“Behold, the Heidentor is open,” he says, as he continues reading from the Book of Shadows, which lays on the naked girl’s upper back. This book contained a number of blasphemous writings, which included their favorite scriptures from the Qur’an (an unholy text that they read from with approbation). As he reads these Islamic whoppers, the blended coven chants in unison.
“O gods and goddesses of the deep Lagoon, manifest thy presence for the achievement of our will?” he dowsed, while the prepubescent altar boy slowly swung the incense back and forth.
Many of the most powerful Satanists across the globe were often Sufi Muslims. Sufis believe that there is no distinction between mankind and God, and that they are their own gods (basic principles of The Church of Satan). The Sufi shaikh (‘saint’ or ‘teacher’) is a master who has power over nature, can both heal and kill with a thought, can communicate directly with Allah, and can compel and control human hearts. This is what they believe. Sufis are also known to release beast-like demons (called jinn or djinn) to harm those who debate or rebel (infidels). Allah has no likeness and no divine Son. Their prophet, Muhammad, was infamous for his fondness for murder and pedophilia. So, as you can see, Islam is a Satanist’s best friend, as the two theologies are ridiculously similar. On a side note, Muslims say they accept the Judeo-Christian Gospel, but believe that it was tampered with, and therefore say that it’s based on the works of man and not God. More Christians ponder this troubling thought every day, as more seminary scholars (which aren’t experts at anything but pomposity and enmity) insist on publishing a different so-called Biblical interpretation or translation for every day of the month.
“The cold flame consumes me,” says the brainwashed altar boy, as he hands the charcoal brazier back to the High Priest after he had swung it back and forth six times.
“The cold flame consumes me,” the High Priest says back, as he places the incense pendulum back on the filthy floor. “Tonight, we drink to honor our true nature,” he says as he sips from the repugnant chalice. He then passes it to his altar boy, who sips it and then holds it up above his young head.
“The joy of Hathor is with me,” the altar boy says, before returning it to the hands of the middle-aged High Priest. “Hathor, the horned moon goddess who wears a cobra headdress, who carries the Eye of Ra, plays the tambourine, and has the features and characteristics of a cow! The joy of Hathor is with me!”
“Joy is with me,” Mathias leans over and whispers in Joy’s ear, making her smile as he holds her hand in his. Joy barely suppresses her laugh this time, by curling her lips inward and biting down, as to keep her mouth tightly shut.
“The joy is in the flesh,” the High Priest adds, holding up the black-handled blade. “By the floods of Atlantis, I call forth Lady Isis and all of her aliases and minions.” He turns his body. “From the South, the infernal Shakti, I summon thee,” he says as he points the blade in that direction with an outstretched arm in front of him. “From the East, bringer of nausea and disease, deception and destruction, the sphinx twins, Pasht and Bast, I bid thee welcome! From the North, the goddess of pain and harm, Skadi, I summon thee and bid thee welcome.” He turns again, this time facing the crowd. “From the West, raging serpent of the watery Abyss, the repulsive Leviathan, I summon thee and bid thee welcome. Hail, Kali Ma, the black mother of torture, torment, and terror! You control the weather by braiding your hair!” the priest shouts.
A bell is rung by the nameless woman who distributed the cleansing blood bath. This High Priestess steps in front of the High Priest and speaks, as she raises her arms up at her sides, blatantly mocking the way Jesus’ arms were while hanging on the cross.
“Yemaya, goddess of the seas, unto thee is power and dominion. Let our Left Hand visions be manifested and enduring, for we are the children of earthly delights. Cybele, goddess of the beasts of the moon! Give us thy blessing!” she says as she turns to face the South. “Full moon goddess, Allat!” she says, turning to face the East, with her back against the crowd. “Bid us thy favor! Scatha, the shadowy one who strikes fear, defecate on us, your followers.” She then points the athame dagger at the attendees. “Soma, Indian moon god of immortality, bestow to us your treasures.” She turns and walks back to her High Priest, returning the blade to him, which he then responds by bowing his head in respect and gratitude. The athame dagger has a message, in a strange alphabet, engraved on the double-sided blade.
He lifts the knife up above his head, holding it horizontally with a hand at either end. His assisting Priestess then spreads the ass cheeks of the girl laying on the altar, so he can stick the handle end of the dagger up the young lady’s butthole. The knife is now sticking straight out of her delectable, teenage bum.
“Let not your wrath be extinguished or stifled. O Isis, goddess of lightning, guardian of the Left Hand Path, and monster of the river Styx, present your malignant power. Purify and consecrate this altar and this Mass through the bite of frost. Strike down our adversaries! Let those cower in terror, formed or formless, who would dare afflict the coldhearted. Let them drown for eternity in the Lake of Liquid Nitrogen. Artemis, restore yourself to power and reveal your exalted radiance, unleashing your fury and vengeance with your silver bow and, Alani, your silver hound. Harrow your emergence, which engulfs you. This we command, in the name of our Lady Moon, Shing-Moo. Her mercies flourish into sustenance will. We will prevail!”
“Hail Nehellania, dark moon of the Nether realm! Samen!” The congregation repeats this last word six times. “Hail Tlazolteotl, goddess of filthy bats, snakes, and black witchcraft! Samen!” The congregation once again repeats this word six times. The propolos (or attendant who leads) rings the bell yet again.
“As Hecate reigns, so shall her frozen vessels,” he says, as he vehemently flicks the knife, making it jiggle and vibrate in the girl’s tight anus. “Give us life everlasting on this earth, bringing tidal waves to only those who oppose us. Grant us a world without end, and end those who rebuke or persecute us.” He primitively yanks out the knife and brings the handle part up to his mouth, where he then proceeds to suck on the phallic object that is soaked with the girl’s anal secretions.
Organ music begins to play in the background, though there is no visible sign of any such instrument. This music fails to overpower or undermine the voices of the High Priest and Priestess, who both have the undeserved admiration of the indoctrinated and misguided followers. The High Priest crosses his arms over his chest and then steps off the polluted pulpit. The High Priestess takes over and positions herself behind the altar, where he had stood. She removes the chalice from the human altar’s armpit and brings it up to hold against her bosom. As the priestess holds this diseased goblet with her right hand, she shoves her left hand into the young girl’s vagina, aggressively fingering and fisting her. The cold-hearted priestess continues to sexually violate the adolescent girl until her pussy becomes saturated with her underdeveloped juices. Once this occurs, the priestess pulls her wet hand out and cleans it off by wiping it all over the rim of the chalice. The dark priestess hands the smeared cup of blood to the High Priest, who rejoins her back on stage and hands her the filthy dagger. The Hand of Glory is still hovering feet above the human altar.
“Set free the lust and temptation that burns within you,” the High Priestess says, as she holds the athame dagger out in front of her bosom. “Come forth, monsters of the great storm, and make thy presence known. Join us in celebrating our hedonistic endeavors. Send forth thy venomous vermin upon us, that we may please your infernal majesty with our wicked delights. To the house of harlots, unashamed of the animals that God designed us to be. To all the pleasures of the night, we revel. The life of Lady Isis consumes me,” she says as she sips from the chalice, which the hosting priest holds up for her to drink from. She hands it to the altar boy who then pisses in it and hands it back to her. “The joy of the flesh is eternal,” she reads from the book, and then sips from the chalice that appears to be bottomless. She walks aro
und the human altar so that she now stands in front of it and not behind it. “Let the six symbols of the Beast lurketh as we await your release. Through the nourishment of our sacrifice, let the angels cringe in terror. Let this sacrament fill the void of night, and let its lust illuminate its darkness, which leadeth to the Left Hand Path. Coyolxauhqui!”
The coven repeats this deplorable word of extreme silliness, following it with, “Hail Semele!”
The eerie bell is rung again. The High Priest faces his High Priestess, while they hold the chalice between them. They speak together in a foreign tongue, as a myriad of different voices flow from their mouths. They then refill the chalice with their own blood and bodily functions (spit, piss, and sperm) and mix it with a crimson red wine. “Amidst the rampage of our orgy, staggers the Devil herself. In the musky night, with yummy brains, passion shall take hold into writhing and twisting bodies. The great Wahini-Ahi, the original woman and creator of this world, shall preside over all,” the priest and priestess say simultaneously together, as if their minds are tuned in to the same wavelength.
She turns to the audience. “As evil reigns, may all your sadistic desires be fulfilled. We shall have everlasting life and a world without end.”
A shirtless man comes up on the pulpit, as the High Priest and Priestess temporarily step off. He has open scars on his cheeks that are made to look like gills, while his face and head are completely bald. He has surgically-implanted horns attached to his skull that push out from his forehead. He picks up the dagger and loudly addresses the crowd, as if they were severely hard of hearing.
“Before the mighty prince of darkness and the dreaded piranha of the Pit, and before this company infernal, we proclaim that Aphrodite, otherwise known as, Lady of the Wild Things, and Patroness of Prostitutes, rules the earth! We ratify and renew our pledge to glorify her without reservation, desiring in return her manifold assistance in successful completion of our endeavors and the fulfillment of our lusts. O friend and companion of the night, thou who delights in the brains of dogs, who seeks to torment and terrorize; and who longs for the spilt blood of the honorable and noble. Lord of the moon, look favorably upon our bodies of water, which we prepare now in thy many infernal names.” He sets down the blade and picks up the chalice. “I drink from this vile goblet, to beat the power of death,” he says as he sips from the cup. “O honored brother of darkness, drink from this chalice and never die.” He hands it to the altar boy, who holds it over his head, raising it with pride, as if making a toast.
“To the annihilation of all fanatics, enslaved to spiritual myth and morality. Destroy the vile hypocrites, who are the rabid disease of mankind and a bane on all civility. To this, I issue my own oath that these mad dogs will be obliterated. Long live Ra, Isis, and the shape-shifters of the Great Night, Morrigan and Frigga!” the choir boy shouts, as he hands it back to the horned fish-man.
“Joy to the flesh forever!” the freakish man exclaims, as his dark presence loomed over the parishioners. He bends over to touch his feet, and as he does, the congregation sees a subdermal implant that resembles a fin on his naked back. This kind of surgery was hidden from most of the world and only revealed to those who were astronomically rich. “From the tips of our toes to the tops of our scalps, let us celebrate our supreme bodies! Joy to the flesh forever!”
“Your flesh gives me joy, Joy,” Mathias whispered half-jokingly to her, trying to make Joy laugh again, while also attempting to turn her on at the same time.
“Do what thou wilt!” says the blended coven in unison. “The only real sin is self-denial!”
“Behold the prince of sea serpents, as I point this athame to the four directions and elements of the earth. I have become a monstrous machine of obliteration, festering on body fragments of those who would detain or malign me. Black shapes of ooze shall rise from the darkest pits of the Great Bay, and vomit forth superiority upon their puny minds. I call for the messengers of doom to slash with grim delight, upon the victims I have chosen. Torment with agony, any who betray us, as signals of warning to those who oppose us. O great brothers and sisters of the deep night, I call upon the great barracuda, Abaddon, to dwelleth in the Kraken’s vein and smite those who scorn us. Come, o night, which we have made our home, and sustain us in your majesty. Rip out the tongues and seal the mouths of our enemies. Slaughter the frail and the weak, who pollute our existence and mock our authority. Pierce their lungs with the electric stings of eels, o Dione! Cast their substance into the dismal void, o mighty Dagon,” the genetically-modified man said, before turning the pulpit back over to the hosting priest. His concubine priestess again joins him on stage, now holding a small bell in each hand.
“O infernal majesty, throw them into the Pit evermore to suffer perpetual anguish. Bring thy hurricane upon them, o rulers of the slimy underworld, that they may know the extent of thy anger. Call forth thy legions to witness what they do in thy name. Send forth thy messengers to proclaim this dirty deed, and call forth the great Lochness to step forth from the iron gates of the bottomless sinkhole. Stand tall and crush the pitiful infidel with your cloven hooves. Let loose the hounds of Hell to rip flesh and crush bone. Smite them anew, o lord of the cold flame, that their gods and goddesses, priests and prophets, may cower before thee in fear, trembling and suffocating before themselves, in respect of thy power. Send a mighty tornado to crash down the majestic gates of their heavens and nirvanas.”
She rings the left bell, and then the High Priest continues with his obnoxious and offensive rant.
“Banish into nothingness, the vile and abhorrent pretenders to the splendor of the Full Moon goddess, Maia. Return to the void of thy empty heavens. For the lord, Astarte, who reigns over Jahi the Whore and all the prostitutes and adulteresses, brings others to perish under his mighty cloven feet. Coyolxauhqui!”
The blended coven repeats this ridiculous word.
“Hail Rhea! Youth of Sparta!”
Again, this mixed coven repeats this blasphemy that they have become all too familiar and comfortable with. She rings the bell in her right hand.
“I place my darkest blessings upon this diabolical brethren, who walk the way of the cold flame.” He folds his hands together and bows his head, as if in prayer. “The essence of the Satanist is pure vengeance, thus we proceed ever forward. So, my Luciferian comrades, indulge, innovate, and celebrate the unique life that is your precious treasure. Do what thou wilt, and go forth filling your days with ecstasy and malice unending. As High Priest of this melting pot of covens and magus of The Black Order, I place my benediction upon you, as your lives are filled with triumphs unbounded.” The repugnant pope moves his left hand as if making the sign of the cross, but with his hand in the sign of the horns. “As you exist in the eternal now, live in exquisite greed and lust. So mote it be!” He crosses his arms over his chest, still making the sign of the horns, now with both hands. “Hail the threefold goddess, full of might! Maiden, Mother, and the Crone delight! Our allegiance is with thee! So mote it be!”
“Our allegiance is with thee! So mote it be!” the combined coven repeats in unison, without question or hesitation, as the High Priestess changes into a costume in front of everyone.
“Cursed are the god adorers of false piety, and cursed are the worshippers of the peaceful Nazarene. Unholy Diana, bringer of enlightenment, lend us thy power at this midnight hour. The Catholic Church depicts Mary with the lunar crown, which was wrongfully stolen from your possession. You are the witch with cones of power! Coyolxauhqui!”
The cumulation of covens repeats this stupid word one final time, before the Satanists got up one by one, from the salt-drawn, 9-foot pentagram that they had been sitting in, and formed a single line to wait for their turn to partake of the unholy eucharist. The High Priestess is now wearing a costume that resembles an octopus, which has only one opening…which is at her buttocks. The fake tentacles are shortened in length, as to not prevent access to her ass. She is completely nude underneath the costume.
“One day, I’m going to be the High Priest of this Order,” Mathias whispered into Joy’s ear. “The day will come when I won’t have to bow to anyone, god or man.” Joy just smiled at him, not saying anything in either agreement or argument. “When I’m in charge of everything, I won’t be an anonymous High Priest either. Everyone will know my name,” he added, before they got up to get in line, to participate in the blasphemous Communion.
The repulsive alchemist ejaculated his sperm into the chalice, by an effective combination of self-masturbation and from the altar boy pleasing him with oral copulation. They then further laced the concoction by spitting and pissing in the contaminated goblet, stirring and mixing the detestable brew with a black candle stick. The head priest then offered the revolting libations from the profane cup, after asking the moon goddess, Isis, to bless over the Unholy Sacrament. The Black Communion was consumed from the plagued chalice, which was still refilling itself as quickly as it was emptied. As the congregants took turns holding the cup, they saw that the surface of the mixture showed a reflection of a crescent moon accompanied by a small star (the Islam symbol). By sipping from this goblet mixture, they firmly believed that it would give them ultimate and infinite power.
As the members were served one at a time, they held out their hands or open mouth to receive some of the abominable contents. Once each congregant partook of their portion and had their share of the distorted version of the eucharist, they handed the cup back to the horned man. They then paid their respects to the two elders, depending on what gender they were. The females planted a tongue-kiss on the mouth of the High Priest, who was dressed like a toad. If the parishioner was a male, he used his tongue to rim the dirty anus of the High Priestess, who turned around and spread her ass cheeks for them to lick.
Moon River Page 5
