Part 1: Knocking at my Door

For a week my mind had been clouded with anticipation. The thing that I so desperately waited for had transformed me into a ghoulish creature. I became extremely irritable, lashing out at those closest to me. My fingernails suffered permanent disfigurement from the chronic biting I inflicted in my nervous state. I did not know how much longer I could last. If it did not arrive soon I feared my altered state would be too much too endure. Luckily, that Friday afternoon, my shipment arrived.

I had never seen myself so eager before. I tore open the package so violently that it would have been impossible to identify the remains as belonging to anything more than particles of dust. I could not believe that I had finally had it in my possession. The anticipation quickly turned into delirium as I poured its fuel into the body and inserted its 3 prong tail into the wall. The wait was over. My fogger had finally arrived.

The rest of the evening was a blur. My new possession had completely intoxicated me overtaking me in a fury and had reduced me to a primordial state. I had devolved into some sort of ancestral humanoid who upon discovering a monolith abandoned all natural tendencies for the madness of enlightenment.

I awoke the next afternoon completely disoriented. I moaned in agony as my head throbbed violently. I laid upon my wooden floor completely clothed with no recollection of the night before and then I heard the knocking. It was the strangest knock I had ever heard, so rhythmical and so familiar. I could not place where I heard this knock before but I knew it well. I peeled my body off the floor, clutching my head and entered a realm of vertigo. I could not see a thing except for the dense atmosphere my fogger had created the night before. The knocking sounded again. I wanted to answer it and find out who was behind that mysterious sound but I was in a labyrinth of fog. I reached out for the walls of my home but no matter far I walked I could not find them. The fog had taken over my home and forsaken me in its world. Then I heard the knocking once more.

I abandoned all of my senses and relied solely on my ears. I listened to that strange rhythmic beat and followed its origin. It became louder and louder as I came closer to the door. The source of the knock must have sensed that I was close because it began to knock in double time. I reached out my hand, feeling for anything of solid mass, and felt the cold bronze of a door handle. I swung open the door and the fog violently spilled from my home much like the water of cracked aquarium.

At first I could not see a thing and my mind was full of confusion but soon my eyes began to refocus in this new environment. My vision became filled with the image of luscious red hair. My mouth opened wide and saliva dripped from my lips. I tried to gather myself and make sense of the outside world. My visitor's tiny lips began to take unknown shapes as they uttered the words "Hello Neighbor", in a voice that I had heard before. I was regaining control of myself and my eyes zoomed out taking in the entire body of my visitor. That is when I saw my him, my new neighbor, Dave Mustaine.



To Be Continued.......

The Ritual

When the internet was still in it's infancy I belonged to a mailing list that catered to people with my apt for wickedness. We told stories of the invocations in which we had meddled and traded tapes as well. There were few us and we were spread across the continents. Prior to my joining I thought that I was alone in my devilish deeds but I soon found out that there were others.

I used to rush to the mailbox every afternoon to see If I had received any new correspondence. I would stay up late writing my stories and creating hand drawn avatars of myself. One day I opened the mail box and received a letter from a man that I had never heard of. He told me that he had discovered a new path within himself and that I could reach new diabolical heights If I would only let him show me. I did not know what to think. I had never heard of this man and when I asked the other members if they had received any form of contact from him, they all told me the same thing. They had never heard of or received any messages from the person I spoke of. I received more letters from him and shared it with the mailing list. Some were intrigued by what I shared but many called me a fraud and accused of me faking the whole correspondence. I soon received less and less contact from my sinister friends until my mail box was bare.

I had been banished, completely isolated from the group. With no where to turn I wrote to this man who shall not be named. He understood what I was going through and shared with me a similar story from his youth. However, the things he learned that caused his exile were the things in which he claimed had opened his mind. He promised me that if I let him show me his invocations that I would become more powerful than all my former friends and they would worship me. I did not know what I was getting myself into. I told him that I wanted to know, that I wanted to learn. One week later I received a package in the mail. I opened it and found the VHS that I had expected.

That tape sat on my bed for hours as I paced around my room. My mom called me for dinner but I had no appetite. I stayed locked in my room wondering what was on that tape and if I was ready for the things he described. I waited and waited, and finally at half past 2:00 I was unable to withstand the questions any longer and injected the tape. What I saw then was the most horrible ritual that eyes had ever seen. The path that this sorcery lead was so dark that I could not follow. I ejected the tape immediately and set it on fire. It burned a wretched smell, a smell that was so evil that my walls were stained green . However, no matter how many times I set it a flame their was a portion that would not catch. I have kept that short interval of video for all these years safely hidden and had not shared it with anyone. I believe that it alone, without the rest of the ritual, will pose you no threat, but I must warn you that by watching this you may bring yourself to madness!

In my Darkest hours

Every day I peeled out of the school parking lot with decade of aggression bleeding from my speakers. My windows were always rolled down because I wanted everyone to realize how fucking evil I was, and they did. Being evil was awesome. The only thing that sucked about it was that you spent most of the time being evil by yourself. I needed someone to hang out with while my fog machine filled up my bedroom, and hopefully someone whose hair was longer than mine.

With no one to relate to I used dig into my VHS collection and put on Florida Championship Wrestling. I loved watching Kevin Sullivan and his minions smash their opponents into disfigurment. I was convinced that he was the most evil man on the Earth and I looked up to him like a step dad. The most amazing thing about him was that while painting his face and conjuring up some wicked shit he managed to find a sick as fuck, sadistic, skinny chick. I idolized Sullivan and wanted what he had. I learned everything I know about relationships by watching those tapes. However, I was still alone, in my room, reading the Goetia.


I watched their relationship grow and become something stronger than even Kevin himself. Their darkness fed each other and together they embarked on horrific journeys to parts unknown. That was all I wanted. I wanted a girl that was into the darkest of shit. A girl that I could write Deicide lyrics to and later we could do evil stuff to each other.

It was no use. What Kevin had was rare and did not extend to me. I realized that I would never be able to use my Ouija board without another pair of hands, so I set it on fire. The darkness crept into my mind and sent me into a tirade of madness. I had given up speaking with others entirely and would only acknowledge them by hissing. Things were not working out for me, so I decided that If I was going to be alone than I was going to do it the right way and move to the forrest.

There was nothing you could have told me that would have changed my mind. I bagged up my knife collection and put on my best pair of camouflage pants. I was on my way when I decided that I would attend school one last time. I wanted everyone to witness what true misery was, to see just how dark my beliefs had become. That is when I saw her.

It was the first day of the foreign exchange program and she would spend the next two months away from Norway and in my town. She was so evil that she wouldn't speak to anybody not even myself, she was awesome. Everyday I followed her in my car as she walked home from school and at the same spot on Willard St. she would always turn around, flip me off, and yell some sort of Norwegian swear word. I began stuffing Glen Benton inspired love notes in her locker and one time she threw dog shit at me. Things were not working out as planned so I turned to my Kevin Sullivan tapes. I watched and watched for hours and realized that if wanted this girl I had to something completely evil and then she would realize that we were meant for each other.

That was the day I had my Dad drop me off at school because of a self inflicted flat on my Toyota Camry. As soon as I saw her I got out of the car and made a huge coughing sound. When I saw that she was looking in my direction I motioned to my dad to roll down the window. As he rolled down the window he looked up at me with a half smile. It was at that moment that I clenched my knuckles as tightly as I could and punched him square in the face. I turned around immediately to look for her but before I saw her I felt a hand reach around my collar and drag me to the concrete. My dad preceded to kick my ass in front of the entire school. It was horrible, but then I looked up and I saw her smiling at me.

We spent the next 4 weeks together. It was the most amazing time in my life. We would go to the mall after school everyday and I would walk her with a dog collar tied around her neck. We were so evil together. I had become my own Kevin Sullivan and she was my Fallen Angel. Unfortunately, her trip got cut short after she tried to burn down her exchange parent's house. I never saw her again after that but I would write to her everyday. Below is the only picture I have of the two of us together. It is the first thing I look at every morning.