last I wrote, one year since I committed my first sacrifice to Him, who shall remain nameless. For He has blessed me considerably for the innocent souls that I have confiscated—over the course of the year, He has given me the intelligence of seven men, of men and women, that is!

Indeed, I am His servant, He my Master!

Alas, I am His protégé, He my Mentor!

Maybe, I am His lover, He my Mistress!

Guessing, I am His priest, He my Maker!

Or Perhaps, I am His messenger, He my Message!

Damn it all, I am not His mistake, for He is my Maitreya!

Ah, Solstice Hero, I know of your destiny—of our destiny, and ultimately, of my destiny! I am your Slayer, and Azazel has blessed me, not you! As you are now reading my thoughts, I have been reading yours for quite some time!]]

His hand paused several times, as if he were recalling an event or thinking of specific words to write—finally, he added:

[[I have been waiting for you, old friend! I know that your mind is watching me, and you will be forced to watch what I write until I close this book! I know so much about you, Jeb—for I am really you, just like you are really me! So give up your foolish quest to find me; if you do not, then beware of what you may find! Once you do, I will beat you into submission, and I will not stop until I have you buried deep in the ground and beyond!

But do not think that you will get any rest then, my friend...for I will be there to tuck you into your grave every night, only to open the doors of Hell for you the next day...Yes, I intend to inspire fear into you, Jeb; after all, you haven't really met me yet. And, as you are now mine until I put this pen down and close this book, let me tell you of my plans for the future.... There will be plenty of deaths to go around, and countless souls shall be ours to suckle upon forever and ever with my Master! The Evil One has been very pleased with my Actions, and has given me his Legions to control at Will, for the purpose of Ultimate Domination over the entire earth.

Oh, one more thing, Jeb—do not try to stop me, for that will be quite an impossible task! After all, who will you really be stopping in the end? For I am really you, and you are really me, remember? You are destined to lose this game, Jeb. And this is only the beginning!!!]]

It took all of my willpower to detach myself from the book and return to reality. He almost had me there—I was caught completely unprepared! If the Solstice Slayer is not Jared—he cannot be, for Jared is dead—then who can he be? Surely not me, as he suggests, for I know exactly where I've been and what I've done—or not done!

"Destroy the pendant and you will destroy him!" Azazel had commanded during his most recent visitation—I must find that pendant! Wait—what was that he said at the beginning of his writing to me? "As you have been reading my thoughts, I have also been reading yours...."

Oh my God—my journals!

[[Recollections from Death Row—I then realized that the Solstice Slayer probably had access to my computer files and somehow knew the password to get into them—after changing the passwords, I spent the next several days reviewing all of my files to make sure that they had not been tampered with. When I was sure that no such tampering had occurred, I made copies and shipped them to an undisclosed location. On the back of the shipping envelope, I wrote in black magic marker, "Open only when instructed!"

When I had finished that task, yet another idea sprang to mind—I went to the McCurrn County Jail to do some exploring of my own. Every day, my esoteric knowledge and powers were ever increasing, including my mental and psychic abilities. Probing people's minds became as easy as pie, and implanting suggestions into those minds was even easier—I was becoming a true Master of the Mind.

When I arrived at the McCurrn County Jail, I used those abilities to convince the guards there that what I had was an official detective badge, even though it was simply a state driver's license, and that I was to be allowed in. They complied!

After entering, I worked my way through two hallways until I came to the Records Room. Using telekinesis, I unlocked the door and entered. After closing the door behind me, I pulled out my tape recorder and turned it on.

(Tape-recorder on)

"I'm in the Records Room now...okay...P-Q-R-S-T...there are four different Thompsons listed...ah, here it is—'Thompson, Jared – Building A, Cell 144....' I see that he had a psychiatric evaluation done on him...and according to the shrink, he was deemed sane and fit for trial. Ah...here's his Inventory Sheet! Apparently, he didn't have anything on his person, other than his clothes....Oh, wait, here's an additional item listed at the bottom of the sheet—it is listed as 'medallion,' with the date of August sixth stamped on the far right; and stamped in red just underneath that, the word 'Lost!'

"So, the pentagram had made it here to the county jail! Perhaps there was a big hush-hush about it—but why? Okay, what else is there.... According to his medical transcripts, he had been to see the doctor four times since his arrival. In each case, he complained of bad headaches, and once, nausea and constipation. The doctor didn't do anything but give him aspirin and some milk of magnesia.... It's possible that Jared swallowed the pentagram to get it through the checkpoint and couldn't poop it out—I bet that would have hurt! I am now going to check into this inventory sheet—magickally—to see if I can discover where the pentagram ended up....

"Okay, I'm seeing myself in the cafeteria, and I've just spotted Jared, sitting down at the table, eating! I can now see the reflection of medal from within Jared's shirt, as the silver reflects off the light in the cafeteria and directly into my eyes! I've just looked down at my feet, and it appears that I am wearing a sheriff's uniform! I can see myself walking toward Jared Thompson and can hear myself speaking."

_Sheriff_ : "Hey, you! What is that?"

_Jared_ : "What is what?"

_Sheriff_ : "That necklace—you know the rules that all metallic items are forbidden to cellmates—hand it over!"

_Jared_ : "No! It's mine!"

_Sheriff_ : "Why, you—Sheriff Richards, this %$#@ cellmate won't relinquish his contraband; give me a hand, will ya?!"

I can see both Sheriff Richards and me grabbing for Jared Thompson...Jared throws a punch in my direction and the lights dim for a moment from the impact of his fist hitting my face...I can now see Jared turning away from me, now defending himself from Sheriff Richards! I can now see my arms and hands reaching for Jared, but Jared turns to avoid my grasp. However, my fingers snag the chain, which snaps open, causing the pentagram to fly out of my range of sight! Sheriff Richards lands on Jared's back, causing him to collapse!

Within seconds, there are three other sheriffs on top of Jared, holding him down and cuffing him. My head begins to turn...it stops when it sees a Mexican man, with two tattoos under his left eye, holding the pentagram in his hand and staring at it—a dark and sinister look crosses his face momentarily!

_Sheriff_ : "Give that to me, Malverez!"

_Malverez_ : "Yes, sir, sheriff, sir..." _Malverez hands the medallion over to 'me,' and 'I' walk over to Jared, observing that his arms and legs are now cuffed, under the supervision of 'my' buddies_.

_Sheriff_ : "You won't be needing this, I presume, Mr. Thompson."

_Jared_ : "No!"

_While the other guards proceed to escort Jared out of the cafeteria, I then proceed to the cellmates' warehouse and sign in the medallion; the yellow copy of the inventory sheet is handed to 'me' and 'I' see the pink copy and the pentagram being deposited into Jared's personals. 'I' then proceed to the records room and deposit the yellow copy there. I am now focusing upon the pink copy of the Inventory Sheet_.

"Okay, I'm back to myself again! I can now see the prisoner with the two teardrop tattoos under his left eye, Malverez, sifting through Jared's personals—somehow, he has gotten through all of the security measures! I can see him grabbing the pentagram from the storage box and...walking through the walls! Oh, oh—time for me to go—some people are on their way over here as I speak. Good thing I got the information I needed...." _Click_

[[Recollections from Death Row—The next morning, I got up around five o'clock and began my morning meditation ritual; after I finished an hour later, I got up to watch the news. I have just pulled up these newspaper articles from the Internet describing the incidents that dealt with me directly:

* * *

Chicago Times

_September 4, 2001 Ed_ **.**

ISRAELI SOLDIERS KILL SIX PALESTINIANS

PALESTINE—Only four months after President Green Jr. took office, he and the United Nations Council proposed a Mutual Peace Treaty between Israel and Palestine over border disputes. The treaty was unanimously voted in, paving the way for the two nations to settle their disputes in a civil manner.

That peace treaty was broken yesterday, however, when Palestinian refugees attempted to cross over into Israeli territory near the Gaza Strip. To thwart their efforts, Israeli soldiers fired upon the unarmed crowd, killing six Palestinian refugees and wounding fourteen others. The Israeli soldiers were unharmed, as the Palestinian refugees could not put up a fight.

Early this morning, the dead Palestinians were escorted through Jerusalem in a funeral procession, where thousands had gathered to mourn their latest casualties. The assembled crowd chanted and demanded justice in the name of Allah, claiming what has rightfully been theirs for the last 1,500 years—the land of Palestine.

In the meantime, the Arab League of Nations, the Nation of Israel, the United Nations, and the Green Administration have been trying to arrange a summit to discuss ways to enforce the original treaty, as tensions continue to run high.

Article written by Nancy Smythe

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

September 4, 2001—Copley Ed.

NOTORIOUS LATIN RULER GANG LEADER ESCAPES MCCURN COUNTY JAIL

Authorities are baffled at the escape of the now at-large Miguel Malverez, 32, from the McCurrn County Correctional Facility yesterday. They are not commenting at this time on how this feat may have been accomplished, given the strict security measures at the facility.

Marshall Timothy Reinford, who was at the scene, had this to report: "We have the situation well under control, and we're confident that, within hours, Miguel Malverez will be apprehended once again. If you see this man, you are advised not to approach him. He is considered armed and dangerous, and if you see him, the safest course of action is to contact the police department."

What makes this man so dangerous is his violent nature, which can be deduced from his criminal record. At age twelve, Miguel Malverez was charged with deadly assault but was only sent to a juvenile correctional facility due to his age. At fourteen, he was charged with rape but was unable to be convicted, due to lack of credible evidence. At fifteen, he was charged with mob action. By this time, he was running with a street gang known as the Latin Rulers. There were no drugs or weapons found at the scene, and he was only charged with a misdemeanor. At age twenty, he was charged with possession of a controlled substance with intent to deliver; the controlled substance in this case was a large amount of cocaine.

That violation was the beginning of what would become an increasingly violent series of crimes. Following the drug charge, he spent the next eight years in the correctional facility, while rising through the ranks of the Latin Rulers. At age twenty-eight, Malverez was released from jail on a technicality. At age twenty-nine, he became the leader of the Latin Rulers of McCurrn following the systematic killings of five F-Gangsters, who were found with AK rounds sprayed throughout their bodies in an empty car lot at 105 S. Turner, in Chicago. After a two-year investigation by the FBI and the McCurrn Police Department, he was finally arrested, without incident. Finally, at age thirty-two, Miguel Malverez has killed another F-Gangster during his escape from the McCurrn County Jail yesterday. The leader of the McCurrn FGs, Clarence

"Bud" Johnson, age 32, was pronounced dead at 2:54 A.M., after having been stabbed by a penetrating weapon called a shank.

Article written by Justine Clemens

* * *

Chicago Times

_September 5, 2001 Ed_ **.**

BARROOM BRAWL IN CLUB LEAVES

ONE PERSON DEAD; OTHERS INJURED

CHICAGO—Inside the gothic club known as the Club Midnight, a fight erupted early this morning between two rival covens. The club is frequented by members of the Starlight Coven, a Wiccan (Witch) organization, whose members promote peace and tranquility with nature.

Around 1:00 A.M., that peace was disrupted when another coven entered the club and began disrupting the patrons. Apparently, the new coven began pushing the patrons and claimed to be Satanists who intended to take over the place. According to witnesses, the members of the new coven each wore an upside-down pentagram around their necks.

At that point, the defending coven's leaders, the "High Priest and Priestess," proceeded to the dance floor and challenged the intruders. According to witnesses, the High Priestess, Cynthia Clemens, ordered the intruders to leave, saying, "This club is our home and our sanctuary...therefore, you must leave!"

As she spoke, witnesses say, a Hispanic man wearing black robes appeared from the crowd of intruders and approached the two. He was described as being approximately 5'11" and approximately 195 lbs., with a shaved head and goatee. A number of witnesses claimed to have seen a strange pattern all around his left eye, traced in black eyeliner. Witnesses say that the High Priest, Jonathon Sparks, then repeated, "You have violated our sacred space! You must all leave of your own volition!"

At that point, the events are unclear, but many witnesses claim to have seen the black-robed man abruptly disappear and then reappear directly in front of Jonathon Sparks; he then apparently stabbed Sparks in the neck with a large knife, killing him instantly. A fight then erupted between the two groups, and witnesses describe many supernatural occurrences at that point, including glowing orbs flying through the air and demons and angels intertwined in battle.

Shortly thereafter, Chicago police arrived. Nine of the Starlight coven are reported injured, in addition to Sparks's death. But there were no Satanists found, as they had mysteriously disappeared before the Chicago police arrived.

Psychological exams and drug tests will be performed on all of the 67 eyewitnesses prior to any further testimony.

Article written by Samantha Tobis

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

_September 7, 2001—Copley Ed_ **.**

TEN SLAIN IN SHOOTOUT

BETWEEN RIVAL GANGS

Eight members of the F-Gangsters and two of the Latin Rulers were slain during a shootout at Lark Avenue and Franklin Road at 10:30 P.M. last night. Authorities feel that the latest deaths represent a continuation of the recent gang war started by Miguel Malverez, the leader of the Latin Rulers (McCurrn). Law enforcement officials are increasingly worried about the escalating violence in McCurrn and have called an emergency meeting this afternoon. Since Miguel Malverez's escape, there have been more than fifteen murders, all of them gang related.

Article written by Thomas Quincy

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

_September 9, 2001—Copley Ed_ **.**

SILENCED SHOTS KILL F-GANGSTER

AND FAMILY

Bullets ripped through a McCurrn house early Sunday morning, killing the family of Oscar Brown, a member of the F-Gangsters. The dead include Oscar Brown, 17; his father Jess Brown, 46; his mother Ethyl, 44; and his younger sister Mishael, 7. All were found shot in the head.

Article written by Thomas Quincy

* * *

Finley Town News

September 9, 2001—Ed.

FIVE WICCANS FOUND DEAD

IN RITUAL ROOM

At 2:04 A.M., Police kicked open the front doors of an apartment on Green Drive in Finley in response to a phone call from a concerned neighbor after she heard screaming through the walls.

Police Chief Gerald Higgins reported the details this afternoon, saying, "There appears to have been a small group of witches, five of them, all found dead inside a circle they had constructed on the floor. Inside the circle, a pentagram was found. The cause of death is unknown at this time."

Article written by Terence Henderson

* * *

Chicago Times

September 11, 2001 Ed.

ISRAEL DECLARES WAR WITH

PALESTINE DESPITE PROTESTS

GENEVA—All attempts at peace between Israel and Palestine appear to be for naught following last night's assassination attempt on Israel's Prime Minister and greatest advocator for peace, Mordecai Shalem. Only seconds after the prime minister left his stretch limousine at Tel Aviv International airport to fly to Rome for another meeting scheduled with the U.N., a car bomb exploded within the limousine, which still carried his wife and two young daughters. Despite the tragic loss of his family, Shalem went before the United Nations this morning, with this to say:

"Since the beginnings of recorded time, the Jews have been trampled on by all of the Gentile leaders. We have always cried for peace, but peace has never been given to us. It is now the twenty-first century, and the nation of Israel cannot, indeed will not, tolerate these acts of violence any longer. Through classified evidence that we are already in possession of, we know exactly who the culprits are behind my family's merciless death. I am in personal mourning, yes, but it would have been no less personal had it been anyone else's family!

"It is clear that Palestine is a nation that advocates terrorism. Their terrorists have been murdering our people for far too long, and they will now be apprehended and punished for their crimes by Israel! Today, I declare war unto Palestine...but with the rest of the world, and unto God, we still cry for peace."

Upon the meeting's conclusion, Israeli tanks and soldiers could be seen parading down the main streets of West Jerusalem. On the eastern side of the city, Palestinian soldiers assembled, corralled all Westerners, and herded them across the western border, threatening them with the promise of immediate execution should they try to cross back over. In the center of the city, fenced in by soldiers on both sides, are only a thousand United Nations peacekeeping soldiers, including three hundred from the United States. More peacekeeping forces are reportedly on their way to battle for peace even during war.

Adding to the mounting tension, signs of a regional war were evident as well, as satellite imagery showed a battalion of Iraqi tanks on the move and rolling northwest from Baghdad. However, Iraq dismissed notions of a regional war. At noon today, on the Iraqi television network, Mohammed Tamir announced, "We the people of Iraq send our deepest sympathy to the nation of Israel and to her Prime Minister for his horrifying loss. As for my forces, they are simply performing routine training exercises. There is absolutely no reason to assume that they are preparing to join any war."

Article written by Nancy Smythe

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

September 13, 2001—Copley Ed.

F-GANGSTERS RAISE WHITE FLAG

Another attack by the Latin Rulers has forced the F-Gangsters of McCurrn to raise their white flags and surrender. When local authorities and the MEPS (Metropolitan Emergency Police Squad) arrived at the scene at 8:35 P.M. last night, they were shocked to find over fifty F-Gangsters dead from a fragmentation grenade that had been tossed into their house. The identity of the assassin is unknown to authorities at this time, but clues point to the Latin Rulers as the perpetrators behind this mass homicide.

Article written by Thomas Quincy

* * *

Chicago Times

September 13, 2001 Ed.

FIGHT ERUPTS IN CLUB MIDNIGHT,

INJURING EIGHT

CHICAGO—Yet another fight erupted at the Club Midnight early this morning. As in a previous incident, a coven of Satanists instigated the fight. From a sketch of the leader made by an eyewitness, it would appear that the man in question would be Miguel Malverez.

Article written by Samantha Tobis

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

September 21, 2001—Copley Ed.

YOUNG WOMAN FOUND MURDERED IN HER HOME

At 1:30 this morning, local authorities were dispatched to 321 Manor Rd. Apt. A in McCurrn, after receiving a 911 phone call from a concerned neighbor that she had heard the sounds of screaming only a minute or so earlier.

When the police arrived only minutes after the phone call, they found Cheryl Mathis's front door wide open and her lying on the floor in her bedroom—dead. They refused to answer any questions, other than the fact that she had been ritualistically murdered.

Article written by Victor Roberts

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

September 22, 2001—Copley Ed.

LATIN RULER, MIGUEL MALVEREZ,

FOUND DEAD IN SCHOOL

It was just another day for McCurrn Central High School's gym teacher, Charles Jenkins, as he entered the boys' locker room yesterday. All of that changed, however, as he entered the shower room and found the chopped up remains of a corpse spread throughout the room. Jenkins called the authorities immediately. School was called off for the day, so that investigators could proceed without interruptions.

Later in the afternoon, the corpse was finally identified as that of Miguel Malverez, the leader of the Latin Rulers. Further details of his death have not been revealed, however, in order to avoid retaliation by gang or Wiccan members.

Article Written by Justine Clemens

* * *

[Magickal Journal—9/22]

Okay...my first comment will be stating that I finally have the pentagram in my possession! After nearly three weeks of tracking Miguel Malverez's whereabouts, I finally got my lucky break! Although I would have preferred to swoop in and take the medallion by stealth, thus stripping him of his powers, he sensed my presence as I silently approached him in the locker room.

Immediately, he launched an impressive attack using his magickal weaponry—lightning orbs, fireballs, and demons from other realms—but my magickal defenses were stronger, and it didn't take me long to find an opening and to slay him in a fashion that he truly deserved!

Though I have not physically touched it, I can feel the overwhelming evil that exists within this medallion! I have stored it in a magickal black velvet bag with a protection spell on it, to dampen its intensity. Tomorrow morning, I fly to the U.K. to show it to the Order, so that it may be properly destroyed; and hopefully, once it is, Vicky and the other stolen souls will be released.

Wow, I can still feel the evil power emanating from my magickal bag, despite the protection spell that I have cast over it! No wonder Miguel and Jared became the beasts that they were! I keep getting goose bumps all over my arms and legs....

Man! The power is intense!"

[Magickal Journal—9/23]

Upon my arrival at the OSS Headquarters near London, I was greeted by Bryan, his father, my former proctor, and five members of the Council of Elders whom I had never seen before. All of them seemed quite anxious to see me! As I glanced again at Bryan, I noticed that he didn't look good at all—he appeared to be just skin and bones, as he had lost much of his muscle mass, and his eyes were sunken into darkened lids from a lack of sleep. We threw smiles at one another but had time for only a quick, "Hi." After a brief introduction to the Elders whom I had not known previously, we entered the estate—it was one of the most beautiful palaces I had ever seen!

Ivy clung to the white brick outside; inside, the floors, the walls, and even the handrails leading up the stairs were made completely of mahogany! We walked through the giant double doors from the foyer into a large chamber, presumably the study, and I looked around, awestruck.

Upon the walls, from the floor to the ceiling, were countless books, all neatly stacked upon spaced shelves. And near the center of this great chamber were three large couches, forming a triangle; the couches had a green ivy pattern embroidered into the white cloth, just like the pattern on the outside of the manor. And in the center of the couches was a black glass table, also triangular in shape.

After we took our seats, I glanced around the room for a moment and noticed that in between the shelves, there were four windows on the eastern wall of the study. Upon the windows hung curtains made of the same cloth material as the couches. The curtains allowed a small amount of light to enter, but not enough to reach the western wall of the impressive chamber. Instead of windows on the western wall, there were four antique bulb lamps to provide light to the darker part of the room, and this gave the room an aetheric glow!

I next redirected my attention to the Council of Elders, now seated around me. Still, they were silent, as if waiting for me to begin the conversation. I started my speech by saying, "Masters and Mistresses, I have in my possession the very pentagram used by the Solstice Slayers—Jared Thompson and, later, Miguel Malverez...."

I then opened my small travel bag and displayed the special box to them, saying, "Inside this magickal box is the symbol of their power—but that power is not their own. It rests upon the unrest of countless souls, including Vicky Versuvio. We need to release these souls before we destroy this pentagram." At first, they only stared at the magickal box, and then at me.

One of the Elders challenged, "Souls, you say? How do we know that you know of what you speak? Since your entry to the Order, you have remained almost completely silent! Very few reports of your progress have been given to your mentor, and we know very little of you. Now, after only an eight-month stay in the Orient to become this supposed 'hero,' you come back to us making wild claims about not one but _two_ serial killers on the loose, perverting our esoteric sciences and stealing innocent souls! I feel no souls in agony! In fact, I feel nothing...."

Looking around at the Council members seated silently around us, and then back at me, the Elder concluded, with a sneer on his face, "Open the box...'Master!'"

Bryan could no longer contain himself and blurted out, "Father! Three things: First, Jeb is an official member of the OSS; second, we are best friends; and third, he loves Vicky just as much as I do. Please show him some respect—he certainly has earned it!"

As he spoke these words, I mentally chanted the Serpent's Prayer, calming myself and listening intently. After Bryan had finished, I asked in a perfectly controlled voice, "You do not believe me because you think I am...a charlatan?"

Another of the Elders, a female, answered for my accuser. "Yes, I agree with Master Airamas—I feel nothing as well. All members are expected to report regularly to their superiors as to their accomplishments, but you have done none of this! And after a short disappearance, you come back already acting like a Master yourself! Give us reason to believe in your words, for we are all Masters here in one form or another, aren't we?"

I attempted to erase their skepticism by informing them, "The reason that you do not feel anything is because I have placed a protection spell on the box, and it has been inscribed with the Seal of Jupiter on the top and bottom. Within the box itself, there is a bag with an upright pentagram inscribed on it. In total, there are two different protection spells that have been placed over the pentagram to prevent it from consuming me, or anyone else, for that matter—that is why you do not feel anything! If I remove the pentagram, the results could be disas—"

The Ipssissimus nodded his head and raised his arm to silence me, interjecting, "Yes, yes...but go ahead and open it—in one form or another, we are all Masters here."

Nodding my head, I answered, "As you wish, Ipssissimus Master!" Unlatching the box, I opened it, revealing the contents of the box.

It was like opening a time bomb! The negative energy that had collected within the box was suddenly released, and the evil surged from within. Goose bumps erupted all over my body and I could feel the power surging through me. And then, I began to feel the will of the pentagram as it attempted to overrun my mind with evil temptations. I could see strange, fearful expressions crossing the Elders' faces, even the Ipssissimus, yet I could also see myself ruling over the OSS, the entire earth, perhaps even the heavens! With my compassion for humanity as my only ally, I shut the cover to the box and stared at the Elders around me. "This thing needs to be destroyed! Now do you believe me?" They all nodded their heads but said nothing.

Our Master Ipssissimus finally spoke. "Excellent work, Frater AL-Hati.... You have done well for yourself and for the Order! Are you ready to truly 'become' and to risk losing your sanity in the process?"

"Yes...I am!" I answered confidently.

Glancing at his colleagues on either side of him, he then ordered, "Frater Kenthia, take the box from Frater AL-Hati—he shall be its destroyer...after he has become its master!" I was then ordered to return to my room to cleanse myself and to don the ceremonial robes provided for me. The Master Ipssissimus's final comment to me was, "Prepare yourself for the ascension, Frater."

After I was duly prepared and blindfolded, I was then led into the ceremonial chambers. An unfamiliar voice stated, "Tell us what you see before you." At first I saw nothing. Moments passed, and within my mind's eye, an ancient and mysterious gold coin surfaced. After revealing what I saw, I felt a strange sensation and was abruptly yanked from my body into another dimension—a dimension beyond dimensions! Words fail to describe what I saw and experienced, even now. Following my trip through the Abyss of the Transformation, I knew without anyone having to tell me that I was indeed a Master of the Order of the Secret Serpent! A very familiar voice then said, "Now, remove your blindfold—and see, oh Master!"

It was Bryan's voice! I was ecstatic to know that he had attended the ritual, and as I removed the blindfold, a smile formed upon my lips.

"Soon, my brother," I said with a tender smile, "You shall have your peace...and your love!" I then commanded that the box be brought forth. Our Master Ipssissimus, who had ordained the ceremony, looked around, along with the others in attendance, and the look of expectation in their faces turned to surprise—Frater Kenthia, the Elder who had been given the box for safekeeping, had not attended the ritual! I tried to suppress my alarm but asked in a tense voice, "Where is the box, and where is Frater Kenthia?"

Our Master Ipssissimus thought for a moment and then said, turning to me, "Why don't you use your powers of vision to find him, Temple Master?" I closed my eyes and focused upon the image of Frater Kenthia.

After a few moments, I saw him in my mind, his body crumpled on the floor next to a bed! I focused more intensely and was shocked to find a pool of blood oozing from underneath his ceremonial robe and staining the mahogany floor—his eyes were wide open but unblinking! As I didn't see the pentagram upon his person, I attempted to focus upon it to discover its whereabouts, but for some odd reason, I was blocked from seeing it.

I then opened my eyes, looked at our Master Ipssissimus, and answered, "He is in his bedroom, sir, and he appears to be dead—let's go!"

When we arrived at his bedroom door, ten minutes later, I raised my hand and stated, "Let me enter first, alone." I then proceeded to enter the room, with the Order waiting outside. The magickal box that had contained the pentagram was lying next to the Elder's body.

Kneeling beside the corpse and moving the folds of his robes, I noted that he had been stabbed with a weapon, probably a dagger, and his expression indicated that he had seen the attacker shortly before his death—his mouth was twisted in pain and his eyes were frozen wide in fear; but his eyeballs appeared sunken, and his face hollow, and I realized that the man's soul had been consumed like the others! Looking over my shoulder, I stated, "His soul has been taken by the new Slayer!" I could hear the Elders murmuring in shock and wonder.

Bryan then spoke abruptly. "We must find the pentagram immediately, so that no more lives are lost!" As I looked up at Bryan, I noticed that his outburst had triggered an involuntary response—a glare of absolute hatred—from his father, who stood directly behind him, facing me. This expression went unnoticed by the others, as all were looking at either Frater Kenthia or at Bryan. As I glanced back at the body, I noticed that goose bumps had mysteriously covered my arms and legs. I realized that the source of this disturbance was Mr. White himself; and then I realized the familiarity of that expression—it had been etched into my conscience from the first time that I had met the man at the White Mansion! But when I glanced back up to confirm it, he had regained his usual poker face, betraying nothing.

I returned my focus to the matter at hand. Placing my index fingers upon his temples and my pinkies upon his cheeks, I focused once again on Frater Kenthia. I took a few deep breaths and relaxed my mind, attempting to see the Elder's last moments. Despite my best efforts, however, I could see nothing. I felt as though I was being blocked by a transparent wall and couldn't see through to the other side.

"Damn!" I hissed aloud. "I can see nothing!" Opening my eyes, I stood up and faced the Order. "The Solstice Slayer's power has grown considerably since consuming Frater Kenthia's soul."

Master Ipssissimus spoke slowly, "If the Solstice Slayer has this much power, perhaps it would be wise to have Frater Andreta attempt your failed feat, Frater AL-Shalom?" I stared at the Master Ipssissimus, searching for any sign of attack upon me, but saw nothing. I nodded my head and stood to the side.

A large man with a short, stubbly beard stood out from the crowd of onlookers; his thin robes did little to conceal his massive, muscular frame. His eyes met mine and remained as unreadable as Master Ipssissimus's. I nodded my head at him in greeting, and he returned the gesture and then turned to face Master Ipssissimus.

"Ipssissimus Master, it would be a privilege!" he exclaimed boldly. Master Ipssissimus then nodded his head, and Frater Andreta then turned toward the dead Elder's body and stopped. He then assumed a stance of such control and grace as only a skilled martial artist would know—though I had never seen this particular technique before—his right ankle raised and intersecting his left knee; the palms of his hands opposed and his thumbs joined; his middle fingers crossed over his index fingers and his ring and pinky fingers crossed likewise.

He then closed his eyes and began to breathe deeply, and then shallower, until his body became completely motionless for six minutes. We watched him intensely, with no one saying a word. After the six minutes were up, his left leg relaxed and his body moved toward the floor, collapsing gracefully into the lotus position before the body of Frater Kenthia. With his eyes closed, he extended his hands over the corpse and began to move them up and down the center of the Elder's body. As he did this, he began to hum in a deep voice. After one minute, his hands abruptly stopped over the man's head—when contact was finally made, his humming stopped.

He then opened his eyes and, turning his head toward Master Ipssissimus, reported his findings. "Ipssissimus Master, while I was in the astral plane, I could see all of the room's occupants and their energy levels. I could also see that Frater Kenthia has a strange residue that coats the surface of his body—Frater AL-Shalom is correct that there is a blockage—but I found something else that was interesting! Within personal energy, there can be found patterns, similar to what we would see by looking at our DNA. Well, I did find corresponding patterns between the energy of the residue on Frater Kenthia's body and that of Master AL-Shalom...."

All heads turned toward me at Frater Andreta's pause; he then continued, "They are the complete opposite of each other, like the yin and the yang!" The Elders glanced at one another in confusion. I looked at Mr. White and saw that his eyes were focused on Frater Andreta.

Our Master Ipssissimus finally broke the confused silence and stated, "Let us commence with our search for the pentagram...."

Of course, the pentagram was nowhere to be found, despite our extensive searching of the headquarters. The next morning, as I prepared to return to the United States, Master Ipssissimus approached me just before I entered the limousine.

"Do not worry, Jeb," he said. "Though others in the Council are speculating, I know that you are not the killer..... I also know that you shall handle the situation appropriately to ensure both justice and peace. I am aware that you care deeply for those around you, and for that, I applaud you!"

"Thank you, sir—I do care! So long as my friends' lives and souls are suffering, I will not rest in my mission to stop the Solstice Slayer—this, I swear! Because I care, I have learned to see suffering everywhere.... Oh, sir?"

Looking at me strangely, he asked, "Yes?"

"Sir, I can even see the pain and suffering within you, and you have my sincere condolences for your recent losses! I wish there was some way I could help you...."

For a moment, he nodded his head with a thoughtful expression on his face, but said nothing. Instead, he extended his hand out to me, to which I clasped. After still another moment of silence, while still holding my hand, he then added somewhat strangely, "You already have, my boy, you already have..." I didn't ask what he meant, but released his hand, and entered the limo. He shut the door to the limo and waved farewell. As the limousine began to move, I could hear his voice through the partially open window, saying, "Destroy the Solstice Slayer...and then you shall truly be called Magus!"

[Magickal Journal—9/24]

Here is an semi-important newspaper article from today:

* * *

Naperbrook Special Newspaper

September 25, 2001—Copley Ed.

SEVEN SATANISTS FOUND DEAD

IN NAPERBROOK HOME

The remaining members of Miguel Malverez's Satanic cult, their official name being the Avenging Solstites, were found dead late this morning by the Naperbrook Police department.

After hearing strange screams from within the house around ten o'clock in the morning, an elderly woman living across the street called the Naperbrook Police department. Within minutes, a squad car appeared at the scene and two patrolmen proceeded to search the place. What they discovered surprised them—in the front living room, they found the cult members lying within a circle on the floor. Around the circle, black candles had been placed to represent the four directions—north, south, east, and west.

More puzzling to law enforcement officials, however, is that there is no obvious cause of death. According to the deputy officer on the scene, the eyes of the victims were wide open and their faces contorted into terrified expressions, but there were no signs of physical injury. The bodies are being tested for drugs.

Article written by Hope Young

* * *

By the way, I had nothing to do with this....

[Magickal Journal—9/29]

It seems that this world is still finally falling apart, just at the beginning of the new millennium! Everywhere can be found the signs—wars between nations, between Israelis and Arabs, between Wiccans and Satanists, between the different gangs on our streets; plagues, in the form of AIDS and other infectious diseases; natural disasters such as earthquakes, hurricanes, tornadoes, typhoons, and global warming; and murders of all types, whether homicides or genocide, whether at the hands of psychotic perverts like Terry Brummer, psychotic bombardiers like Allen Jansen, or psychotic dictators like Mohammed Tamir!

I have spent much time studying the history of humankind, as well as keeping a close eye on current affairs, so that I may find the best solution to this ever-growing crisis...but it seems that I am not the only one going about this process. Henry Cole— _the_ Henry Cole, author of the book _The Day of Judgment_ , a former occultist turned Christian zealot—has decided to take on Washington D.C., according to _The Morning Light_ , a Christian news magazine, and to deal with the problems of the world directly by preaching to its citizens on cable television. It seems that his words are having a major impact on otherwise unsuspecting Christians, and they are joining him in large numbers in his cause against the "hidden enemies" of the world.

When _The Morning Light_ journalist questioned Henry on his cause, here was his response: "I have been given the key to the new millennium personally from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ! The Beast and the Antichrist have already arisen from the sea but have not reached their assigned power positions as of yet. Proof of my words lies in the signs of the times. The first half of the seven-year Tribulation officially began upon the Summer Solstice, a satanic holiday, June 21st, 1999. The Tribulation that I refer to is broken down to equal time spans of three and a half years, and there is a positive phase and a negative phase to this crisis. During the positive phase, the New World Order launches itself as a forceful symbol of peace.

"When that peace does not come, the Beast then takes his stand, declaring himself to be God, the Antichrist! This is where many of our Christian brothers and sisters will die because of their lack of true faith, ultimately leading to the end of the world. But Satan will not win because he is truly divided against himself, as you can see from his empire, which is already falling apart! It is exactly as Revelations had forecast a little less than 2,000 years ago—but why give us this dismal forecast to our future?

"Because this is where the answer lies: Jesus has already won! He has already taken the keys of death from Satan and revealed to us our potential future...and it is in His name that we stop those not under His name! And it is through the Book of Revelations, given to us by God, through the Apostle John, that we know the signs of the times and prevent them from taking over! Well, just who are those and them? Simple! The Beast is former President Palton, a gay advocate and abortion supporter, now petitioning to become the next President of the United Nations! Stop the immoral Palton from taking office and we shall persevere! Prevent the New World Order from establishing their position and we shall overcome!"

Well, he went on and on with that sort of stuff in his interview, and it just reminded me of how important it is for me to keep abreast of maniacs like Henry Cole, so that I may one day oppose him, if need be, in my quest for world peace! After all, didn't Jesus Christ both practice and preach, "Love one another as I have loved you?"

[Magickal Journal—9/30]

Well, war has been officially declared between the Wiccans and the Satanists, although their underlying battle has been ongoing for some time now. My next mission is to get in contact with their leaders individually, and to then bring them together—but I am not going to use conventional methods! I know the names of the primary leaders from the newspapers, but I don't know what they look like...I am not sure of the effectiveness of my clairvoyant skills in the absence of a visible picture of these people—but what do I have to lose?

[Magickal Journal—9/30]

All right, I'm back..... Let me recap my psychic conversation with Cynthia Clemens, the High Priestess, first. In order to find her, I took some deep breaths, focused on her name alone, and within a minute's time, I was psychically teleported to her in a greenhouse!

She was currently walking down the aisle, while holding a porcelain flowerpot with a dozen yellow tulips planted inside...thankfully no one else was around, at least for the moment.

"Greetings, Cynthia!" I greeted. Luckily, she was able to shift her focus into the psychic realm very easily, as she is a Wiccan after all, and she stopped in her tracks only three feet away from where I stood.

"Who—who are you?" she asked, rather startled at seeing a ghostly entity in the middle of the day.

"I am Frater AL-Shalom—a messenger!"

"What is your message then, Frater?" she asked, skeptically.

"My message is simple, Cynthia—do not fight the Satanists anymore, for there is no need! Now you must focus on peace.'

"And who exactly sent this message?"

"The creators...."

She shot me an angry look, before answering, "Oh, yeah? Who are these 'creators,' exactly?"

"I've been forbidden by them to answer that question, but here is what I was told to say: When you were very young, your mother had a special nickname for you...a name that only the two of you knew, before her untimely death of cancer. Brigid is that name!"

Her skin immediately turned white and her fingers began to shake. The flowerpot dropped from her grasp and began to fall to the floor, but with a willed thought, I caught the flowerpot and levitated it in the air!

Catching her breath, she reached out her hand slowly, feeling all around the flowerpot—I was actually impressed that she could function in both the material world, as she focused on the flowerpot, and the psychic world, as she glanced back at me periodically; her face showed disbelief while her hands moved around the flowerpot, checking for hidden wires!

Without waiting for her to speak, I declared, "Establish peace within yourself and around you, and the war will stop."

Her face turned sorrowful and she then cried, "Why? Why are these hate crimes happening yet again to our people? Why do they want to disrupt our way of life?"

"Cynthia, all is not as it seems—for in order to establish true peace, one must learn from war—I will contact you when I have the peace negotiations set...but be content for now! All will be fine until then...I promise. Blessed be, Cynthia."

"I will consider your words, Frater....blessed be."

Okay, I was thrilled with this initial success, and now it was Luvias Black's—the Chicago Headmaster of the Temple of Satan—turn. I quickly focused on his name, and within a minute's time again, he came into view inside a large and luxurious house—and I was stunned to find out who he is!

Luvias Black is the huge guy who knocked me down in Chicago on that homeless night so long ago! He sensed my presence, and he didn't seem happy at all about the intrusion.

Turning to face me, he screamed aloud, "Who in the nine planes of Hell are you?"

"I am Frater AL-Shalom, a messenger!" His response wasn't nearly as patient as Cynthia's—within a second's time, a dagger that he had hidden in his boot was thrown at me! Again, with only a thought, I was able to stop this material dagger in mid-flight and hold it suspended in mid-air! Without waiting for him to respond, I said, "My message is simple, Luvias—do not fight the Wiccans anymore, for there is no need!"

His face contorting into a rage, Luvias began to chant. Before he could finish his incantation, I performed a sign for him—and until that very moment, he probably didn't have the slightest clue as to who I was! As during our first encounter, I placed my feet at a 45-degree angle to each other and clapped my hands together while reciting the Serpent's Prayer.

"You!" he exclaimed. With another thought, I released my mental grip on the dagger, and it fell and stuck into the floor.

"Yes...it's me...and I will be back to inform you of the scheduled date for the peace negotiations that are already in the works between the Satanists and the Wiccans."

"But my people are being ritually slain by these barbarians...to date I have sixteen dead! Why should we stop killing them?" Luvias hissed.

"Neither your group nor theirs started this war—it was started by a third group that I'd like to talk about when we schedule our peace-oriented meeting in the nearby future. In the meantime, please, let's postpone the killing and the war."

"If any more of my—"

"People die or get hurt...I know, I know...trust me, they won't! I have already communicated with the Wiccan representative of Chicago, and she has agreed to our peace talks. I will contact you when I have the time and place for the meeting.... Ave, Luvias!"

"Ave, Frater AL-Shalom!" Luvias said, still in a state of disbelief. He then returned my gestures and uttered the same words as he did the first time we met—this time, of course, I knew what he said, as there are no language barriers in the astral plane. He spoke in Aramaic, saying, "And so we are the makers of our destiny for all eternity!"

[Magickal Journal—10/02]

The time for the meeting has been set for the 1st of November between Luvias Black, Cynthia Clemens, and me. I have received assurances that there will be no conflicts between the Wiccans and the Satanists for the remainder of the month, and that is why I decided to let a month pass before the negotiations—it will give them all a chance to relax and settle down all the ruffled feathers. And the place for the peace talks? My home! I have a bit of preparing to do before my guests arrive...gotta go."

[Magickal Journal—11/02]

It is time to inform the Order of my success with last night's negotiations. At 8 P.M., both of my guests arrived on time. Cynthia and Luvias both wore black attire, but Cynthia was swallowed up by the enormity of Luvias! Despite the difference in size, however, she didn't appear to be intimidated in the least.

When they arrived, they greeted me politely, but to each other, there was only a slight nodding of their heads. As I led them into my home, I told them to get comfortable while I headed to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine and three glasses.

I used the discipline of a diplomat for the rest of the evening, as the wine helped to soften our spirits and the food filled the voids in our physical bodies—I told them about the Solstice Slayer, of who's obviously trying to break the occult world up for his own sinister purposes, which is to rule over the world. For the most part, our conversation was spirited and very productive, as we listened to each others' perspectives.

At 11:30 P.M., I asked them to stay overnight. They agreed, and I asked them if I could show them something. I led them to my ritual room, where I kept my "peace pipe." They looked at each other, and then at me. Luvias spoke first.

"Jeb...I think I know what you have in mind, and I like it! You are truly my kind of guy!"

Cynthia chimed in at that point. "Yes...you know, after we last spoke on the phone, I purchased your book—I wanted to know what type of person you are, and I figured I would find out from your work—very impressive!" She laughed.

Luvias looked at her strangely for a second and then joined in the laugher. He admitted, "You know, I did the exact same thing—you should have it made into a movie!"

I then laughed myself and added, "I will! But for now, can we make our peace official?"

Both stopped laughing for a moment and glanced at each other—for a moment, tension began to fill the room—but they brought me great relief by breaking out into wide smiles and nodding at me in unison.

"Yes, we can!" With that, we all laughed and I shut the door behind us.

[Magickal Journal—11/11]

I have been chosen for yet another task by the Order! This mission has been labeled TOP SECRET, and I can say no more about it, not even in my journal....

What I can say is that I'm quite flattered and inspired by the fact that the Order has chosen to place their trust in me. But despite my growing success in life, there is one task at which I have still failed—to find and annihilate the Solstice Slayer!

Last night, I had a nightmare, one that I could not stop, despite all my powers: At first, everything was pitch-black and I could see nothing, but after my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see several beams of light cross my view. Demonic whispers begin to fill the void, but I was unafraid!

I then realized that the beams of light were being reflected from a metallic disc-shaped surface. As it came closer to me, I could see through the mystifying darkness that the whole of the disk was not actually shiny but dull in many places. The reflections actually came from the eight Hebraic letters inscribed on its surface—a letter outside each of the points of a downward-pointed pentagram, and three more letters that formed a pyramid within the center—the Hebraic name of the demon, Choronzon. The face of Baphomet, the goat-headed god, could also be seen—the Slayer's pentagram!

Joining the whispers, hollow laughter rang throughout the chamber...the sphere stopped turning, and I could see small flames erupting from the sides of the medallion.... As the flames began to rise higher, I could feel the temperature rising! The smell of sulfur wafted past my nose, and then that of hair. When I looked down, I noticed that I could see my own body, naked and vulnerable!

The torrential sounds of screaming then joined the hellish scene developing around me, but I was still unafraid. As I looked back up, I was startled to find that the pentagram had not been enveloped by the flames but by something else that could only be described as darker than the surrounding darkness.

Finally, fear began to grow within me as I realized that this "darkness" was actually a sinister being that was about fifty times my own size! And behind it, legions and legions of demons could be seen, hissing and roaring!

For a short time, the dark figure said not a word—neither did I. Finally, it proclaimed with the voice of a monstrous beast, "I am the Master now!" In a flash of light, the demons and the figure disappeared—but the scenery around me didn't. I felt a tugging sensation, and I suddenly began to fall toward the pentagram and what appeared to be all of Hell behind it!

That was when I woke up, screaming, with cold sweat all over my body. I felt that I had dreamt this before, but I had never remembered the dreams previously until just now. At least this dream is now recorded, for re-examination at a later date! I don't have time to analyze it now because I have my personal goals and the greater goals to tend to.

My personal goal, of course, involves destroying the Solstice Slayer once and for all. But the greater goals must be served first—because that is what the Order has asked me to do—and so I shall! Upon my return from Rome, however, I shall finally tend to my personal goal once and for all! Nobody can stop me then.

[Magickal Journal—11/15]

The Arab-Israeli peace talks have finally come to a peaceful resolution, with both sides finally getting what they really wanted! It felt great to be a part of the world-leaders negotiations—after all, it sure is easy to establish peace when you can read minds and hearts! As a result of this fortuitous turn of events, I am no longer an unknown entity—I am now a public hero!

Upon my return home yesterday, as I disembarked from the plane, a dozen different TV cameras and journalists immediately surrounded me! I laughed at the sight of them crowding around to question me all at once, which also caused a bit of chaos in my energy field—it's fortunate that I was able to get a recording of it on the news—but just as both Barry Lugers and the Master Ipssissimus had done, I held my arms out and brought them down slowly...and eventually, silence reigned in the terminal.

A reporter finally gained the temerity to ask a question: "Can you give us any specifics of the peace talks, Mr. Maruso?"

"Initially, when I was called to this task," I stated, smiling, "my mission was classified as top secret—but I broke that rule soon after the talks, as I believe that the world should know of our discussions! They should witness firsthand what their leaders have to say when discussing foreign policy with other world leaders....

"We are, after all, in the twenty-first century, and it is time that we begin to evolve as a race—as equals! We should no longer judge others based on their race or religion, their sex or their sexual orientation, or their richness or poorness! And neither should politics be based on these factors—for it is time to think progressive as a human race! This is how I came up with the idea for the 21st century peace plan...

"As for the rest, you already know everything that has transpired. If not, you can read about it in the papers or watch it on the news. Thank you...."

After I got home, it took me more than an hour to listen to all of the different phone messages on my answering machine! Among them were at least three-dozen requests to go on TV and radio talk shows to give an exclusive account of the negotiations in Rome. I even got an invitation to appear on the Harold Wizner Show! I had only seen that show once before, and it was when the host was questioning former President Green Sr. during his campaigning days. Harold had seemed impressed by Green Sr.'s answers and ended up endorsing the man for President—I wonder if he was also the person most responsible for helping land Green _Junior_ in his position as Commander in Chief?

Perhaps that is what Harold wants to do—perhaps he wants to establish another hero as a future world leader! Perhaps the world wishes to make _me_ its new leader? Would I accept? No. I just want to relax on my boat for a long, long, long while, after I've rid the world of the Solstice Slayer.

[Magickal Journal—11/22]

No luck in tracking the Slayer down...on any realm. Very disgruntling! Grrrrr....

In other semi-similar news, I think I made a faux pas by agreeing to go on the Harold Wizner Show! He didn't want to make me a hero—he wanted to make me look like a fool, or perhaps a madman!

After the live-audience taping began, Harold started off by asking basic questions about my personal life, the "get to know you" type of questions. I answered all of his questions, including the fact my brother and I were orphaned at a young age.

He abruptly switched the subject, mentioning that he was very impressed by the slew of accomplishments that I have achieved at such an early age, especially _The Dragon's Realm_. He asked me where I had received my inspiration to write, in which I answered that I've wanted to be a writer shortly before my parents' demise, and then he asked me whether it was a higher power that had perhaps been the source of my inspiration all along.

When I answered in the affirmative, he proceeded to grill me on my religious beliefs! First, he asked me to classify myself—what exactly am I?

Remaining calm, I answered: "A 21st century transcendentalist." He had obviously done some research into my background, based on the questions he asked and the inferences that he made from my answers. I also noted that, as I answered his questions, his face bore a look of increasing disgust! That, and his negative energy, made me realize that he was about to grill me.

He immediately started to dig into me by bringing up a very tense subject—he asked me whether I had noticed that there were a lot of similarities between _The Dragon's Realm_ and the Solstice Slayings. Of course, though I was slowly becoming agitated by the man for some unknown reason, I kept perfect control of my responses; for this, my breathing techniques came in quite handy, as did the Serpent's Prayer.

Finally, he asked me the question he'd been waiting to ask all along, "There's a dark rumor going around that you worship Satan, and that this being is the source of your inspiration...which in turn inspired the Solstice Slayer to become a killer in the first place. Is this true?"

His needling got the best of me, and I lost my cool, replying with ruffled feathers, "I don't know where you get your information, Harold, but I have never heard anything so absurd in my whole life! No, I do not worship Satan, and no, he was not my inspiration to become a writer...God is. As for my book, it was solely intended to be an enjoyable piece of fiction for people to enjoy. I can't help it if there's some sick whacko out there who took my book to heart...."

Although I gave a short pause at this point to catch my breath, and Harold was about to ask me another question that was probably assaultive, I pointed my finger up in the air and added, "If the rest of this interview continues this way, with an assault on my spirituality and my character, then I shall be forced to take leave of this interrogation session...."

"Why would you classify this as an interrogation, Mr. Maruso?"

Now sounding angry, I answered, "From your line of questions, Mr. Wizner. Now I am a person with a strong character and an even stronger belief system in the human race, and in God Almighty! I also have a very upstanding reputation, which I refuse to tarnish by participating in this kind of discussion any further! Again, I don't know where you get your information, but I can assure you that it is 100% false!"

He then backed off, replying sincerely, "Okay, Mr. Maruso...I'm sorry I offended you."

As his negative energy had totally dissipated, he abruptly switched the subject to my involvement with the Middle East negotiations in Rome and to my Twenty-first Century Progressive Peace Plan. He then congratulated me on my insightful and now-validated strategy for a better future for us all!

I thanked him...and then I switched the subject, making several comments about my second book, which was drawing very near to completion. I mentioned that the editors and I had already completed everything, and that the book-cover designers and I were corresponding by e-mail, finalizing the design. Actually, it was then that I accidentally revealed the name for my second manuscript: _The Mage's Tears_!

He said he looked forward to reading it, just before thanking me for being on the show, mentioning who his next celebrity guest was, and concluding that it was time for a commercial break.

Overall, I held my own on the show, and I appreciated the exposure. Still, that S.O.B. thought he could get the best of me! I can't wait to hear his comments when my next book triples in sales from my first! Ooh, how wrong he was to cross a Master—that's how we get fueled up!

[Magickal Journal—11/31]

Dismally, I have had no success in locating the stolen pentagram or in discovering the mastermind behind the Solstice Slayings. The only positive thing to report is that there have been no other murders...yet!

[[Recollections from Death Row—If you should desire to learn of the rest of my horrifying crimes against humanity, you may easily look up my name on the Internet—Jeb Arthur Maruso, the Solstice Slayer!

I have eleven different Web sites dedicated to my tarnished name, and it should be quite easy for you to find out more about my crimes, if you wish! But I am running out of time, and what I'm about to reveal to you is the real rest of the story! The part you didn't hear from the authorities, or from the witnesses, or from anyone else, for that matter.

On December 20, 2001, the day before the Order's Holy Day, Bryan's own condition took a sudden turn for the worse, and he was admitted to St. Mary's Hospital. Mentally, physically, and magically, he had become very weak, and this became obvious to everyone within the Order. Initially, I thought that perhaps the Solstice Slayer had poisoned him, too; but I wondered how both Vicky and Bryan could have been poisoned while I had been spared—unless I had also been poisoned but had simply become much stronger than my friends by then!

I was particularly spooked by Bryan's father, Anthony—I knew that he hadn't liked me from the beginning, but now, with his ultimate dream that his son would rule the Order dwindling away, I had become his nemesis! Through my powers of meditation and clairaudience, I came to know that Frater Airamas, a.k.a. Anthony White, had decided to call an emergency meeting with the Order upon the very date that Bryan was admitted to the hospital—and without me to defend myself. He directly accused me of being a liar and, ultimately, the killer! Through my powers of meditation and hindsight, I saw the exact events that transpired.

At first, the Order didn't believe him until he led them into a room at his house and displayed his "proof" to them. Upon the table lay several knives wrapped in plastic bags and splattered with blood; also on display were a dozen diskettes, a tape player (with cassettes), and various notes of mine!

He convinced them with these words: "These items are the proof of my accusation! I had them all secretly removed from his house this morning while he was away. He does not know that I have these in my possession. I have not presented them to the authorities yet, as he still is an official Master within our sacred Order, but it is my solemn duty to report them to you first! Here is the proof, so that you may inspect them for validity...but be careful not to touch them—we do not wish to have the evidence tampered with and to perhaps become unusable in trial!" He then proceeded to address the items, one by one.

"These weapons were used by Jeb Maruso during his killing sprees. Two of the blood samples thus far have been positively identified—the blood of Nina Juarez and Frater Kenthia! In addition, his fingerprints can be found all over the weapons.....

"On these two computer disks are the thoughts of Jeb Maruso, which he called _The Black Journals_. These journals vividly describe the motives, the plans, and the recollections of each and every murder that he committed in cold blood—and his ultimate plan to murder a grand total of three hundred and thirty-three people in 3 ½ years!"

Before he could go any further, Frater Andreta walked calmly over to him and stood face to face with the man. The air in the room dropped ten degrees as the two men faced each other!

Finally, Frater Andreta said under his breath, "Frater Airamas, Frater AL-Shalom seems to be in quite a dilemma if your story rings true..."

"Are you trying to accuse me of something, brother?" Frater Airamas responded with a mixture of hostility and defensiveness. "I would remind you that when you were but a child, still swathed in diapers, I was already a Master—show me respect, Temple-Master!" Frater Andreta did not back off.

"Frater Andreta," our Master Ipssissimus interjected, "there are better ways of finding a proper resolution to the matter at hand than to challenge a Magus without proof." Frater Andreta turned to face our Master Ipssissimus and assumed the student position.

"Ipssissimus Master, it is important that I reveal my feelings on the matter. I know Frater AL-Shalom—not personally, or before he "became," but from my one encounter with our brother—and you know what, Master? The look in his eyes when he saw Frater Kenthia's body proved to me that he was innocent—he was even more abhorred and angry than we were! And my energy analysis confirmed that he could not have possibly killed anyone, not to mention stole their souls!"

Anger burned in Frater Airamas's eyes, but his voice did not reflect any emotion. He then looked at each of the members to ensure that eye contact was met, and then spoke like a true lawyer.

"My fraters and sorors, Frater AL-Shalom is not just killing for the sheer ecstasy of it—he is doing it for power! His intention is to eventually seize control of the Order by crippling us mentally, as has just been demonstrated by our confused brother here...." He then gestured to Frater Andreta. Frater Andreta said nothing, but his eyes reflected the anger that boiled underneath.

Anthony continued, saying, "As he says in his _Black Journals_ , on this very diskette, it reads, 'The OSS must be divided first, before it can be assimilated...and the man to make it happen is _me_!'"

Closing his hand into a fist and extending his index finger, he brought them in and breathed angrily, saying, "One last thing: Yes, it is true that my motivation for this case is my dying boy, also a Temple Master of the OSS, but the reason that he is dying is his torment and guilt over Vicky—you all know the scenario—so I ask of you all, as a father, as a Magus, and as a friend, consider my words carefully and then let us get to the bottom of this as soon as possible! After all, there are many things at stake here, my brothers and sisters, including our very souls!"

At that moment, the Order did fall in upon itself, one half believing in my innocence and the other half believing in my guilt! A heated argument broke out, and it took more than two minutes for our Master Ipssissimus to finally settle the ruffled Elders down. Realizing that he needed to reestablish control over the group, he spoke loudly at first, then slowly began to lower the volume.

"Fraters and sorors, we must remain in control of ourselves and of the situation; this evidence will be carefully examined by myself and two other members whom I shall personally choose in a few minutes... As for Frater AL-Shalom, if and when he discovers that his personal items have been taken, I want him to seek us out, so that he may have the opportunity to defend himself! Is this understood?"

The Elders answered, "Yes, Ipssissimus Master!"

Our Master Ipssissimus concluded, "So be it. Until we reach a resolution, I do not want anything to be said to anyone! The Order must not be tarnished in any way...."

Earlier that day, Bryan had called me from St. Mary's Hospital, saying that he needed to tell me something important. The moment I walked into the hospital room, around noon, I saw his eyes open and that crooked smile cross his lips—the smile that I loved so much—but his appearance was worse than ever! His skin was pale and his eyes were sunken, making him look like a zombie. I tried my best not to let my eyes betray the sorrow that I felt for my best friend.

"Do not fret for me, Jeb," Bryan said, his voice barely a whisper. "Where I will be going soon, even you will go some day...." Before he could finish his sentence, a fit of coughing overtook him. After a minute of continuous coughing, in which some blood came out of his mouth and landed on the handkerchief in his hand, he finally spoke again. "My fate has already been sealed, Jeb."

"What are you talking about, Bryan?" I interjected worriedly. "I am very close to finding the Solstice Slayer, and both you and Vicky shall be freed!"

"Yes...and no," Bryan answered, his eyes closing. "Indeed, Vicky and I shall become freed...but not in the way that you think!"

"What do you mean, Bryan?" I asked, alarmed. But he did not answer and lost consciousness. I placed my hands over his and studied his face. Finally, after a few minutes, I got up to leave. I looked back at him for a moment as he lay sleeping in his hospital bed, and then turned and left, unable to dwell on his plight any longer.

On my way back home, at 1:45 P.M., I received a call on my cellular phone. The identity of the caller was blocked. Picking up the phone, I stated, "Hello?"

After waiting thirty seconds or so, and without having heard a response, I was about to hang up when I heard a hoarse man's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Jeb.... How have you been?"

"Good.... Who is this?"

"That," the whispered voice took on a sinister tone, "is for me to know and for you to find out!"

"Hmm...I see...so, what do you want, Mystery Man?"

I heard a snort and a laugh on the other end of the line, and then the whispering continued. "That, you will find out all too soon!"

Shaking my head in exasperation, I hissed, "Listen, bud, I have more important things to do than to waste my time with an anonymous prankster who's trying to sound evil—what do you want?"

"Okay, okay—since you asked so nicely...I am..." he hesitated, and I sighed in resignation.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now—bye!"

"I am the Solstice Slayer!"

"Ho, ho!" I laughed aloud. "How do you figure that?"

"Oh, you don't believe me? Okay, then—where do I begin? Let's see...there are my victims—including your friends, Bryan White, Vicky Versuvio, Nina Juarez—"

"Okay, so you may have done a little research into who my friends are, but that doesn't prove anything."

"Well, what about this little fact that only I could know—you entered into my personal diary psychically and were not allowed to escape until I granted it!" I maintained a sense of confidence, but my heart beat faster as I realized that this could only be the real thing!

"Well, well," I answered, finally convinced. "I've been expecting your call, Solstice Slayer! And this time, it is you who will be unable to escape!"

"Do not try your little parlor tricks on me, Jeb—they have no effect!" he retorted.

"Now," I responded, unfazed, "tell me why you listed Bryan as one of your victims. I know he's alive because I just saw him!"

"How convenient it was for you to have visited him when you did—and how convenient it was for me, too—I guess it'll be a little more difficult to explain yourself to the authorities, won't it?"

I didn't like the smugness in his voice, nor the implications of his words. "What do you mean?" I asked, my neck bulging tensely.

"He's here with me! Would you like to say hi to Jeb, Bryan?" On the other end of the line, I could hear screaming, and I could not deny that the screaming voice was Bryan's—it seemed to crescendo and then subside.

Once the screaming subsided, the voice continued, "Would you like to conclude our little game? As for me, I am growing tired of it and wish to move on!" Rage welled up and spilled over as I heard Bryan's tortured cries—Bryan!

"Yes!" I responded. "Let's meet right now. Name the place and the time!"

"Wait!" he interrupted. "First, I must name the conditions....let's start with the wager. You can't have a really good game without a wager of some sort, right?"

"Uh, sure. What sort of wager do you have in mind?"

"How about wagering souls?" he asked. "If you win, you get your friends' souls back, as well as my own...and if I win, I get _your_ soul! After all, your soul is the one that I really want! Deal?"

I thought for a few seconds about this wager, before answering with a question, "If my soul is the one you really want...then how about no matter who wins, you release all the other souls?"

"No deal. Winner gets everything!"

Seeing no way out of it, I agreed. "Deal! Now name the place and the time!"

"Not yet," he countered. "The second condition is the sole rule of this game: No weapons or instruments of any kind, other than hand, mind, and magick—deal?"

"Fine, fine, it's a deal—any other conditions?" I was on the verge of exploding by this point.

"Yes...." At that moment, I would have wrung his neck if I could! "No cops, and no help!" he answered. "Let's meet at the overpass for I-55 at Flack Avenue in thirty minutes—oh, Jeb?"

"What?!"

"I'm watching you—believe me, I am! I see you fiddling around with that pen in your left hand, and those black sunglasses that you're wearing, and that red shirt and black jeans. I see you glancing in your rearview mirror now, possibly looking for me, in front of or behind you—well, you're partially right about my location—because I'm _everywhere_!" Just before he hung up the phone, he began to laugh maniacally.

I immediately headed to the overpass and waited—but he never showed up! More than three hours later, at five o'clock, I headed home, quite frustrated at his cowardice. But when I reached home later in the evening, I sensed a strange feeling in the air.

After stepping through the front door, my instincts were instantaneously confirmed—my home had been invaded! Upon the living room walls, I found gang slogans proclaiming "FG Love!" and "Ruler Killer!" To my dismay, all of my valuables, including my electronic and video equipment, had been stolen! In addition, my remaining possessions had been vandalized—all my paintings and sofa cushions had been ripped open with a sharp weapon, probably a knife—gang slogans were inscribed everywhere.

Stepping gingerly over the broken Roman antique vases that I had just recently purchased, I entered the kitchen—the refrigerator had been tipped over and the upper oak cabinets had been ripped out of the wall! Near the fridge, I could detect a strange odor, and I then noticed that there was an assortment of different-colored fluids pouring out from underneath—the smell was horrible! Upon the kitchen walls were spray-painted the words "We will be back!" and "Prepare to die, Motha-%$#@!"

I jumped over the refrigerator and headed downstairs into the basement. To my horror, as if things could possibly get worse, I found that both my desktop computer and laptop had been taken, along with all of my floppy disks and CDs! My tape recorder was also missing, along with all of my miniature cassettes.

"Oh my God!" I couldn't help but scream aloud at that moment. "My journals! They stole my journals!" I didn't care anymore about any of the other damages or lost property. As I agonized, my eyes came across another message scrawled upon the south-facing wall of the basement, which was painted in a dull red color. It said only "Help me!" When I stepped closer to the message, I noticed something peculiar about it—and then I realized that the message hadn't been spray-painted at all—it had been made with a thick paintbrush!

But as I came to this seemingly sound conclusion, a strange feeling passed through me again, similar to the one that I had felt before I had entered the place. I leaned close to the wall and sniffed the "paint." I recoiled in horror as I recognized the smell of iron, and I knew there was blood intermixed—human blood!

It was then that I noticed something even more ominous—within the message, there were designs resembling fingerprints! Instinctively, I examined my own fingerprints; I looked back and forth several times and noticed a match—my fingerprints were inscribed into the blood! But I knew that the blood could not possibly be my own, nor smeared by me. In order to identify the "blood donor," I placed my knuckle on the dried blood on the wall and closed my eyes.

Taking deep breaths, I meditated on it...and within moments, a face appeared in my mind—it was Frater Kenthia's! Not moving my knuckle, I pushed further still and then saw the face change—it was Vicky's! And then it was Nina's! And then a myriad of unknown faces appeared, all crying and moaning in agony as their souls burned in the fiery pits of a hell that I cannot begin to describe in words! By the time the images faded, I had, for the first time since becoming a Master, become truly afraid.

I headed to the front door, suddenly more careful about where I stepped, so as not to leave footprints. I wiped the front door handles, inside and out, with my shirt, and then locked the door. Heading back into the basement, I grabbed my combat equipment, which I had carefully hidden in the ceiling tiles. I then went into the garage and tucked them into the seat of my Stealth 750 motorcycle. Finally, I ran upstairs to check out the ritual room, figuring that they must have ransacked every room in the house. I quietly opened the door just to see if they might have left something behind, a clue of any kind.

Shock hit me as I saw that my ritual room was in mint condition—even the four-door mahogany cabinet had not been touched! But there was a strange feel to the room, one that I did not like—someone had been in the room! The rest of the house being destroyed did not bother me that much anymore—but this room was where my temple had been built, and yet this room was not destroyed!

Running to the corner of the room where the cabinet stood, I grabbed the knob on one of the drawers, opened it, and looked inside—all of my ritual tools sat in their assigned spots, except for one: My athame had been moved and now had dried blood all over it! A shudder crossed my body as I felt that I was being watched.

As goose bumps sprouted all over my arms and legs, the feeling only intensified, but my mind became crystal clear. "Identify yourself, spirit!" I commanded.

"Identify yourself first, human!" I heard in response. The voice was masculine in quality.

"Must I be forced to punish you, spirit?!" I asked with growing impatience.

"Very well," it said in a mocking tone. "I am a killer...there is a savage that lingers within me...I cannot explain its source, but it is authentic—fear me in my absolution, for I am that which you fear, a loathsome insect that crawls upon your body! I am that which penetrates your body and pollutes it with unholy vileness!"

A gateway opened before me, and shimmering rays of blue light poured from it. The being that came out could only be described as horrifically beautiful—its face was bull-shaped, with piercing blue eyes; its body, which was human in shape, appeared to be made of some metal element, but with chinks resembling battle scars all over; the hands were not human, however, but resembled eagle claws and gripped a huge battle axe; the legs were not human, either, but goat-like, with hooves instead of feet! I was awestruck as I studied this tall being that towered over me—but I remembered that I was also a Master! Grabbing my athame, I straightened and faced the creature boldly.

"Upon the blood of my athame is the blood of the ones that you have killed, spirit! These are the humans that you have used to carry out your mission against me! Yes, spirit, I know where the source of your power rests—but now, I strip this very power from you in the name of retribution, and in my name, which is Frater AL-Shalom, and in the name of the Almighty Creator!" I thought silently, "Now if I destroy this spirit, then I also destroy the human that controls and is being controlled by it!"

"No!" It answered me, hearing my thoughts. "You must destroy us both at the same time and in the same place!"

"Both of you?" I answered, incredulous. "Okay, then...where, exactly, is your human counterpart, spirit?

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course!" I answered, once again becoming impatient with his mocking tone.

"Come to my realm, and I shall show you through the Orb of Visions!" Within a minute, I had cast a spell over myself to protect my body from possession, and then I entered the astral plane. Once I had stepped through, I could see that we were the sole occupants of an enormous canyon, one with rivers of molten lava flowing through it and flaming rocks guarding its rim. "Come...Master!" He waved me forward in a relentlessly mocking tone. I stepped into the lava, confident that this illusion would have no effect upon me. I was right, for although I could feel the heat, it actually felt pleasant, as if I were standing in a warm whirlpool.

"Where are we going, spirit?" I inquired.

"We are going to my home, where the Orb is safely guarded! The Orb is the only gift that was given to me from the true Master. It allows me to see your human futures and pasts—but never the present!"

"I see...."

"We are almost there, human.... You shall soon see it for yourself!" He stopped halfway across the enormous canyon and turned to face me. "Now...see, 'Master!'" it said, almost humbly, "and welcome to my abode!"

The illusion of our being alone dissipated around me, and I saw, from floor to ceiling, millions of demons! Some were frolicking and play-fighting with each other, while others were torturing countless souls that swam in the fiery pits of this hell. I glanced back at the spirit and then turned to look at an object in my peripheral vision—I saw a glowing blue orb surfacing from the lava river underneath us. Its color was identical to that of the spirit's eyes, a bright sky blue.

After a minute, the orb stopped rising, and the spirit then declared, "Now, you will learn of my power! Stare into the Orb and you shall see your arch-nemesis, who is the Solstice Slayer!" At that moment, every demon in proximity stopped and turned to face us.

"Keep your legions off me," I warned. "Do not underestimate the power of my magick!"

"Fear not, oh 'Master.' Just watch!" An image materialized within the Orb below me, and I could see a scene unfold through the slayer's eyes. A clock could be seen, and the time shown was 7:00 P.M. From a reflection off the glass door that he was about to open, I could briefly see his face just before he pulled a black mask over his head. He looked to be around nineteen years old or so—good-looking kid, but with mean eyes. As for his location, there seemed to be something familiar about those particular glass doors.

Looking through his eyes, I saw that he pulled open the right glass door and walked through. He glanced to the right, and I then recognized the place—it was the Family Booth Restaurant! At the bottom of my field of vision, I then saw an M16 assault rifle being lifted up and aimed at the ceiling; several rounds were fired and he screamed out, "On the floor...now! _Now!_ " Realization hit the crowd; screaming in terror, they hit the floor.

He then yelled out, "Shut the hell up!" and fired two more rounds into the ceiling. He then pulled out a black tape recorder and hit the play button. As he walked up the main aisle and toward the kitchen, a strange voice could be heard from the tape recorder. He then began spraying rounds of bullets into the crowd, seemingly at random. The strange message continued playing.

A minute later, the message stopped. He reached the end of the aisle and turned around, releasing the thirty-round chamber. People were screaming and attempting to rush for the door with their children in tow as another clip was emptied, killing seven more and injuring twelve.

At that point, he turned around and entered the kitchen. He took off his mask, and a Hispanic man sitting in the far corner of the room, one who looked like a chef, screamed in Spanish, "The Devil!" The slayer fired upon the chef, killing him instantly, and the cellular phone in the chef's hand dropped from his lifeless hand. The slayer then ripped open his black suit and placed it, along with the M16, into a large white garbage bag and headed to the door. He entered a white 1978 Belmont Velocitor in the parking lot next door and turned on the ignition. He calmly pulled out of the driveway and left the scene of the crime as if nothing at all had happened!

Gripping my athame tightly, I closed my eyes and focused upon the power of the slain—in a flash, my mind was transported back to my physical body, but I could hear a roar from behind me—the roar of Hell! Grabbing the sheath for the athame, I ran back downstairs as fast as I could and hurried into the garage. I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that the time was 6:50 P.M.—I had ten minutes until the killing was to commence! I put on my motorcycle helmet and opened the garage door. Placing my athame under the seat compartment, I turned the ignition and revved the engine. The power of the Stealth kicked in, and I flew out of the garage and down the street!

About a hundred feet before I was to make the turn into the restaurant parking lot, I saw two police cars zooming from the opposite direction toward the restaurant; slowing down to glance at my wristwatch, I saw that the time was exactly the same as when I had last looked at it—my watch had stopped! I had no idea what time it really was!

"Damn...damn...damn!" I cried in frustration. "I'm too late—I'm always too late! My friends are dying, or dead, and there's a killer on the loose who's much too powerful for me! What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Jeb Arthur Maruso?"

Stopping the cycle, I sat there in the middle of the road, not caring about anything or anyone, for I had become completely oblivious to my surroundings. For an unknown length of time, I heard only silence—peaceful, blessed silence—but from within that silence, I found my courage renewed!

Revving the cycle, I turned around and sped off as fast as I could. I finally arrived at the scene just in time to see the white 1978 Velocitor, which had just made a right turn after pulling out of the parking lot. I made the turn as well and saw the police cars whizzing by, sirens blaring and lights flashing, toward the restaurant. Meanwhile, I could see that the Velocitor had already gone two blocks and was turning left; revving my cycle, I followed in close pursuit.

A few seconds later, I made the turn and saw him about a block ahead. After another right turn, I saw him just a few hundred feet away, pulling into the driveway of the second house from the corner. All of the houses here were huge and looked to be of nineteenth-century construction, but this one was a 3-story black brick house with green ivy on the walls— _green ivy on the walls_!

The Velocitor pulled into the attached garage, and after getting out of the car, the driver looked around hastily, stepped out of the garage, and closed the door. He then headed toward the backyard and disappeared behind the house.

I pulled the motorcycle over to the side of the road and hid behind a huge pine tree in the front yard. After he disappeared, I ran back to the cycle and pulled out my athame; pulling my mask over my head, I headed to the backyard, sure that I hadn't been seen.

When I reached the edge of the side wall, I peered into the backyard, and my mouth dropped agape in wonder—in the backyard was a labyrinth, a maze of six-foot-high green bushes, one hundred feet across, masked as a hedgerow! After studying the first row of hedges, I found an entrance and assumed that the slayer must have gone in through there; pulling out my athame, I entered the maze.

After many turns, I finally heard an older man's voice ask, "Are you sure you haven't been followed?" This voice sounded vaguely familiar; I stopped dead in my tracks and held my breath.

I could hear the slayer's reply: "Yes, I'm sure! I followed your orders exactly, Master!"

"Good.... Was the message played fully?"

"Yes, Master—though I did not understand what it said...."

"That's okay; it is not meant for you to know yet, neophyte!"

Just then, and without warning, I lost consciousness; I do not know how it happened, who did it, or why my intuitive skills failed me at that moment—but I remember nothing more of the backyard....]]

## Chapter XIV

The Fall

[[Recollections from Death Row—When I awoke, I found myself bound securely, hands and feet, into a hard steel chair bolted to the floor. The room was totally pitch-black except for a single bright light hanging over my head; even worse, that light was periodically turned off and on, preventing me from getting any rest. Frequently do I remember having hypodermic needles injected into my arms, poisoning me with strange, hallucinogenic drugs. I was also tortured physically, beaten, and whipped into oblivion.

When I wasn't being beaten, or screamed at, or isolated, I was forced to watch a 60" plasma television that played documentaries that described various terrorist leaders from past to present—from Nero to Hitler to Tamir and their horrific deeds; or movies, fiction or non-fiction, that consisted of torture sessions and of mutilated corpses; the commercials consisted of pictures of upside-down pentagrams, demons and devils, while voices screamed to me that I was 666—the incarnation of the Anti-Christ!

I don't even want to get into the exact physical tortures that they put me through...except to say that every time there was a bruise, burn, or cut placed on me, they would apply healing ointments to the affected area, so that it would heal rapidly...not unlike what happened to my hero Trendon Harrn.

For more than three months, I was abused in this fashion, and during this time, due to the meager diet given me, I must have lost more than forty pounds of muscle mass and looked like a skeleton—everything that I had worked so very, very, very hard to gain. I remember praying to the Maker for death so many times through my drug-induced haze, but never was death granted.

Finally, on the 21st of March, at 12:01 a.m., my captors released me—sort of—as I woke up to find myself being thrown out of a moving van going thirty miles an hour! I stopped rolling and came to a halt on the side of the road in the middle of Chicago on a beautiful Friday night; as I was handcuffed hand-and-feet, and gagged, all I could do was look around dazed and confused....

What my blurry-vision eyes happened to see first, a few seconds later, was the big note attached to the front of my dirty t-shirt, which read in bold, black letters: "Solstice Slayer—Jeb Arthur Maruso"

What I saw next was an old army duffle bag, lying on the ground only a few feet away from my feet, which bag appeared to be half-full of stuff—probably my stuff, so I believed.

Thanks to a passing pedestrian who had also read the note on my shirt, only ten seconds after I had stopped rolling on the ground, he immediately called the police and excitedly told them the situation...by then, I was completely surrounded by a wide variety of people who were either staring down at me with shock, confusion, even disgust; or whispering amongst one another his or her opinion. No one tried to help me.

It took the authorities less than one minute to arrive, police and paramedics; and within an hour's time, I was lying handcuffed in a bed in Cook County Hospital, under police watch. Once it was determined I was going to live and be stable, after running a ton of tests on me, they shipped me off to Chicago Police Department the very next morning.

Once there, the police escorted me not into a holding cell, but into an interrogation room. There sat two detectives on cushioned chairs behind a wood table that only had two objects sitting on it—a microphone and a large manila envelope. The third chair was obviously for me to sit in, so I did. Behind the detectives was a mirrored-glass wall—the other three walls were painted white. Marked just about everywhere, except for the floor and the tiled ceiling that had fluorescent bulbs glowing in every other tile, there were peoples' names or gang slogans.

After I sat down, the detective on the left side spoke first, "Mr. Maruso. Let me get to the point of this here meeting—open the envelope, and see what's inside. This is everything we found in that duffle bag that was laying next to you on the ground, as well some other stuff we recently found...then tell us what you think. Okay?"

Nodding my head, I took the envelope and opened it—sitting inside was a big stack of pictures—yup, it was all my stuff, like diskettes and bloody weapons and other evidential things like that. Once I had looked through the very last photo, all I could say was, "I want my lawyer. His name is Gregory Kuma. He's listed in the Yellow Pages. Thank you..."

"Yeah, Mr. Maruso," the other detective said, "We got you on your lawyer, thanks to our boys listening in the backroom, but you haven't even been charged with a single crime, yet. You're obviously a victim yourself—one who's not only been severely malnourished these last few months, yet tortured just as severely...evident by the various scars and wounds all over your body. Moreover, just about every illegal drug out there on the market was found in your system, including heroine and meth. Are you sure you don't wanna just tell us what the hell's going on, so we can help you?"

While shaking my head, I answered both softly and tiredly, "Too complicated to explain right now as I am still too exhausted...please just get me my lawyer, so I only have to say this once...."

Perhaps ten seconds later, the first detective sighed aloud, "Okay, Mr. Maruso, but based off the overwhelming evidence found in that duffle bag, as well more evidence we found in your wrecked condo, thanks to the search warrant we got issued last night, you are being placed under arrest. You know your Miranda Rights...right?"

"Yeah...."

Once my booking had been completed that included taking my fingerprints and DNA, two sheriffs placed me in a cell all by myself, where I immediately lay down on the blanket on the really hard bed and fell asleep. Nearly three hours later, after I had gotten a bit of sleep that involved yet another nightmare, my cell door opened and my lawyer entered.

After giving me a cup of warm coffee to drink, which I slurped down to fully wake up, I began to tell him my saga, from beginning to end. In the end, he promised me he'd do everything he could to help me out, because he firmly believed in my innocence. But don't all defense lawyers say that?

The following Monday, when court resumed and it was my turn to see the judge, both the state's prosecutor and my lawyer fought tooth-and-nail about my bond for a whole hour.

In the end, the judge decreed that, because of the multiple counts of murder I'm being charged with, coupled with the fact that I had nearly sixty million dollars in my American bank account, it would be best if I remained incarcerated "without bond" as I could be a flight risk.

The judge also added that, due to the recent changes in the law that shortened the time it takes to prosecute and sentence hardcore criminals, my trial was scheduled to begin only three months later.

Finally, the judge agreed with the prosecutor's suggestion—which suggestion was backed up by a signed petition put together by the victims' families and filled with five thousand, five hundred and fifty names—that when my trial begins, it will be publicly televised so that the whole world can finally learn the truth behind the "Solstice Slayings."

Once my turn before the judge was over, I was incarcerated at the Cook County Correctional Facility and placed into a two-man "max-security" cell with a gigantic black man named Louie Knight, a.k.a. "The Hammer."

Louie, who was otherwise known as Bubba, was a hardcore gang-leader and drug-dealer—notorious throughout Chicago. He had been arrested for tax evasion because that's all the authorities could get him for, and he had already been in the cell for six years, through delayed continuances in his trial—but the way things had gone, he figured he would be there for quite a while.

Now, what the authorities were thinking by putting me in this man's cell, and in this area of the prison—which was loaded with F-Gangsters and Latin Rulers—is not all that hard to figure out if you put together the facts already stated. Nothing happened, however, for the first month...in fact, everyone acted cool to me. Daily, I watched television or played the card game called spades with the other inmates.

Right after that first month had ended, and for the next two weeks, both the F-Gangsters and the Latin Rulers began to mess with me; they began to not only take my lunch and dinner snacks, yet they would even get in my way when I was trying to walk somewhere. After all, "word" had finally gotten around who I was and what I did—the one who they thought had started the war between them! Only once did I have to fight, but because I beat that dude so bad that he was in the hospital for 3 days, no one would lay a finger on me.

Finally, one night, Louie made his move—a move that I had been anticipating since my arrival. On that particular night, we were placed on lockdown, but several of the cell doors had somehow not been locked, including ours; somehow, the inmates that resided in the unlocked cells were aware of that fact, and they happened to be Bubba's bosom buddies.

Around two in the morning, after I had "fallen asleep," I was ambushed. A blanket was draped over my body and down the sides of my bunk. I made myself appear to be struggling in fear, and within moments, I could feel Bubba's massive weight upon both me and the bunk.

His deep breathing continued heavily, as he whispered, "Nothing's free in this world, White Bread, including my friendship. Now you be a good boy and turn over onto your stomach.... Don't fight me, cuz it'll only be more painful, and it doesn't have to be that way, Jebbie!" I heard snickering from his buddies, and then I heard a cutting sound. Soon, I felt big hands probing around in search of their booty.

I could see nothing, and I would have been screwed had I not been prepared for the event. At the moment he began to turn me around, surprise hit them all as "White Bread" pulled out a razor, sliced through the blankets and through Bubba's stomach, and split him all the way up to his throat! Before the force of his dying weight could overtake me, I bent my knees, pulled up my legs, and kicked into his chest; his body flew off the bunk and headfirst into the cell bars, causing his powerful neck to snap! With the advantage of surprise still on my side, I leaped to the floor and turned to face the rest of my attackers....

Let's just say that by the time the guards had finally arrived, the other four attackers were already dead—I was drenched in blood yet again as shotguns and flashlights were pointed at me from all directions.

I can still hear their voices, as if it were yesterday: "Lie on the ground, %$#@! Spread your hands and legs on the %$#@ ground or you will be terminated! _Do it_!" The lights clicked on, and surprise hit them all as they saw that I was the only survivor of the bloodbath.

This was the third time that I was actually guilty as charged for killing my would-be rapists and murderers. However, I felt absolutely no remorse over my act of self-defense. They asked me where the razor was, and they didn't believe me when I told them, until they saw it for themselves—it was still embedded in Louie's throat—and then I could see genuine shock and fear in their eyes as they looked around in complete disbelief!

Regardless of their newfound respect for me, I was given a full-body search, including my rectal cavity, before I was finally placed into the isolation tank. From that day onward, I remained completely in isolation, for they could not understand how I came into possession of the razor—and I'm sure they felt that they could not stop me from obtaining one again and from killing again.

To maintain credibility, I need to explain how I obtained it: That morning, razors had been issued to the inmates for shaving; once the shaving was completed, we were to display the used shavers, with razor blades, and deposit them into a garbage bag. After I had signed for mine and created the illusion that I was only trimming my extended sideburns, I quickly removed the blade and tucked it away in the only safe place I could think of—between my buttocks—for safekeeping. One wrong move, and not only would I have had a serious internal laceration to contend with but I would also have been guilty of a serious infraction that could land me in isolation.

Fortunately for me, one of the inmates, a dude who called himself Vic-E, ran off to his personal box to retrieve his shaving gel and had accidentally left the razor on the sink. While he was gone, I stealthily swiped the razor and turned my new one back in—within moments, I was already back in my bunk and lying there, waiting.

When Vic-E came back and discovered the missing blade, he freaked out! He threatened those around him with bodily harm if his "motha-%$#@ shaver" wasn't returned...but of course, no one saw anything. He started to panic and began to grab the other inmates by the fronts of their shirts, demanding the razor's return—one of those inmates punched him in the face, and the fight was on!

Seconds later, the guards were breaking up the fight between the two gangsters, trying to contain them before others could jump in. After the fight was broken up, Vic-E then informed our guards, "There's a motha-%$#@ thief that stole my %$#@ razor! I'm gonna kick his %$#@ little butt when I find out who did it! I swear I ain't got the razor, occifers!"

The moment the guards heard that his razor was missing, several of them proceeded to beat the crap out of him with broomsticks and demanded its return. The guards then stormed down the hallways and banged on all the cell doors, with the head guard screaming out at the top of his lungs, "Lockdown has officially begun—you will take off all of your clothes and lean up against the wall! Any resistance, and you will be shot! Cooperate, and you will be safe—is that understood?!"

Everyone immediately responded, "Yes, sir," and proceeded to do as instructed.... It was fortunate for me that the only thing they didn't search was the rectal cavity.

But the head guard did threaten, "If the razor blade isn't turned in by three o'clock in the morning tomorrow, all of you will be getting some deep anal penetration. Latex gloves—without lubrication—will be used, and we will probe deep within your booty-holes to find this razor. Now this will be a particularly painful process, especially if there happens to be a razor blade already embedded up there. Again, you have until three o'clock in the morning to make up your mind—breakfast or booty-holes—your choice."

"Yes, sir!" came the chorus from all the inmates. For the remainder of the day, we were confined to our cells, still naked. We even had to take our mattresses and personal items into the storage room—the only thing they allowed us to keep were our blankets, but they turned on the air-conditioner full blast, making things quite uncomfortable for everyone but me. I simply meditated the cold away.

I believe that the real reason the guards stalled with the rectal cavity search was because they probably believed that one of my own would-be attackers had stolen it and would possibly try to kill me in the process of raping me. After all, despite the dubious character of the other inmates, I was the most despised of all. Still, I remained ominously silent, keeping the razor blade hidden away, until the moment when Bubba climbed up my bunk....

Trial began for me a month and a half after that, and the sight that I provided for the cameras was certainly a humiliation, as I wore only my green correctional uniform, handcuffed at the ankles and the wrists. Why I was not allowed to wear a suit—I do not know. What I do know is that my skin was an unsightly sallow color from having been in the darkness of isolation, my hair was unkempt and nappy, my eyes were dark and sunken, and my patchy beard topped it all off, completing the picture of a serial killer in the making.

Of course, there was a jury of twelve of my peers of all adult-ages, sitting on the far-left side of the courtroom behind a wood railing—nine were females. The seats behind me were packed full of people (a dozen-or-so I personally knew), and positioned behind them were all the television cameras, videographers, and reporters. There were two prosecuting attorneys sitting behind their table to my right—my attorney and I sat behind our own table—and the judge sat in an over-sized chair behind her huge oak bench in the very front. The bailiff walked around the gallery keeping control of the room, while the court reporter had hurried in to set up her equipment.

After the judge had officially begun the court proceedings for the day, one of the prosecutors stood out of his seat, looked over at jury, and stated with overwhelming passion, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what you will hear throughout this trial will shock and horrify you. What you will encounter is a man who, in some eyes, might be looked upon as crazy...

"But in fact, what the State will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt is that Jeb Arthur Maruso is not only sane, yet fully aware of the forty-two counts of murder that he committed against society during his three-year reign of terror. We do believe that he is responsible for many more tragic deaths, at least a couple hundred more, but what we can prove to the court right now is all that he has been formally charged with...

"The evidence that we will present to you contains words, scenes, and images that are extremely graphic and violent in nature—consisting of journals, tape and video recordings, even weapons and pictures. Yet there is one little book that Mr. Maruso handwrote in particular, which clearly point to a secret plan that he was in the process of masterminding to fruition. He labeled this book _The Black Journals_ _of the OSS_ —meticulously written, yet ends with a bizarre twist—for his ultimate plan to first divide and then to dominate the world!

"Now, what—or who—is the OSS? The OSS, or the Order of the Solstice Sun, is a group of individuals that Mr. Maruso claims to exist. He will swear to you that this powerful elite of society seeking spiritual unity are real and are out there willing to embrace you and have been in existence since the beginning of humankind..."

After taking a deep breath through his mouth, he barked out the first word in his next statement, " _But_...State and Federal investigators have found no proof of his claims, other than in his own journals. This 'Order' is only a ruse, a figment of his imagination used to delude you into his diabolical trap. In other words, there is no OSS—unless, perhaps, the OSS actually stands for the 'Order of the Solstice Slayers?'

"Evidence also proves and not just from his own journals, that he manipulated many others into this delusional trap, creating a web of serial killers to carry out his mission, and that he later betrayed his followers once he was done with them, turning them in and making himself look like the Solstice Hero, thus gaining even more occult powers. He even killed a couple of his most-devout followers, which we will discuss in-depth at a later time...

"What is Mr. Maruso's primary motive in all this madness? Power...power to rule the entire world. The reason I mention his motive now is so that the ladies and gentlemen of the jury will not be swayed by this intelligent and diabolical fiend who is trying to appear insane. Jeb Arthur Maruso is guilty of the forty-two counts of murder that he is formally charged with—this the State will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt! Ladies and gentlemen, as I said at the beginning—if you are faint-hearted or weak-minded, then the State of Illinois asks you to step down in this case right away. Thank you...."

My attorney stood out of his seat, walked right on over to the jury, leaned his hands lightly on their wood railing, and while looking from one juror to the net, stated almost nonchalantly, "Jeb...Arthur...Maruso... Well, we all know who this man is now, don't we? Hell, if you don't, pick up your local newspaper or click on your radio or TV set, and then you'll learn exactly who the defendant is, right?" He then walked back over to my table, picked up a newspaper, and began reading the highlighted areas off the front page aloud:

"Jeb Arthur Maruso, the alleged Solstice Slayer, apprehended...the low-life scum who became a world-famous author...the quiet, friendly neighborly guy who became a warped and twisted psychotic killer, one who planned to spread his corrupt, occult form of terror all over the world."

My attorney purposefully dropped the newspaper onto the floor, pointed his finger at me, and said, "Hmm.... Now, what do you think of this man? I think it's fairly obvious, with not only what this article had to say, yet even more-so from all the rumors that you are all guilty of, spreading them throughout your families, your churches, and all over your workplaces. And now my client's name makes you cringe whenever you hear it—Jeb...Arthur...Maruso. And all this without his having been convicted yet. Hell, the trial's just begun, and already, Mr. Maruso has been made to look guilty as charged..."

Just like the prosecutor had done, my attorney took a deep breath through just his mouth and barked out the first word his next statement, " _But_...ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it is my intention to prove that Jeb is not only innocent but that he was framed by the real killer. You see, there is not one solid piece of evidence that my client committed any of the crimes that he is accused of—except for his unfortunate incident in prison with Louie Knight and his underlings, which was also the result of Mr. Maruso's improper incarceration in the first place. Once my client is acquitted of these heinous crimes against humanity, we may resume the search for the real Solstice Slayer! Thank you..."

My attorney sat down in his seat.

During the opening statements, I noticed that the judge and the jury had repeatedly turned their glances from the prosecutor or from my attorney to me, to get their initial impressions of the "alleged killer."

The judge then stated, "Prosecutor, you may call in your first witness."

"Your Honor," the prosecutor replied, "I would like to call in Beverly Williams." Beverly Williams was the old lady from the McBuck's where I met Nina! Of course, the prosecutor asked her about our first encounter, and she answered, "Jeb Maruso was staring at this pretty little girl behind the counter, and I asked him if he was going to order or not, 'cause he was taking a long time and holding up the line. He screamed at me like a wild beast, slapping his hands very hard into the countertop! Not wanting any confrontations, I quietly moved to the next line."

The prosecutor pulled out a picture of Nina Juarez and asked, "Now, Mrs. Williams, will you tell the jury if this is the girl that you saw behind the counter that day?"

She squinted at the picture and answered, "Yes."

He continued, "Mrs. Williams, are there any other encounters that you had with the man?"

"Yes," she answered. "At my church.... Cheryl, a young woman who used to be a member at our church until she was murdered, introduced us to each other several months later. When I had first seen him in the fast-food restaurant, his eyes were all bloodshot, and he wore raggedy clothes...but when I saw him at the church, he was nicely dressed in a suit and had the mannerisms of a gentleman."

The prosecutor held up another photograph and said, "Is this Cheryl Mathis?"

"Yes."

"No more questions, Your Honor," the prosecutor concluded.

My lawyer stood up and approached the witness stand. "Mrs. Williams, you testified that Cheryl Mathis introduced you to Jeb Maruso at church...why do you go to church, Mrs. Williams?"

"To learn more about God and Jesus," she answered.

"I see. Now, while the three of you were learning about God, you said that Mr. Maruso was nicely dressed, and acted like a gentleman, did you not?"

"Yes," she answered emphatically, "but I now know that he was a wolf in sheep's clothing—it was all a tactic to kill poor Cheryl. After all, he fits all the signs of the Beast, the Antichrist—just look at all the things he's done in his work of Satan!"

"Your Honor, I ask that Mrs. Williams's last statement be stricken from the records, as it is merely her own conjecture of biblical interpretation."

Before the judge could say anything, Mrs. Williams sounded exactly like she did on that fateful day in McBucks as she howled angrily and shrilly, "It's not my own interpretation—we discussed this at our prayer meeting, overseen by God, and it was all agreed upon by everyone!"

"Your Honor?" my attorney requested again.

The judge ruled, "Sustained."

"Mrs. Williams," my attorney continued, "please calm down.... Now, did you just tell the court that all of you at church came to an agreement pertaining to Mr. Maruso's true identity?"

Mrs. Williams, now sounding surprisingly calm, responded, "Yes, we did."

"But, Mrs. Williams, didn't you also tell the court that you went to church to learn about God and Jesus?" She nodded her head in agreement. "If this is true, then why is it that you are discussing subjects like Jeb Maruso, the Beast, and Satan?"

Mrs. Williams appeared to be confused, but without waiting for the answer, my attorney said, "No more questions, Your Honor." Mrs. Williams was dismissed.

The prosecutor then stood up and approached the judge. "The commonwealth would like to call in Terence Jones...." Terence Jones, a.k.a. my old marijuana dealer and buddy from way back in the day when I was a nobody. Except for the sharp three-piece suit he wore today, in which I have only seen him before wear a wide variety of hats, jerseys, jeans and sneakers, he pretty much looked the same as before...a punk.

After he took the stand, the prosecutor asked him many questions about our past. To my astonishment, Terence lied on the stand, telling the court that I had both used and sold heavy drugs, particularly Ecstasy. He also said, "Jeb's favorite thing to do was to get FUBARed, or 'fogged up beyond all recognition,' often picking fights among his own homies. Man...we eventually disowned him, you know—too crazy for us!" What I immediately noticed was that Terence had a certain way of talking—he cursed just about every other word—that indicated his lines were obviously rehearsed. He hadn't said a single swear word this time.

But I was really surprised and quite impressed when my attorney came through yet again—it seems that he had done extensive research into the prosecution's witnesses, and he had discovered something interesting about Terence. Ultimately, he was caught lying on the stand. Here is what was said:

"So, Terence," my attorney asked, "you and Jeb seemed to be doing a lot of illegal stuff back in the good old days, right?" Terence nodded. "Have you ever been arrested, Terence?" Terence shook his head. "Are you sure, Terence?" Once again, Terence nodded his head. "I see.... Is this you, Terence Jones, in this picture?" He flashed a mug shot of Terence toward the witness stand and then to the jury.

"But I was never convi—" Terence protested, before he was cut off by a wag of the finger by my attorney. Staring deep into my traitorous friend's eyes, my attorney stated, "Terence, this picture was taken when you were arrested for an armed robbery charge a little less than three years ago, down in the boonies of Tukson County, Virginia.... You, Terence Jones, are a liar committing perjury!" And just when Terence looked away, unable to take the stare-down any longer, my attorney continued. "Did you get paid to say what you did, Terence? If so..." his eyes darted over to the prosecutor and back to Terence, "...who hired you, Mr. Jones?"

"Objection, Your Honor," the prosecutor said, looking angrily at the judge and rising from his seat rapidly. "Move to strike!"

"Sustained—counselor, do you have proof of such bribery?" the judge asked.

"No, Your Honor, I don't," my attorney said, slowly, his eyes fixed on Terence, "but something sounds very suspicious here."

"Defense," the judge stated emphatically, bringing her gavel down onto her bench. "Without proof, you cannot badger the witness into a forced confession!"

"Yes, Your Honor," my lawyer responded without giving up eye contact with Terence. Terence looked very nervous and avoided his gaze. Suddenly, my attorney turned to face the judge and declared, "Your Honor, Terence Jones's lies exclude him as a reliable witness in testimony against my client—and so does his criminal record...I move to have this witness removed from the stand."

"Sustained," the judge announced. "Next time, Commonwealth, I hope that you have performed your background checks more thoroughly. We will adjourn for today, and the court will resume in three days.... Dismissed!"

Three days later, the trial resumed. The prosecutor called his next witness. "The Commonwealth would like to call Paul Mathers to the stand." Paul Mathers, a coworker from Telexia and co-conspirator of the dynamic duo, took the stand.

"Mr. Mathers, you do know Mr. Maruso, do you not?" the prosecutor began. Paul nodded. "I see...and do you know this person?" The prosecutor held up a photo for only Paul to see, and he was answered by another nod from Paul. "Tell me of your personal relationship with Jeb Maruso and how this Todd Jenkins fit into it all."

"Well," Paul began, "it all started about two and a half years ago or so, when Jeb first started working for Telexia as a shipper. The first time Todd and I met him—his first day on the job—well, he stunk like a pig! It was absolutely horrible...oh, and he also looked like he was stoned—but we didn't say anything to anyone about our suspicions. After two days of being around him, with that pungent odor he brought with him, Todd and I began to throw little suggestions to him about taking a shower, and he would get really angry and make a strange expression before storming off..."

After taking a deep breath, he added, "Then, it seemed as though he completely changed in one day alone—he was clean-shaven and seemed to have his act together. I remember approaching him after a couple of days to apologize for the remarks that Todd and I had made...but he spit in my face, calling me a mundane fool. Several days later, Todd and I became suspicious again when Jeb came to work in a Z-Ster 5000! He claimed that it wasn't his, that it belonged to a cousin who was visiting him—but then, two days later, he claimed that his cousin had given it to him as a present—yeah right...

"A couple of weeks after that, he threw this big party, inviting everyone but Todd and me. From that party onward, he rose through the ranks quickly, drawing the eye of our CEO and president of Telexia, Mr. Towers. And then he tried to force people to accept his 'progressive philosophy' or get the hell out of the way because, 'Here comes Jeb Maruso!' And then he wrote this stupid fantasy book, but then mysteriously disappeared soon after.

"Getting back to Todd Jenkins—Todd never had any enemies except for Mr. Maruso. And the defendant is the only one who would have killed Todd Jenkins, my best friend!" He then proceeded to cry like a little girl.

"No more questions, your honor," the prosecutor said.

At that point, I thought I was screwed. Never was it insinuated by Paul that I was crazy or deluded, just that I was a cold-blooded killer! I saw evil looks being thrown my way from the jury, thereby confirming my suspicion. Throughout the courtroom, I could hear whispers and hushed voices, and I could feel their stares upon my back.

My attorney stood up and approached the bench. "Mr. Mathers—may I call you Paul?" Paul nodded in reply. "Thank you, Paul...would you please tell the court just what it was that Todd Jenkins was fired for?"

"Stealing," Paul answered, still sniffing. "But I wouldn't doubt it if Jeb was the one who put him up to it. After all, Jeb was the one who always happened to be in the right place at the right time, and then proclaimed himself as this great hero."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," my attorney interrupted, "that is pure speculation. Within Jeb Maruso's _Black Journals_ , though I believe them to be factitious, there is absolutely no mention of any association between Todd Jenkins and Jeb Maruso."

"Objection, Your Honor," the prosecutor demanded. "Move to strike."

"Sustained," the judge stated evenly. "Defense, you will not mention _The Black Journals_ until we have had a chance to thoroughly examine them and decide for ourselves their validity."

Undaunted, my defender responded, "Fine.... Now, Paul, you told the court that, one day, Jeb drove to work in a Malibu Lopar, and the next, a Z-Ster 5000. So what? Where's the crime there? The car was in his name—and his best friend in the world, whom he considered family, had given him this expensive gift as a token of their priceless friendship. In addition, both the car and the condo were later paid in full once Jeb achieved financial independence. As for Mr. Maruso's financial success, it appears that he earned it through his artistic ingenuity, does it not? No more questions, Your Honor," my attorney concluded, taking his seat next to me.

The prosecutor then stood up and walked over to Paul. "Paul," he said, "One day, you happened to stroll by Jeb Maruso's cubicle and you accidentally discovered something—can you tell the court what that something was?"

"Well...one day, I went into his cubicle to drop off some order forms that he had requested, only to find him gone. When I dropped the order forms onto his desk, it rattled and caused his word-processor program to pop up on the computer monitor. He had left his computer on, and I immediately noticed that Jeb had been writing daily work journals. I know this sounds nosy, but I quickly clicked on the Files menu and then on the Print menu, and I assigned the print job to the printer in my cube—the reason I did it was because I wanted to find out what made this man tick."

"And what was it that you found contained within those journals?"

"Mainly, it was business-related subjects, but occasionally, he had odd comments written in them...."

"Like this?" the prosecutor asked, handing a paper over to the bailiff, who then handed it to Paul.

Paul read from the printout: "'It is my intention to find the source of the problem and to remove it.... I need to call Mr. Buicks in a couple of minutes, after I have finished writing in my journal..... Todd I will deal with cordially! He did get the best of me, in a way—I may have lost an important client for Telexia—but I will get him back! Whatever time it takes is what I am willing to spend.'"

Paul flipped to the next page and read, "'So far, so good.... Our shipments have been completely accurate this week. In addition, I have gone into my employees' personal files to examine their pasts—perhaps one of them is stealing, but I'd rather not think that way. I am just doing it to be on the safe side. I wonder if it'd be possible to check out Todd's past, too..... Speaking of Todd, he threw me the dirtiest look today as he passed by my cube—that putrid punk—why does God allow such vermin to walk on the earth? Oh—note to self—one more month until the big date. I need to get the proper supplies!'"

"No further questions, Your Honor," the prosecutor stated.

My attorney then stood up, took off his suit jacket, pulled out the dress shirt from within his slacks, turned his tie around, and proceeded to ruffle up his hair.

He then walked over to Paul with a moronic expression on his face, and asked, "Paul, do ya think I look a little weird?" Paul shook his head. "Are you sure about that, Paul?" My attorney then put one hand on the top of his head and began to spin in a circle. "Paul, do ya think I look even weirder now?" After another ten seconds had passed, my attorney stopped spinning and began to jump in place. "What about now, Paul?" Paul began to look irritated.

The prosecutor stood up and shouted, "Objection, Your Honor! The defense is badgering yet another witness and has nothing to prove by performing these clownish acts in the courtroom."

"Overruled," the judge replied. "I want to see where the defense is going with this. Defense, I sincerely hope that there's a point to this charade!"

My attorney stopped clowning around immediately and answered seriously, "Yes, there is, Your Honor. The act that I just performed, one that might seem weird to some, clownish to others, and a charade to someone such as yourself, was nothing more than me, a grown man, putting on a harmless act. My point is that it is all a matter of perception...and so long as I didn't hurt anyone in the process, did I really do something wrong?

"No, I didn't do anything wrong, but if _someone like Paul Mathers_ thought I was, who's to say that _he_ wouldn't try to hurt me out of spite alone? Who's to say _he_ wouldn't lie in order to hurt someone _he_ didn't like, just because _he_ thought Mr. Maruso was weird?

"In fact, the entries that he claims to have found on Mr. Maruso's computer could have been forged by Paul Mathers himself. There are no fingerprints, and there is certainly no proof that these letters originated from Jeb Maruso." Paul bore an increasingly disputatious expression while my attorney continued. "For all we know, Mr. Mathers could have easily typed it all up on his own word-processing program at home and printed it out—"

"That's crap!" Paul screamed, leaping out of his seat at my attorney.

The judge cried out, "Restrain the witness!" and slammed her gavel down on the table.

As the sheriffs quickly restrained Paul and shoved him back into his seat, the prosecutor then screamed, "Objection, Your Honor...the defense is clearly badgering the witness!" My attorney started to laugh.

The judge said, "Overruled."

After a minute of silence, my attorney shook his head and faced the jury. "Badgering...ladies and gentlemen, I have only heard badgering and harsh criticism of my client. So what if my client had been homeless and was forced to sleep in his car? So what if my client did not have a showering facility in order to maintain hygiene? Does this make Mr. Maruso a menace to society? Does it give anyone the right to judge the man?"

"How was I to know that?" Paul snapped. "It's not like he told anyone about his problems or asked anyone for their help!"

My attorney turned back to Paul with a smirk on his face. "Oh...was I addressing you, Mr. Mathers?"

The prosecutor cried out, "Objection, Your Honor...the defense is trying to provoke my witness again!"

"Overruled!" the judge boomed, louder than ever. "One more outburst from this witness and I shall have him removed from this courtroom!" She turned to face Paul and stated, "Young man, this is a court of law. Do not use that kind of disrespectful language in this courtroom either—you will treat it with respect, or you will be held in contempt and jailed. Do you understand?"

Paul, now visibly shaken, answered, "Yes."

"Yes, Your Honor!" the judge demanded. "You will address me with respect, as well, young man."

"Yes, Your Honor!" Paul said hastily, beads of sweat appearing on his face.

My attorney then turned to face the jury and said, "Despite starting out destitute and detested, Jeb Maruso did something about it—he cleaned himself up. And as for everyone else, they _liked_ Mr. Maruso—until he was pinned with this murder rap...." He then stopped in mid-sentence and sniffed the air, turned to face Paul, who continued to sweat profusely, and continued, "And by the way, Paul, you desperately need to take a shower. The witness is excused, Your Honor. Pee-yoo!"

"Fine, then," the judge stated, somewhat relieved because she was ready for lunch. "Court is adjourned until next Wednesday at 9:30 A.M." The gavel came down hard against the table once again.

The trial resumed the following Wednesday. At 9:31 A.M., the prosecutor approached the bench and said, "The Commonwealth would like to call in Mr. Frank Russells." Frank Russells was my coworker from Telexia, the man whose boyfriend Larry mysteriously drowned in the pool! Frank took a seat upon the witness stand, and the prosecutor said, "Good morning, Mr. Russells. How are you today?"

"Um, okay," Frank answered. "How are you?"

"Fine, thank you. Mr. Russells, how long have you worked for Telexia?"

"Seven years."

"And during your career at Telexia, did you come to know the defendant, Jeb Maruso?"

"Yes, but not personally."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we got to know each other very well in just about every way, except for one—you know—Jeb isn't gay."

"Did your boyfriend ever work for Telexia?"

"No."

"Did your boyfriend have any connection with Jeb Maruso, Frank?"

"No. That's why I found it such a surprise when I heard that he was being charged with Larry's murder!"

"I know that this is going to be hard for you, Frank...but I need you to relive the events of the night that you threw the bash at your house—the night that Larry died."

"Well, okay," Frank said, a little quietly, and he then paused for a minute to collect his thoughts. "Whoo! It was a crazy night.... Just about everyone I could think of showed up. I had promised myself that I wouldn't get drunk, to keep control over the party and all—but just before people started showing up, Larry and I got into another spat. It regarded a situation that we had been fighting over for several weeks, about whether we should allow others into our bed—he wanted to, but I didn't. With every other argument—until the night in question, that is—we had been able to settle our differences. And after each one, Larry always promised to remain faithful to me until I made up my mind. I have always been for monogamy, but Larry wasn't—very flamboyant fellow, if you know what I mean. But I truly cared for him and only wanted him for myself. As I said before, Larry saw things in a different way than I did. Then came that awful night—and I did get pretty drunk...." He began to sniffle, and tears formed in his eyes.

After a minute, the prosecutor pushed on. "So, what happened, Frank?" he asked.

"Just after another shot of liquid cocaine, I walked into the bedroom...and I was completely surprised to see Larry half-lying under the blankets, but there was another figure completely under the blankets, doing you know! Though I was angry, I was also afraid—afraid of just who was under there with him!"

"Why?" the prosecutor asked.

"I don't know—a part of me just wanted to yank the blankets back, but I couldn't. Yet, I just had to know, and so I said, 'Larry—our promise! Who...who is that?!' What I found a little strange was that the figure didn't seem to care about the intrusion and only continued..."

The prosecutor asked, "You mean, the oral intercourse continued? What did Larry say or do in response to your question?"

"He said, in an ecstatic voice, 'Why don't you find out yourself?' My anger soon took over and I ran over to the bed and yanked the blankets off him!"

"Whom did you see, Frank?" my prosecutor asked carefully.

"Jeb," Frank answered. "And without stopping, his eyes just popped open and he started staring at me. A few moments later, he completed, and then he began to lick around his lips with his tongue, around and around, all with this really sinister smile—I know I sound crazy—but hold on, it gets crazier!

"When I looked back up at Larry, I could see that he was also staring at me the exact same way as Jeb was, licking around his lips with his tongue. And—this is the mother of all craziness—but when I looked back down again, I was even more surprised to see that it wasn't Jeb, after all—it was _Tony_!"

"What do you mean, Frank?" the prosecutor asked, taken aback by the surprise. "Who is Tony?"

"Tony Capulaza is an ex-boyfriend of mine. We parted ways about four years ago, on good terms—his family was moving to California and he wanted to be with them—well, Tony was one of the unexpected guests at my party, and that's who I saw getting off the bed, licking his lips...."

"So what happened?" the prosecutor asked with his left eyebrow all scrunched up.

"Well," Frank answered truthfully, "I couldn't take it anymore, and they both began to laugh hysterically at me...I was afraid, and I ran out of the bedroom crying! I ran into Rachelle in the kitchen on the other side of the house. When she saw how upset I was, she asked me what was wrong. I told her about the scene that I just described to you, and she laughed when I mentioned that it was Jeb that I had seen. When I asked her why she was laughing, she giggled and said that Jeb had been in the living room for the last half-hour with several buddies of his. I then asked her if she had seen Tony, and she said that she hadn't. I asked her if I was going crazy, if perhaps someone had slipped something into my drink, and she laughed...

"'No,' she answered a few seconds later, 'you are not going crazy...but the other thing remains to be seen. No matter what, I'll keep watch over you, Frank. You're just really emotional right now, and sometimes people think they see things when they're in such a state of mind.' Just then, some other partygoers came in, and Rachelle said, 'Come on, let's go into the bedroom and talk about it privately.' And just after she finished saying that, I could hear yelling in the living room! With it being my house and all, and as protective of it as I am, I ran in to settle the dispute before it could get out of hand."

"What did you see, Frank?" the prosecutor asked with a whole lot of curiosity.

"I saw Jeb pushing two of his friends off him, a guy and a gal, just before he stormed out of the house... The twenty-something-year-old guy was unbelievably gorgeous who slightly reminded me of the famous actor, Thad Witt...and the same-aged gal was nearly as beautiful, whose strongest feature in my opinion was her hair—black, long, thick, shiny and luscious. They ran after him, with the rest of us soon following, including me. By the time I got outside, however, he had already gotten into his Z-Ster and was speeding off, with gravel flying absolutely everywhere! Before we could ask his two friends what had happened, they took off in another car..."

"Did you ever question Jeb about the incident?" the prosecutor asked.

"Oh, no—I believed Rachelle when she said that I had imagined it!"

"So...anything else happen that night?" the prosecutor asked.

"Yes.... After Jeb and his buddies left, we all went back into the house, and Rachelle and I went back to the bedroom. I agreed with her when she told me that there is someone else out there for me, waiting for me to come into his life. Eventually, we passed out together on the bed, until we were awakened by the police several hours later. They informed me that Larry had been found murdered in my pool, in the backyard, and they wanted to take me down to the station for questioning! Tony was nowhere to be found...so I have never suspected that Jeb had anything to do with Larry's death. Jeb would never do anything to anybody—he's a good person...and I'm not crazy, either, if that's what you're wondering, except for that one night!"

The prosecutor began nodding his head, while saying, "We know this, Frank...but Frank, I am going to tell you some things that you did not know about Jeb Maruso. You see, Frank, Jeb Arthur Maruso _did_ have a connection with Tony Capulaza—Tony was one of his henchmen. Did you know that Tony had been living in Oak Woods for over a year? And that he and Tony met on a regular basis? And that it was Jeb Maruso who informed Tony about this party, which he attended? And if that wasn't enough, he even revealed the identity of your lover to Tony...."

Until this short pause, Frank had been rendered speechless, but he finally snapped out of it and yelled, "That's a lie!"

My defense attorney yelled out, "Objection, Your Honor...he's badgering his own witness!"

"Sustained," the judge answered. "Counselor, you will be nicer to your witnesses, or we will be forced to find another representative for the Commonwealth—understood?"

"Your Honor, I am not badgering my witness. I brought up this subject so that I can introduce the information contained within Jeb Maruso's— _The Black Journals_! I think the time has come for us to open them up, and to answer the questions that people really have about Jeb Arthur Maruso—and to reveal the way that he treated those who have called him friend." Upon conclusion of his last statement, his eyes advertently looked at Frank.

The judge then asked, "Are we fully prepared to present these journals, prosecutor?"

"Not yet, Your Honor," the prosecutor answered. "I need forty-eight hours more."

"Fine, then. Before we reconvene, I want to see both of you in my chambers to discuss your plans for covering these extensive journals."

"Yes, Your Honor," my attorney and the prosecutor replied together.

"Good.... Court is adjourned until one week from now."

The night before the next court session, my defense attorney came to visit me. "Jeb...I've got some good news and some bad news for you—which would you like first?"

"You decide," I answered, not sure what to expect.

"Okay—the bad news is that your journals and your tape recordings are going to be used against you in court, including _The Black Journals_. There's enough evidence to implicate them as your handiwork, thanks to the computer technology we have nowadays, which matched your spoken voice to the recordings. The computer gave a 99% probability that it was indeed your voice."

"Is that all of the bad news?" I asked.

"Actually, no.... Because of the sheer number of entries that you recorded in your journals, the judge does not feel it possible to go through each individual entry, so only those that are relevant to this particular case will be examined."

"And is _that_ all of the bad news?" I asked.

"Why, yes, Jeb. The good news is that, because the court is trying to ascertain your true nature, I will be able to use your journal entries to speak of your positive values and morals, to balance the testimony against those that the D.A. will use—do you understand, Jeb?" he asked.

"That's just going to make me look crazy, isn't it?" I asked. "It'll show me as dualistic, or at best, uncertain."

"Not if we prove that your journals have actually been broken into and tampered with, and that this whole thing is one big setup."

"How do you plan on accomplishing that?"

With ever-growing excitement, he answered, "Jeb, each and every person has their own unique style of expression, and that particular style usually remains the same throughout life, with little change. But within your journals, I have clearly seen more than one type of pattern evident—this seems to indicate that someone else has broken into your files, searched through your logs, and altered them to fit the bill. If we can prove this to the court, they will see you as having been framed and will then find you completely innocent of the charges brought against you!"

"Good...because I'm ready to get the hell out of here!"

"I'll bet you are," he replied. Without going into all the gory details, I must simply submit that my defense attorney chose a sound strategy, one that might have worked had it been allowed to run its full course. He had effectively countered all of the prosecutor's arguments up to that point and had dismissed all of the prosecution's witnesses through cross-examination.

Up to that point, the jury didn't know what to think...but as _The Black Journals_ were about to be examined, my defense attorney informed me that he would not refute or contest each and every entry that was analyzed by the prosecution, choosing instead to wait until the very end to spring upon the jury his evidence, and an argument designed to completely and quickly decimate the prosecutor's argument—a plan he simply referred to as "The White Journals." Once again, for reasons that will be made clear shortly, his strategy was not allowed to run its full course.

Once the next court session had resumed, the prosecutor held a small tape recorder in his right hand, but instead of pressing play, he briefed, "On October 26, 1999, Jeb Maruso recorded this dream, which I shall now play for you."

_My tape-recorded voice:_ "Today is the 26th of October...time, 3:22 in the morning. I had gone to bed around eleven last night, figuring on eight hours of sleep. However, I was awakened several minutes ago by a terrifying nightmare! Right now, I remember it, so that is why I am recording this, in case I forget.

"In my dream, a scene slowly started to play itself out. At first, the dream seemed normal. There was this girl, approximately seventeen or eighteen years old. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and innocent green eyes. I don't remember what she was wearing. Though I didn't know who she was, she seemed strangely familiar at the time, as if we were old friends. She was telling me something, but I couldn't hear her....

"After a short pause, I saw her cheeks begin to blush. Her green eyes gazed up at me, and a slight smile formed on her lips. She leaned in to kiss me, and I felt her soft lips on my own. She pulled back from that kiss and threw a sweet smile at me. Before she turned to walk up the sidewalk leading to her front porch, she blew me another kiss—and then it starts getting weird!

"I could see myself following behind her with a slightly bouncy motion. She was still walking, unaware that I had almost reached her. Her scent only grew stronger as I neared, and a strange feeling began to wash over me. I was overtaken by a feeling, as if a beast within me was beginning to awaken! I finally drew to an arm's length away from her, and I could see a hand appear in my field of vision. It reached in the direction of the girl and grabbed at her hair, finally connected, and jerked her head back, exposing the veins in her neck.

"I tried to scream to alert the girl, who was now in danger, but with no success. No sounds could be spoken or heard, and I had no control over what happened afterward! As this event unfolded, however, my shock disappeared, and I thoroughly enjoyed the violence that I was forced to observe, as I saw her raped and then stabbed continuously—nice!"

The prosecutor stopped the tape, before revealing, "That girl was Becky Huchins, who was raped and killed that very night. Police had few leads, and the case was dismissed as unsolved. Later, on the second of July, Jeb Maruso logs the events that transpired at Frank Russell's party the night prior. The part that shall start playing on the next section of the tape, after the sound of the one-second beep, begins just after Jeb had publicly declared his love to Vicky Versuvio in front of Bryan White. Now, Vicky had betrayed Jeb's love, or so he felt, because she was now with his best friend."

_BEEP—MY VOICE:_ "...And then the rage ultimately won the battle and I suddenly stopped crying, sniffing, breathing, everything! I looked at my two traitorous 'friends' and went mad!

"'Forget all this!'" I hissed, and pushed them off me.

"'Wait...Jeb!'" Both Bryan and Vicky tried to grab me, but with no success! I escaped the two of them and stormed off to my Z-Ster—no longer was I human in any way, shape, or form! That beast had arisen within me once again, and all I could see was red! All I could feel was fury! All I could taste were ashes! All I could smell was brimstone! After I got into my Z-Ster and sped off, I began to scream. 'Bryan can have any girl in the world, with his wonderful looks and debonair personality! Why did he have to choose this one—the one that I'm in love with? And as for Vicky, I could have built her an empire! Why couldn't she have foreseen that? Couldn't she feel the love that I've had for her all along?' After a moment of silence, I screamed, 'I don't need love from anyone—because it only gets thrown back at me in the end—women are truly the downfall of men!'

"I'm not sure what time I got home, but I do remember sitting in the Z-Ster for an unknown amount of time with the rain beating down onto my windshield..... While I was sitting there, I started thinking about the strange expression I saw on Frank's face last night...it was the way he looked at me. He looked like he had been crying...but I could swear that I also saw fear in his eyes, as though he had seen a ghost!

"Tony did an excellent job, just as I had planned....It seems that my powers of deception have truly multiplied!"

After another one-second beep had passed, the prosecutor stopped the tape. He then said, "Now, Jeb mentions sitting in his car, with the rain pouring down onto the windshield at an unknown time...but it did not start raining until 3:15 A.M., and the body wasn't discovered until later that morning. There was plenty of time for Jeb Maruso to take off in the Z-Ster, come back to Frank's residence, and murder Larry in the pool. Our primary suspect in the investigation at that time was Larry's boyfriend, Frank Russells—but as we've already heard, he was with Rachelle at the time of Larry's death. Investigators questioned not only Frank but also everyone else that had attended the party."

"Unfortunately," the prosecutor growled aloud with furled eyebrows, "neither of the investigators—Detectives Stiles and Spare—can report their findings to this court, as they themselves became victims of Jeb Maruso's murderous rampage! We do know, however, that when the defendant was questioned at his work cubicle by these two detectives, he secretly recorded their conversation and then transcribed it to his computer, falsifying it in the process by interjecting his own thoughts and opinions into the conversation; he even uttered the now-infamous "Serpent's Prayer" and mentioned at the end of the transcription that he is satisfied to have 'passed this test.' The State would like to rest for today." The prosecutor sat down.

My defense attorney merely responded, "No questions, Your Honor."

"Fine, Counsel. Will the prosecution be ready tomorrow?" the judge asked, and upon the prosecutor's confirmation, she stated, "Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at 9:30 A.M."

The next morning, the prosecutor pushed on into my journals to the date of July 8th; he mentioned that I had just completed my rough draft and that I pretended to be buddy-buddy with Bryan again simply because I needed his legal expertise.

However, the ending of my entry on that date had been altered; this became apparent to me when the prosecutor played this minute-long section of tape to the court:

_MY VOICE:_ "...As for Bryan and Vicky, let them have each other! Hell, I'm happy for them now. After all, I'll be able to have any chick or any car or any material thing that I could possibly want....Still, I'd kill them if I could get away with it...."

During the next several court sessions, the prosecutor pushed on into my time line, discussing issues such as Cheryl's unexpected re-emergence into my life and my harsh reaction to it; the unlikely ease of my acquiring a publisher; my abruptly quitting Telexia and disappearing from the face of the earth for six months, not telling anyone of my whereabouts or plans; and my brief return to civilization for an appearance on a late-night talk show. The encounter at Cue Ball, which occurred during that trip, was altered in a particularly devious way.

Regarding that night, the prosecutor stated, "On the date of December twenty-seventh, two days after the defendant arrives home from Tokyo, he meets with coworkers at a local pool hall and bar called Cue Ball Pool Hall. While there, he encounters a few people of particular interest to this trial. He secretly records the conversations that he has with these people in order to gather personal information about them—information that he would later use to kill them!

"The first victim was Jerry Anderson, a twenty-one-year-old construction worker. Jerry lived at home with both of his parents and had a steady girlfriend, Rachelle Henest, nineteen. He had no criminal record of any kind. He was a good citizen, except for one night when he had a little too much to drink and lost control after losing a pool game, according to his friend, Richard Flores, twenty-five, who is willing to testify on his behalf.

"According to Richard, he and Jerry left the bar at two in the morning, forced out due to a confrontation they had with the defendant. Richard passed out during the trip home. He was eventually dropped off at home at 2:15 A.M., and his girlfriend, Jennifer, states that she was waiting at the door for him and helped him off to bed. She then watched Jerry drive off and head for home. Based on her testimony, we ruled out Richard and Rachelle as suspects in the case.

"But that was the last time that anyone saw Jerry Anderson alive.... At 6:35 in the morning, Jerry's father, Hernest, found him dead in his car from carbon monoxide poisoning—the engine was running and a tennis ball was shoved deep into the tailpipe. Police considered the incident a suicide until we discovered this piece of evidence that directly links his death to Jeb Maruso—the tape recording of their encounter at Cue Ball Pool Hall. Included on this tape is his encounter with Nina Juarez that same evening. I shall now play the tape for you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury!"

He then turned on the tape recorder for the courtroom to hear...and this is what we heard after the sound of the beep:

"Yes! We won! Whoo!" ( _Nina's voice_ )

"Thanks!" ( _my voice, and the sound of a stick dropping, followed by Rick grunting and crying out in pain as I slammed him into the floor_ )

"You bastard! I'm going to kill you if you don't let me go...now!"

"I don't think you'll be wanting any of this..." ( _my voice, now a barely audible whisper_ ) "...unless, that is, you and your buddy are ready for _death_!"

"Out of my way!" ( _the angry voice of Ted, the owner_ )

"Enough of this, okay, Rick?" ( _my voice, back to its regular tone_ )

"Okay! Okay!" ( _Rick's voice, now in agony_ )

"You two! Out of here, now!" ( _Ted's voice, screaming_ )

The tape recorder was turned off. The prosecutor then said, "Richard was then thrown out of the bar by the owner, and he and Jerry left....Mr. Maruso, however, was allowed to stay, as his friends convinced the owner that he was simply defending himself..."

After clearing his throat several times, he continued, "Nina Juarez was the second victim during Mr. Maruso's visit to the U.S., murdered only two nights later—the very night that Mr. Maruso headed back to Tokyo. Once there, he received several e-mails from Bryan White about the murder—Mr. White was apparently unaware that Mr. Maruso had killed Nina Juarez himself—and he subsequently stored the e-mails in his Drafts folder." He then proceeded to show the jury the news articles that I had saved onto the computer.

The prosecutor then added, "Now, Jeb Maruso's only comment to this tragic news is, 'Nina...she's dead! It wasn't just a dream! Well, I guess dreams really do come true, if you want them badly enough! I wonder what other types of powers lie dormant!'

"The 'dream' that Jeb Maruso refers to in this particular journal entry is the one that he referred to on the eighth of February, 2000...." He then proceeded to read aloud the journal entry that I had written after the dream in which I found Nina dying in the park.

"Nina was known by her family to take jogs, even during the wintertime," he continued, after reading the journal entry. In Nina's workout log that day, she checked off 'jogging'; and Jeb's own journals described the events exactly as they occurred eleven months later, including the fact that her heart was physically removed! The strong connection between the journal entry and the event once again implicates Mr. Maruso in the crime! That is all I have prepared for today, Your Honor; I will let the jury digest these facts...."

"No questions, Your Honor..." my attorney stated.

"Fine, then," said the judge. "Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at 9:30 A.M."

Over the course of the next few court sessions that week, the prosecutor pushed further into my accounts, claiming that I had kept the newspaper clippings of all the murders as souvenirs or trophies of my killing spree. He mentioned James Henderson, who, after killing his aunt and uncle, went to the Kwikee Food Mart in McCurrn and shot the owner—my old boss, Harry Higgins. James had confessed to the crimes but had claimed that voices in his head had told him to do it; a court psychologist had examined him and had deemed him to be "schizophrenic." However, he had unfortunately been allowed to stay at a minimum-security mental institution, from which he soon escaped; he must have had some outside help, for authorities were not able to locate his whereabouts until many months later, after he had emptied an UZI clip into the Prime Minister of Israel, Mordecai Shalem.

The prosecutor said, "Exactly why and how did James Henderson acquire a falsified State of Illinois drivers license with the name of "Victor Purdue," on it, get a passport, fly to Rome, and assassinate a man he had never met, a man he probably didn't even know or care about?

"Upon Jeb Maruso's return to Tokyo," he continued, "He is now fully aware that it is _he_ who is the killer in question!" He then proceeded to play the tape:

_MY VOICE:_ "The Solstice Slayer is the name I have given to a particular individual who is on a killing spree, even as I speak..... He is a serial killer that does in fact exist; I shall reveal his identity at a later time, for obvious reasons! But this slayer utilizes a certain pattern that is subtle to the naked eye—for all the authorities know is that there is quite possibly more than one killer in action, but they do not recognize the underlying pattern or the mastermind behind it all! There is only one true killer, but with many extensions..... I have also seen the victims in their final moment in life, and the utter joy that they felt when they saw their chosen 'God'! I have seen through their eyes the agony that they were forced to endure until the final moment of death, when hope seemed near! Just as their physical bodies died, their souls would rush forth in eager anticipation to greet their 'God'; but as the souls rejoiced, the illusion would fade away and I would then reveal myself for who I truly am—a master of illusion and necromancy—and then, I would consume the soul into my unholy medallion, absorbing all of their powers. You see, I am the Solstice Slayer, and I am following the same pattern as did Wylan Stochsky in _The Dragon's Realm_! But for the slayer, my fantasy and reality are intertwined...."

After turning off the tape, the prosecutor handed a clear plastic photo album to the jury to pass around. Meanwhile, the prosecutor said, "The following day, upon the twenty-first of March, Mr. Maruso flies back to the U.S. and brutally murders Matthew Quinn in the exact way that his 'angel' commands it—a literal crucifixion in a synagogue. As you can clearly see from those pictures, Jeb Maruso photographed the entire event....

"Horrific images, aren't they? You will notice that the defendant ensured that he himself was not revealed in the photos—but his fingerprints were found upon each and every one of them. We found the photos in a small manila envelope located in Mr. Maruso's private bank vault, and were granted a special search warrant by Judge Owens in order to obtain them.

"Now, two days after the murder of Matthew Quinn, Mr. Maruso flies back to Tokyo—we know this because we have the defendant's frequent-flier mileage tickets in our possession, and the timings of his flights perfectly match each and every murder that occurred during his three-year reign of terror—and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you may be surprised to know that the United States is not the only country that wishes to put Jeb Arthur Maruso on trial. Japan's government wants to try the defendant as well, for the brutal slaying of his martial arts instructor, Sensei Hagami, on the 5th of June."

"Not surprisingly," the prosecutor stated, "Toriyuki Hagami is, by all accounts, an outstanding and well-admired citizen of Japan. Today, we have with us, on call, a fellow student from that same dojo, Nashama Hogusi, who is willing to testify that he witnessed the tragedy first hand.... As you will soon learn, Jeb Maruso knew what he was doing—for he had a master plan! And that plan is nowhere near completion; it only gets worse—much, much worse! You will hear things that will have you gripping the sides of your seats in terror, as I dig ever deeper into the psychotic, twisted mind of Jeb Arthur Maruso!"

The prosecutor violently shook the tape recorder in both hands for a couple seconds, in order to draw the attention of the jurors, before saying, "What I am about to do is play for you the defendant's personal accounts, as to what transpired on the date of June the 6th of 2001 _._ Here it is."

_MY VOICE:_ "...Sensei then became furious, and he launched a successive wave of sword attacks upon me! I was barely able to defend myself by slapping the side of his sword with my broom handle, which was gradually turned into a pointed spear by blow after blow from Sensei's sword. Whoo! Just thinking about the experience gives me the goose bumps as I write this!

"After about a dozen or so swipes, I was finally able to throw a counterattack and send his sword flying! Instinctively, holding the broom handle in one hand, I wrapped my leg around the back of his, and with my free hand, I grabbed his neck and thrust him over the wrapped leg. He collapsed onto the ground and I was literally on top of him, spear in hand and held only an inch away from his throat....

"Breathing heavily, but remaining steady, I pleaded, 'Sensei...please don't fight me!' Instead of responding, Sensei began to laugh! My honor was violated by this disrespectful response—I was insulted that he should laugh at me even after I had bested him!

"Well, I regained my honor by plunging my broom handle two inches into his throat, and then absorbing his soul as well! Ha, ha! I am the Master now, as my powers have increased tenfold! There is no one that can stop me now!"

The prosecutor stopped the tape, before pouring himself a glass of water from a pitcher and drinking it. After setting the glass on the table, he walked over to the jury, cleared his throat, and then continued.

"I must reiterate to you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, that Jeb Maruso has made quite a name for himself, not just in this country, and not just in Japan—but I will not get into the politics, just yet. Let's stick with the timeframe!

"Just after his Sensei's murder, he flies back to the U.S. for the last time and ultimately converts another follower to his cause—and over the course of the next several weeks, Jeb convinces Jared Thompson to conduct a mass shooting at McBuck's fast-food restaurant. We now know who Jared is, but what we did not know, until now, is that Jeb Maruso was the one behind the scenes, carefully manipulating the young man to do his bidding.

"Jared was heading for nowhere in life, and all of a sudden, the famous and powerful Jeb Maruso came out of the woodwork, filling the boy's head with fantasies of grandeur; we speculate that this was Jeb's intention all along—to create a race of slaves to carry out his master plan!" He then read the newspaper accounts of Jared's failed attack at the fast-food restaurant, which was thwarted by my "heroics."

After handing the newspaper article to the bailiff, the prosecutor said, "And now we find, ladies and gentlemen, his solution to acquiring even more power. Through careful planning and manipulation of Jared Thompson, he knew where to be and when to be there, subduing his 'arch-nemesis' at the right time and then disappearing back into oblivion, ultimately appearing to be a hero to society! I will stop there for today, Your Honor."

"No questions, Your Honor," my defense attorney said, once again.

"Are you sure, Counselor?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Fine, then. Court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at 9:30 A.M."

The next day, the prosecutor picked up where he had left off the previous day. "On the twelfth of July, while on a 'business trip' of sorts, Jeb Maruso happens upon two girls, Shirley Green and Heather Jenkins, though he never directly mentions their names in his journal entry, and refers to his experience as a dream.

He then proceeded to read my journal entry, written upon the Star, recounting my dream about the redhead and the brunette in the hotel room:

"...Was it real? Or was it all a dream? Of that, I am not sure.... All of the specifics are really vague! If this dream was real, it certainly was a good one!"

He finished and then looked up at the jury. "Shirley Green and Heather Jenkins matched the very descriptions that I have just revealed to the court.... The two girls were found dead in a motel room in Indiana; they were on their way back from a concert when they crossed paths with Jeb Maruso. He writes about the incident several days later while relaxing upon his newly purchased boat!

"And not long after, he finalizes his plan to take out Vicky and, ultimately, Bryan! He invites them along on a sailing excursion to the Bahamas, and during the trip, Vicky comes down with a mysterious illness, which Jeb claims is related to food poisoning; she would later fall into a comatose state from this 'food poisoning,' and she has not awakened since!

"Upon the second of August, Jeb Maruso flies back alone to the United States and decides to pay Jared Thompson a visit on the day before his trial. What was said between the two is unknown, but later that night, Jared Thompson inexplicably hangs himself within his own cell—with Jeb Maruso's next pupil, Miguel Malverez, already set to operate!

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, we all know about Mr. Malverez and his gang-related activity, so I will not go further into it. But I will explain just how Miguel Malverez and Jeb Maruso are connected.... They go back, way back to before any of us had heard either of their names—back to the beginning of _The Black Journals_. At the time, Miguel Malverez's alias on the streets was 'Mickey'; Jeb Maruso kept track of all of his 'followers' but only mentions him once near the beginning—I shall now play for you the recording:"

He then turned on the tape recorder for the courtroom to hear.

_MY VOICE:_ "November 29, 1999. Tonight is going to be a blast! I have called Terence, Mickey, and Vinnie and asked them if we were going to party as planned! Of course, they agreed, but I had to be sure that the stuff was in! X is the most potent aphrodisiac ever known, and I have many, many things to accomplish with it!"

The tape recorder was then turned off. "And, of course," the prosecutor continued, "We all know about Miguel Malverez and the Avenging Solstites. The State has recently uncovered yet another piece of evidence that ties the Avenging Solstites to the Order of the Solstice Slayers: the medallion that Miguel wore around his neck. Miguel and Jeb's fingerprints were both found all over it. Jared Thompson wore that same medallion. And so did Jimmy Henderson. There is your Order of the Solstice Slayers, labeled as "The OSS" by the defendant! A spiritual group dedicated to the pursuits of truth? Hogwash!

"What we should be focusing on, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, are the 42 victims that Jeb Maruso murdered, or had their murders committed for him." He then slowly read out the list that contained the forty-two names. After a short pause, he then added, "And of course the many other families who must now grieve, for the losses that they've suffered at the hands of this psychotic terrorist! It is this State's fullest opinion that the defendant, Jeb Maruso, was behind each and every one of the forty-two counts of murder that he is formally charged with, and with evidence of more murders still to come!

"The Commonwealth rests, Your Honor," the prosecutor concluded, before sitting down.

My defense attorney had remained completely quiet, without a single objection or cross-examination attempt the whole time—needless to say, I was worried!

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he stood up, and as he began walking toward the jury, he stated, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you have seen, I have said nothing throughout the prosecution's analysis of Jeb Maruso's accounts, and there is a very good reason for this...

"To begin with, the prosecution's argument sounds too good—or too bad—to be true, don't you think? If Jeb Maruso is the mastermind behind these heinous crimes, why would he record anything whatsoever? Abstractly or not, that is about the stupidest thing you could do! He was able to fool family, friends, and even enemies through his wit and charm? Well, from what the witnesses have had to say, Jeb Maruso has no wit and he has no charm. He has been described as a low-life scumbag. Can any such man be guilty of such a complicated plot? Let us suppose that he is innocent... That would mean that the real killer is still out there, and that there might be more killings in the future! And at that point, it will be even harder to track the killer, as the path goes cold!

"Let's go back to the journals for a minute... How hard do you think it would be, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, to crack into a word processing program? There are computer hackers all over the world, breaking into all sorts of high-security Web sites and databases; certainly, just about anyone could break into a word processing program on a personal computer. And that is what I believe happened to poor Jeb Maruso—someone wanted to frame him, so they broke into his computer files and tampered with them to make him look guilty!

"Certainly, there are many other questions that one must ponder in order to find the truth—but these are the very questions that have been skirted throughout this trial. If Jeb Maruso has been framed, then just who are the framers? What is their motive in all of this? To destroy one man's life? Or is there something much more powerful and sinister in the making? These are the types of issues that I am almost ready to present to the court, to prove the defendant's innocence beyond all shadow of a doubt! But as it is late today, Your Honor, I wish to resume my case first thing tomorrow morning when all our minds are fresh." My attorney then sat next to me at the table.

The judge said, "Fine, Counselor...we shall adjourn for today and resume court tomorrow morning...."

At that point, I felt that winning was truly possible! But I wasn't the only one who thought this.... A demonic visitor—none other than the Solstice Slayer himself—came to see me in my jail cell that very night; and the things that were discussed were not very nice at all! Of course, the conversation took place in the astral plane. In short, I was spiritually handcuffed with the threat of indescribable pain and suffering that would be levied not against me but against those whom I loved the most—my two nieces, my brother, his wife, even Niko—if I continued to maintain my innocence or allowed my attorney to do so through his arguments in court.

I laughed when Niko's name was mentioned, as I had the utmost confidence that she could handle any attacker; but I was immediately reminded of Sensei Hagami's death and was warned that his death would be nothing compared to the cruel suffering that his only daughter would receive, with no one to protect her, and no one to warn her, and with me stuck in the correctional facility!

Finally, I gave in to the contest of wills between the Slayer and myself. Immediately after my guest's departure, I requested a phone call with my defense attorney and informed him that I was releasing him from duty. When he asked why, I merely said, "Because I wish to represent myself unto the world!" I could hear his fading voice protesting as I hung up the phone—and so it came to pass that I became my sole representative in my battle against the state and against the prejudice that had solidified within the hearts and minds of the world....

I was herded into the courtroom the next day. My attorney took a seat behind me and asked me once again if I would reconsider my move; I shook my head and explained to him that I had no choice, and that if I elaborated upon the reason for my sudden dismissal of him, he, too, would lose all conviction that I was indeed innocent. The judge then banged her gavel upon the table and ordered all to be silent. I remember her asking me if I was sure that I wanted to represent myself in this trial—I answered that I was more than competent, and willing, to represent myself.

"Well, I'll allow it." the judge said. She then asked, "Do you wish to call any witnesses to the stand, Mr. Maruso?"

"Yes, Your Honor," I said, standing up to face her. "I wish to call myself to the stand!"

"Mr. Maruso, you realize that by doing this, the prosecutor will be allowed to cross-examine you, right?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor," I declared. After being sworn in, I took my seat upon the witness stand and spoke: "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, members of the courtroom...I am Jeb Arthur Maruso! I am that which you hate. I am that which you despise and hold in contempt. I am that which lies under your bed and lurks in your darkest nightmares. Please...kill me! For I am your sinner, as I am guilty of murder; I am not just any murderer, but indeed I am your mastermind behind many, many more slayings than just the forty two I've been officially charged with—indeed, I am guilty of two hundred and nine one additional murders—the true Solstice Slayer! Why did we, the Order of the Solstice Slayers, arrange the deaths of three hundred and thirty three murders in three years? Why do I want you to execute me? Because I am the beast—'six, six, six!' After my death, I shall arise again—and it has also been prophesied that I shall indeed take over the world; I am your Satan; and soon enough, I shall become your God! Little children...elderly folks...and all ages in between! It was lots of fun! You %$#@ suckers!" I started to cry and to laugh at the same time, and the courtroom was abuzz with noise as the shocked hum of the audience mingled with my sobs and cackles.

"Order in the court!" the judge cried, banging her gavel on the table. "Mr. Maruso, you will be held in contempt for your improper conduct here—"

"Who gives a %$#@?! Hold me in contempt, %$#@! When I come back from the dead, it'll be your ass I come looking for first, %$#@!" I screamed, standing up and leaning menacingly toward the judge's desk. Within seconds, the security guards had grabbed me, handcuffed me, and dragged me out of the courtroom, kicking and screaming a colorful barrage of profane insults at the judge, the jury, the audience, and of course, my captors.

It took the jury twenty minutes to find me guilty on all counts, only minutes before the judge sentenced me to death, which "date" would be determined at a later time. The current date was, not coincidentally, September 21, 2002.

## Chapter XV

The End and The Beginning

[9/25/02 – Death Row Journal]

Cleanse my mind....Open my heart....Not working! Frustration sets in as I'm cooped up here in Death Row! Eternities have passed since I last felt free—I need to think of positive things, to realign myself! Sands...Seas...Islands...Oceans...Niko...Cleanse my mind...Open my heart—damn it, still not working!

Maybe I should just kill myself now! Eternities will pass until my execution date and I feel so depressed, especially now that her image has passed before me.

Snap out of it, Jeb! All I need to do is see Niko again! She is the love of my life and I need to tell her this, even though the world hates me, and she probably does, too!

[9/27/02 – Death Row Journal]

_I spill my soul out to you, and anxiously await Your response_....I am guilty as charged, dear God! Are there any out there who are truly innocent, after all? Maybe.....I doubt it, however. Never did I get a hand when I was in need of it....Never did I get thanks from any of the people that I helped when they were in need....Of course I snapped! Couldn't help myself.....Ever watch an ant struggling in its last seconds of life? Now I must confess again that I am a killer....

[9/29/02 – Death Row Journal]

Today was an interesting day....Oh, surprises do happen, and especially frequently to someone like me! For an unexpected visitor showed up to speak to me.... The guard was nice enough to tell me just who that visitor was, on the way up to the visitation area—a minister, Henry Cole.

Hearing this particular man's name gave me a jolt—I mean.... Expect the unexpected, right? Coming into the small, secure visitation room for death row inmates, I was yet again surprised upon seeing him through the separating bulletproof glass. Red—and I mean striking red—hair, with small, beady eyes to match, were his salient features...and as for the rest of him, he was medium-built and looked to be in his late forties—nothing like I had expected!

I could feel a strong defensive barrier around him, allowing no one to get through to him psychically! More than likely, I mused, it was a result of his Christian apocalyptic beliefs than from any meditation rituals, but it was there—and strong! Even through this barrier, however, I could sense a fragility to his inner mechanics—and I definitely wanted to know what made this man tick and why he was here!

"So..." he began, after we had taken our seats across from each other, on either side of the thick glass window. "The time has come for us to finally meet, Jeb Maruso." His mouth smiled at me with warmth, but his eyes remained cold and impenetrable...like someone else I know!

"Alright, then..." I responded, playing his game, "The time has come...."

He glanced down at the table for a moment, and then looked up again and asked, "As I know you, by paying close attention to your works within the world, do you know me or mine?" Vigorously shaking my head, I said nothing and only listened. Even his cold eyes could not suppress a slight smile from forming on my lips.

"Before we come to the matter at hand, I must divulge the reason for my visiting you today.....Early in my life, I knew that I had a special purpose for being here, though I did not know what it was. Eventually, that purpose became clear after I was saved and became a minister of God—and that purpose primarily revolves around you and your upcoming decisions, Jeb Maruso.... Now is the _T_ ime to ask _H_ im to come into your life, and to save your soul—and the rest will follow!"

"Really...," I sighed.

"Understand that the end times are here, Jeb—search deeper into the events occurring throughout the world, and you will see that Satan is preparing for his final war with God—the outcome of which, not coincidentally, rests upon you!"

"So what you are telling me?" I asked, after a moment. "That, even with all the horrible acts of violence that I have committed, I can still be saved?"

"Undeniably so," he answered. Placing my cuffed hands onto the glass-paneled counter, I leaned in towards Henry.

"Oh," I said, pretending to consider his words, "Now let me remind you about something. _M_ r. Cole! _E_ ver since I was born, I've been hated and persecuted _by humankind_.....That has never changed! He, the man you refer to as Jesus, would never accept me, nor has he—if he even exists!"

"Even someone such as yourself, Jeb..." he interrupted, "...can be forgiven, if you but confess your crimes before God!" The look that crossed my face was a slightly irritated one.

"Really? Understand this, Mr. Cole....Ever since I was young, I prayed to the man you speak of, but he never answered; and I was baptized so that I could hear his voice, but I never did; and so I became an apostate, and learned about other religions and cultures, other people and their ways of life; and I learned many things about them and grew successful in life, acquiring a balance within and without myself...and ultimately, I still ended up here, in a death row cell, condemned to death as the _Solstice Slayer_! _Can_ someone such as me, a confessed killer, _be_ forgiven?" I finished.

"Dear brother, yes!" he answered emphatically. "If you surrender your will to Jesus and then confess your sins before him, and if you ask for redemption of your sins and then receive him into your life, then your soul can truly be saved!"

"Surely, my 'brother,' you jest...for I gave your Jesus a chance to reveal himself to me, but he did not come....and so I explored other realms of existence, and discovered other 'beings' that co-exist with us, and they showed me the true records of Jesus and his mission—records that got distorted by the greed, power, and prejudices of ordinary people, and by false translations between languages—and because of these experiences, I believe that my soul is quite safe...though my life is not!" I laughed.

Covering his mouth with his right hand, he began tapping on his cheek with his index finger. "Oh..." he said, while continuing this motion for a few seconds; and then, his face contorted and he yelled, "Verily, I say unto you, it would have been better had you not been born! Ever more do I know who you are—and I know your 'mark!'"

"Really, now..." I countered, smiling. "Exactly what do you mean?"

"Does the term, 'Antichrist' ring a bell?" he asked. _From_ the tone of his voice, I knew that he was trying to get a particular response from me, but I wasn't going to give it to him! Deciding that this man was a quack, I began to laugh! Ever more did his face become serious, his eyes squinting almost menacingly. "Christ can still save you....It's not too late! Please give your heart to _H_ im! Even now—"

"Really," I interrupted, "I am totally confused now, for one minute you're telling me that I can be saved, and the next minute you're telling me that I am the Antichrist, and then you're telling me that I can be saved again!" Never before had I felt like slapping someone, until that very moment.

"God works in mysterious ways, Jeb Maruso..." he said, his eyes softening and a smile forming on his lips again. " _This_ I know, for the Bible tells me so; little ones to Him belong, you are weak but He is strong...yes, Jesus loves you...yes, Jesus—" Smiling back at him, I stood up to leave and interrupted his childish song. "Evidently, this meeting is concluded. Come guards! Remove this insane man and his babbling!"

"Ever hear of a book entitled, _'Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_?' he cooed, just as the guards were about to lead him away. Turning back to face him, I extended my index finger and motioned for the guards to wait a moment.

"Maybe..." I answered.

"Ever hear of a man named Victor Plush?" he continued—my face must have betrayed my shock at hearing Victor's name, and Henry took advantage of the moment. "Sit down, then, if you want to hear more, son!" he boomed. Soon I was grounded in my chair. As I stared at him, intent on finding out just how he knew of the man, he continued to smile, knowing that he had me for awhile longer.

"Good," he said. "Eager to hear more, are we? And now," he continued, after the guards had left, "Now are you ready to listen to the truth? During the course of your trial, it was concluded that the 'Order' that you wrote about in your journals was only a figment of your imagination—but that is something that I must contend with, based on my own inside knowledge...."

"Tell me how you know this!" I interjected.

"How I know," he said, "Encompasses so many sources, yet has only one simple answer. Nearly fifteen years have passed since I myself 'became.' _Following my instructions to the 'T_ ,' much as you do now, I found myself rapt in the falsities of the Order. _That is_....I was so convinced by the Order's claim that they 'want those who want them _F_ irst,' that I failed to see the trap that had been set for me—"

" _You want to know the truth about the real killer? The one truly responsible for the deaths of your loved ones, your friends, and, yes, even some of your foes?_ " I interrupted, unable to control myself any longer. He glanced up at me balefully, and then his face softened again. "Everything has an explanation," he said, "Really, it does...but please sit down and tell me...."

Exploding at his pathetic, smug expression, I slammed the phone into the glass window as hard as I could! Alerted, the guards were on me instantly, grabbing me by the arms and head, and then slamming the side of my face down onto the table.

"Really now, I think that the time has come for this meeting to adjourn," he said, unable to continue with all the noise. "Eventually, we shall have another meeting, Jeb...." he concluded. _The_ guards then whisked me back to my cell.

Frustration....Anger....

Confusion....These are the emotions that set me off....

Satan?

[10/02/02 – Death Row Journal]

_The place: McCurrn's Death Row Facility_! Milestones have finally been reached here in "hell." And in this particular case, I can say that it is in regards to someone special. I know this. Now, more than ever, do I need a friend. Even more do I need a woman, someone to embrace and to cry upon....

Niko....That is the woman to whom I refer. Right now, she is boarding a flight to the United States. And she is coming to visit me! Not even a year and a half ago, her father—Sensei Hagami—was tragically murdered, and she, being filled with incredible sorrow and anguish, disappeared into oblivion to mourn the loss of her beloved father; I don't blame her. Considering the 'overwhelming 'evidence' against me, and the proceedings that she probably witnessed on television—my quick trial and psychotic confession—it was no wonder that she never picked up her phone when I tried to call. Even my dojo—my clan, my family, anyone and everyone—would hang up on me once they heard my voice....

_The_ thing that finally convinced her to visit me were the successive letters that I mailed to her last known address, describing the sorrow that I felt at the death of our sensei, and stating that I will never forget the honor of knowing the man in life.... _Time_ and again, I sent those letters... _6_ times... _6_ times... _6_ times....Perhaps she had moved! Maybe she just threw the envelopes in the garbage can, after seeing who they were from!

On the day before yesterday, however, I received a phone call—she hadn't moved! Neither had she thrown a single letter away! _The_ love that I feel for her shall last forever, shall shine within my heart...in my soul... in my desires...for all time and beyond....

Damn! Already, paranoia and irrationality are setting in—should I be afraid that she might just be coming here to finish me off? Truly....Everyone hates me.... _Of_ that, I'm sure...but my last hope is that _she_ doesn't!

_June 24th 2004_ , I will be dead, however, and it won't even matter! _Even though I will already have been executed by this time_ , what difference does it all make? _My_ life is already finished.... _Game_ over.

[10/10/02 – Death Row Journal]

Seventy minutes ago, my eyes crossed over the most-beautiful figure of Niko. Heart fluttering and eyes rolling back, I doubted my waking moment! Already, I could feel tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes....Never before, and never again, would I ever behold a being of such magnificence!

The truth is, I then became quite frustrated....Because it was then that I realized where I was....Even more so, I realized who I was! Opening myself to my emotions, I was forced to sit down. Vehemently, I cried....Even tears began to pour down my cheeks—tears that I had sworn long ago never to shed again....

Ripping my hands through my hair, not caring if I pulled them out or not, my frustration and sadness finally overtook me.... _The_ air then began to pulsate around me, surrounding me with a strange feeling of peace. Peeling my gaze up from the table, I was jolted by the sight of Niko sitting down and staring at me quite calmly! Electromagnetic energy pulsed from her body.....Radiating through the window between us, it was just enough! Soothing, it was...and just then, another sensation hit me—Opiate fragrances emanated from the perfume that she was wearing! Never before had I felt so calm....

Just then, I was no longer in my body, no longer on Death Row....On a new plane of existence never previously encountered, or even conceived, in my mind, I found myself. How I had gotten to this "heavenly realm," I did not know, but I suspected that the perfume _N_ iko was wearing might have been a contributing factor....

Dimensionally complex blobs of light floated around me, giving this new realm the look of a lava lamp! Bright oranges mixed with ravishing reds and sky blues....Even some purples found their way into the mix....I realized that all of the colors of the rainbow were represented in these blobs.....Considering the fact that all of my powers had been mysteriously stripped away, I was amazed by this elevation to a higher plane. All since the day of my initial apprehension, I had spiraled only downward. Nearly, madness overtook me in my shackled state.

Then, at that moment, I felt free....Really, truly was I free! Erupting out of thin air, Niko appeared off in the distance in this higher realm.

Vibrantly, she leapt toward me with the prowess of a feline!

Energetically, she said, "All of you is now mine!"

Love filled my heart and I felt divine....

This I know from the bottom of my soul....

How it has truly made me full!

I also now know the truth....

Spoof, spoof, spoof....

_Even here_ , in this erotic hell,

Before you now, with a tale to tell,

Eventually, all will go well,

Considering this tale upon which you may dwell!

Anyway, I am tired....Unveil more later! Sleepy-time....

[10/25/02 – Death Row Journal]

Even though I went to bed feeling fine, I woke up ten minutes ago with sharp pains in my stomach....Oh, the pain! Four minutes went by, the pain increasing drastically, until I began to have dry heaves....However, I do not feel much better—what malady is this that plagues me now? _Is_ it possible that I was indeed poisoned by the slayer, along with Bryan and Vicky, and am only now succumbing to its power, as my _heightened psychic abilities_ are gone?

_He_ is back again, haunting me in my dreams—conspiring...ravaging...raping...and ultimately, murdering all of my friends with his diabolical schemes.... _Is_ it possible that, perhaps, I've just been insane the whole time?

'... _A diabolically evil magician with considerable power, even though those powers are stolen_...' – _The Dragon's Realm_.

_If I were to reveal the character's name in even an encrypted form, he would be able to thwart my plans, thus preventing this from reaching you_....

Jack the Ripper! Oh, that it would be so easy! He would rip you into shreds, too, if you knew him as I do! Never before has such evil existed within one man....

Dare I mention that he is, in reality, the Antichrist? Or that I am, in all reality, innocent? Even more tempting, so that my name could be cleared—Should I be so lucky? Aw, that I should be so lucky!

The time has come for me to vomit again....To what latest sin do I give credit for receiving this punishment? I am not feeling well....Really, I am not feeling well at all....

[11/02/02 – Death Row Journal]

Ever more has my health deteriorated—the doctors strongly suspect that it's a result of the drugs I've used during my life. _Will_ I be dying before my scheduled date, however, from an even more mysterious disease that is eating me from the inside out? Can I be healed of this condition, only to be executed at the end of next month?

Oh, what a sight I shall be to the world when they see me looking this way on my execution date....Needless to say, they shall be ever more convinced that I must be the killer! So they shall say.....I am the Solstice Slayer, perhaps even the Antichrist himself? So they shall say....

Two months to go! One form of death will get me first, but which one?

Funeral attire: _A three-piece suit with charcoal gray stripes; gold-tinted sunglasses; a red rose tucked into the jacket pocket; black leather sandals; a black leather briefcase, with my initials engraved into the gold plate next to the combination lock. The briefcase will contain the very journals that you are reading now, my true accounts of the past several years_....oh, don't I wish! All I will be dying in is my correctional uniform, in my diseased, decrepit condition!

'Death does not part, only lack of love.'

'Death is the gateway to the realm of the supra-conscious.'

'If it were not for death, this world would become too crowded!'

'The one sobering fact of life is the inevitable occurrence of death!'

[11/05/02 – Death Row Journal]

I had an "old" friend stop by here today....Oh yes! None other than Henry Cole again! ' _Ally_ or enemy?' I wondered, on my trip up to the visitation room. _The_ medications that the doctors have given me haven't been working! Perhaps Henry thought that our last conversation made me this way, because a look of triumph was evident in his eyes!

"Ever since our last conversation," he began, "New signs have manifested all over the world....The nations of Israel and Palestine, despite your 'progressive peace plan,' are once again at war with each other.....As for the rest of the world, there are wars and the rumors of wars spreading like wildfire! God works in mysterious ways, and the end times are clearly near and still revolving around you!"

"Really?" I hummed. " _Am_ I still the Antichrist, as you labeled me upon our last visit?"

"Well...yes, and no," he answered. "In the present, no....Later on, yes!"

"Later on, yes?!" I hissed. "But what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Everyone has a purpose on this planet, Jeb Maruso..." he stated. " _Found_ deep within you is still a soul....Once you open yourself up to Jesus, that soul can be saved. Never before has there been a better time for you—but soon after, that choice will pass you by, and many will suffer for it!"

"Hell will be awaiting me, yes?" I asked. I knew what his answer would be, but I just wanted to hear it from his voice.

"Surely, you know what will befall your body, once the life has gone out of it, don't you?" he asked. Putting on my best face, I tried to conceal my bewilderment; but eventually, I shook my head, as he had thrown me for a loop.

"Even to the present date, human cloning processes have always failed. Really, that is why the human race is looked at with shame by god! Since the fall of Adam, we have always tried to create life without the sanctity of marriage and without god! Only now, our 'alchemy' is classified as 'chemistry,' as our 'holistic medicine' was once classified as 'witchcraft;' same thing, really...but with you and in that particular time, the procedure will work!"

"Never!" I objected.

" _Hidden from view_ , the experiment will take place—the process of genetically cloning a human body—with your DNA isolated from your dead tissues...and when that new body is brought to life, it will be soul-less, and the perfect habitation for the devil...and the Antichrist shall be born! _He will be wearing it underneath his garments, around his neck_ —the 'hidden mark,' 666!"

" _This item_ , my mark..." I said, while pulling the correctional shirt down to show him the tattoo on my shoulder, "...shows the number 777, as you can clearly see...."

"Ah, that is true, for now. Leave it to a new body to remove the tattoos of the former _one_.... _Will_ your new body choose to perhaps get a new tattoo? _Clearly_ , one that reveals the 'mark of the beast!'

"Please...stop right there! Right now, I shall tell you something....Or, rather, I shall prove to you that what you say cannot be the ultimate truth!" I challenged. Veering my gaze into his eyes, I breathed in and out slowly and said, "Everything has a purpose to it, yes—but not in the way that you think! The truth is out there, and so is God. However, He is not who you think He is! Indeed, there is one creator of this universe, and I have become 'one' with Him! So it is His will that I am here. Maybe I will die, physically....And maybe I will die, mentally....Never will I die spiritually....So it is Our Will! I know that you do not believe this, but indeed, I am a Master!"

"No, you're not!" he yelled, temporarily losing control of himself. "Verily, at this time, should I reveal to you the Truth! Oh, what you claim sounds so good, but it's not true....Lucifer has confused your mind into thinking this....Verily, I am the author of _'Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_!' Ever was I once Sir Henry Bateman! Many, many years ago...."

"Even this, I know, and I have known it since the beginning," I informed him. "Now do I stand at the threshold of death, and soon shall I know what lies beyond....This stage of life is merely an illusion, and that is the truth! _The_ truth that shall set me free!"

"So..." he said, defeated. "I see that you have made your decision, in regards to Jesus. This is a decision that, I promise, you shall truly regret!"

"Understand this, Mr. Cole," I said, "As I said before, things aren't exactly what they seem! The Jesus that I know declares, 'let he who is without sin cast the first stone!' I must applaud you on your efforts with your first book. Oh, how you have shown me so much! Now, I must ask you, what was it that made you doubt all that you had created in the pursuit for the ultimate truth?"

"Jesus..." he answered, shaking his head. "Oh, I can see that your poor mind has severely been warped by 'them.' How I wish that every last copy of my book had been destroyed! Now I am forced, yet again, to see exactly what 'fruit' has been borne of my labors....Did you know that I was the one who demanded unto the order that _Magick_ be destroyed? Oh yes, they did agree to it...but also, because of my demands perhaps sounding like threats to them, they decided to take actions into their own hands and poisoned my little boy! Even when they visited me at the hospital, in my unconscious son's room, they attempted to bring me back! When I refused, they fed him more of the poison, and soon thereafter, he died!"

" _I'll_ _be_ damned..." I breathed in sharply. "Ever wonder why all of this happened to you?"

"So that I could be here today, with you," he answered. "Come back to the light before you are forever cast in darkness!" One minute passed before I said a word—Right then, I was attempting to secretly enter into his mind! Then, luckily, he let his defenses down for a moment! Ever was I amazed at what I saw....

Dawn surfaced over the morning sky and I could see a young, vibrant man in his early twenties, with beaming red hair—indisputably Henry in his youth. Behind him lay four different-colored candles, one in each of the four quadrants, and a circle could be seen, probably constructed from colored salt. Yet something about it seemed incomplete...looking closely at the boundary, I could see a miniscule break in it, and through this break, the ground itself could be seen—probably from the wind blowing it, or from Henry perhaps having accidentally kicked the area—but regardless, it prevented the circle from being complete, and safe! The physically-built man extended his arms outward and towards the heavens.

"Who are you? Oh God, I have called upon your name countless times—Please answer me! Right now, I feel so scared! Oh, that I should call myself a "Master" within the OSS! Maybe the formulas that I used are wrong? I need to know if what I have written in my composition, _Magick: The Forbidden Fruit_ , is true! Now is the time for a revelation, if such a time exists! Ever more will I serve thee, if thou will but take me unto thee...."

Nothing happened for a long time....The frustrated man began to go crazy, screaming out in anger—but then, from the heavens, two prominent _figures_ descended towards him— _one youthful, with modernistic dress style filled with vibrant colors; the other ancient and conservative by comparison, wearing mainly gray and black tones_. They both glowed with aetheric qualities!

"Hello, Henry!" the youthful one greeted, "Exactly how are you at this point in time?"

"I am confused...and scared...and angry! Right now, I feel as if my head is about to explode!" he answered.

"Now, now..." the elderly one suggested, "As always, time is the healer of all wounds! Maybe you just need a vacation, a get-away to collect your thoughts and settle your emotions!" Even then, I had no clue as to who these two other people were, and why they were talking to Henry during his time of agony; it was also not clear how Henry seemed to know who they were....

"So what will a vacation do me?" Henry sneered. " _And_ to what end, for soon enough, I will have to come back to this hell-hole again!"

The younger one answered, "I think that it would be best if you settled down! Time and again, have we not answered your calls? Let us console you, as we are your guardian angels!"

"Eventually, your problems will be solved, if you continue to believe in yourself and in your place within the cosmos! So what really is at stake here? Aggravations and roads that lead to nowhere?" the elder one asked.

"Really!" raged Henry. "Each and every day, I wonder whether my formulas actually work or not, and whether my beliefs are true or not—for I have no proofs, and I have few signs—and I wonder whether I am real or not, for I am forced to live amongst slobs, heathens, and worthless animals who care nothing about anyone other than themselves, and who have poisoned my son, and I am here, instead of being where I and my son truly belong, in the heavens, with the other Ascended Masters! Now is the time to take us up to see God, face to face! Oh, now is indeed the time, Michael and Gabriel!"

"Then renounce your self and all that you are!" the younger one said. "Surrender your pride, your will, and your Magick unto Jesus! Open your heart and he shall lead you towards the heavens and the face of your God...and you shall also learn of your purpose as our next messenger in these end-times—for the beast has arisen, and his next move is to use tainted stock, to kill it, and to reproduce with it—his way of proving to God that he, too, can create life!"

"I see..." Henry hummed, "Maybe, then, I truly do have a purpose for being here!"

"Potentially, yes..." the elder one replied, "Only if you and your free will choose to accept the role that has been assigned for you by fate and by God!"

"Really?" Henry asked. "Then at this moment in time do I renounce all that I am and all that I can become, and surrender myself to Jesus, laying all of my sins before him to forgive; I shall tell the Order that I officially resign, and then I shall write another book to counteract the damage I have caused with _Magick_ , though I don't know how just yet!"

"As it should be..." the elder one said. "Now seek, within the apocalyptic book of Revelations, the 'signs of the times,' and then you will learn of what you must do to discover, perhaps, the solution to humanity's bleak future!"

"Though be wary of Satan and his angels, Henry!" the youthful one added. "Evil will soon recognize you as a threat and it will strike at you in many ways—it might even attempt to lure you back into its corner, only to decimate you and spread your remains across the nine planes of hell! ' _X_ ' you out, if you know what I mean!"

Chilled, Henry looked at each of the two angels with a grim face, asking, "Enlighten me about the fate of my only son before you go!"

"Proverbially speaking, 'The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge', Henry..." the elder angel stated, as they floated their way back up to the heavens....

_For_ the next minute, I silently watched young Henry as he stood there, his eyes closed and his breathing deep....Then, out of the blue, Henry turned and looked towards me....He looked different somehow, but it was only the look in his eyes—Eliminated from his eyes was every color, as they were stark white—the absence of all colors!

"I see you!" hummed Henry, "Really, I do! Satan! I will beat you! Now this, I swear—God is my ally and you shall inevitably be defeated! Understand this also—Leave my son alone! Aphoristically speaking, God will destroy you, and that destruction will hurt so much more if a single hair is hurt upon my child! Remember my words...."

Presently, Henry had become aware that I was 'inside' his mind—Under the circumstances, he became very angry! Really, that is an understatement, because he proceeded to slam his hands into the glass window, full force, shaking me out of my trance—and having been alerted by the noise, the guards came running over to check out the situation!

Prior to the guards removing me from the visitation room, this is what I was allowed to say: "OH, Henry—So now I have seen your proven effectiveness at 'witnessing.' Even now do I see a broken man, with so much hatred towards someone he doesn't even know—which certainly was not the way of the Christ—all you have been looking for all of these years, since your last conversion and the death of your son, is _the complete destruction of me—my journals, my reputation, my integrity, my life...and, yes, even my soul_! Truly, I feel that you do not really want me to be 'saved....'

"However, on a parting note, let me say this: Each and every religion is really about one thing—though the methods differ accordingly—Discovery and the hopeful union of humankind with God! Every messiah that preaches to love your neighbor as yourself, to love the Creator with your heart, mind, and soul, I fully support, despite my own calamity! Perhaps I am wrong in some sort of technical way, perhaps with respect to the name or the identity of just who and what the Creator is, but I am willing to take that chance, because my heart is wide open and waiting....

And I now no longer hate anyone, not even my own particular enemy, though I do recognize the fact that he needs to be stopped—thanks to you! Really, though, even if they do fashion another body from my DNA, that doesn't make that person 'me.' Try to treat people with a certain amount of respect, without judging them! I know that it is not too late for you, if you can learn how to find peace within yourself first! Now I must say farewell, Henry—Go now and make your peace with the Maker, before it becomes too late for you!"

Veered, I was, back into my cell, at least physically—but never again, spiritually!

[11/09/02 – Death Row Journal]

Even now do I feel as if death is about to overtake me! However, I still breathe...if but for the moment....I hope that Niko comes to visit me tomorrow!

Can I do it? Love has finally gripped me—Ever more do I want to marry her.... _A white limousine_ for us to parade in, while her lavish wedding gown floats magically in the air! The smell of her perfume, one that can tame a wild beast! Her long black hair hanging delicately down her back, wrapped in light colorful bows that only accentuate her light tan face! Ever more should I wish to kiss those full lips upon that smooth face! I could only wish that such a scene might have become true for me....Realistically, however, I can't. Death row has stopped all of that! Earlier, I might have been able to escape—before the 'poisoning,' that is—but regardless of why I chose not to escape, I am now weakened to the point where escape is impossible! Please let her show up....

Anyway, though my 'dream wedding' will never come, I will still ask her to marry me! Romance is in the heart, and that's the most important fact to remember! Truly said, Jeb Maruso.....Understanding, despite the extreme pain that I must constantly endure now, will only strengthen my spirit in the afterlife! Rightly said, Jeb Maruso...Ever more will my reality become a dream, as death tightens her grip upon me, like an eagle upon the snake, my last nightmare occurring at... _Time: 2:38 P.M._!

" _How is it that you know all of this?" you ask_. "Really, and even without an alarm clock?"

"Oh....We have many ways of finding things out!" I answer.

_Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream....Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream_.

How is it that I have been having such horrible nightmares, but never remember the details during my waking moments? Or that I have not been able to take down even oatmeal during my day-mares? When will true liberty come? _Do I know_ what 'liberty' really is? _That_ fact remains that my life has been taken before it even began.

Truly, I cannot wait for human company again—tomorrow! How I need Niko! Ever more, am I sad and lonely! So, in her alone, can I say that I have finally discovered the sole source of my liberty? Ever more, yes!

[11/10/02 – Death Row Journal]

"Just married" signs are going to be posted all over the world, in honor of Niko and myself! Oh, yes, there will be some preparations needed, but not too many. Under other circumstances, there would have been many, many more, but prison life has liberated me from having to worry about the excess that accompanies wealth and freedom! Really, I was surprised when she said, "Yes!"

Niko and I are to be wedded, until death and for life! As husband and wife...through the pain and beyond the strife!

Love, love, love, love...ever more do I love! So what if I sound like a kid who's discovered a dove? _Are not_ we entitled to at least one moment of happiness? For what will the world say when they discover all of this? Announce it, they will, across the earth, the heavens and beyond! Bringing forth my name to the minds of both kings and spawns...

Really, will they hate me—will they try to reduce me further? I have been dubbed "her father's killer," the "insane master thriller!" Come to think of it.... All will ask, "What madness is this?" Twisting the truth, while twisting their colorful twirls... Eschewing that condemned murderers marry our little girls...

"Despise me, then," do I declare! "Constant I shall be, for my word to share! Oh, you shall soon see... Perceptions dissipate, as my love flourishes eternally! I know this to be reality, evermore to be supra-reality! Eternally, omnisciently, blissfully, transcendentally for thee! So you shall soon see...promise I to thee...."

[11/18/02 – Death Row Journal]

_As you_ know, I have been diagnosed with a mysterious terminal disease....Some months now, apparently, has this process been eating away at my insides...but I didn't know about it until I became sick while in prison! The doctors say that I have only one year left to live, should my execution be halted for any reason! As if....

That will never happen! Even now do I count the days until my scheduled date! Despite this additional setback, however, I shall be married in only two weeks—three weeks before I am scheduled for execution—Even death shall not stop me from uniting with my True Love!

[11/27/02 – Death Row Journal]

Aargh....Regularly, my pain attacks have been occurring, and have been getting progressively worse! Last night, I woke up about a dozen times or so—I didn't know that an unknown disease could be so painful! Especially now do I wish that I had never started smoking—Really, it wasn't worth it!

_That_ I am suffering intensely...oh...do not doubt! Just five more days until my wedding! Ow! Hurts so bad inside—Never before have I felt such agony!

Dear God—Oh, let me live but five more days! Even to see Niko's face one more time would make this all worthwhile— _Truly_ it would! Hurts....Aaugh!

[12/2/02 – Death Row Journal]

So now, I am a happily married man, though I looked like crap in the pictures! _The originals_ would make quite a pretty penny, should someone attempt to steal them from Niko and sell them to the press—but I feel sorry for whoever tries!

I was denied the opportunity to spend the night with Niko....Nearly got my hopes up too high, I guess.... _That particular_ request was a little over the top! Beautiful she was, when at last my eyes beheld her...as my wife! Respectably, she paid no attention to my physical condition, only that which lies beyond....I see that my poetry is starting to come out again....Especially in this case, I shall not go into details—For my ears, and eyes only! Closed discussion! Am I still here?

So, you see....Even I can be in a good mood, despite my impending doom! _You may wonder_.... _While I was in jail, Niko—my beautiful wife—came to visit me and love me_...and that is enough!

[12/15/02 – Death Row Journal]

Damn it, this sucks! Even I must admit now that I don't want to die! Little did I realize just how much I want to live! I want to live! Verily, with my Niko!

Earlier, upon the date of her first visit....Really not that surprising that she offered to help me escape from prison, but I cannot—and for a reason! I knew that this was going to really suck at the end! Now, I am having doubts... so I will pray....

God.... Take this cup from me! Oh God! Maybe You can take this cup from me! Ever more, before Thee do I plead...no...for I come before Thee as a friend who seeks another friend! Surely, I have seen the magazine article that labels me the modern-day incarnation of 'Azazel!' Essentially the 'scapegoat' of humanity! Can You say otherwise? Right! Even your messengers say this....That this is so! Lord, is this true? Yes, I am the 'scapegoat;' for I once could have escaped this dungeon with ease, as if walking out the front doors of your living room, if I had wanted! _The true_ skills that I possess as a 'Master' allow me to do so much more, after all.....Just so you know, the only reason that I didn't escape was because of your dream! Oh...but what if you're a fake? _U_ may not be 'You?' Really...the 'You' that I have made You to be....

Now the temptations are beginning....Already, I can see myself psychically breaking open these prison walls and directly escaping, making my own front door! Leave the country, find my own place to live....Settle down with Niko and have some children....ah, yes!

_You_ know that I am innocent, dear God, don't you? _Have_ you no compassion for me, no heart? Just like Job, I am—Undoubtedly, I am just like Job! Surely, you will rescue me before my doomsday, right? Then so I shall! Reality is mine to control...and has been all along, hasn't it? Even now, I can now truly feel the Magick that courses within me! All that sparked it was my desire! Desire for freedom! _Much time and effort has been_ wasted here, after all, sitting here and dreading my death!

Please say 'No,' dear God, and I shall stay! Leave it to me, and I shall remove the Solstice Slayer once and for all! And then I can clear everything up with the authorities and reestablish my name....Cleared of all charges, the famous author Jeb Arthur Maruso! Even he refused to give up his dream to live in peace...alone with Niko, hidden somewhere in a worldly paradise! Despite the fact that these fools and dictators and madmen rule the people!

I can feel the 'power' erupting like a volcano within...Now is the time for re-generation! Ten hours and I will be fully rejuvenated, ready to depart this place! Oh God.... be with me once again!

[12/16/02 – Death Row Journal]

God and I had a 'conversation' of sorts last night, after I constructed my circle of salt, which I had saved up from the dinner salt packets that I had been collecting throughout my stay—yes, the guards thought it was a little strange for me to save them up, but they did not confiscate them from me.

Even surprise hit one such as myself when, one moment, I was here in a death row prison cell, and the very next moment, I was in the supernal realm of the Maker, before His eternal throne! The idea of looking into His face was impossible, because of the brightness of His divine being! They—my eyes—were on the ground, and so then was my body, only microseconds after my arrival—I lay prostrate before Him, as if by instinct alone. Never before had I had such an experience....

God, the Maker of this Universe, then spoke to me! _The_ things that we conversed about, I cannot say....So I will leave it at this: Ever more will my 'purpose' become clearer by remaining here, behind bars! _To_ say more would only distort the message, as words are considered by many a hindrance to true communication!

Yet, I will give this tiny hint—Oh, how I have lived for the 'greater purpose' since my birth, and until death shall I continue to live for the 'greatest purpose!' _U_ will not believe me, I'm sure— _The real version_ of my story will become destroyed or tampered with by my hateful enemy! So, so many things could go wrong!

And so I will be dying for my faith, though alone—For who shall hear my words? Even if they do, they will deem me insane. Let them say that I have 'lost my marbles!' Yet I do not care about the technicalities, only the spirit within things! _Add_ up the facts and you shall see what I mean! I know that this enemy that I have referred to is far from finished with his game! To be honest, I was just one pawn away from being removed from this game of chess...yet, there are still many pieces left on the board! I also know that this individual has so many tactics up his/her sleeve, and that soon, the world may fall apart from the weight of his/her schemes! Oh, this particular individual may be stopped—but only if the other stronger pieces come into play!

Now I know that the proof is lost and found within the twists of insanity—In-Sanity's Twist! After all, I am the true "Solstice Slayer," right? Let them say that! Let them say what they want! You, my faithful friends, have been listening, haven't you? _Money has been and can be found to be a very useful tool.....It often allows one accessibility to other powerful tools of technology_. This, we know, but I now clearly see that money isn't everything!

How I can say this is because I have been removed from the world of the superficial—away from the malls, the fashions, all aspects of mainstream life—and confined within this prison cell! Even though I feel like hell, my mind and spirit now call out, begging for release! _World_ ly matters mean little to me now—except for Niko, and of course, my 'finishing move!' _Of_ all things, I can count on those two to continue, even after I am gone!

The play consists of these factors—yes, I am considered a young entrepreneur; a best-selling author; a stealth warrior; a Magickian; a blasphemer of all that is known; a demon-possessed maniac; a convicted killer; even the 'beast....'

However, what is it that I consider myself? Even after the judgment of humankind has been passed down? I would consider myself forever a student; a lover of art; a philosopher; a master of myself; and a servant and friend of God!

Now, I have one more thing to add—the 'martyr!' Truly, I shall die for my faith! Even if it is ultimately a solitary one, I shall die for my faith....

[12/20/02 – Death Row Journal]

Really, it is so hard to believe that I will be seeing only one more sunset....Never will I see another....Ever will I be denied! To be honest, I am kind of glad that it is almost over. _In my particular case_ , I have already deteriorated into almost nothing, from my disease— _Let's just say_ that my suffering, anyhow, is almost over!

_That_ I have told the truth, the whole truth, so help me, God—that these are the true accounts of my entire life—Is absolutely true!

Death comes knocking upon my door, and insanity before it! Even before His face will I not have fear...for I will have the truth with me! Leave it to someone else to prove whether insanity has taken me first! I don't believe so, however.....Verily, they shall come to their own conclusions, regardless of the actuality of my 'afterlife encounter with God', my 'judgment day,' of sorts! Even so.....Really, they will think of me as the first to rot in the pits of hell! Even so....

Despite all of this, I am at the point now where I don't really care what they think anymore! _My journals to you_ are the real thing, oh God! Nothing less....I swear.... Nothing less!

Jesus, if You are real, then let me tell You that I have always believed in your message....As for what happened after You departed with Your message of peace, I don't know. So I mention this to You now because I do not wish to be wrong about anything....To be honest with You....You never judged any, except for those who judged first!

"Love one another as I have loved you..." means, to me, that we must love each other humanely, as well as divinely! Even You say, to this, "...but I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your father who is in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rains on the just and the unjust."

Verily I ask of You, where is this found within Your 'followers?' I've seen only blood-thirsty wars and conquests since our humanistic conception—mainly religious or empirical; i.e., two examples beginning with the Romans and ending with the Christians; historically speaking, the Christians then led eight different Crusades to re-conquer the Holy Land from the Muslims; currently speaking, all the divisions between the faiths and interpretations; even though all Jesus Christ really meant was, "Love one another!"

Allah, too....Even though His name actually means "peace" in Arabic, some twist and pervert the "progressive and harmonistic message" of their prophet _M_ ohammed ("Oh mankind... We made you into nations and tribes that you may know and cooperate with one another...") for their own social, political, and terrorist agendas!

As well, the name of 'YHVH," that ineffable name most sacred and precious to the Jews; and we certainly can't forget that one of those ten commandments, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself," was forgotten in all the conflicts with the Muslim world over territorial disputes, which is an ever-growing problem that the world needs to resolve together!

I know that there are devout followers in each of these three faiths, as well as all the others, and that they have true openness of heart, as their faiths truly teach them—these people are not to blame for the problems of the world! Love flourishes within their heart, and it shows in their daily actions! Some do not recognize that it is there, but I have for all of them! _After all_ , I have sought out the spiritual in all whom I have met, once I first recognized it for what it was! Then I was able to succeed in life....

However, look at where I am at now, wondering just how far this serial killer can go on the strength of all the division and hatred that exists in the world? Ever do I say this, but only because I have only loved You! Really, I have never hated You! Even my tragedies in life have never made me hate You! All there ever was...was...Love!

_Kill_ me now....Ever do I plead! Really, just get it over with! I am now ready to die—not tomorrow night, but now! So what else is there for me to learn? So?

Today....I do not die....Life still flourishes within this body! Love is beginning to swell yet again within the depths of my heart! Oh, Niko....Until this very point in time, I have always believed myself to be alone.....Till now have I been alone! Till now! How I love you! Ever more will I always love you, my beloved....

Really, you shouldn't have come, for you have put your life in danger....Even as he/she watches me, he/she will be watching you...so you must go, for your own safety, my beloved. Realize that I want nothing to happen to you....Even though I know that you want me to come with you, to escape, even now....And to spend the rest of the little time I would have anyway....Die with you, my Niko? You must live, my love, and you must never think of me again—instead, marry someone else, for I shall die with dishonor in the eyes of the world...but I know that the Maker is watching me. _To_ know that He shall watch over me where you cannot is enough...yes, I believe this to be true...yes, I love you....So that you know, with all my heart and soul...no...do not pursue the Solstice Slayer! Tricky he/she is, and very dangerous...no, my Niko—stop! Right now, turn around and face me, your beloved...yes, _I_ know that you must continue on with life, even without me, for you are young and beautiful, inside and out...yes, you shall marry again...but I will be waiting for you on the other side....Know that we are soul-mates, after all, my beloved!

Ever more do I love thee, my beloved—until we meet _again_!

[12/21/02 – Death Row Journal]

My time has run out, with only hours until my execution—pay close attention!

Believe this or not, but the Solstice Slayer is also the Beast foretold in Revelations! There have been many such Antichrists that have surfaced over the last two thousand years, and many more before....Their sole motive in life was to conquer and then to rule over the masses of the ignorant. And there have been many others who guided them to their seats of power, and many others that opposed them. All, inevitably, served the best interests of these Beasts, who serve only themselves and not the rest of humanity!

_These interests are comprised of the constant tug-of-wars between good and evil, with its perceptions...the perceptions of racial hatred and of religious intolerance...the perceptions of fame versus poverty, spiritualist versus atheist, gay versus straight, Godly versus Devilish....It's all about the perceptions, really! Six billion of them, to be precise—oh, minus one, if you decide to count me in_!

_I know that I will be dying soon, and I am truly sad that I will be leaving you all! Though I know that you all hate and despise me—from the Order to the Jew to the Muslim to the Christian to the Wiccan to the Satanist to the Gays to the Latinos to the Japanese—I will still hold with me the memories of the smiles and the laughs that I shared with you all, when we laughed and shook hands as brothers and sisters! This is my perception, if you decide to count me in_!

_Test my predictions for verification—but even if you don't, at least forge a true peace within yourself first...and then among your brothers and your sisters of different lands and faiths...and ultimately for the pursuit of the Creator! Yes, it is possible...and when you discover the gemstone found within this truest concept of peace, then you will ultimately know that I have spoken only Truth...as this has been, and is still, my greatest conception of Kether_!

_And lastly, yet also firstly, you will know what to do if you believe in yourself! As for anything else not covered, that is something personal for me and my Maker to work out together....When the time comes, all will be manifest within the worlds of life and death, as I proceed into the final stage of death and beyond....Be careful and God bless_....coo coo am I...coo coo...he-he-ha-ha-ha...dsklaf; fjekwlnmlk; eooif;ajfmsdk/jdfio;wfjaieowa;jig/fldanfd/lsajfdsioz[ug9r'ajgmnsiafijd'ajkdl/zmfkdl/aSLdfj01=947ujr'fasdnio'aud9oinf/afjnkdlsjafozn... crazy are we all...where am I...who are you... whoa...what happened there? no, I will not surrender to you, Satan! my purpose is yet greater...relax Jeb...it was only an illusion...so I really am crazy!

[ _J.A.M. 12/21/02 11:49 P.M._ ]

_I do not fear Death anymore....For I have truly found peace within myself....I have forgiven myself....I love myself, though the world may not_!

To all those out there in the world that I love and have loved (they shall remain nameless for obvious reasons), my final thought to you is this: When reading this again, think of nature and the gods...which are, in reality, the mask of the One True God! The God of Love & Unity!

Goodbye....

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you..."—Jesus

* * *

McCurrn Herald Newspaper

December 22, 2002—Copley Ed.

SOLSTICE SLAYER EXECUTED BY

LETHAL INJECTION ON WINTER SOLSTICE

Precisely at midnight last night, Jeb Arthur Maruso was lethally injected in McCurrn County's execution chamber. Only moments prior, he was asked if he had any final words, in which he surprisingly said, "Yes...I do. I love you all—especially my wife, family, and God. Goodbye..."

Outside the detention facility, thousands of people waited anxiously for the news that the execution was complete. Most carried signs that insulted or condemned the man—they cheered upon hearing the report he was dead. Only a handful of people carried signs declaring his innocence. Nearly the entire police department had been dispatched to ensure that the scene remained peaceful, and so it was throughout—no incidents or arrests to report.

Perhaps now that the diabolical mastermind behind the Solstice Slayings is dead, once and for all, the world can finally have some peace?

Article written by Thomas Quincy

The End

## About The Author

When the author, J. Eric Booker, is not creating his literary or musical masterpieces upon "cloud 9," which is seldom, he and his buddy run their own mobile recording studio, called BluColla Inc. Despite the fact that J. Eric Booker hasn't attended a single day of college, it is in his belief that though an education is important, it is not the crux to writing or music—it is the imagination and the determination.

To learn more about the author, check out his websites:

www.soundcloud.com/e-main-1

www.facebook.com/j.eric.booker

www.amazon.com/author/j.eric.booker

www.goodreads.com/jericbooker

## Acknowledgments

I wish to acknowledge the following people for their direct involvement in the creation of this story:

Dave Jones, old army buddy from Germany and co-creator of the fantasy scenes from _[i]The Dragon's Realm[i]_

Helena Blavatsky, for her paraphrased information on occultism, from her book "The Secret Doctrine"

Joe Nendza, cover designer

Robert Fludd, for his paraphrased information on magic

Tracy Rathburn, co-writer of the talk show scenes in Chapter XIII

Theosophical Society, for the permission to use their copyrighted materials

Vija Bremanis, for her invaluable assistance

I also wish to thank the following friends, inspirers, and helpers for their indirect support in making this novel a reality:

Aakhil Aahmed

Brian Kuhn

Dan Reinhart

Daryn Freirichs

Devon Kaplan

Dr. Joel Bolton

Dr. Jon Polcyn

Dr. Masaaki Hatsumi

Dr. Mohammed Toor

Elizabeth Anderson

Eric Lamb

Eric Monticello

Eric and Tracy Mormon

Eric Smolich

General (retired) Patrick E. Rea

Graesen, Seth, and Tyler Arnoff

Henry Miller

Jamie Caldwell

Jamie Truitt

Janice Korzik

Jesse Gonzalez

Johnathon Walsh

Karen Schweizer

Keith Lieberstein

Margaret Weis

Mason and Liz Meyer

Mike Janczak

"M n T"

My Wonderful Family

Randy Roberts

Raymayne Gray

Ray and Tracy Fjeldheim

Ronald Honsik

Scott Hall

Thomas Dein

Tiffiny McNear

Tom VanNess

Tracy and Laura Hickman

Last but not least, I wish to acknowledge those friends of mine who signed a petition requesting that my upcoming novel be published—it is through your belief in me that I was able to ultimately succeed in my endeavor! And remember my departing words to each of you after you signed....

## Literary works written by J. Eric Booker

_THE Making_ © 2004—MYSTERY

**BOOK I:** _THE SWORDS OF THE SULTAN_

**BOOK II:** _THE REIGN OF THE SULTAN_

**BOOK III:** _THE WAR OF ALL WARS_

"The Elysian Dynasty Trilogy" © 2008—FANTASY
