193 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
193 lines
12 KiB
Plaintext
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ ////////////////////////////////
|
|
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ ////////////////////////////////
|
|
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\' //////////////// .ao0.//////////
|
|
\\\\\\ YOOOOO000b.\\\\\ YOOOOO00000@@@@@//// dOO000@////////
|
|
\\\\\ YOOO0000@@@b\\\' YOOO00000@@@@@P// dOOO000@D//////
|
|
\\\\ OO0000@@@@@b' / OO000P///////// dOOO000@P/////
|
|
\\ O000P'\Y@@@@D/// O0000q///////// OO000@P/////
|
|
' 0000\\\\Y@@@D/// 00000@@@@@////// 000@@@@q/
|
|
Editor: 0000Q\'d@@@@D/// 0000@@@@@P//////// @@@@@@@.
|
|
Access Denied 000@@@@@@@@P'/// 000@@P//////////// .d@@@@@D X Marks The
|
|
d00@@@@@@@P'//// d00@@@a///////// d@@@@@@@@@' Shit
|
|
d00@@@@@@P'///// d00@@@@@@//////// @@@@@@@@'
|
|
///////////////////////////////\ Y@@@@'
|
|
///////////////////////////////\\\\ Y@'\\\\
|
|
///////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
|
|
///////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
|
|
///////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
|
|
///////////////////////////////\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
|
|
/////////////////////////////// \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
|
|
|
|
D a m n e d F u c k i n g S h i t
|
|
|
|
- Presents -
|
|
|
|
Issue #53
|
|
Date: 8/26/95
|
|
Title: The Ritual
|
|
Author: Vald The Impaler
|
|
|
|
The Ritual
|
|
==========
|
|
|
|
Disclaimer: I'm not satanic.
|
|
|
|
Everything was quiet. Even the crackling of the fire seemed
|
|
to silence itself as I withdrew the gleaming silver blade from its
|
|
black velvet covering. My hooded face reflected in the polished
|
|
surface of the cold silver, black eyes gleaming in pleasure at the
|
|
thought of what I was finally getting my chance to do. The chanting
|
|
started around me, the four other cloaked figures slowly moving into
|
|
position around the table. I closed my eyes and began the chant as
|
|
well, the deep baritone of my voice overpowering the others this
|
|
night as my tongue recited the familiar words. We took our positions
|
|
around the table, myself at the head with the others in a pentagram
|
|
formation encircling the stone altar. My eyes shot open, my voice
|
|
rising yet louder as I began weaving intricate patterns in the air
|
|
with the ancient blade.
|
|
Below me lay the unconscious form of our willing sacrifice. He
|
|
was heavily sedated, not wishing to feel the pain that he would have
|
|
to endure otherwise. He had asked us to help him attain his place
|
|
of power over others in the netherworld. He knew who his master
|
|
was, and chose to embrace him with open arms rather than run from
|
|
him as so many others did. He wanted to be the master of his death,
|
|
not a slave to it. This night, I was to set him free.
|
|
From my pocket I withdrew a black leather pouch. I loosened the
|
|
drawstring and removed a pinch of the fine yellow powder contained
|
|
within, a mixture of the burnt remains of past sacrifices to the
|
|
unholy lord. I opened my friend's mouth and sprinkled the ash upon
|
|
his relaxed tongue, letting his saliva turn the powder into a
|
|
brownish paste. His mouth closed itself as his head fell back onto
|
|
the stone altar. I returned the pouch to my robe, then withdrew a
|
|
small steel circlet in the shape of a pentagram. This I put into a
|
|
bowl of water boiling above a strong fire next to the altar. We waited
|
|
then, chanting the entire time, giving praise to this one who would go
|
|
forth into the netherworld and become like a god unto others, the
|
|
poor condemned souls who were not strong enough to realize their full
|
|
potential in death.
|
|
When the time came, I reached into the scalding water and removed
|
|
the unholy symbol of power. My hand was scorched lightly, but when I
|
|
positioned the charm upon my friend's exposed chest, the skin under
|
|
the heated metal began to hiss softly as burn blisters formed. I again
|
|
picked up the knife from where I had unconsciously laid it next to his
|
|
head. The four hooded figures backed away from the table, giving me
|
|
room to move freely about the sedated man lying supine upon his altar
|
|
of sacrifice. I circled to the left, lightly tracing a line from his
|
|
forehead to the simmering pentagram upon his chest, never breaking the
|
|
surface of his skin.
|
|
The chanting of the other four men silenced as I began to speak my
|
|
own verses in a tongue not known to men, not even known to myself. My
|
|
pulse quickened as the words came to me, echoing supernaturally in my
|
|
mind and burning there until they were released by my speaking them.
|
|
My hand raised unbidden by me to place the dagger above my friend's
|
|
forehead. I lowered the gleaming blade to touch his skin, making a
|
|
small indentation in the smooth surface of his forehead before drawing
|
|
blood. The sharp blade easily pierced the thin layer of skin above his
|
|
skull, although little blood flowed. I traced a line down his nose,
|
|
dividing his lips in perfect symmetry, forcing a thin line of crimson
|
|
to appear wherever the blade had touched. I slid the blade gently down
|
|
his neck, my steady hand cutting no deeper than the skin for I was not
|
|
to end his life just yet.
|
|
Blood began to flow with more strength than it had upon his head,
|
|
surging out in small rivulets to the beating of his heart. I
|
|
continued quickly now, knowing that if he perished before I was through
|
|
with the vivisection he would not be assured his rightful place of
|
|
power over the dead. I continued to draw the red line down from his
|
|
neck to his chest. The iron pentagram had long since cooled, but when
|
|
I removed it from his chest the skin underneath continued to sizzle
|
|
with an unholy heat of it's own. Never slowing the pace of the blade,
|
|
I bisected the symbol of our lord branded upon my friend's chest, and
|
|
continued downward without pause. I passed the bottom of his rib cage
|
|
and was surprised at the supernatural ease with which I cut through
|
|
the muscle of his abdomen while not damaging any of his organs inside.
|
|
I felt filled with power - not merely the feeling of mastery over life,
|
|
but the feeling of a greater power joining me, a greater power guiding
|
|
my ritualistic movements.
|
|
The razor-sharp blade seemed to remove itself from his flesh as I
|
|
completed the cut, dripping a single deep red drop of my friend's life
|
|
blood as I inspected the perfect line running from the top of his
|
|
forehead to the bottom of his abdomen. Low chanting began behind me,
|
|
and I remembered the other members of my cult who had fallen silent as
|
|
I made the long cut down our sacrifice's body. They circled uniformly
|
|
to the other side of the altar, their bare feet hardly making a sound
|
|
underneath their heavy robes. I made a second cut below his rib cage,
|
|
quickly changing the single original line into the greater part of
|
|
an unholy cross upon his body. Then he moaned softly.
|
|
I faltered slightly, trying not to be distracted by the fact
|
|
that his life was slipping quickly away. I knew that this was what
|
|
he wanted, what we all wanted, but I still had a twinge of guilt
|
|
about killing another human. The feeling faded quickly though as
|
|
foreign powers within me told me that this was right. They reminded
|
|
me that he would have power in death, but that I would have a great
|
|
power over death myself once I passed from this plane, if I would
|
|
prove I already have some mastery over life. My cut across his
|
|
abdomen complete, I moved to the middle of his chest and traced the
|
|
lines that the scalding-hot pentagram had left in his skin without
|
|
further qualms.
|
|
Two disciples moved to stand on either side of him, and I
|
|
positioned myself over his head. They reached forward, tracing the
|
|
line I had made across his chest, and took hold of his skin where
|
|
the two cuts met. His flesh tore sickeningly as they pulled the
|
|
skin away from his rib cage, exposing the bloody white bones
|
|
underneath. I leaned forward with the knife still in my hand, and
|
|
began to cut through the tough cartilage between his ribs. Logic
|
|
kept telling me it would not work, but as my brain told me I was
|
|
attempting the impossible powerful forces within me easily guided
|
|
the ritual blade through bone and cartilage, creating an impossibly
|
|
perfect line through his sternum. The two hooded figures reached
|
|
forward and pulled back on his ribs. The bones did not wield much
|
|
strength though against hands guided by our dark lord, and they
|
|
were pried back to reveal his beating heart inside.
|
|
Even though he must have been completely drained of blood from
|
|
the cuts, his heart still beat strongly. I felt power deep
|
|
inside me as I knew what I must do. The others backed away and
|
|
turned to the woods about us, a horribly powerful voice inside each
|
|
of us telling us that none other than he who wielded the blade
|
|
may witness this act. I raised the knife high above my head, a
|
|
drop of blood falling in slow motion to land upon the sacrifice's
|
|
forehead, spattering tiny droplets of blood outward from the cut
|
|
that divided his face in two.
|
|
I closed my eyes, drawing power from the dark presence I felt
|
|
within my soul. Slowly, I opened them again, and saw before me the
|
|
face of a man different than that of my friend, different from that
|
|
of any mortal being. The cut was there, the beating heart was the
|
|
same, but what lay before me was the essence of evil, dormant,
|
|
waiting to take the soul of his host back to hell with him. He was
|
|
the ultimate evil escort; Satan himself come to take my friend back
|
|
to hell, and his eyes were open and staring into mine. I nearly
|
|
panicked at the sight, feeling all willpower and strength drain from
|
|
my body, mind, and soul. I had never once felt fear before in my
|
|
life, but looking into the eyes of evil incarnate nearly stopped the
|
|
beating of my heart.
|
|
Terror gripped me, but a power did too. My mind was no longer
|
|
my own. My body became taken by another. My soul itself seemed to
|
|
be controlled by the dark presence before me. I no longer needed
|
|
urging from my lord, I no longer needed directions. The dark angel
|
|
before me was in control now, directing my body where he would have it
|
|
go. No longer myself, I leaned forward and plunged the silver blade
|
|
through my friend's beating heart, I the unwilling master over life
|
|
and death.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Find DFS On These Fine Systems (When they're up...)
|
|
==========================================================================
|
|
| Paradise Lost +1.414.476.3181 DFS World HQ |
|
|
| Temporary Insanity +1.414.666.WHEE DFS Affiliate HQ |
|
|
| Arcane Asylum +1.414.PSY.CHOS DFS Thingy HQ |
|
|
| Arrested Development +31.77.547477 DFS European HQ |
|
|
| The FlipSide +1.419.836.8331 DFS Midwest HQ |
|
|
| |
|
|
| FTP - etext.archive.umich.edu - /pub/Zines/DFS |
|
|
| |
|
|
| I've dropped all the other distros cuz I don't know if they're up |
|
|
| anymore. If you are a distro and you're not listed, or you want to be |
|
|
| a distro, mail adenied@earth.execpc.com and tell me. Also if you |
|
|
| have any comments, questions, or concerns mail them there! |
|
|
| |
|
|
| ASCII Art by Incarnate |
|
|
| |
|
|
| To submit, call Paradise Lost and log on as DFS. The password is: |
|
|
| JINGLE JINGLE |
|
|
==========================================================================
|
|
|