Part One of this snippet-occult series delves into mock occult practices which anyone that feels like faking occult practices could do, such as claiming to ‘channel’ some spirit entity so as to embed oneself into some New Age celebrity grouping, for instance. Heck, IMHO, anyone can claim to be a ‘witch’ or ‘wizard’ just by buying a Ouija Board or Tarot Cards or pretend to perform séances. Now I never owned a Ouija Board but I once bought Tarot Cards having no clue as to how to use them as a witch would, but just to see what Tarot Cards looked like. One girls’ slumber party I attended–I was in a high school B-list sorority–I witnessed (without taking part in it) a séance on a sorority member performed by another sorority member who may or may not have ever performed séances before. As I stated in the previous post, any activity I had with anything occultist stopped the night two friends and I created a mock Ouija Board and would up calling up spirits we should never have called up, scaring the crap out of all of us so that they had to walk me home over a mile around 11 p.m. and it was still winter.
In part 2, the snippets call forth much more sinister forces than mere fake channeling of some New Age ‘god.’ Anyone who studies the occult knows why occult rituals are used–for true witchcraft, and to capture souls for the forces of evil, the devil, aka Satan, which in The Prodigal Band Trilogy is referred to as Corion, a fictional false god of an ancient fictional Celtic cannibal sect that rivaled the Druids, called ‘the Crag-Dwellers’ of the mountains of Wales. Now who would want to ‘capture souls for the forces of evil’? The spiritual forces of evil, of course, and their minions on Earth whom they have given such as power, wealth, fame, fortune, and lusts in exchange for their loyalty to the Evil. And who would be victimized by these forces? Folks who get suckered into seeking advantages over others by “selling their souls to” the devil and such, which is supposedly rampant in the annals of popular culture, according to some. Rock stars, for instance, but also their fans.
The first snippet is from the first chapter of Battle of the Band and has fictional band leader Jack “praying” for success for his band, Sound Unltd, about to tour the UK after winning a contest. He thinks he is praying to good angels but bad angels, The Demons, answer his “prayer.”
Early morning, June 6, 1986
Bound for London for fame and fortune, sleepy-eyed band leader Jack Lubin lifted himself out of bed, went to his wash basin and communed with the deities.
“If anyone is listening, please answer me. Look, man, we want to make it big. Huge! The greatest rock ‘n roll band there ever was. We got the talent, we got the ambition, and I got the will to drive us. Do you think you can fix it for us?”
“We hear you,” a deep voice answered.
The seventeen-year-old guitarist stumbled backwards into a dresser drawer, aghast. “Who the hell are you?”
“One of your guardian angels, as you would call us. As for your wish, it’s done.”
“Huh? Just like that? By wishing for it?”
“Of course, you won’t make it right away. You’ll have to work your way up like anyone else. That’s so nobody suspects our pact.”
“Yes. We will see you make your big break. And once you make it, no one will be able to stop you. Sound Unltd will be invincible. All you boys have to do is prove you want it more than anything. More than anything!” The Demons laughed in uproar. “When the time is right, we’ll name our price.”
Jack shook. “A price? What you mean by that?”
“Well,” the deep voice laughed, “you can’t expect fame and fortune for nothing, can you?”
As the notion of paying a price for success swarmed in his head like attacking bees, Jack repeated out loud, “I didn’t hear that. Just me imagination, eh?”
The second snippet comes from the end of Chapter Seven after guitarist-producer Mick is poisoned, his cocaine he was addicted to having been laced with strychnine. This event happened shortly after Mick and his gay lover, singer Adam Bloodlove, argued while Bloodlove was about to sign a recording contract with Mick’s record label. Mega-media mogul, Mr. X., ordered New Age and Satanic cult leader Swami Negran to murder Bloodlove in order to “force” Mick and his band to “sign the Pact” with the devil as they both believed that Mick believed Bloodlove had laced the coke with the poison–that way, a dead man could “tell no tales” and prove his innocence.
The Indian mystic was given his instructions by Mr. X. A square piece of paper read, “The time for Sound Unltd to sign a Pact with Our Lord Lucifer is near. Have producer see the consequences of not fulfilling his group’s bargain. He assumes Bloodlove poisoned him. So that Bloodlove can’t tell that he is innocent, kill the singer.”
A short time later, Swami showed up on Adam’s doorstep. The occultist eagerly opened the door.
“Welcome, Swami. Come in and party with me, eh?”
“Yes, my friend, but first I have something to show you.” Negran held out his red crystal. “Look into my crystal, Adam. You will see something very interesting.”
Adam forgot he’d asked the mystic in. “Well—yes, I think I will.”
“Look deeply, my friend.”
Bloodlove held it in his hand and took a sharp look. “I see a man in there, eh? That’s strange.”
“Yes. Look long and hard.”
The singer began to glow. “Hmmm. I feel really light, like I’m disintegrating, becoming a light beam. Light headed.”
He now felt hypnotized. His life force was slowly but surely sucked out of his body while the luminous egg surrounding him entrapped his physical state. Several minutes later, Bloodlove collapsed dead, his soul imprisoned within the crystal.
Adam’s body was found by a derelict two months later in a sewer that connected to a London Underground station.
The final snippet comes from Chapter Six of The Prodigal Band and introduces another man soon-to-be-possessed by evil, Mark Besst, that will try to win the confidence of the band for nefarious purposes.
Enter Mark Besst—The Making of a Hellyon, the Inner Circle, 1995
Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth took a potion meant to cause mild hallucinations for Mark Besst during his initiation into the Hellyon Society Inner Sanctum and slipped it into the water he was about to drink.
“Here you go, Mark. Water. You must be thirsty after all that sex.”
He took the water and drank it. “Thanks, I needed that.”
He did not notice any difference in taste of the water due to the potion, which would cause him to become drowsy enough so that Hellyon minions could bind him and place a black hood over his head as part of the initiation, and cart him off to Torquay’s dungeon for the Inner Sanctum Hellyon ritual.
And when Mark was standing at the foot of the altar as Baron Torquay thrust a sword into a terrified two-year-old orphan as a sacrifice to Satan-Lucifer-Corion, he would consider the event an episode of heightened consciousness, as if he was in a state of Buddhist nirvana.
And so it was, at the altar, when Melanie Ross, at his right side, in nothing but a hooded black robe, handed him a 24-carot gold cup of the sacrificial blood, which he slurped robustly.
The chanting of a satanic prayer began, but the Hellyon on his left side, Ally, implored, “Don’t drink it all, Mark! Leave some for the rest of us!”
The Hellyon closest to Torquay at the baron’s right, the last to sip the blood, was Marty, the Duke of Effingchester. After partaking, he threw the cup against the opposite rock wall and proclaimed, at the end of the ritual, “Come, O Lord Lucifer! This world is yours! And now Mark Besst is yours!”
Above ground in the ballroom of Torquay Hall where millions of dollars’ worth of gold, diamonds, pearls, and human bones and teeth were strewn, the Hellyons celebrated their newest member into their Inner Sanctum.
Torquay, half-naked in a satin black half-robe that nearly exposed his manhood as well as his somewhat flabby legs—he was 65—went up to Besst and grabbed his right arm, turning him around. “Your company success is now assured, and your competition will be destroyed, Mark. You will own the online media, completely. You will help us control planet Earth. Literally. Our Lord Lucifer will make you a god. Literally! For we, all of us here, are gods and goddesses.” Wicked laughter. “We rule the Earth at the behest of Our Lord.”
“Including Ally and Melanie?”
“Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth is 36, but she looks 16, right? Our Lord Lucifer keeps her young and maybe the sexiest woman alive. She drinks aborted fetus blood often. In fact, her company and foundation owns many abortion clinics on Earth, even in places like China. And Melanie? Same thing, but she has an even darker nature. She is the one that buys and sells babies and children for Ally and the rest of us. She now owns over one thousand orphanages and controls the ones my father used to own. She and Marty. And no one who works at these places will ever dare challenge either one of them. As with my father,” he laughed, again wickedly, “they despise the masses and want their flesh and their blood.”
“Really? Well,” Mark laughed with a smirk, “they need to save some for me.”
“Yeah, I have watched Marty over the years, and hung around Rodney Davis as well. I consider them my mentors.” Then he flinched. “But what I don’t get is why Marty married that Tina! Such a bore! Not the Hellyon type I guess.”
Baron got nasty at the mention of her name. “Do NOT mention that wench! That marriage was arranged by her mother and father who just happen to be here tonight,” he pointed toward the bar, “over there. They are totally ashamed at her and want nothing to do with her and in fact,” Baron whispered in Mark’s ear, “have thought about killing her, what with her not wanting to be part of us! But I have told them not to even consider that.” Baron then talked in a normal voice. “Tina is good friends with a man whom we need with us and was promised to us many years ago, he and his five cohorts. Sound Unltd.”
“Really?!” Mark nearly shouted in surprise.
“Yes. All six have been promised to us, to Our Lord Lucifer, for many years, since the late 80s. But, Mark, something or someone keeps getting in the way. Whenever we think we have them, something happens.”
Mark then came up with an idea to serve his new master. “Maybe I can help on that front, Baron. They, all of them, even the doubters among them, trust me.”
“Yes, you can and you must. As for Neville Banner, he is not committed to serving us. He wouldn’t even join our outer group, let alone our Inner Sanctum. According to Ally, who used to date Mick Pordengreau—who was an outer Hellyon for a while, even, but again would not commit to us—Mick turned Neville away from the idea of joining us. We had given Neville a mission to help capture the six.”
That is, getting this six into Banner’s World Community Artists Foundation, and getting Swami Negran in good with them, resulting in the ‘world unity’ gig of 1994, which led to riots and teens murdering young children—thanks to the influence of the red crystals.
“And he has failed miserably.”
Considering members of the band were leaving, not joining, the Foundation.
“I’ve always liked Neville,” Mark said disgustedly, “but now? He is clearly weak minded, unsure of who calls the shots in this world. And I must say, Baron, I didn’t just join the Hellyons for success and millions and billions of money. I truly love Lucifer! I want to serve him! Lucifer implores us to live the way we want. If we want to be good, fine, but if we want power and money and great sex and see godhood, Lucifer wants us to have that as well. I have wanted to follow Lucifer since I was a freshman in college.”
Then Mark explained to Torquay how Allyson Hallsey-Foxworth’s brother Drew recruited him into the Hellyons. He convinced Mark that aborting unwanted fetuses and sacrificing unwanted orphans to Satan or Corion or another false god was not only good for the Earth—getting rid of ‘useless eaters’—but good for the sacrificed fetus or child to Satan-Corion. That way, Satan-Corion would ‘take care of’ and ‘love’ that sacrificed fetus or child.
“So, you see, Baron, I really want to do the will of Our Lord Lucifer. And punish Neville for betraying our god! He will pay for his crimes!”
“That is your mission, then, Mark. Take care of the infidel! And the sextet.”
And the ‘infidel’ was poisoned to death by Mark Besst in 2001. By then, Besst, CEO of a tech giant, was out to control the world, online and off-line.
That’s it for the occult snippets. Paranormal is next.
The Prodigal Band Trilogy © 2019 by Deborah Lagarde, Battle of the Band © 1996 by Deborah Lagarde, The Prophesied Band © 1998 by Deborah Lagarde and The Prodigal Band © 2018 by Deborah Lagarde. Permission needed to copy any materials off this page.
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