Encyclopaedia of Hell: An Invasion Manual for Demons Concerning the Planet Earth and the Human Race Which Infests It

by Olson, Martin

  YOUTH (yūth) n. The most charming personality trait of an aborted fetus.

  z, Z (zē) n. A pictogram representing the lower plane connected to the higher plane by a slanted line; the slanted line represents the ascent to human wisdom, best symbolized by an out-of-order escalator.

  Beast with Humiliating Carcass Design

  ZEBRA (zē brə) n. 1. A ridiculously conspicuous creature bio-engineered by Demon pioneer Abra Kadab as a joke and for target practice. 2. Meat which comes complete with diagrams of where to slice.

  ZEN (zen) n. The only “wisdom school” endorsed by Myself, Lord Satan. Therefore Meditate, My Demon Slaves, upon Its Single Self-Engulfing Saw: “Resist the Precept of Accepting All Precepts Save This Ultimate Precept”.

  The Emptiness of 0

  ZERO (zē rō) n. 1. The combined IQ of Humanity. 2. The Sum of All Equations in the Cosmos. See Loneliness; Mathematics.

  COMMENTARY BY ASMO DEUS

  Zero is the Mathematical Vat in which All Numbers churn, boil and bubble in the Cosmic Stew of Latent, Invisible Potentiality. Zero is the Slutty Cosmic Virgin, the Chaste Promiscuous Quantity containing within its Paradoxical Womb the Sum Total of All and Nothing.

  To Demons, the Cosmic Zero is the Highest Principle, having reached Perfection in the Supreme Mind His Majesty Satan, Lord of Hell, from which All Exquisitely Void Evil Beings Spring.98

  COMMENTARY BY ZYK

  Regarding the Concept of Naught and its smarmy anthropomorphism, I offer the following recursive verse:

  We may seem to create

  a Mythic God

  By recognizing His Existence

  For anything which can be thought

  Has had crouching latent being

  In the infinite potential

  of everything:

  If something is thought, it is

  If even one mind observes itself

  Then the Cosmos has intelligence

  So it is with the number 0

  Who circles about infinitely

  Like a Fool in love with existence

  Retracing and re-experiencing

  The path of its own being

  And realizing that its boundaries

  Although infinite

  Encompass only the endlessness

  Of its own meaning

  ZERO POPULATION GROWTH (zē rō pŏp yū lā shən grōth) n. A concept from Hell invented to obliterate the Tumorous Growth of Humanity.

  That Which Seals in and Unleashes the Detestable

  ZIPPER (zi pər) n. Mechanism which seals in the vagina and unleashes the penis.

  Circle of Delusion

  ZODIAC (zō dē ăk) n. A galactic arm wafting around the Earth and wrapping it in a cloak of beauty and superstition.

  ZOO (zū) n. 1. A happy place where humans imprison wild animals in urban blight where children torture them. 2. Animal jail where the only parole is death.

  ZYK OF ASIMOTH (zēk əv ăz ə môth) n. Poet Laureate of Hell, Poet in Residence at the University of Hell, and historical scholar on Hell Antiquities, specializing in Ancient Earth and Its Evils.

  As Chief Editor for My Invasion Manual, Zyk used his skills as Hell’s most hideous Poet to present many incomprehensible human concepts in verse, in order to make Mankind’s galvanized strangeness more palatable and less disturbing to the archly polarized Hordes of Demon Invaders.

  After time-traveling to Earth to research this book, Zyk’s destiny has become inextricably linked to that of the blasphemous Demon Pioneer Abra Kadab (q.v.). It was Zyk who battled and lay waste to Kadab at the Space-Time Nexus of the Crucifixion of Earth’s prophet Jesus.

  But more pointedly, Zyk was created not only to augment My Manual for the enlightenment of the Invading Forces, but to assist the perfect expression of this very moment, the Ending of this Black Volume.

  For in order to create Suspense and Terror in the Minds of My Invading Legions, this Manual’s broad pastiche of mundane and cosmic terms regarding the Frightening Conundrum of Humanity’s Existence cannot end with the hammering dido of Mundane Fact. It must instead end with the sensual caress of Mysterious Promise, a horror which suggests but does not reveal, a terror which emotes but does not define.

  And thus, I end with a potent but Mysterious Message:

  Directly after You, My Demon Troops, have succeeded in pulverizing Mankind and have rounded them up to be weighed, slaughtered, carefully butchered and stored as five billion tubes of fresh meat, the exquisite New Age of Horror on Earth will presage the Announcement of a Monumental Decision I have made, which will Astound all Demonkind and change utterly the Face of My Vast Hell Cosmos, now and forevermore.

  I shall make this Announcement when Las Vegas lays in waste immediately following the Success of Your Mission Upon the Scab of Earth.

  In future editions, the text of this Hideous Announcement, as well as any other Documents which the Publisher at Mind Control Press may deem Contributory, shall follow this, the Final Page of My Invasion Manual, in the form of Addendum.

  So I Decree and So Shall It Be.

  Zyk of Asimoth

  ZYK’S FINAL MEMO TO THE PUBLISHER

  CONCERNING HIS RESEARCH ON EARTH

  MEMO TO

  MORTIMER PÖNÇÉ, ESQ.

  PUBLISHER, MIND CONTROL PRESS

  HELL HOLE WEST

  CITY OF HELL

  FROM

  ZYK OF ASIMOTH, EDITOR

  INVASION MANUAL COMMISSION

  DISPATCHED FROM EARTH,

  GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE,

  APRIL 2, 33 A.D.

  Detestable Mr. Pönçé:

  It is the aftermath. I am feeling a bit giddy now. My work is abysmally late, but at least it is done. Now I must face the fact of my impending obliteration. Lilith was Removed From Existence this morning. Logically, I will be next. Then you, Mr. Pönçé.

  My ruin is the result of my own ineptitude. I allowed the magnetic field of this planet to warp, reverse and thus pervert the spin of my emotional particles. I fell victim to the egregious human disease of Love.

  Perhaps my mistakes were preordained by Lord Satan, within whom all Demons live and move and have their being. Or perhaps, as He claims, we Creatures of His Mind are free to do our own Evil as we will it.

  The seeds of my failure, I see now, were planted in my youth as a Demon. I believed that I could succeed in a government career, working my way up from Poet Laureate to the rank of Executive of Hell. Obviously I was deluded. As a Poet I am worthless, exhaling jangling, breathless rhyme, costuming rows of rhetorical turds. I shall never be anything more than Poet Laureate. I have failed, and Lord Satan’s Fist of Nothingness hovers over me. And over you, Mr. Pönçé.

  To the matter at hand, I sent Lilith the final batch of material yesterday. She edited the commentaries and messengered the package to you this morning. Moments later, I have learned, she exploded in a swirling rainbow of red, black and yellow earwigs, killed, obliterated, finished, undone unto eternity.

  As for myself, my problems began with Sister Debbie and ended with Kadab. My beloved, as you know, survived the breech birth of our unfortunate goat-jackal which accidentally debrained the American president. I comforted Debbie and brought her here for my final mission on Earth, to research the crucifixion of a strange and evocative poltroon named Jesus of Nazareth.

  It was my fault that Jesus had become such a formidable preacher of parables. During my editorial research, time-traveling into Earth’s past, I accidentally dropped a copy of Lord Satan’s Invasion Manual in Nazareth. The boy Jesus found the book, was inspired by Lord Satan’s eloquent parables and plagiarized them to preach to his followers. It is ironic, Mr. Pönçé, that Lord Satan was the inspiration behind the saccharine creed of Christianity. But perhaps it was Lord Satan’s Ultimate Plan that I would drop this Manual into Jesus’ hands, that Jesus would steal Lord Satan’s parables and use them to inspire millions of followers, who naturally perverted his message across the expanse of centuries into exquisitely xenophobic ca
mpaigns of mass murder and fundamentalist mind control.

  As Lord Satan said, evil things come to those who wait.

  And now, the last leg of my editorial research has culminated here, time-traveling to the death of the now-famous Jesus by crucifixion.

  In the place where he was crucified, there was a garden. I landed our invisible Hellcraft in a vast acre of sunflowers wrapped with tendrils of jasmine. Debbie and I deplaned, waded waist-deep through the sweet-smelling flowers, and found a vantage point to watch the executions on Gethsemane Hill.

  Three soldiers were leading the shackled prophet Jesus up the hill toward the X-shaped trees upon which he was to be crucified.

  Like the Dallas assassination, this crucifixion was a nexus in Earth-Density space-time; in some dimensional counterparts the prophet was murdered, in others he was one of three who escaped from drunken guards, and in yet others he was acquitted and ordered as Community Service to scrub the temple restrooms. As a result of the time warp, humans subsequently remembered Jesus’ murder quite differently, each having waded into the surf of a slightly different dimensional tide.

  In the density which we witnessed, as I said, Jesus was being nailed to the tree by the guards.

  Seeing this, Debbie was aghast, clutched my arm and told me that she must save him. I rolled my eyes and told her she was crazy. If she saved Jesus from being crucified, millions of souls wouldn’t be redeemed and, even worse, her religion wouldn’t exist. I kissed her gently and told her to shut up so I could take notes.

  I was in a bad mood. I knew that sooner or later Lord Satan would obliterate me as He had all of the others. But I couldn’t tell her that. I was on the edge of an crumbling abyss, facing my own death, an end that felt more inevitable by the instant.

  So I told her to come with me and blurted out that we could live together, that we could get married. For as I said, Mr. Pönçé, because of Earth’s e-m field, I was “in love.”

  She said I didn’t understand. She was already married. Her religion married her to Jesus. She couldn’t let him die. If I really loved her, she insisted, I’d help her save Jesus.

  Well, Mr. Pönçé, I was going to be killed anyway. And since I did love her, I agreed to help. She’d have to deal with the temporal consequences later. I scanned the guards’ holonomic data (the spin of each particle in their bodies) and was about to blast them with matching particles but with opposite velocity and spin, thus freezing their movement, when, inexplicably, I felt my magical powers drained...

  I turned to see Old Kadab facing me, a neuron booster helmet on his spiny head. Using his primitive, but still powerful, magic, Kadab had blocked my powers and was trying to kill me.

  As I saw the soldiers torturing Jesus, Kadab attacked me.

  I was knocked off my feet by a swarm of icy black tendrils which wrapped around my face and neck, clawing and choking me. I writhed on the ground and tried to rip free of them, but could not; this was an ancient form of magic that I knew not how to overcome.

  Kadab cackled hoarsely as he loomed over me. A Vast Spectre silhouetted against the sky, Kadab was twenty feet tall, his scaly green armor writhing with worms and insects.

  As the tendrils pulled tighter around my throat, Kadab roared that Lord Satan was a fool; Kadab knew about the Invasion Plan and would eat me and any Demons who tried to steal the Earth from him.

  Kadab was obviously insane, his mind twisted after Satan banished him from Earth eons ago. Kadab must have been hiding in the Hollow Earth, waiting for his revenge.

  As I tried futilely to rip free the tendrils which engulfed me, I yelled for Debbie to hurry and try to stop the guards while I hold off Kadab; I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  Debbie raced to the cross and, as I watched while wrestling with Kadab’s tendrils, she punched the guard away who was trying to nail Jesus’ left hand to the tree.

  The guard went flying and Debbie immediately grabbed a hammer and began removing the nails holding Jesus’ feet to the trees.

  As she freed them, one of the guards took out a knife and raised it over his head. As the guard plunged the knife to stab Debbie, Jesus suddenly kicked him in the face, sending him flying. As the other guards began rushing toward them, Debbie quickly pulled the nails from Jesus’ hands. He jumped down and joined Debbie in a fistfight with the handful of guards attacking them.

  Meanwhile, Kadab snatched me up in his claws, told me that the Invasion was doomed, and shoved me down his throat.

  The blackness of his ghastly maw engulfed me. I swirled down his throat like a blackbird spiraling down a toilet.

  I plummeted down his billowing esophagus and landed in the gushy sac of his stomach. I found a flashlight in my pack and illuminated the stomach chamber.

  It was a living-room-sized stomach, half-filled with a lake of bubbling effluents. Sticking out of the ooze were half-digested animal and human skeletons.

  Suddenly the lake of ooze jolted and formed a whirlpool current. Apparently he had started to empty his stomach into his bowels. The current spun me faster and faster around the stomach, finally sucking me down into the bowels, where a wheel-like organ with rows of razorlike bones chopped everything up into etheric residue for later excretion through the pores of Kadab’s detestable hide.

  I was sucked violently under and plummeted toward the spinning razors. As I sank deeper, the fluid became somehow illuminated. I looked down and could see a light source. The supra-luminal speed of Kadab’s razor organs caused an opaque luminosity in the fluid, lighting me as I surged down through the chaos of rotted flesh and cracked bones.

  It’s peculiar, Mr. Pönçé, how the Demon mind is devious even in the face of death. Twisting in the whirlpool, I shoved a claw into my back pocket and felt the parchment you had given me, the one with the incantation which would obliterate Kadab. I yanked it out amid the swirling chaos and tried to focus my eyes on the magic words, shrieking them, bubbling, into the fluid as the razors grabbed my feet and began to twist me to bits.

  My last sensation was the cold claw of nothingness — followed by the greatest explosion I have ever heard.

  I was blown sky high through weird green and purple vapors, layers of opalescent gauze and nests of hideous flying creatures, finally crashing through dimensions back to Gethsemane, directly over the trees in which the human Jesus was nailed.

  I landed on the V of the intersecting trees while Debbie and Jesus were still fighting off the guards below. I glanced down the hillside and saw that Kadab had obliterated spectacularly. All that remained of him was a twirling oval of orange smoke, which transformed into a glut of black butterflies fluttering away into the craggy red hills of Jerusalem.

  The Invisible Death Throes of Zyk and Kadab

  The force of Kadab’s Expulsion from Existence was far-reaching; its epiphenomena of lightning and Earth seizures were later, I found, attributed to the crucifixion.

  I jumped down to help fight off the guards. Jesus and Debbie had knocked out all but one guard, who dove on Jesus, knocked him to the ground and raised his knife to stab him. Debbie and I tackled the guard at the same time and rolled him onto his back. Debbie nailed him with a right cross, knocking him out.

  We had finished off the guards and were panting in exhaustion. Jesus caught his breath and extended his hands to us to thank us both. But before he could, he slipped on the vinegar sponge and tumbled backwards onto the ground.

  Debbie I and knelt over him and saw that he had slipped and fallen on the knife. We put him in a sitting position and I pulled the knife out of his side. He gasped and shuddered, grabbed our shoulders, then fell backwards. He died in our arms, his dead eyes staring straight above.

  Sister Debbie looked at me. She was trembling. I knew what she was thinking. Without Jesus’ crucifixion, there would be no Christian religion. Without a Jesus, there could be no Mary and no nuns. Debbie’s life would be robbed of all meaning.

  I had a solution. I lifted Jesus’ body in my arms and carried him to the crossed
trees. I gestured for Debbie to help. We propped him up and nailed Jesus back onto the cross.

  When we finished, the soldiers began to come to. I took Debbie’s hand and hurried her down the hill toward the Hellcraft. She suddenly fell to her knees and called out to me. I rushed to her side. She fell to the ground and was motionless. I opened her vestment and found her blouse stained with blood. She had been stabbed during the fight, but had said nothing. The wound, having punctured her heart, was serious.

  Taking my beloved in my arms, I leapt from the cross down to the garden of Gethsemane. I laid her wheezing body down among the primrose and tightly held her hand.

  Askance, I saw the soldiers up on the hill coming to and gathering around Jesus and joking about the earthquake. One offered Jesus’ corpse a drink from a vinegar-soaked rag.

  At that moment, Debbie’s eyes opened and closed a final time; her breath slowed, faltered, stopped.

  I buried Debbie beneath the trees upon which Jesus was nailed.

  When I had finished covering her with dirt, I was overcome with the most ghastly feeling that has ever shaken my evil being. It was a particularly insidious form of the “love” I had become infected with, as a result of my intercourse with Earth’s magnetic field, and with Debbie. This form was an extreme perversion of that love experience, a deeper, grander delusion of Cosmic Unity, in which the Hell Universe Itself suddenly seemed One with my beloved. In an intense flash I experienced complete understanding at a cellular level of the Forbidden Concept of Oneness, that my love for Debbie was a fundamental symbol to me of the nature of existence, with all of its separate Parts woven together into One Infinite Space-time Tapestry.