The Cauldron By Charles Goodwin Chapter 15

The Founding of Chiron


Chapter 15

The Pit of Venom

Deep into the mountain under the castle the iron cell door crashed violently open. Don Ormsby winced with stinging pain. A heavy steel tipped boot thudded into his back. He tumbled blind folded, down two steps into the damp and musty chamber.

‘Strip!’ screamed the burliest guard.

Don groped his way to his feet and undressed in seconds. He stood naked in the centre of the draughty cell. He trembled more with the bitter cold than with fear. His lean ghost white body tinged a frigid mauve.

Lie down! Flat on your back. Arms and legs apart.’

He squatted and then laid back. The stone floor was paralyzing cold on his spine and buttocks - deathly cold - like the coldness of a slab in the city morgue.

And he felt the agony of the minutes and seconds ticking by.

Ominous footsteps together with a muffled shuffling echoed from the stone corridor. His audio senses strained to near disintegration behind the tight blindfold. The footsteps came closer - chillingly closer.

‘That must be them now,’ grunted the second guard to his clonish cohort.

Don heard his clothes being hastily garnered into a plastic bag.

‘The sooner we’re out of here the better. These lowest level dungeons give me the creeps,’ came the gravenous reply.

The footsteps stopped.

‘You may go now!’ The ordered voice was strangely familiar. The guards scuttled off down the corridor.

Total silence. More agonizing minutes passed.

Don wasn’t sure if he at first heard the sound or felt the presence. But he was sure it was there. At first a sustained dragging sound.

His skin cells froze.

It slithered, as laggardly as a hairy caterpillar - reptilian - over his feet and up the inside of his left leg. It was moist and only slightly warmer than his icy nude body.

He didn’t dare move externally - not even a tremble. A petrifying continuous shudder electrified up his spine.

No! How could they have possibly known my greatest fear? His mind flashed the unwelcome sadistic thought into his consciousness.

The long snake inched slowly over his genitals and across his belly, carving a suave of terror deep into his soul. His body hairs bristled like abrasive sandpaper.

The black reptile now slithered its way up over the skin of his chest. Perspiration beaded like white pearls on Don’s forehead.

The snake stopped! And in some ways the unknowing was worse.

Don’s eyes behind the sweat soaked blindfold were clenched shut. A second snake began to slide up his right leg. Then another. The first serpent now began to move over his starched face. He felt its waxy body slouch over his parted lips - across his teeth - then up and across the bridge of his nose.

Snakes! How many? Movement. Blackness. Crawling, slivering.

He felt as if his whole body had been reduced to a scaly and limbless mass of wobbling jelly. Hopeless terror. He could take no more.

‘Ahhhh! Get them off me!’ He bellowed from his soul, losing total control over his cracked emotions.

He stumbled to his feet, deliriously kicking and pushing at the snakes. He ripped the blindfold off with naked defiance. He waited for the expected burst of submachine gun fire to end his stupefying torment.

The shots did not crack.

Don’s eyes took seconds to adjust to the dim light. The snakes had disappeared! He connected the familiar sounding voice with the blurred figure standing before him.

‘Paul?’ he stuttered, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with disbelief. ‘Is that you? I don’t understand.’

The figure grinned debasedly without answering.

‘No, he is not Paul,’ growled Marduk from the other side of the cell.

Don spun round. His eyes locked on to the fiendish robed occult master.

Marduk’s face took on the appearance of a half rotted leprous corpse. His red eyes oozed globular fluid of sticky blood. The three snakes were now coiled up like faithful pets at his feet, their huge heads facing Don and their guarding lidless eyes portraying an evil human-reptilian stare.

Don reeled with giddiness.

He fought in desperation to avoid losing consciousness from the shock. The pupils of his eyes dilated with bubonic terror.

‘But he’s an excellent replica, don’t you agree? The plastic surgeons have excelled themselves,’ continued Marduk, his face suddenly turning almost human. Marduk knew from viewing Don’s penetrable aura that his victim was now ready!

Even facing imminent death, Don’s mind needed to analyze its way to comprehension. Paul’s double looked a perfect match. He realized that Paul was being set up to be replaced by his ‘twin.’

‘I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know. Why don’t you kill me now and get it over with?’ he yelled aggressively, hoping to avoid torture with a speedy death.

Marduk glared and looked offended. He twirled his cloak and leaned his head to one side. His hawk nose sniffed as if he was smelling Don’s fear.

‘Oh, and who said anything about killing you. Do you feel you deserve to die?’ he sniggered.

Don’s expression crashed from defiance to bewilderment. ‘Hell no! I tried my best at all times....’

‘Of course you have,’ interrupted Marduk, ‘And we rate your services highly.’

‘But the questions Nergal asked?... I was dragged down here by the guards and forced to strip...’

Marduk’s livid fury blew like a tempest. His words hissed with venom. ‘You made enquiries with your CIA friends relating to Paul’s birth. You failed to mention to Heinrich Ravenscroft anything about the letter Rebecca Childs left for Paul. You protected Rebecca from Hans Van der Hyde. You even intended warning Paul of such matters!’

Don gulped. His fractured mind shimmered. How on earth did he find out? The beast seems to read my most inner thoughts.

Don’s eyes surrendered as he pleaded his case. ‘I don’t deny what you say. However, if you know all this, then you must also have understood my predicament. I was attempting to serve two masters.’

Marduk shrieked a mocking, haunting laugh. ‘Yes, exactly! More than you could possibly realize.’ He edged closer to Don glaring at him hypnotically. His hellish eyes lashed Don’s soul like blue lightning. ‘You’ve had many lifetimes to decide which master to serve. Now I’m afraid it’s too late. You see Don, the lilies in the pond have now doubled for the last time. All the fish are dead!’

He grabbed Don by the chin, yanking his face upwards.

‘Look into my eyes,’ he commanded with bilish arrogance.

Don stared into the time warp of Hell.

Marduk’s awesome presence emitted waves of negative energy directly onto Don’s defenseless will. Demonic beings from the denser dimensions flashed past Don’s awareness in a slide show of ghoul. His physical existence now reduced to a nightmarish play of illusion.

‘Promise me, from now on, you will serve only one master!’

The absence of any disciplined focus on spiritual matters took its toll. Don’s will crumbled like honeycomb. ‘I promise.’

His aura was gravely flawed and now totally vulnerable. A brilliant light energy in his third eye shone momentarily as if to offer a sad goodbye. Or perhaps to sow a merciful seed of hope?

Despondency engulfed his being. A darkness inundated his vital life essence. A grim darkness akin to a heavy velvet curtain morbidly drawn across a sunlit window.

Marduk whirled a pointed forefinger from his left hand, anti clockwise to the ethers. He shouted occult commands into the trans-dimensional psychic vortex being created.

Don immediately felt a suffocating, gripping presence in his crown and heart chakras. Renegade thoughts began to fight their way into his mind which weren’t of his own will, or from his own frequency. A surge of adrenalin empowered from his root chakra, negatively re-charged his spirit.

‘What’s happening to me?’ beseeched Don trembling. His voice noticeably deeper. His consciousness now far away.

Marduk sneered with vain satisfaction. ‘An excellent example of instant karma. Even when you killed Hans and Hilda, you served me well!’

Don croaked into a possessed hysterical laugh. He vaguely heard himself reply with a faint Dutch accent. Yet the ugly words were not his.

‘It’s good to be back to serve you Master. That is for certain!’

Marduk placed his two outstretched wrinkled hands over Don’s forehead and sealed off the auric opening.

The "walk in" possession was complete.

‘Your consciousness will now understand that you are the entity known as Donald Ormsby,’ exhorted Marduk. ‘Your duty is to do my bidding at all times.’

He paused and made the sign of an inverted cross on his victim’s forehead.

‘So mote it be.’

Don’s bodily temple was now dominated by an unwelcome evil tenant. His estranged mind limited to a jumbled insane awareness of foreign cascading thoughts. His existence entrapped in the despondent state of Limbo - a shadowy dream state of non-reality.

He was now conjoined with the living dead.

2

Paul’s gold Rolex showed six minutes past nine - and he was still waiting.

The giddiness had returned but he considered the condition to be less severe than the previous evening’s illness. He sat nervously at his office desk doodling on a notepad with his ballpoint. His agitation mounted.

With the exception of the marble faced security guards, the subterranean building seemed deserted.

And Sonia was already six minutes late.

‘This place reminds me of being on night shift in a creepy asylum for the mentally insane,’ he whispered, attempting to shore up his courage with wry humor. ‘In fact I’d become bloody obese if I was a resident vampire here at the castle.’

And then he thought, Sonia leapt at the chance of accompanying me to tonight’s ritual lesson, just as Bashar had predicted, so where the hell is she?

Paul had enjoyed the two bottles of white burgundy and Sonia’s enchanting company at the staff restaurant that afternoon. Though perhaps not in that order. He’d purposely ate lightly, in case his ‘virus’ proved to be intestinal and aggravated by food.

And Paul had re-stated his feelings forcibly to Sonia.

‘Look I don’t mind you coming with me tonight, but if you do, be there for me only,’ he’d insisted, over the fourth glass of wine. ‘If we go as a couple, don’t suck up giggling like an immature school girl to Bashar the minute he offers you encouragement.’

Sonia chose to pacify Paul rather than to argue the point. She’d replied consolingly, ‘I’ve promised you darling, I’ll be there for you as long as you need me. You’ll eventually understand that I am your’s unconditionally.’

Upon returning to his suite he’d managed to sleep for two restful hours but the giddiness now seemed to increase his agitation. His mind was becoming less rational - less coherent.

‘Perhaps I upset her. Maybe she changed her mind about coming,’ he lamented.

9.15pm and the telephone rang.

‘Oh Paul, sorry I’m late...’ Her voice was breathless and noticeably stressed.

‘Where have you been?’ prompted Paul sharply. ‘You were meant to meet me here at nine.’

‘Darling, right after I left you this afternoon, I received a message on my beeper to report at once to the laboratory. My colleagues had a bit of an emergency with some genetic results. I only returned a half hour ago.’

He felt that Sonia was lying. ‘What happened? No let me guess. A new virus strain - one of your brilliant team’s new virulent creations - has somehow escaped and is out there mutating like an atomic time bomb. And as a consequence, the whole human race is now in danger of being rendered sterile. So they naturally had to put in a crisis call to Sonia!’

The intensity and subject matter of Paul’s sarcastic denunciations shocked Sonia. Her frosty silence was unnerving.

‘Well, are you going to answer me?’ he asked curtly.

‘Sir, while you are in this castle, you would be well advised to keep to yourself cynical statements like the one you have just made. Only an ignorant fool would make such comments over the in-house telephone system!’

Paul retreated. He’d touched raw nerves. He was hurtling into an anomalous and uncontrollable relationship with Sonia. A relationship based on mutual control and possessiveness - and a good measure of angry sensuality.

‘So when can you get here?’

‘Give me ten minutes to finish my hair. Shall I ring Bashar and tell him we’re running late?’

‘No! I’ll ring him,’ he replied defensively and then added, ‘To save time I’ll meet you upstairs in the courtyard.’

‘Will you bring the bottle of Dom Perignon with you? In case you feel like a glass of champagne afterwards in your rooms. There’s a carry bag in the kitchenette in your office.’

An excited flush of blood rushed to Paul’s face.

‘I’ll think about it, Sonia.’

‘You do that, sir. And just in case I’ll select my most expensive lacy underwear.’

3

Feline eyes.

Watchful eyes that moved with Heinrich in the semi darkness as he shuffled passed. Indomitable lurking eyes that stared guardedly out from the ethers and from those taxidermic sculls on the walls. The rank incense smoke. The dripping stalactites. The double circle of green and black candles. The Glyphical evocation symbols.

And the grooved alter of blood...

‘Welcome Heinrich. Welcome to my humble abode.’ Marduk stood erect high upon his circular monolith. His voice was aberrantly friendly. He was alone. Alone with the ghostly wails and sobs from the multitude of purgatorial souls of his victims.

‘Come to me.’

Heinrich felt listless, almost faint. A fever of fear blitzed through his blood. His legs became weak and pliable like plasticine. The constant stream of macabre speculative images that had flowed through his mind since receiving Nergal’s message, now vanished. So much so, that it was now difficult to frame a single thought.

‘Look at me Heinrich. There is nothing to fear.’

Heinrich peered up into the vacuous face under the hood. The face was smiling, and oddly younger - no longer ancient. A seductive and charismatic metamorphosis. A face that now cast a hypnotic spell of satanic charm.

‘Kneel at the foot of the alter and drink from the emerald chalice.’

Heinrich kneeled and with his two trembling hands, held the jeweled silver cup. The liquid was scarlet. He closed his eyes and lifted the chalice to his blue lips. The concoction smelt like a fusion of cherry wine, exotic herbs and human blood - and it was. It tasted sweet - and potently hot, as if staked with lashings of chili powder.

‘Drink it all down.’

Heinrich obeyed. The fiery spasms in his stomach burnt like the heat of a crematorium. His forehead began to perspire freely. His body convulsed violently.

‘Lie down on the alter!’

Heinrich was losing consciousness fast. He dragged himself up onto the marble slab to Marduk’s bare feet.

‘Master save me,’ he uttered deliriously.

‘Do not resist. Let go.’

Heinrich collapsed onto his back and fell into the trance state of catalepsy. The magus sneered and his sneer was one of vain satisfaction.

An extended vibrationary pause ensued.

Eerie awakening.

Astral mist, smoke - misery - denseness. The rank smell of sulphur. Hells!

‘Where are we?’ The voice echoed internally, yet from a distance.

‘On the other side.’

‘Am I dead?’

‘Ah! The purpose of this ritual is so that you may experience the fallacy and illusionary nature of death.’ The black Master communicated telepathically. ‘There is no such state as death. Only degrees of life. Death is neither to be feared nor to be considered as an escape. Death is not the opposite to life!’

Heinrich felt disorientated and baffled. Marduk’s form appeared solid. His own astral body felt equally physical, yet the throng of freakish thought form entities around him patently ignored his presence. The repugnant bodies of the denizens of the lower dimensions were misty, ghostly. Their zombie like movements were the pathetic movements of the living dead.

Marduk continued. ‘Life is consciousness and consciousness is eternal. Even the analogy that death is like changing your clothes, over rates death. Death is the immeasurable split second switch, where the consciousness is focused from one dimension to another. From the dream of one level of existence to the dream of a higher or lower level of existence. It is that transient point where boiling water turns into steam. Where water is no longer water but is not yet steam.’

Heinrich’s mind framed a question.

Marduk answered. ‘We stand beneath the castle in the astral dimension. Our vibration rate is oscillating at a slightly higher frequency. That is why these inhabitants appear ethereal to us and also the reason why they can’t see us. These realms are as real or as unreal as the physical realm from whence you came. These catacombs proceed miles into the depths of the earth. The mass of negative energy generated here is a psychic power plant of unimaginable proportions. Millions of souls are astrally entombed within this labyrinth, wallowing in their own Dungeons of Despair.’

‘Marduk, I don’t understand. Why are they content to stay?’

Marduk smirked and for a moment the evil panther face re-appeared. ‘Ignorance and fear! When these souls last incarnated on earth they hid their talent of gold in the dirt - but as it is written, from him that hath not prospered, shall be taken away even that which he hath. And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Souls are drawn to their corresponding vibrationary rate, and in the process, lower entities lose any true knowledge they may have acquired. Hades translates as the ‘unseen world’ or the ‘outer darkness’. These souls are each languishing in their individual self created hell. An nightmarish inferno that mirrors their sensualities and desires. They, like all of us, are creating their own reality.’ Marduk’s nostril’s flared and he glared at Heinrich from the corner of his eyes before continuing. ‘But their combined group consciousness is harnessable into a power. A power so immense that in comparison, a plutonium bomb’s energy would rate no higher than a lighted candle!’

Heinrich gulped incredulously. A wave of fear swept through his veins at the grim thought of being cast into the never-worlds.

‘What is their means of escape from their illusions?’

‘Knowledge born out of direct experience - or intervention from higher souls.’ And as Marduk intoned the words ‘higher souls’, his loathing fury immediately unleashed into a devastating hurricane. Fiery kinetic energy lashed through the honeycombed underworld like a nuclear fire storm. And in its wake, howls of tormentuous anguish echoed up from the deeper levels.

Heinrich cowered from the vile tempest by shielding his arms over his eyes.

‘This impending Armageddon is about power!’ Marduk’s telepathic astral voice shrieked and reverberated in Heinrich’s head. ‘The power gained from dominion over ignorant souls. The ultimate creative and destructive powers of the Gods! These souls and the souls on the myriads of other planes, are our psychic energy source to devour and utilize as we see fit. We must not fail! We will not fail!’

We will not fail.

Heinrich awoke alone on the alter. He opened his eyes to a lucid new level of awareness. His glimpse of inter-dimensional life had rewarded him with many new sinister insights. Not the least of which was the realization of the inter-connectiveness of the dimensions. That power in the physical transposes to power in the cosmos.

No, the project must not fail, he thought and he realized for the first time that Marduk had never intended the creation of an ordered and subdued world society. The black Master’s sole aim was to turn the world into a grisly spiritual abattoirs. A planetary slaughterhouse of terror where legions of souls would be raised in ignorance for their psychic flesh like unsuspecting cattle or poultry. A world devoid of spiritual growth, darkened by suffocating astral smog.

Prophetic images now began to flash into Heinrich’s mind. Graphic images of ultimate evil. Of civil wars devastating the planet. Of tactical nuclear weapons exploding in the battlegrounds of northern India and China. Radiation sickness - mass hunger - disease on a scale hitherto unimaginable. A new dark age descending upon the Earth.

And he heard the wretched sound of the Earth sobbing - an Earth racked with planetary cancer.

4

The iron latch rattled - the sound of hinges squeaking - and the heavy weathered oak door opened.

‘Ah, Paul my brother, do come in.’ Bashar shot Paul a sagacious raised eyebrow before acknowledging Sonia.

The aromatic scent of essential oils and fragrant candle wax wafted out to greet them.

‘Sonia, I’m delighted you could make it. You look enchantingly beautiful as usual. Please, this way - we’ll go on up to my meditation room, yes?’

Sonia remained indifferent to the orange robed mystic’s compliment and instead squeezed Paul’s hand. She placed the carry bag on the slate floor by the coat stand in the candle lit hall and removed her suede coat. She’d purposefully dressed in a non-provocative blue satin blouse and a flared knee length skirt.

And her green eyes gleamed up at Paul from under her eyelashes as she caught his approving virgoan appraisal of her choice of outfit.

A Gothic archway at the end of the hall led to a stone stair well.

‘There are 186 circular stone steps up to the chamber. This particular turret was built at the request of an evil astrologer and sorcerer who resided in this castle in the fifteenth century. The necromancer was feared by the peasants in the surrounding countryside. Rumors abounded. Young maidens would often vanish from the face of the Earth on the premise that they had been given work in other lands. The legend has it that on still nights the screams and sobs coming from the dungeons of the castle echoed through the misty valleys for miles. The Baron who owned the castle at the time prospered and eventually became one of the wealthiest and most powerful noblemen in Europe.’

The spiral stone steps were steep, almost vertical.

Bashar led the way with a powerful oil lantern. Paul beckoned Sonia to follow Bashar.

‘Hmm, this could be interesting,’ she whispered seductively. ‘You weren’t supposed to see my underwear till later. Are you sure you want me to go before you?’

Paul frowned, then grinned and ushered her on.

‘As you wish, sir. But I suggest you watch your step - as well!’

And Paul did watch his step. At least for the first half a dozen. The voyeurism within him at first stirred - then awoke - then fired insatiably. Sonia was wearing suspenders under a lace petticoat. Her stockings were also white. Her French knickers were loose fitting and were meant to be.

She turned and winced down at Paul. Her voice, although still a whisper, echoed in the stair well above the clattering of the footsteps.

‘Are you coming! You seem to be lagging behind for some reason.’

She ran her hand up her leg and in the process lifted up her skirt. ‘Why sir, your tongue is protruding from your lips! Now why might that be?’

‘Now now, stop teasing him Sonia,’ bellowed Bashar’s jovial voice from above and around the walled staircase.

Sonia grinned at Paul and wiggled her bottom twice before proceeding with sexual eloquence up the steps.

Paul cleared his throat. The situation reminded him of when he saw for the first time as a boy, unclad mannequins in a department store window smiling at him. He’d felt at first shocked and embarrassed. But circled and retraced his steps several times - until the window dresser relieved the models of their wigs. Paul was aghast at the naked alien domes and never once returned to the window.

‘Bashar, why do you use lanterns and candles? Surely the power must be connected,’ he asked vacuously.

Bashar’s voice resonated with authority. ‘Power cables emit a subtle electro magnetic force that interferes with the Earth’s natural polarity and the polarity of the body. The electro magnetic field of the average modern house or office is a spiritual and physical ‘death’ trap. Especially when the building is built over underground streams or in close proximity to overhead power lines.’

Bashar reached the top of the steps and waited. By the time Paul and Sonia joined Bashar upon the landing, they were breathless and red faced (though for different reasons).

Bashar now continued. ‘In the dimensional universe magnetism is of far more importance than gravity. When science is able to harness the immense healing power of magnetic energy, disease will be conquered. Consider your body as the microcosm of the Earth. The magnetic field of electrical cables distort the body’s polarity which in turn, gradually drains the body’s immune system. Ill health and disease is the result. People with switched, or reversed polarity, suffer from auto immune diseases and cancers.’

‘You are not implying we should throw out our electrical appliances and return to candles, are you?’ puffed Sonia bewildered.

Bashar’s raven silken hair waved across his shoulders. ‘I personally would be happier, but no I am not implying that. The conduits on the cables need to be redesigned so as to act as an insulation against the electro magnetic waves. Also science will need to understand the body’s acupuncture meridian lines and to develop the technology to monitor variations when these lines are exposed to differing magnetic impulses.’

Bashar unlocked the door of the chamber as he spoke.

‘Walk barefoot on the beach or in the country and afterwards lie down and feel the energy tingling in your feet. Fresh, locally produced foods also have healing magnetic properties. Turn the main power switch off upon retiring, face your bed to true magnetic north, and experience the difference in the quality of your sleep and spiritual dreams. You will soon discover why occult masters still use candles!’

He turned to Paul and Sonia and intimated with his hand for them to enter the circular room.

Paul was overawed with Bashar. A half hearted question relating to the lighting had resulted in yet another valuable lesson. He was now beginning to understand that everything Bashar uttered had a significant purpose.

The brightly colored room was steeped with occult symbology. A vast five pointed jade-green star with rays of glowing topaz and bordered by a diamond, covered the mosaic floor. Within the centre of the pentagram was a smaller star, the color of bright ruby.

Around the gold leafed dome ceiling were portrayed the allegorical pictures of the 22 Major Arcana of the Tarot commencing with The Fool and ending with The World. A mural depicting the ancient Gods had been painted in tempera around the circular walls.

The only window in the room was narrow, almost a slit, and faced magnetic north. An alter draped with an orange cloth was positioned under the window. Upon each side of the alter stood a lighted candle in a silver holder - a red candle to the left and a green to the right. Upon the alter were two hand mirrors, an empty brass receptacle, burning incense, a small container of an essential oil, a chamois Gris Gris or Mojo bag, a bowl of salt water, two writing pads and matches.

Bashar closed the door and clasped his hands together. ‘Spend a few moments attuning to the vibrations of the room and then we’ll begin the ritual.’ He dragged three cushions into the centre and sat down and motioned Paul and Sonia to do likewise.

‘What is the symbolic meaning of the mosaic floor?’ asked Paul, slightly nervous of the room’s intense energy.

‘The mandala is the symbol of worldly success. ‘Dia-mond’ means ‘The Earth Goddess’, bestower of precious stones and metals. The ace of pentacles represents success and worldly riches.

The five pointed star also represents the five points of the body - the head, the two outstretched hands and the feet - that is why the single point always points upwards, or in this case, to the north. The small centre star represents the soul or higher self, the ultimate creator of the illusory play. Topaz, jade and rubies enhance spiritual powers.’

‘And the significance of the colored candles?’

‘Red represents love, sexuality, strength and physical vigor. The green symbolizes money, good fortune, financial success and fertility - good crops, successful harvest and the like.’

‘What about black candles?’ queried Paul, remembering the circle of black candles in his nightmare.

Bashar gazed up at Paul penetratingly. ‘Black candles are the color of evil, of sadness, of loss.

'Why do you ask?’

‘I experienced a dreadful nightmare last night.’

‘Oh I see. And you saw colors in this nightmare, yes?’

‘Vividly! The colors were incredible. The red blood of a sacrificial victim on a circular stone alter. The colored candles...’

‘And tell me Paul,’ interrupted Bashar, ‘Did others in this dream talk to you? Did you actually hear their voices?’

‘Yes of course! There was this robed black magician who seemed to epitomize evil. He insisted I drink the blood of the young woman he’d just killed. There were dozens of demonic entities chanting and cussing.’

‘Then what you experienced was neither a dream nor a hallucination.’

‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’

‘Paul, listen to me. When you eat too much cheese, or drink too much wine before retiring, your physical body dreams, yes?’

Paul nodded and grinned lightly. ‘Especially when I lay on my back.’

‘Your etheric, astral bodies and mental bodies also experience dreams. These dreams are plays of consciousness, created astral visions and so on. But when you see vivid colors and hear voices in your dream, you are communicating in the fifth body, the spiritual body. Your consciousness is directed to the spiritual realms.’

‘But I often talk to people in my dreams.’

‘Paul you are an old soul. You are existing dimensionally on many levels at once. This physical everyday existence is but a dream also. Just as you understand that this physical world does not simply fade away while you are asleep, know also that the spiritual realms do not cease to exist while you are awake.’

Sonia was absorbed in silent contemplation. She was watching, listening, judging. Her cheeks were white, a whiteness extenuated by the flickering shadows of the eerie candles. She could feel Paul’s uneasiness and his unease and needs afforded her a confident security.

‘So you are telling me this... this nightmare was real?’

‘I am stating unequivocally, that when you converse with another in a dream you have awoken into the spiritual dimensions. Now tell me Paul, did you drink the sacrificial blood?’

‘Not willingly. In the end my mouth was forced open.’

‘Ah, your will held firm. That is good, yes?’

‘Bashar I don’t understand.’

‘I know you don’t. There is only so much I am permitted to teach you. The rest you must work out yourself. However, from what you have told me it is now even more important that you learn the psychic attack reversal ritual.’

‘Will you teach me also Bashar. It sounds most exciting,’ asked Sonia.

Bashar stared at Sonia severely and talked cryptically. ‘That is one of the reasons why I invited you to attend. If the two of you intend working closely together, you should both be continuously on guard. If they don’t succeed with Paul directly they will try to get at him via you. Now no more questions. Let us begin.’

Who the hell are they and what does he mean get at me, thought Paul in panic. A curious coldness ran down the nape of his neck.

‘But first a grave word of warning,’ continued Bashar firmly. ‘The ritual I am about to show you, works. Know that it works! It reverses the energy of the attack back to the perpetrator. And often with dire consequences. Use it discriminately - only when the psychic attack against you is of a serious nature.’

Bashar paused. He realized from the mystified expression on Paul and Sonia’s faces that they didn’t understand.

‘Witches and sorcerers have known for centuries the existence of the threefold law in the universe. Whatever one sends out into the ethers, will eventually return threefold. With this ritual the return is immediate - and powerful! As an example, if a group of individuals send you thoughts of hatred, they will receive in return three times the level of their own hatred. The effect will compound. The more hatred they send out, the angrier they become. The attackers are ultimately destroyed by their own seething hatred.

Death often occurs - sickness, financial ruin, or accidents to themselves or a loved one almost in all cases eventuate.

Hence the wisdom of turning the other cheek. A Master will never indulge in the negative games of others. Do you begin to understand the responsibility you are undertaking? This ritual may lead to the death of your enemies, even when you don’t wish for such a result. They are destroyed by their own negativity.’

Paul now understood clearly. There had been many people in his life to whom he’d felt a high regard for. People who had secretly harbored envious and vicious thoughts towards him. Nevertheless, he would not have wanted them to be destroyed by their own jealousies.

‘I understand Bashar, but what about the Black Master in my dream? Surely he would not be so easily destroyed.’

Bashar’s answer was resolute. ‘Marduk cannot be destroyed. He will immediately know you are protecting yourself. He has mastered all of the occult powers. The black magicians derive their power from their victim’s fears, attachments and desires. They know that all energy is transmutable - whether it is directed into sexual energy, emotional energy, creative energy and so on - it is of no difference. The source is the same. When Marduk becomes angry he will harness and use that anger for his own ends. No Paul, I’m afraid he will find other ways to try to possess you!’

Paul gulped. ‘You obviously know of this Marduk? How do you know his name?’

Bashar was deliberate in his reply. ‘Marduk was the name of the sorcerer who supervised the construction of this room back in the fifteenth century. His sinister energy still pervades this entire castle.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ stuttered Paul.

But he knew Bashar was not kidding. He knew he was being deadly serious. Paul’s higher consciousness was beginning to awaken. His inner thousand petalled lotus was stirring. The play unfolding before him was evil, and stimulating - yet still a dimensional play. His perception of reality had expanded greatly over the preceding few days.

And he resolved to play out his destiny - even if it meant being dragged through the hells in the process. His arrogance and confident pride was the visible manifestation of a strong will. A stubborn will - the power of which, he was only just now beginning to comprehend.

‘This Marduk, what ever his name is, must have an Achilles heel somewhere,’ said Paul his voice lowering almost to a point of inaudibility.

‘Marduk’s power is derived from the fear of the unawakened. A Christ or a Buddha will always shout, ‘Repent - wake up - change! Fear not! The spiritual dimensions are at hand! But few listen and even fewer understand. Eventually a religion empowered by fear is created in their name. Just as the priests with no one to preach to, would be left alone on their pulpits with their own self doubts and fears, so to would the dictator or black magician be powerless without the apathy of their enslaved flock.’

Bashar’s eyes began to transfigure with exhalation. ‘No, Marduk’s power will only wane when a massive shift in spiritual consciousness sweeps through the dimensions.’ His voice heightened to a thunder. ‘And when this long awaited cycle of renewal begins, the Earth Mother will once again heal and cleanse herself by tilting on her axis. The creation of the new poles will be preceded by massive earthquakes, tornadoes and tidal waves, the power of which is unimaginable. New lands will dramatically rise from the ocean floors. Antarctica will be like a lush new Europe - the future food basket for the new world. And Australia will replace India as the spiritual dynamo of human civilization.’

Pranic silence ensued. Paul sat spellbound. Bashar had now reiterated what Rebecca had told him at the restaurant.

And gradually the pursuit of money and power was beginning to seem juvenile and immature - and based in primal fear. Perhaps the riches of the spiritual realms were more permanent and fulfilling.

Bashar meditatively rose to his feet and picked up the two writing pads from the alter. He returned gently to his cushion and handed the pads to his two reverently inspired companions.

‘It is far better to use your own pens. I am about to dictate a declaration to you. To be effective the words of the ritual must be written in your own handwriting.’

And Bashar recited the words from memory -

Declaration

I ...full name.... hereby proclaim my right and destiny to live a healthy, enlightened and abundant life without uninvited influences of any description.

Thus, by the supreme occult authority and power of Abraxas, Osiris, Ra, Ishtar, Dagon, Bast and Ashtoreth, all belligerent spells, thought-forms and psychic attacks directed at me will now instead strike this mirror.

These destructive assaults will then be reflected with mighty and absolute psychic force to totally neutralize the source of the attacks.

From this moment forward all psychic attacks of control and possession against me are unequivocally reversed now and forever more.

My grateful thanks to all,

SO MOTE IT BE

‘You will need to write out the declaration twice so you have a copy to take with you. As you write, this time try to will your own life essence into the words. Charge them with positive vitality. In other words enthusiastically own the words.’

Bashar sat down in front of the alter. ‘After you’ve finished writing, come and sit along side of me. Bring your cushions and a copy of your declaration.’

Once they were seated Bashar picked up the bowl of salt water.

‘I am going to sprinkle this salt water in a half circle around the alter from wall to wall. This will protect the circle from unwelcome influences and will create a specific area for the build up of psychic power. The protection is broken immediately you step across the circle, so repeat the process each time you re-enter.’

Bashar ceremoniously sprinkled the liquid.

‘At this point you would now light your candles and incense if you hadn’t all ready done so.’
Bashar sat in the lotus position, with legs crossed and palms facing upwards on each knee.
‘Sit with spine erect. Relax. We’ll begin by chanting the Aum sound. Breath in from the base of the spine - then out through the third eye. As we chant the aums, invite your spirit friends from the other dimensions to join you in the ritual. Ask for their help, guidance and power. Call them from the spiritual dimensions by tracing a small circle clockwise, three times on your forehead with your middle finger. Then run both hands quickly down over your astral body three times and flick your fingers, as if you are brushing of dust. Repeat the procedure.

You’ll feel your spirit guides’ presence by a tingling, shimmering sensation in your crown chakra and then down your spine.

If however, you feel a shimmer ascending up the spine, the visiting entities will be from the lower dimensions. Do not be afraid. Simply command them to leave with the forceful power of your will!’

Bashar’s tone became low and hypnotic.

‘Now join me with the chant. You’ll feel the kinetic energy in the room increase dramatically. Close your eyes - relax - breathe deeply... relax... Aum.......’

The deep voice reverberated around the circular room. Paul and Sonia joined in. Their inharmonious voices gradually merged with Bashar’s and settled into a powerful melodic chord.
‘Now invite your spirit friends and guides into the circle. Advise them they are most welcome and that you are grateful of their presence and help.’

Bashar continued the hypnotic chant. He fingered the three circles upon his third eye, then waved his hands and fingers down over his astral body three times. Paul and Sonia copied the occult actions.

At first nothing. But yes, there it was! Paul felt a tingling sensation quiver down his spine. And again - now stronger! The subtle inter-connecting of astral bodies - like emu feathers tickled across naked skin. He shuddered and as he shuddered, tears of awareness began to glaze his eyes. He could feel the presence of spiritual beings - angelic beings whose essence felt loving, saintly - parental?

And he could feel Bashar’s penetrating gaze upon him. A gaze that exuded an aura of sensitive understanding.

An eerie silence. The silence was so profound, Paul could quite clearly hear the burning of the flickering candles.

‘Look into the air about you and observe the charged kinetic energy. Allow the eyes to focus into nothingness. Do not focus on a background object. Stare into the air.’

Paul stared into the semi dark void. To his amazement the air was impregnated with flashing and streaking particles of light energy - sparkling like a saucepan in a microwave oven.

‘Now close your eyes. I want you to imagine an egg shape cocoon of light around your body. We will do some deep breathing exercises. And this time as you exhale, imagine that you are filling your whole astral egg with pranic energy.’ He lifted a finger to his nose. ‘Block your left nostril with your finger like this. Breathe in to the count of ten. Hold to the count of ten. Now alternate the nostrils. Breath out to the count of ten through your left nostril.’

Paul and Sonia followed the Tantric Master. A rhythm developed and they began to experience a light headed shift in consciousness.

Bashar continued. ‘With your breath, push the peripherals of the egg outwards. Feel your physical body now ending at the limits of the egg rather than your skin. Fill the egg with energy. Imagine the egg as a force field or a shield against psychic attack. See the egg as whole. Repair any gaps you may find there with golden light energy.’

Paul exhaled with force and felt as if he was blowing up a large balloon.

‘Practice this exercise often. In the shower - at bedtime - at sunrise. Anytime you need to feel rejuvenated. Eventually your astral body will fill the room - and even beyond. You’ll be able to direct your consciousness to anywhere your will directs.’

‘And now to the psychic attack reversal ritual.’

He handed them each a mirror and the sticky tape. ‘I want you to write your initials on a small piece of paper and stick the paper to the centre of the mirror. Now anoint your brow, throat and heart chakras with the fragrant oil. Place your declaration face down on the mirror. Pick them up together and hold them in the palms of your hands. Meditate. Imagine yourself immersed in shafts of pure golden light. Invite your spirit guides to assist.’

Bashar appeared to stare out of focus at them as if he was reading their auras.

‘Ah, you are ready, yes? Now repeat after me, ‘The mirror, declaration and I, are now conjoined permanently and powerfully.’

They repeated the affirmation with Bashar.

‘Lay the declaration on the alter. Lay the mirror face up. Dip your forefinger in the oil and trace a circle around the outside of the initials on the mirror as you say, ‘This powerful oil shields and protects me now, as the mirror is ready to my bidding!’

Bashar eyed Paul reprovingly at the stumbling attempt.

‘No, no no! Recite the words with fired passion. With gusto! Try again.’

Paul and Sonia obeyed, feeling a little foolish.

‘Ah, that’s better, yes?’ approved Bashar with purposeful showmanship. ‘Now, read your declaration aloud four times. And again make sure you read with enthusiasm and force of will. Upon the fifth reading, touch the top left hand corner of the declaration into the flame. Continue to read the declaration as the flames burn. Allow the burning residue to drop into the receptacle.’

On the fifth reading, Paul found he had to recite quickly to stay in advance of the flame. Sonia managed to only read half of the declaration before dropping the fiery paper into the receptacle.
Bashar grinned and gleamed into their four incredulous eyes.

‘The ritual is now over. Thank your spirit guides for their assistance and attendance. You feel peaceful and whole, yes?’ Know that the ritual will take effect immediately.’

Paul peered at Sonia. ‘How do you feel?’ he asked softly.

‘Beautiful - peaceful - wonderful!’

‘I do too,’ he said and held her hand wantonly.

‘Please both of you, now stand up in front of me.’

Paul helped Sonia to her feet.

Bashar, his eyes thinned to almost a line, squinted at Paul’s aura. ‘Excellent Paul, your aura is radiant and complete. For the first week, perform the ritual and the breathing techniques each night. Then when ever you feel a need.’

Paul nodded.

‘And keep of the drugs!’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You heard me. Spiritual mastery cannot be achieved through drugs. Quite the reverse, your astral becomes holed and you become vulnerable to possession and attack.’

‘Bashar, believe me. I don’t do drugs!’

Bashar observed that the wave of passionate red emitting from Paul’s aura was not kindled with deceit. A single worried crease appeared on Bashar’s forehead.

‘Then Paul, I am sorry to say you are being drugged! I suggest, from now on you are most vigilant in the preparation of your food and drinks!’

Without allowing the time for Paul to reply, Bashar’s gaze shifted to Sonia. His voice expressed admonishment.

‘And Sonia, the lower entities that have been attaching themselves to your aura like blood sucking leeches, have now departed. You are once again free of outside influence. However, a word of caution. Life may well be a sensual and exciting game. But the games you are playing are rigged against you. The denizens of the underworlds use your appetite for experience for their own rapacious ends. Your inheritance is a gold mine and you ignorantly gamble your soul for a dime. Don’t risk possession again - the next time you may not be so lucky!’

Sonia’s faced turned a perplexed mauve. She managed a slight stupefied nod.

And Paul also was struck nonplussed. The ramifications of the possibility - or indeed probability - that someone was trying to poison him piqued his curiosity with insensate horror!

5

‘Darling, I want to make love to you.’

Paul was only momentarily stunned. He sipped his third glass of Dom Perignon and with his right hand continued to run his fingers through Sonia’s yielding hair.

She was cuddled lengthways upon the couch, her cute face buried into his lap and her arms clutching his waist for dear life like a forsaken little kitten.

She rubbed her cheeks exultingly against his throbbing erection and he wondered how the male reproductive anatomy could react so autonomously without the mind’s permission.

‘I said I want to make love to you,’ she whispered again.

‘I heard you,’ he replied quietly and ran his hand up under her dress to her suspenders and began to caress her youthful thighs.

‘Do you like what you feel, Paul? I do hope you like what you feel.’

Paul closed his eyes and heard himself reluctantly murmur, ‘You feel just bloody perfect and you know it.’

‘God I want you inside me. I’m so wet. Paul, please can I have you? Can I Paul?’

Her loose fitting designer label knickers were more than practicable in the circumstances and his hands were soon feeling the smooth warm cheeks of her bottom.

And to Paul, she felt like a little girl, vulnerable, innocent, soft - and irresistibly sensual.

She gazed up at him with those sultry Korat’s eyes and purred teasingly, ‘All you have to do is to lay down and shut your eyes Paul. I’ll sit on top of you.’

He shook his head. ‘God Sonia, you are so blatantly impossible!’

‘Why sir, I’m not impossible - I’m just impassable!’

Paul drained his champagne and placed the glass on the side table. Bashar’s breathing techniques seemed to have cleared his head and the dizziness had now eased.

And his mind felt bogged in a quagmire of utter conflict.

The woman he loved had ran off to the other end of the world without even saying goodbye. The father he hated seemed bent on manipulating him for reasons yet unknown. The sinister energy of the castle - the possibility he was being drugged. Bashar the enigma. Don the crawler. Nergal the monster computer program. And of course Sonia, the crazy mixed up cute scientist.

She stood up and eyed him beguilingly, salaciously - and yes, lovingly. Her tear moist eyes sparkled like the window display in a jewellery shop.

‘I know you will go to her Paul.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Rebecca I mean. And I guess, I want you to go to her. My woman’s intuition tells me that she’s too self centered for you. Rebecca doesn’t know how to give of herself. She needs a puppy in her life - even if she does insists on a pedigree. But you will have to learn that lesson for yourself.’
Sonia sniffed her nose and wiped her tears with her sleeve.

‘And I’ll be here waiting for you when you return - or waiting for your phone call to summon me to your side. But first, I want to make love to you. I want you to know what is here waiting for you. God damn it Paul, I love you! And I know you’ll love me too once you have that selfish will-o-the-wisp out of your mind!’

He felt deeply affected by her brazen passion. An intoxicating purity co-existed in her fervor. And Sonia seemed different, more honest, more genuine, since Bashar’s ritual.

She’s right, he thought, he could quite easily fall in love with her. Perhaps he already had. Yet the love would be different. He would love Sonia like a daughter and would want to take care of her, protect her. And he would love Rebecca as a the eternal all embracing mother - look up to her - worship her.

He began to realize that for an awakening soul, the many facets of love are like an infinitely cut reflective diamond.

Tears of combined happiness and champagne sadness ran down her cheeks as she slowly, premeditatedly, undid the four buttons on her blouse and let it slip to the rug.

She unzipped the small zip at the side of her skirt and her lucent eyes did not waver from his for even a second. She bent over towards him, at the same time stepping erotically out of the garment.

He could see clearly that she was braless under her white petticoat and her breasts projected like the two pointed stimulating mounds of Venus.

She bent her knees slightly and crossed her arms and held the hem of her petticoat with her sculptured pink fingernails. Her shyless eyes remained unflinching as she stylishly lifted the petticoat up over her head.

She spoke with a purr and a precious adolescent sniff. ‘When I was a teenager at university I performed on stage as a dancer. I simply love modern dance. It can be so lubricatingly sensuous.’ She held out her neck and turned swanlike on her tip toes in a perfect pirouette.

Paul gazed at her with the naked ardor of an artist. He grinned approvingly.

‘I bet some of the college guys had heart palpitations when you showed off your breasts and underwear to them. And I’ll wager you enjoyed teasing them silly.’

‘Yes sir, and I was so good at it too! Well, that was when I was a teenager. But you’re the only person I love teasing now. I want to tease you for ever,’ she paused and grinned, ‘Because I know you enjoy being teased rotten.’

She leaned over him and gently shut his eyelids with her thumb and forefinger.

‘Eyes shut now darling. Be a good boy for your little doe and lie down.’

He felt her undoing his shoes and removing his socks. She unfastened his belt and unzipped his trousers. Her cool hand inched in under his hipsters - fingers fondled - then squeezed hard.’

‘Ouch!’

‘Shsh. Don’t be a baby.’

She undid the buttons on his shirt and bared his chest - and then pinched his nipples, hard.

‘Ouch!’

‘I said shsh...’

‘Lift up,’ he heard her whisper And his trousers and underwear were ungraciously removed.

‘Wow! Looks pretty wonderful to me. I love it!’ she breathed.

He groaned as he felt that strangely familiar tongue, and that small lascivious mouth.

He gasped - and shuddered - and...

‘Sir, don’t you even think of coming - at least ways - not for hours!’

Sonia climbed on top of him and with her hands guided his moistened penis tightly in. She lowered herself - all the way down - all the way down - appeasing herself by devouring his warm shaft deep inside her and laying permanent siege to his love.

‘Now I’m going to tell you some very, very naughty stories. Where would you like me to begin? Ah yes - how about the day Bashar asked me to undress...!

6

Less than an hour after Paul and Sonia had left, the iron latch on Bashar’s front door rattled once more. Bashar wore a heavy black coat over his orange robes and kept arcanely to the misty shadows.

The midnight air was deathly still and close to zero. Drunken laughter from a party a few buildings over, polluted the painful peacefulness of the castle. A generator hummed ominously in the distance.

He slunk into an alleyway, silently, like a shadowy wraith. Away from the path of the security searchlights that randomly swept the walkways and irradiated the buildings.

And he knew this was to be his last secret rendezvous with Nadia.

She was there waiting as usual but this time as he approached, even in the stark blackness, he could sense her fearful impatience.

‘The negative ions in the air are good for late night problem solving, yes?’ he said, and his words were the pre-designated code for ‘all clear’. He waited for the acknowledgment.

‘Their influence is more beneficial immediately prior to sunrise,’ she replied.

He walked to her now and hugged her.

‘Try to remain calm Nadia,’ Bashar spoke in perfect Hebrew to the tall Romanian Israeli.

‘That’s easier said than done,’ she replied in the same language. ‘Nergal senses something is up. 'He roasted us for three hours late this afternoon. We survived - just! But my nerves are now shot.’

Bashar replied unflinchingly. ‘Yes I heard. Sonia phoned before she was due to arrive at my apartment with Paul. She was distressed out of her mind. She thought the alarm might have had something to do with Paul or Don Ormsby.’

‘Sonia?’

‘Yes Sonia. Naturally she still doesn’t know anything. But she rings me regularly. She likes to keep her fingers in the psychic-pie, so to speak.’

‘Be careful Bashar. Sonia is big trouble.’

‘Sonia has been used and abused like so many of the staff. But I am certain her muddled heart does not embrace evil.’

Nadia’s voice lowered to almost a heart beat. ‘The bombs are set to explode for 11am tomorrow morning. We’ve managed to plant seven. Four in the laboratories of ‘F’ section and three in the lift wells to the lower dungeons.’

‘Ah, good that should buy us a little time, yes,’ he whispered covertly. ‘The chopper will land on the roof of Heinrich Ravenscroft’s office building at exactly 11.10 am. The Ravenscroft corporate markings will be displayed on its fuselage. In the confusion the guards will think that Heinrich is being flown to safety. You’ll have to fight your way to the roofs. As you are well aware, surprise is of the utmost importance.’

Nadia knew well the value and necessity of surprise - as did all Mossad special purpose agents. She also knew her chances of escaping from the castle were at best, slim.

‘Bashar will I be seeing you again?’

He eyed his sister with knowing compassion. ‘Our time in this incarnation is limited, but in the spiritual realms an eternal adventure awaits us. And I promise you, my little flower, I will take you exploring through the beautiful spiritual dimensional worlds.’

‘Please hug me my brother one last time - like you used to when we were children.’
An unseen universal tear meandered down onto his beard as he huddled Nadia warmly within his healing chakric embrace.

*

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*

Copyright 2004 – 2006 © Charles Goodwin. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, copied or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, storage in a retrieval system or otherwise, without the prior express written permission of Charles Goodwin.

All characters - other than obvious historical figures - in this book 666 The Cauldron are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Prospective publishers with expressions of interest are invited to contact Charles Goodwin at cgoodwin@wealth-creators-club.com *